National Reconciliation Week - A Call For Action

Last Wednesday night I had a  dream. I dreamt I and many others were in a compound ruled over by a powerful white bureaucrat. There were so many people there they could not all be accommodated. Some 200 were killed  to make room and those left behind were made take the bodies into the hills and leave them. As we watched a black cloud began spiralling into the sky. It took the shape of wedge tailed eagles and black crows. The female and male totems of my clan hovered as the spirits of those who died rose into the sky.

 

Some began a protest and were taken to a police station accused of crimes we had not committed and, believe it or not, of the crime those in power had committed. All the while the spiral of spirits connected the heavens and the earth, both devastatingly sad and infinitely hopeful.

 

This is a hard dream as it highlights the destruction of indigenous peoples by people who worshipped in our churches. It raises modern issues as income management, the Northern Territory Intervention, The Closing the Gap policies, the campaign to assimilate indigenous people into the constitution along with the return to countries such as India of long serving citizens who came here on 457 visas and our treatment of refugees, Muslims, the LGBTI community and others.

 

And it explains why I paint. I paint for the recognition of all people and cultures and for the reclamation of the place of country, languages and culture in this place. Coming from a place where the aborigines were marked for extermination, I have no language and no culture. William Cox, landowner and Anglican at a Public Meeting in 1824 stated the following, “The best thing that can be done is to shoot all blacks and manure the ground with their carcasses. That is all they are fit for! It is also recommended that all the women and children be shot. That is the most certain way of getting rid of this pestilent race." By 1876 the last tribal aborigine, Tom Penney had died, and in 1900 those who were left in a camp at Wollar were forcibly moved to a mission at Brewarrina, never to return.

  

Why do I paint? Thomas Merton wrote, “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”  Art is where I find myself. I have been lost to my story and myself and have needed a process in which I can reclaim my identity. The paradox is that once I begin to paint I lose myself again, but this time with a sense of becoming something mysteriously new. I have no country to walk but my canvas. My father would use the indigenous idea of walking country and listening deeply (dadirri) as the means of discernment. I have no such land but I do have a canvas and as I sit or stand before it I begin to hear and respond to the stories hidden within it and those deep within my hidden and ancient self.

 

Thomas Berry, encapsulates the experience of aboriginal people in particular when he says,  “We can no longer hear the voice of the rivers, the mountains, or the sea. The trees and meadows are no longer intimate modes of spirit presence. The world about us has become an ‘it’ rather than a ‘thou.’”  My art is an attempt to hear the voice of rivers, mountains and sea, and the voice of those who went before us. My art is an attempt to honour that voice and to amplify it into the world that has forgotten them. My art is an attempt to transform creation and people from an “it” to a “thou”.

 

Jesus says in our gospel reading; ‘I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one.’ My art is an attempt to make this a reality in a world created to surge towards wholeness though compassion and respect. It is a project with no beginning and no end but is embodied in Jesus the Christ as the Alpha, the still point of creative power in all things, and the Omega, a point far in the ever-evolving future we are yet to see.

 

It is important tonight to refer to the Uluru statement and the hope it appears to offer. While it is hopeful, the reality is our political leaders are not committed to it and have already begun the process of watering it down as witnessed in their initial responses. Many non-indigenous Australians are  ignorant of the issues Indigenous Australians face and of which we who identify as indigenous can attest to on a daily basis, in the world and in the church.

 

We must understand this statement doesn’t fully express the will of the First Nation’s people, having been crafted with an eye to securing a future referendum. It is disappointing there is not a stronger call for treaty and for a body with legislative recognition to act on behalf of indigenous people. This maybe a start and we will work and wait until we get what is just. As Vincent Lingari of the Wave Hill walk-off said, “We know how to wait."

 

While we are waiting let’s consider what this Diocese can do to further this cause.

 

I would call upon the Diocese of Melbourne and the Anglican Church of Australia to:

•    Publicly affirm the Uluru statement and it’s faint call for treaty, self-determination and sovereignty, and commit itself to translating these objectives into the life of this Diocese and the Anglican Church of Australia and not to settle for a minimalist position of recognition only.

•    To work to ensure the National Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islanders Anglican Commission is fully funded and empowered in the spirit of the Uluru document as the fully representative body with authority to speak into Anglican policy.

•    To work to fund a First Nations person to educate parishes in this Diocese.

•    To appoint a First Nations person as a Bishop or Archdeacon with oversight of First Nation people and clergy, and to speak on behalf of the diocese and across the province on indigenous issues.

 

These are moderate but necessary steps if we are to take seriously our task of putting right the wrongs we as a church have been party to in the history of our country. These are moderate but necessary steps if we are to release the souls of our ancestors to soar in the sky with the wedgetail eagle and the black crow. 

Art and Identity - Canvas As Country

A Portrait of Australia - With Important Bits Missing - Glenn Loughrey, 2017

Matthew 28:16-20

 

Today is the Sunday closest to Ascension Day and also National Reconciliation Sunday. An interesting juxtaposition maybe, but one I would suggest, poses some interesting questions for us individually, as a church and as a society.

