Feeling rich

With this week's Gospel reading about the widow's mite (I grew up with the KJV, so sue me!), it got some of the members of a liturgy email list I'm on asking questions about good illustrations about money or giving to use in this week's children's talk in their churches.

The discussion then led to poverty, and the idea of how privileged we in the west really are. One member of the list shared a link to a website called the Global Rich List, where you enter your annual wage, and it tells you where you stand in the world's economy.

Now I know lots of people seem to think that a ministry stipend is not the most glamorous income in the world, but when I entered the figures (converted from AUD to USD), the Global Rich List told me that I come in the richest 2% in the world.

Makes you think really, doesn't it?

I'm loaded. It's official. I'm the 129,565,218 richest person on earth! How rich are you? >>

In the hot seat

A few months ago, as a bit of a lark, I filled in an online application to become a contestant on Channel 9's Millionaire Hotseat quiz show.

A couple of weeks later, I received an email, congratulating me that I had passed that first stage and was invited to attend an audition in Melbourne a week or so later.

So I did.
And I got through to the final stage, where I had my photo taken, and a video interview with the contestant coordinator was taped.

Some time passed, and then I received a call to say they wanted me on the show!

So on Monday this week, I found myself again in Melbourne, this time at the studios of Channel 9, for the taping of the show.

The process took all day, from 8:30am till about 5pm (the original wrap time was supposed to be 6:30, but we were let go early). I got the full treatment, with hair and makeup, wardrobe had to approve my clothing choice (which took two goes to get right, the first top I wore had too many small dots on it and would strobe on camera, so I had to change), and a rehearsal, to get us used to the set and what would happen on the show.

Finally, after lunch, we began taping the shows. Five shows were taped on Monday, so there was a group of 30 contestants (6 per show) that formed a bit of a community as we watched each show being taped, and cheered on as people won, and gasped when they came close, but not quite there.

Finally the time came for my show to be taped. My friend and former neighbour, Alan, was my 'friend in the audience', and we were set. It was a lot of fun, and as much as I have never really been a big fan of Eddie Maguire, I have to say that in person he really is a nice guy, and very good at what he does.

Did I win a million dollars? Well, I signed a piece of paper that says I won't disclose that till after the episode goes to air. So if you want to know how I went, you'll have to watch the show on Friday 6th November.

*sigh*

Friday is the 2-year anniversary of Dad's death. It's been interesting to monitor my feelings as this date approaches, and I was particularly surprised by my very negative reaction to the whole Fathers' Day palaver this year.

As the TV ads, junkmail and various email promotions bombarded me with the "perfect gift for Dad!" messages in the lead up to September, I became more and more agitated and likely to burst into tears for no apparent reason.

I was in New Norcia on study leave on that particular day, and remember a woman who was a fellow participant in the weekend retreat making a scathing comment about how the priest who presided at Mass on that Sunday prayed for "the fathers" but not for mothers. Someone else pointed out, "that's probably because today is Fathers' Day," and that almost subliminal mention of fathers in the prayer of intercession was the only reference to Fathers' Day in the Mass.

My response to hearing that comment (as I hadn't quite realised the significance of the date) was, "Finally... thank God it's finally come, now the advertising will stop".

It's not as if Fathers' Day was anything special when Dad was alive- we never made much of a deal of Mothers' or Fathers' Days. My usual filial duty consisted of a phone call on the day, and maybe a card, if they were really lucky (and I remembered to send it... they often would have arrived after the fact, as I'm a bit vague about such dates). But for some reason, this year, even more than last year, the fact that I was fatherless on Fathers' Day hit me.

This year, I won't have the opportunity to do anything particular to mark the date, as I will be spending Friday travelling to Canberra, and participating in a seminar on music and liturgy. (Last year, I watched the DVD recording of Dad's funeral, and then rang Mum and we cried together over the phone). This year, Mum will be in Newcastle, with my aunt and cousin, so at least she won't be alone, which is a good thing. I imagine we'll cry at each other over the phone once we both get back home and have the chance to catch up with each other.

It's hard to believe it's been two years. I still miss you Dad.

Floral update

I realise that in being such a slack blogger in recent times, I have neglected to share the progress of my potted bulbs.

I enjoyed a lovely crop of daffodils and jonquils (the last of which are now in a vase on my dining table), and also some delightful tulips, including some dark purply-black blooms which were pretty spectacular.

These have all now pretty much finished blooming, and in their place, the rinunculi and anemones are taking over, and looking lovely, with the freesias also starting to bloom. Just gorgeous!

Here are some pics of the early jonquils, some tulips and the early stage of the rinunculi and anemones.





I'm also discovering lots of flowers popping up all over the place in the manse garden. In addition to some amazing daffs and jonquils, there have been bluebells irises, winter roses, and now some freesias, and some rather colourful things that I have no idea what they are, but they look pretty.

