It started with a chiro appointment in Two Rocks. I saw the chiro and then on the way home I saw the sign – GARAGE SALE – and I’m a bit of a sucker for a Two Rocks garage sale, because often there is stuff in those old houses that has been locked away for years that people just want rid of and you can pick up some real gems for next to nothing.

The garage sale was ok, but as I drove down the street I saw another ‘car boot’ sale – it was actually just one man with a trailer on a piece of land he had sold, but that was previously used to store his landscaping gear.

On his trailer sat 4 large tubs of irrigation equipment. It was aged and looked like it had been there for a while. I knew who he was – a local competitor who was over 70 now and clearly no longer concerned for keeping everything neat and in order. Surely there would be something of value in there…

‘How much?’ I asked

‘$20/crate’ he said or ‘$40’ if you take all 4.

I could see there was $40 worth of gear just sitting on the surface so I figured it was worth the gamble. I found the $40 in my centre console – 20 x $2 coins – and then loaded the 4 crates into my car and went home to see if there was anything else worth keeping in the piles of gear.

After sorting the first one I counted around $400 worth of parts and two hours later after sifting thru all that was there I had near enough $2K worth of gear. I guess I won’t be buying retic gear for a while.

So next time someone tells you a garage sale is just a way to play ‘musical junk’, remind them that occasionally there is treasure to be found!

The sabbath is kind of a big deal to God.

At least so it seems if you read Ezekiel and Jeremiah. Part of the reason the Hebrew people got bumped into exile was their failure to take the sabbath seriously. Yes – there was injustice and idolatry and they seem like the real biggies, but this morning as I was reading Ezekiel 20 I couldn’t help but notice the significance of the sabbath as a source of rebellion against God.

Of course we are no longer ‘under the law’ so Sabbath no longer matters to us… kind of… For every ‘temporary’ law it seems there is a timeless principle that we do well to observe and use as a guide to life.

In this case the Sabbath is about 3 things (possibly more) – rest, worship and trust.

God commanded the sabbath both for people and the land so that they could all rest and recover. Rest is good and necessary. It is ok to rest…

God commanded a sabbath as a day of worship – of recognising who he is and what he has done. He felt we needed at least one day a week to refocus and get our bearings again. To realign our lives with him.

And because God commanded a sabbath in practicing it we learn to trust – that he will provide – that if we don’t work that extra day we will still have enough. The classic example is of the Hebrew people in the wilderness who were told to collect just enough for each day and then on the eve of the sabbath to get enough for two days.

Its all very 700 BC, and yet at the same time its also all very 21st C AD. For the record I don’t believe we need to keep a literal sabbath. (SDA friends can argue with me now…) But I do believe there is a timeless principle in there that we can observe and benefit from.

It seems that we are now working longer hours than ever and we are more enabled to do so by virtue of technology. We can work from home, work in the car, work kinda anywhere. Finding time for work isn’t difficult – but finding time to stop is much harder.

I’m convinced we need to know ‘how to sabbath’ and I believe its more a way of life than a specific day or format. I used to practice a solid day of no work whatsoever, but more recently I have tried to live at a pace that is sustainable with regular breaks built in rather than just one solid day. I find this works pretty well.

I do have a practice of not taking calls on a Sunday for anything business related and I have been able to keep to that reasonably well. There are the odd occasion when you just need to help someone out – and therein is the ‘principle’ rather than a hard law.

A sustainable pace of life definitely facilitates worship moreso than a busy life. I’m not that good at sitting with God and listening – meditating and all that stuff – I’m better at cracking on and getting stuff done. But I know I need the stillness stuff to enable me to connect with him and to tune in. I’ve actually gone ‘analogue’ more recently with a paper Bible and pen and paper journal. Something about the digital experience just wasn’t working for me. Possibly the distraction factor – but possibly that I associate my tablet with work and entertainment so picking up my 30 year old NIV is more of an effort and also more intentional.

And then there’s the trust factor. This was hard for me initially when I was building a business. Any time the phone would ring I would feel anxiety over not returning the call immediately. I have worked out that in retic you usually have 2-4 hrs to get back in touch before someone else gets the job. So when the phone rings on a Sunday it’s almost certain I am going to miss out. But that’s where the trust factor kicks in and I have to believe that if there is a good God – who sees me – cares for me – and knows what I need then he is able to provide for my needs in one way or another.

