Reflections from the belly
In Melbourne’s north-eastern suburbs, at a long table littered with empty wine bottles and glasses just waiting to be filled, we contemplated the wedding at Cana. It was a conversation-style service, but for those who couldn’t be there, here’s a brief reflection.
Jesus is at a wedding, the wine runs out, he turns water into wine, blah blah blah. The story and its interpretation are so familiar that it can be tempting to tune out.
Continue reading “John | Like a wedding”
A reflection for Epiphany, or the visit of the wise.
Like many who grew up in the church, I learned to be wary of different knowledges. We never read our horoscopes, for they were considered to be devilish astrology. We avoided some Asian restaurants, because their shrines of incense and oranges looked like sacrifices to idols. We didn’t learn Indigenous stories, because we suspected they might open us up to demonic forces. We knew that the people of God have an abhorrence for pagans, idols and foreign gods: and we were faithful. And yet every year we set up our nativity scene with wise men from the East. Continue reading “Matthew | This Epiphany, let us be wise”
A Christmas encouragement for the Flemington Ark People’s Pantry and any food share project!
Sometimes, heaven’s banquet is set out on wonky old trestle tables. And always, the food is a gift. You know how it goes. There’s the collection of food which would otherwise go into landfill: for nothing is wasted in God’s economy. There’s the sorting, the setting out, the packing, the delivery. There’s the volunteers hungry for food, for work, for meaning, for a people and a place to belong to. And there’s the blessed reality that, through waste redemption and food sharing, all these people are fed. Continue reading “Luke | Heaven’s bread”
Three key practices, no, four, shape a dynamic resurrection faith. (Listen.)
Whenever I hear this passage, I feel a cool, refreshing breeze blow through me. Imagine: the Holy Spirit roaring through town and creating hundreds of new disciples. Imagine: animated tables of friends and strangers sharing generous, joyful meals. Imagine: a passionate prayer life, a deep engagement with God, a trust in things beyond private wealth. Imagine: a world in which lives are shared, and everyone’s needs are met. Continue reading “Acts | The four devotions”
Good health, good work, and good relationships come together to form a city of joy, and a people of delight. (Listen.)
A city of joy, its people a delight: this is what God promises through the prophet Isaiah. Sounds wonderful! So, what are the elements of this joyful city? First, says Isaiah, health and wellbeing. No child will die young; no senior die prematurely (Isa. 65:20). And we can imagine it. There are no coal-fired power stations; no rampaging wildfires; no unprecedented floods. There are no smouldering rainforests; no record-breaking heatwaves. No children or elders are struggling for breath through air thick with particulate matter; no one is sick from herbicides or forever chemicals because these are strictly banned; nobody is collapsing from extreme heat. Continue reading “Isaiah | The city of joy”
In lockdown some of us are appreciating the simple things and discovering, with the wisdom writer, that some choices are better than others. (Listen.)
If anything good came out of last year’s extended lockdown, it was this: My husband no longer lived in Melbourne part time; he was home every day of the week. I no longer had to operate as a single parent, ever. My daughters were always home, no shuttling to school or activities; and, being self-directed learners, they needed little supervision. No one came over; we didn’t go out. Free from the scramble of sole parenting, free from the drop-offs and pickups and workdays curtailed, free from commuting to Melbourne for work myself, free from activities and dinners and going away on holiday, with meetings cancelled and housework shared: I had time. Continue reading “Proverbs | Better a dinner of greens”
At our house, we have a simple mealtime ritual. We pause, then someone says, ‘Thank you, God, for this food, for the farmers, and for the cook.’ Then they add whatever else is on their heart. One night, we might give thanks for mathematics and minecraft. Another time, it might be for horses and sisters and … can’t we just eat now? Continue reading “A mealtime ritual: Pause, give thanks, pay attention”
An enfleshed God unites us with the community of all creation and points us to urgent climate action. (Listen.)
There are two kinds of eating, says Jesus; two kinds of food. One, we eat of the created goodness, plants and animals which we rip into with our teeth, and chew and swallow; they are absorbed into us so that we might live. This is the food which perishes. The other, we eat of Christ, ripping in with our teeth, chewing and swallowing. Christ is absorbed into us that we might live beyond simply being alive: this is the food which endures. The first food provides vitamins, minerals, calories, fats; the second, transformation, wholeness, wisdom, healing. The first grants fullness of stomach, here and now; the second, fullness of life in time beyond time. These ways of eating are intimately related: and they point to the care of the whole earth. Continue reading “John | For the life of the world”
The church is the body of Christ, and so it is our joy to be broken and shared to feed a hungry world. (Listen.)
Do you feed on success, or achievement, or excellence? How about winning, or seeing your team or country win? Do you feed on other people’s approval or praise or pity or love? Do you feed on wealth and power, or being followed on social media? What about the dopamine hit of other people’s ‘likes’? Do you feed on beauty? Do you feed on titbits of gossip, or righteous anger or outrage? Do you need to win every argument? Do you feed on being needed? Do you feed on your wounds? What do you feed on? Continue reading “John | With Christ as our centre and source, we too become bread”
God provides abundance where people see scarcity, delights in gathering people to feed them, and comes up with endlessly surprising ways to do so—even during lockdown. (Listen.)
Here we are in lockdown again, and life is feeling small. We don’t see enough people; we don’t share enough meals; we don’t get enough exercise; the walls are beginning to close in. Even when lockdown eases, we know from previous experience that it will take time and energy to reengage with the world. We’ll have new restrictions to navigate and new fears to manage. And after all these months of infrequent socialising, some of us will decide that it’s all too hard; we’ll choose to stay home. Continue reading “John | Five loaves, two fishes and a pocketful of prayers make a church”
Alison and the whale 