Colonisation of Australia, as it did through out the world, brought with it the evangelical fervour to convert those who lived in the colonised countries to the state religion.  In the case of Australia this was, initially at least, Christianity as promoted by the Church of England. And this was essentially predicated on the verses we read in today’s Gospel.

The impact of such fervour continues to reverberate down through the ages in the experience of indigenous people. In conversation indigenous people often ask me why they should trust the church? Desmond Tutu writes, “When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had the Bible and they had the land.” This was the experience indigenous peoples on all continents shared.

 

Matthew’s Gospel is a powerful passage, a passage that brings power, and promises power through the giving of the Holy Spirit. Like all power, it is a double-edged sword. It all depends on how it is used. Way too often it has been used to damage people, places and creatures in the urge for control.  Having everyone believe what you do ensures that you bring him or her in under your control. Belief systems are powerful moderators of peoples behaviour and the inappropriate or literal interpretation of these words from Matthew’s Gospel have been responsible for the justification of poor behaviour by the church.

 

Not only by the church, but by those whose sensibilities have been influenced and informed by the church. Present policies of paternalistic politics in this country continue the conversion of indigenous people, not to a specific faith, but to a specific religion – that of secular capitalism and consumerism. Much of the policies governments and others follow are designed to assimilate indigenous people into the world of individual work, consumption and home ownership. Policies such as the Northern Territory Intervention, the subsequent Closing the Gap policy and individual items such as the indue debit card quarantining income and limiting individual responsibility and the drive to include indigenous people in the constitution have continued the idea of conversion. This time the conversion is to consumerism and making disciples for the corporations to continue to rack up profits.

 

Now these are harsh words for a passage of scripture empowering the disciples to go into the world and engage with those whose worldview is different to theirs. They are harsh words as we consider the significance of the Ascension of Jesus as the releasing of the power of the Holy Spirit into the world. And we must remember that the damage done by literal and colonial interpretations of these words have nothing to do with the Holy Spirit.

 

These words challenge us to receive the Holy Spirit and to listen to her activity in the world. It is about walking abroad in the world and listening to creation in all its various forms and responding out of compassion and respect to bring about wholeness in our lives, the lives of others and in creation.

 

The baptism we read about is not a branding as in the branding of cattle, of ownership and control, but a baptism into the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – the wholeness of the Godhead. It is a baptism of unity with all that exists for all that exists finds it beginning and end in the Source of all being – God. This baptism we are asked to conduct is the shared inclusion in the forward whole-ing of all that is, was and ever will be.

 

Baptism is a partnership with the Spirit of the Christ set loose in the world, whole-d up in places, peoples and events we do not expect or cannot imagine as her dwelling place. In the lives and practices of indigenous people whose understanding of the spirit have been honed and experienced over many centuries before we in the western world encountered the incarnated Christ.

 

Too often we have demanded that people who have been baptised turn their backs on their own traditions and spiritual experiences without consideration of the impact of such an action. Other times we have attempted to appropriate ideas from ancient spiritualties and redefine them within our own faith traditions and understanding. Neither is appropriate and neither is the call of Mathew’s Jesus. He is calling for a deep and respectful dialogue which brings about people who are disciples committed to the core tenets of his teachings – unconditional love and respect for all that is, was, and ever will be – the love which respects others and joins in the process of whole-ing for all.

 

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

This passage is one of the most difficult statements Jesus is given to say. It is all open to interpretation and is often reduced to a legal and theoretical framework designed to ensure people remain faithful to a particular world view depending upon which tradition of faith you belong. It is why we struggle with equality of gender and marriage, of poverty and riches, of race and culture, of faith and religion. Our interpretations of Jesus teachings defines what we believe this should all look like and results in a simple tick sheet of who is in and who is out.

Yet this is one of the most inclusive statements in the Gospels. Go into the world, listen to the Spirit and join with others in the journey into wholeness for all through mutual love and respect. This is the sense of the aboriginal concept of deep listening to country which Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr calls dadirri (and other mobs have different names for) – the deep mutuality of dialogue with all that exists.

This passage challenges us to stop our incessant urge to convert people to our world view and begin the difficult but necessary task of listening deeply to others, people, places and creatures, so that all as the off spring of the Godhead can live in harmonious wholeness.

How do we do that here, in this place? Is it our expectation that all who enter into this place must share our own particular view of faith, liturgy, music and worship? Is it our view that all who enter here must fit the model that we have been comfortable with? Are we indeed listening to hear what the spirit is saying to the church or have already decided what is being said and we do not need to listen anymore? Do we actually go out into the world surrounding our beloved church and actually engage with those who are in such a way that we begin the journey wholeness with them or are we just happy to meet here once a week for our own personal benefit?

I suspect there was some of this in Jesus’s statement to the disciples. I also suggest that the coming of the spirit is not just for our sake, but for the whole world. You know, God so loved the world, and all that stuff. Amen