Rest – worship – trust – all part of a Godly life and yet all deemed ‘desirable but not essential’ in our culture. Part of discipleship in this current world is to teach people these things again – to rest – because God rested and he calls us to ‘rest’ in every sense. Then to worship – to see someone as greater than ourselves and worthy of our heart’s affection. A self obsessed world doesn’t do this easily. And then to trust – to believe that if I rest all will still be ok… God has my life under control.

It’s pretty simple – but simple is always different to easy.

In a world of massive mortgages more working hours = more $$ and more chance of ‘getting ahead’ (at least until we upsize to a bigger mortgage yet again.) And as such rest is optional – nice if you can manage it – but often considered time wasted – time that could be spent earning. When life is lived in that vein its not hard to see what is being worshiped – and it isn’t Jesus… Our devotion to wealth and pleasure usually far outweighs our devotion to Jesus. And when we find ourselves ‘getting ahead’, its hard not to believe that we actually ‘pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps – nice work me!’

I could go on, but you get the idea.

Want to follow Jesus and live a counter cultural life? Then work hard, but then rest – worship – trust – repeat. Simple really – but simple is different to easy.

I reckon if you just do those 3 three things you will be well ahead of the curve.

After 8 years in the Yanchep place its time to fix up that ugly bathroom – the one we have grimaced at for years, thinking one day we will get around to it… But then never did. It’s easy when you don’t use it. The kids and guests see it, but I rarely set foot in there – except to fix leaky taps and the like.

But after several winters (my slow time) of saying ‘we must do it’, we committed to making this winter the time when ‘we’ – yeah Danelle and I – would rip the old stuff out and re-do it.

Then we looked closer – and we looked at the time we had available… (I have plenty but now she is working flat out) and we decided to get John in – because what will take us 6 weeks and end up ‘not bad for beginners’ will take John 4 or 5 days and will look schmick. And the beauty of it is that when we head over east in two days time he will have the house to himself and he can bang, crash and demolish to his heart’s content followed by re-newing and restoring.

As I write he is in there ripping the old tiles and gyprock off the wall to see what lies behind – moisture? Mould? White ants?… We wanted to be here for this part – to see what actually is behind our walls and whether we have any cause to worry. (Good news… its all fine…)

The fact is though – if you’re going to ‘re-build’ it involves some destruction – some smashing things up before you can actually create beauty again. Someone asked me recently what I thought of my days with Forge – a time of fairly brutal de-construction and at times demolition.

I remember when we first started Forge and there was no such thing as a ‘missional church’, and the idea took some time to get traction, but once it did… seriously – try and find a church or denomination anywhere that hasn’t now got the word ‘missional’ (if not the practice) somewhere in its core documents. It doesn’t actually mean they are practicing ‘missional’ stuff but they have at least learnt the language.

That said, it took some ripping down to rebuild – some smashing apart of church as we knew it before we were in a place to rebuild without the old ideas in place and limiting our path. For some that was more brutal than others. Our own journey took us to a fairly ‘extreme’ place as we created Upstream and moved 5 families into a suburb together to be a missionary community – to start again from the ground up with mission as our guiding principle. In the process of doing that we forced ourselves into a place of having to genuinely grapple with the questions of missiology and ecclesiology we had previously taken for granted. One simple decision – to not meet on a Sunday for at least two years – was itself a significant circuit breaker for those who were in a lifetime of routine.

When I look back on Upstream it is always with a sense of failure – because we didn’t achieve what we set out to achieve (success would be actually achieving what you set your sights on), but along the way there was the accidental / unintended achievement of permanently re-wiring my own mind in such a way that I could never again just think ‘church’.

When we left Upstream in 2009 to go and lead Quinns Baptist our team had shrunk to just 2 or 3 families and we were running out of puff. The decision to join Quinns was made with the idea that as we led these guys we would take them on a missional trajectory – we weren’t up for just ‘running church’. But two years of in-fighting and silliness wore us down. We ended up just ‘running church’ to survive. It was a dark time but we didn’t sense we had ‘permission’ to leave or we would have been out of there in a flash. So we hung around and ran church and just did what we could to try and make the ship seaworthy again.

