Youthful Prophets

For most of my adult life I have had the great pleasure of working with young people; on the streets of Sydney and Brisbane; in the juvenile detention centres; in the Royal Australian Navy and in schools across two states. I say pleasure because young people are open, honest, sometimes a little too honest, quick to cut through the superficialities to the real questions.

And they won’t be put off by adult posturing and pretence.  They can sense when you are fair dinkum.

A year 9 student recently lost his father unexpectedly. He is doing it tough. He came to see me, and after some discussion, I looked him in the eye and said, ‘ I would be lying to you if I said what happened will ever get better. It won’t. You will just get better at handling it.’  He looked at me and said, ‘Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear that.’ He was looking for a love or respect that was real, hard and true.  

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The Widow and The Judge

‘Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Luke 18:1-8)

The widow annoys the judge. The judge caves in. The widow gets her justice. And all is well! Well…no!

The wealthy powerful judge's comfortable life is unhinged by the persistent insistence of the powerless poor widow. She is hungry, forgotten, outside of the circles of respectability all because of something she had little control over, her husband died. In her plight she goes and stands outside the house of the one who can do something for her and begins pleading, and doesn't stop. Like the cat who sits outside your bedroom window in the middle of the night and keeps you awake, taking no notice of your colourful language, she keeps right on, and on, and on.

You see she is stuck in the space-in-between - in between what she once had and what she is entitled to, in a word, respect. But not only is she stuck in that space, so is the judge.  He is committed to the status quo but is being pleaded to move to a place of justice, a place where he is asked to take action to put right what is wrong.

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Living the Monastic Life - My Mother and Dementia

I visited my mum this last week. Wow, what a surprise. When Dad died we knew Mum had dementia but we were not sure just how badly she was affected. 

To ensure things went as well as could be expected we took preventative action.

My brother placed notes in prominent places around the house. Above the stove, reminding her to turn it off. By the door, reminding her to keep it locked. All windows and places of access were given extra security. A comprehensive list of contacts, service providers and emergency numbers were blu-tacked above the telephone.  The local Meals-on-Wheels were arranged to provide meals several days a week.  The Community nurses came, assessed her needs and agreed to visit everyday for an hour or so, just to keep a check on here.  She agreed to go to the weekly memory group and would be picked up for church on Sundays and, whenever possible, on Wednesdays.  A community worker would take her shopping each week.

We  hoped all this would work, but we were unsure of the outcome. Yes, we held our collective breath.

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