The heavens are telling the glory of God

This afternoon I had a "Life is Beautiful" moment.

I was driving home from Beechworth, on the Buckland Gap Road, listening to Classic FM on the car radio. Geoffery Lancaster (amazingly talented harpsichord/fortepiano etc player and musicologist) was being interviewed, and was asked what was the most memorable or favourite of all the recordings he had made.

He nominated a performance of Haydn's The Creation, in a restored rococo church somewhere in Europe (can't remember where), with an orchestra and chorus whose members read like the most talented musicians in the world. He cited a particular moment in this performance when they were performing the chorus The heavens are telling, and he looked up from his fortepiano to the paintings on the ceiling of the church, and was so moved by the combined beauty of the art, the amazingness of the music (so perfectly performed) that he was overcome with emotion, and was literally crying his eyes out as he played.

They then went on to play that particular chorus (The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God- in German this time) from that particular performance. As the chorus started up on the radio, I began my descent into Buckland Gap.

As I started down the rather steep and winding road, through the black and brown trees (as the Gap was burnt out during the Feb bushfires) I caught a glimpse of a low-slung and somewhat elusive rainbow through the trees.

I caught only a fleeting glimpse, and as I tried again to see it (looking back once I'd turned a bend was not advisable on that road), I couldn't, and was left with a bit of a "did I see that, or just imagine it?" kind of feeling.

The whole scene moved me- the Haydn on the radio, and the elusive rainbow peeking through the desolate trees. The heavens were indeed telling the glory of God at that moment.

Interesting that this morning in church I preached on God's revelation through creation, and I have just started reading a book which explores the concept of theophany (God visiting, or manifesting himself to humans), which has so far been quite intriguing. I think this moment today was my own personal theophany.

It’s interesting what makes you snap

During the week, I received a mail out from the Synod, which contained a poster advertising an event on “Global Warming and the Love of God”, with John Bell as the keynote speaker. Now I have nothing against the church running events to raise awareness and discuss such issues, in fact, I think it's part of our prophetic role to keep such issues in the minds of everyone (and this is especially timely, given my current focus on the Season of Creation in worship over the next few weeks), and I have the utmost respect for John Bell, who is a fantastic speaker and faithful minister in the church.

However, what made me snap was reading the ‘biographical’ details about John Bell, which included the line: “He does not have a mobile phone, driving licence, camera, i-pod or wife”. Wife?... WIFE?!! I was gobsmacked. The inclusion of ‘wife’ in this list of what appears to be gadgets of the current age that one can be seen as noble for doing without, is surely indicating that whoever wrote this considers a wife to be a chattel.

As a single person, I will be one of the first to advocate that it is not necessary to be married in order to have a good and fulfilling life, (and yes, I confess to occasionally joking about the fact that I need my own wife to do all my domestic chores for me) but there is something about this casual disregard for the value, dignity and humanity of wives that is just plain wrong.

Because I’ve been preparing worship based on the Season of Creation theme, I didn’t pay much attention to the regular lectionary readings for this week, until a colleague mentioned that the Old Testament reading is from Proverbs 31, the “Ode to a capable wife”. At this point, I think I laughed hysterically at the timing of my little snap, and the irony of stumbling across these two, seemingly diametrically opposed views of a wife in the same week.

Perhaps it would be helpful for whoever wrote that biog for John Bell to read Proverbs 31:10-31, “A capable wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels…” (or mobile phones, or cameras, or i-pods).

Selfless spirit

This morning I had a call from a lady asking me to visit her husband who is receiving palliative care in the local hospital. When the lady told me the name of her husband, I remembered I had actually visited this gentleman once before, not long after I arrived here. During that visit, I had left one of my business cards with him, and it was upon discovery of my card that his wife called me today.

He has had a long struggle with cancer, and is rapidly approaching the end of that struggle. In the course of my conversation with his wife, (who sounded quite distressed on the phone), she explained to me that they were "amicably separated". On my last visit, this man told me that he had chosen to live apart from his wife, in supported accommodation, as he wanted her to be free to live her life, and not to be tied to his illness. I remember thinking at the time that this was a rather selfless gesture on his part, and one that not many people would make.

When I visited him today, he asked me about my conversation with his wife, and if she'd mentioned anything about funeral arrangements. I commented that she sounded understandably upset, and he winced, as if even at this advanced stage of his illness, he was still seeking to protect her.

He said to me, "your job must be taxing, having to have these kinds of conversations with people," but I reassured him that I consider it a privilege to be able to travel with people at such significant times in their lives, when they are often hurting and vulnerable.

It was certainly a privilege to share some conversation and prayer with this gentleman, and I hope I get to see him again.