In that time we were not intentionally missional – but we were ‘missional’ because the ideas and practices had so deeply embedded in our own psyche that we couldn’t be anything other. We moved to Yanchep in 2011 to enter a new stage of life in a place we hoped would be refreshing and renewing – it has been all that and more. Again we didn’t come here intending to be missionaries – but I don’t think we know any other way to live now.

I remember seeing the video of the guy with the ‘unridable bike’. He reversed the handlebars so that to turn right you actually had to make what would normally be a left turn. It’s impossible to do – at least not without many many hours of practice. But once you learn to ride a bike ‘in reverse’ it’s then equally impossible to go back. (Watch the video – you’ll get the idea.)

I am no longer connected with Forge or the ‘missional’ movement in any significant way. I no longer read ‘missional’ books – it would be like reading books on how to drive a car. There’s no animosity there and no ill will. It was one of the most significant and formative times of my life – but it has done its job. I am riding the bike differently now – and I doubt I will ever venture back.

In the midst of our time with Forge my mate Stuart told me that he felt Forge was a ‘prophetic’ movement – in much the same way as the Vineyard was (his own tribe). The Vineyard ‘called us back’ to core ideas like worship, the kingdom of God and the place of the poor (how did we veer from that stuff anyway?…) and once churches had embraced this stuff the Vineyard started to look like everybody else – or – everybody else caught up and adjusted their own priorities to accomodate some apparently ‘new’ concepts.

As a prophetic movement Forge called the church to refocus on mission as central to the heart of God and it framed up various practices and core ideas that would identify us as being on that journey. I ‘swallowed the red pill’ and never looked back. And I’m so grateful to those who did the initial demolition and ground clearing to make it possible. Now we have many people claiming to be ‘missional’, but honestly… I’m not sure that reading the books and speaking the language is the same thing as actually doing it.

Unless you get on the bike and try to ride it differently all you are doing is giving the ‘old bike’ a new coat of paint – or ‘putting lipstick on a pig’ as we delicately called it some years back. If you want to be ‘missional’, then the first step is identifying that you’re not – and realising why you’re not. Then there’s the will to change – unless there is a will to change (and a community to do it with) then you will not do it. Some people will make it on their own – but not many.

But if you’re going to make a significant change then chances are you will have to peel back the layers that are there and then check out what is holding it all together. It will involve some demolition – whether that’s gentle or more aggressive is up to you… But there is no changing without shedding the old. It’s just how life works.

Sloppy discipleship is everywhere. Literally everywhere…

I know… that’s a harsh, blunt and somewhat unpastoral statement, but I’m just a bit over it. I’m tired of excusing laziness, apathy and busyness in the name of being pastoral. I’m weary of conversations with long term believers that lack any kind of new learning and insight, or even the anticipation of something resembling joy and passion.

And what does a culture of sloppy discipleship breed?

You guessed it… More sloppy discipleship and when we’re all playing then no one gets to question it and say ‘hey isn’t the life of faith supposed to somewhat more challenging, inspiring and even demanding?’

But really – is this what we want?

It struck me today again as I was reading a piece in Eternity magazine about Jordan Peterson’s presence at the PragerU 2019 Summit (just $1500/ticket…) I must confess I have never read a Peterson book or listened to a Peterson lecture. He just doesn’t feel like my kinda guy. That said, I know many Christians seem to laud him as a hero and prophet, even though he makes no claims to faith. In fact it was his reason for not believing that sparked me to write this post.

When asked why he is not a Christian he responded with:

I thought, well … who would have the audacity to claim that they believed in God? If they examined the way they lived, who would dare say that?”

Ouch!… That’s a brutal statement. Who would have the audacity to claim that their daily life actually reflects a belief in the kind of God they espouse? It stopped me in my tracks and caused me to reflect again ‘what evidence is there of God in my own everyday life?’ Some days I think I can sleep easy and other days not so much.

But by and large I feel we tolerate a lot of insipid and lack lustre Christian living as the norm and we get excited when someone actually starts to live with heartfelt passion. What’s with that?

The article goes on to quote Peterson again saying “So while I try to act like I believe, I never claim that I manage it.”

So to some degree Peterson is refusing to wear the badge because he is unable to consistently live in such a way that he could legitimately call himself a Christian.

And this is where it gets messy…

Because it’s kinda the point of the whole thing – that we can’t do it and there was this bloke called Jesus, the whole deal with the cross, forgiveness, grace etc… But maybe we have allowed grace to be a ‘get out of jail free’ card for people just too lazy/busy/indifferent to commit to rigorous discipleship?

If you’ve been feeling like I’ve been sinking the boots in a little with this post then you’re right I have – quite intentionally – and if you happen to be one of those insipid and lazy Christians then take it as a rocket…

You’re welcome…

When a person refuses to follow Jesus because he doesn’t feel he could actually live up to the call, but many of us claim to follow but with no evidence of transformed lives then we need to examine ourselves and ask what we have created.

Is this really Christianity?

What does that mean practically?

I feel like we have this default yardstick of Bible reading, prayer and church attendance – and to a large degree they have been inadequate metrics for assessing discipleship. But while they are poor measures they are good practices that if done with consistency will generally give us a foundation for living faith more consciously each day. If we position ourselves in a community that wrestles with the scriptures and that isn’t afraid to ask hard questions of application then we may well find ourselves inspired to live this counter-cultural life of discipleship. Of course the opposite is true too – remove yourself from community and spiritual disciplines and that will have the inverse effect.

In my business I have a basic rule that I try to embed in anyone who works for me. That is ‘we work as if we were Jesus and we treat the client as if they were Jesus.‘ It’s a really simple guide, but its actually helped me articulate a business philosophy as well as enabling me to behave in a Christlike way in the everyday challenges of life.

I would agree with Peterson when he said, “So while I try to act like I believe, I never claim that I manage it.” I too certainly wouldn’t claim to ‘manage it’ like I would hope. The difference between us however is that I have had a grace encounter that reminds me that I am loved, forgiven and saved no matter the ‘standard of my work’.

When we get too hardline on the performance end of discipleship we can actually miss the point of the cross, but when we swing too far into grace territory we can feel unable to call people to live lives that look more like Jesus.

And so the eternal wrestle continues – how to call people to radical discipleship in a culture of beautiful grace

Its gotta be possible.

If there is one thing that is a given in life it’s that we will get things wrong. We will screw up and fail – repeatedly – even intentionally. We are broken people and we will always behave as such.

This almost brought me undone.

The idea of returning to God each time I failed – especially when I had failed by own volition just felt ridiculous – obscene even. If I were God I’d have given up on me! I’d have shoved me away and said come back when you’re serious – when you actually want to change.

I was creating God in my own image – reasoning that ‘If I were God I’d be done with me.’ If if were God then I’d surely draw the line somewhere.

Unbounded forgiveness just felt dumb – ridiculous and completely undeserved (which of course was the point).

It was a very dangerous headspace to be inhabiting because it led me to considering just giving up – giving in and giving myself a ‘concession’ on some of my struggles.

This was a bit of a sticking point in my faith for a few years, and I’m not sure of how I moved on, but eventually I came to the realisation that this is actually the point of the gospel – that I am never going to be the picture of a perfect human being. I am always going to be broken and flawed and I am always going to be forgiven.

I was mistaking grace for stupidity on God’s part. I was taking him for a fool – creating him in my own image.

As I came to this realisation those times of ‘doh did it again’ or of sorrowful repentance became times of experiencing great grace – of revelling in God’s forgiveness rather than my own lack of capacity.

As my take on God shifted so did my experience of grace and as my experience of grace increased, so my image of God was also reformed.

‘This’ God is no mug – no soft touch – he’s just unbelievably and wonderfully gracious and that is good news.

I’ve often been a keen reader of historical fiction – a great way to learn history and enjoy a story at the same time. But Ian McEwan’s Machines Like Me was the first ‘ahistorical’ (if there is such a genre) novel that I have come across.

It is set in 1982 and Britain has just lost the Falklands War… yeah… I thought they won it too! I had to check but once I did I realised I was reading a novel that was going to bend and contort history at will (important if you are considering it!)

The novel centres around Charlie Friend, a fairly hopeless and aimless day trader who has just used his inheritance to purchase one of the first batch of ‘synthetic humans’ loaded up with the latest in artificial intelligence capabilities. The key player in the creation of these ‘robots’ is Alan Turing, who (in this story) did not suicide but went on to use his genius in the development of these creatures.

So we have a semi-sci-fi story set in an alternate history which is more technologically advanced than we currently are.

The story revolves around the relationship between ‘Adam’ the Android and Charlie and his girlfriend Miranda. Adam was one of 25 of the first batch of Androids created – 12 male, 13 female and of varying ethnicities. Charlie is able to ‘program ‘ Adam’s personality to some degree, however he chooses to only do half of what is required and leaves the rest to Miranda.

Without giving away too much of the plot, what we see developing is a robot with AI who learns as he interacts, who ‘learns’ feelings and develops a conscience. Of course Miranda uses him for sex – which confuses both Adam and Charlie. She compares him to sex toy, but somehow Charlie can’t live with that explanation. And it turns out Adam finds it equally confusing.

An intriguing aspect of the story is the ‘suicide’ of 4 of the robots, who after learning about human existence with all of its faults and complexities decide that logically ‘non-existence’ is a better option. In one sense it’s a dark commentary on life as we know it. Yet the fact that many of us choose to continue despite the darkness says there must be joy in life that is found beyond sheer intellectual processes – that AI simply can’t grasp the depth of what it means to be human.

As Adam grows he learns and he becomes more human each day. He is physically indistinguishable from other people and it’s only his slightly awkward (autistic like) interactions that occasionally give him away. His redemption and means of avoiding his own demise is that he falls in love with Miranda and he learns to write poetry – haikus, both of which embue him with a level of humanity that resists self destruction.

I’ll stop there before I give too much of the plot away, but if you want a novel that is a little mind bending then this one is certainly worth a read. And it would make you think twice before allowing any AI into your life!

At some point in my final year of school I remember feeling that it was necessary for me to tell a girl by the name of Denise that she was going to hell – because she was a catholic and (in my view) not actually a ‘Christian’.

I was 16 and of Irish Protestant descent so I was an authority on these things…

Denise didn’t take it well – nor did her mum who I later discovered got quite angry with me. I didn’t back down though. It was clear – black and white to me and I was doing her a favour in helping her understand where her eternal destiny was headed. She never thanked me…

I don’t tell people they are going to hell any more. That one incident tempered my zeal and I eventually grew out of the need to do Gods work for him. I also realised that the task of judgement is far more nuanced than a young fundamentalist is capable of navigating.

I wasn’t much interested in the Israel Folau case when it first developed, but it has slowly become a fascinating study in what is going down in our world with regard to the politics of language – particularly religious language.

At face value it was a high profile athlete making a statement on his Instagram account airing his views on who would go to hell – but also calling people to repent

One of those ‘hell bound’ groups listed was ‘homosexuals’, but they were alongside liars, drunks and idolators and several other fairly large groups. In short most of us are apparently on the same train.

However Folau’s statement was bald, crass and badly in need of a context. On one level it’s completely untrue. I have been guilty of lying, drunkenness and idolatry but I don’t believe I am bound for Hell (however you see Hell) Jesus’ death on the cross freed me from my own failings.

What is interesting though is that the only term of concern to the critics was the one related to same sex activity. Adulterers and fornicators weren’t up in arms even though the same standard was applied to them.

While these two sins may ‘pass’ with no fuss, in today’s tetchy culture you dare not transgress with a suspect comment on same sex relationships.

Folau has fallen foul of the culture police and it seems he will be made an example of – to warn others who may be inclined to be equally foolish.

So there are numerous issues being considered here:

a) Folau’s contract breach – it seems Folau’s comments are in some way a breach of his contract with Rugby Australia and therefore able to be penalised. The question seems to be whether it was a ‘dumb thing to do’ and worthy of a ‘grow up and behave like an adult’, kind of reprimand, or (as it is being interpreted), a ‘high level breach ‘ and worthy of termination as Rugby Australia have deemed it. Obviously this is their interpretation of what constitutes ‘high level’, but I am sure many onlookers are wondering about where the bar is set and who gets to set it – or interpret its ‘height’…

b) Maturity – Folau isn’t a child, but sometimes we adults still do things that are childish in their nature. It has been said repeatedly that Folau’s faith is ‘fundamentalist’ in its form and people of that ilk (like my 16 year old self) are given to jarring, un-nuanced statements . It wasn’t particularly helpful on any level, (I doubt that liars, fornicators and thieves are repenting in droves) but it reflects the religious culture that he is part of. I’m sure some of the people around him who are less embedded in that strong fundamentalist environment might have said ‘hey Israel – maybe think twice in future as it isn’t really helping anyone.’

c) Theology- I’m not wanting to be pedantic, but it just isn’t a complete statement. It may be true – it may not be true. There will be liars, homosexuals, drunks etc in heaven as well as in hell. The only difference is that the ones in heaven will be forgiven and redeemed.

d) Language – It seems that this post has been interpreted as ‘hate speech ‘ towards gay people and as a result deemed to be ‘wrong/destructive/evil’. In our easily offended culture maybe these are strong words, but Folau is simply quoting his religious text. Alan Jones has written at length on this so I won’t try to repeat all of his arguments, but it does seem a massive stretch to categorise this as ‘hate speech’ and therefore worthy of the most severe punishment. Jones’ observation regarding the role of Alan Joyce in this is significant – an openly gay man at the helm of Rugby Australia’s main sponsor who does seem to wield an inordinate amount of power.

So in short my own views:

⁃ If it’s a clear breach of contract and Folau knew that what he was doing was a provocative act then he needs to just cop that and move on. But a life ban for something like this?… I smell something more than a concern for justice at work there.

⁃ It wasn’t a smart or helpful thing for Folau to do in any culture, let alone the one we are currently navigating. That’s not weak, or compromising. It’s acknowledging that for our words to heard they need to be said in a way that resonates with the hearers – even the hard stuff.

⁃ Someone should take Folau aside and explain to him both how theology works and also how language works. He is good at rugby but not so good at speaking faith to culture. Maybe he should be advised to stay off social media until he has a strong grasp of how his posts will be perceived. He hasn’t done any of us any favours with this post.

⁃ We are clearly living in treacherous times and the reaction to Folau’s post has drawn some cultural battle lines. Are Christians no longer allowed to quote their Bible if it brings offense to the reader? And who then gets to determine what is considered offensive and what is ok. If you offend me are you legally culpable for my feelings?…

⁃ While I would consider Folau unwise in his original post, I support his refusal to back down or retract his comments. It’s no longer just a case of contract breach- it’s become a test case for freedom of speech – for all…

Perhaps this period in history will be remembered as the time when we Christians become the minority – where we learnt afresh what it is like to be marginalised and persecuted – to stand on the outer and have no voice. Perhaps that will be good for us.

If this is the direction we are headed then I can only imagine it will further the cause of the gospel. If you’ve ever been told not to read ‘that book’ or associate with ‘those people ‘ then chances are your curiosity will be aroused and you will be more likely to learn about them as a result of your own initiative. Suddenly boring and beige becomes intriguing again…

To know our best move however is tricky. If we roll over on this then what’s next? If we fight then how are we perceived?

It’s something of a no-win,

Latest news has Folau standing by his statements and unwilling to yield – in the name of speaking truth. Wisdom would suggest that he may like to gather some older people around him who can give him counsel and direction in regards to his capacity for influence via social media and from there he may like to delete that twitter account and start again, not because he has recanted or changed his views, but just because some things don’t need to be said that way in public.

In the midst of all the argy bargy there has been precious little grace from either side. Perhaps this is the missing element in a conversation of this sort- and maybe it’s down to Israel to go first? What would that look like I wonder?

That’s how long I’ve been doing this whole ‘pastor’ thing… the longest I have done anything for. It actually even sounds like a long time doesn’t it?

Before becoming a pastor I was a Phys ed teacher for 9 years. Phys Ed teaching was great – I loved my time at Kingsway and at Scarborough (my first year at Wagin was a hard year and a super sharp learning curve!) but after those 9 years I’d kinda had enough. At that time I was a part time teacher and part time youth pastor at Scarborough Baptist – both were 3 day roles and both were ‘exploding’ jobs.

If you loved your job, as I did back then then you could just keep working and working and working…  and I did just that. I had a pretty high capacity for work, but my marriage didn’t have anywhere near the same capacity and Danelle and I nearly parted company on a few occasions. In 1996 I finally gave teaching away and went back to study again – this time a theology degree while I continued to work part time as a pastor.

I spent the next 7 years at Lesmurdie Baptist church in a youth pastor role for 5 years before transitioning to a senior leadership role in 2001. I never really felt like a pastor for most of my first 12 years in church leadership and it was only in that final part of my time at Lesmurdie that it dawned on me why. I had never set out to be a pastor – but to be a missionary – an overseas missionary in the Philippines. It was just that things didn’t quite go to plan in that venture and I ended up working in my own church with young people.

In the final two years of time at Lesmurdie my vocation as a missionary was rekindled via a prophetic message and also a rather serendipitous adventure to join the Forge crew. That ‘calling’ sparked in ways I wasn’t ready for, culminating in a sharp resignation and a new venture.

In 2003 we headed off to plant a church in Butler. I was going to be a local missionary (and hence this blog was born). I also went back to teaching at Kingsway because we needed me to get a job, but I just didn’t have the passion for it. In fact it was a terrible grind and not good for me or the school. They didn’t renew my contract and I wouldn’t have signed it if they had.

For around 6 years I led our team at Upstream as we tried to plant a church and figure out suburban mission. It was harder than I had anticipated – but that’s another story… In that era I did some work with Forge, as both state director and then national director for a spell. I also did some coaching work for the Baptist churches – spending time with youth pastors and trying to help them get focused in ministry as well a discussing the challenges it brought. Both of those roles were hugely fulfilling, although the constant need to raise funds for the Forge role often left me drained. Towards the end of our Upstream era I began a hobby business in reticulation and spent a few hours a week trying to make some money in that space. I started to really enjoy the challenge of both physical work and the problem solving required in the retic game.

With Upstream winding up we took self funded long service in 2009 and travelled around Oz for 6 months, thinking that the $250K we had invested while we were gone was going to return 40% and we would come home better off than when we left. The GFC came along and instead of making 100K we lost the lot. That was a bummer because it was borrowed money…

We came back to a new role, leading Quinns Baptist Church and it felt like a good fit. Danelle and I were the ‘senior pastors’ and ready for a new challenge. Leading a church that came ready made with 2 rival factions (unbeknownst to us) was harder than we anticipated and it took 2 years before we started to see any green shoots of hope.

In those early days I didn’t think we would last 10 years in this role. It began difficult and got harder. But then after bottoming out we turned a corner and began to establish a core of good people committed to the mission of the church in the area. From around 2012 onwards the church began to feel healthy and like it had purpose. We began to enjoy our roles – thankfully.

It was good to have my reticulation business running alongside the church as it kept me earthed in the everyday lives of a range of people – many of whom were local. That sense of missionary vocation has never once waned – a dream of seeing Australian people come to an experience of Jesus and his kingdom that transforms them and the world around them. But interestingly these days I have started to feel more like an actual pastor for the first time in 28 years. By that I mean that I have genuine deep love for the people God has put me in community with. When someone hurts I feel it. When a family leaves its painful. When someone has a win I feel the need to celebrate with them.

Maybe it’s a maturity thing – maybe it’s a longevity thing. I dunno. In the last year we planted a church again and I’m happy to call myself one of the pastors – because I am. I now intentionally and happily  ‘pastor’ whereas before I used to leave it those who were more gifted and that way inclined.

As I look to the future I can feel my body wearing out – my knees and back are both fairly cactus from 10 years of hard labour – but my sense of calling to lead and plant churches is as strong as its ever been.

My hope is that with 28 years down I am about halfway in this ‘pastoring’ thing – yeah I don’t have ‘retirement plans’, and my hope is that the best is yet to come.

I never set out to be a pastor – just a phys ed teacher… But here I am – and with no regrets.

A part of me smiled wryly on Wednesday when I got back to the lagoon car park and saw my two week old car had been swiped by someone else and there was no note offering insurance details or claiming responsibility.

I was a little bit pissed and also a little bit ‘meh’. It happens and sooner or later my shiny car was going to get less shiny and less new. This was a little quicker than I had hoped… And the really annoying part was that the cost to repair was exactly equal to the excess on my insurance policy.

Lose – lose…

So why was I smiling?

It took me back to a moment around 7 years ago when I entered the car park at IGA Quinns Rocks with my trailer in tow. At the end of a long days work I dropped in to pick up some food. As I left, my trailer scraped the white car next me. It didn’t feel bad, but a little bit of the gunmetal grey of my trailer was definitely showing on the clean white bumper.

I’d like to say it was negligible- but in truth it was scratched. It was damaged. I looked at the car – considered my options and then hopped back in and drove off.

Yep… I did it… ‘What a complete BASTARD!!’ you are thinking.

Yes.

I agree. It was pretty low.

I actually drove off – told myself ‘it will polish out’ and I hit the road for home.

Sometimes we make bad decisions hey? Sometimes impulse just takes us into dark places and we have to live with the regret.

I chatted about it with Danelle as I knew I’d screwed up. I was ashamed and stunned at my own ability to be so selfish and cold. But what can do you do at that point?

Nothing really unless the next two times you visit that car park you see the same car parked there – and it’s obvious it’s the same car because it’s got your grey paint still smeared along the bumper.

I realised it was probably someone who worked in the shopping centre so I now had the chance to go and apologise – or not…

My first stop was the local Real Estate agent, who I did reticulation work for. I saw the receptionist.

‘Umm, just wondering if anyone here owns a white corolla with plate no ‘xzy’.

Got it in one.

‘Yeah – that’d be Jane. Do you want to see her?’

‘Yes please.’

‘What shall I say it’s in regard to?’

‘Her car.’

‘Her car?’

‘Yes – she’ll understand.’

I was shown thru to an open office of 5 or 6 property managers and agents and Jane was there in the first booth.

I explained what had happened and apologised profusely for being a dick. And she laughed…

She laughed…

And then she told the girl next to her who had been quietly listening in anyway ‘You know how my car got swiped the other day? This is the guy who did it!’ And she laughed…

The word spread around the office and everyone took a look at ‘that guy’ and they laughed… I just smiled at my introduction, hoping none of them recognised me, both relieved and ashamed at the same time.

She actually didn’t care about her car.

‘Here’s my card and my details for insurance or for the cost of repairs. Just send me the bill’

She laughed again. ‘Ah don’t worry about it. It’s only a car! It will get plenty of other dings.’

I wasn’t one bit convinced she meant it – so I pressed her. ‘No look – my bad – double bad in fact- so please let me fix it’

She wouldn’t have a bar of it. Too much hassle with panel beaters – ‘thanks for dropping in – it’s given me a laugh’ – and that was it.

‘Well in case you change your mind’ I said and I left my business card with her.

I never did hear back from her. I guess these days she drives a white car with some gunmetal grey trim around the bumper. I left the office a bit embarrassed but with a weight lifted. I had been able to apologise and attempt to put things right.

So this week, when I saw my car – and no note left to claim responsibility I chuckled (a little) because out there someone is carrying the weight of knowing they have screwed up and left someone else with a bill they shouldn’t have to pay.

Maybe one day they will also see my car in the car park and we will have a similar conversation… and if we do I hope I can show the same grace that woman showed me.

And she’s right – it is just a car – a new one maybe – but there really are bigger fish to fry in life.

(And if you’ve ever done a similar runner and want to get it off your chest feel free to comment! I will hear your confession and absolve you of all wrongdoing:)

Last weekend my friend ‘J’ took his 14 year old son out for a weekend of ‘initiation into manhood’. He had him sleep out in the bush alone on Friday night and then spent Saturday and Sunday with him as he drove him to spend time with different men around the city. 

I was one of those who had the privilege of spending time with his son. The brief was simple – impart some wisdom – share some learning. Nothing concrete or specific, but just whatever you feel is going to be helpful.

To be honest I was drawing some blanks as I don’t know his son that well. But I finished up with a rough plan.

We would go to the ‘blue table’, a spot at my local beach where I often go to pray, think or just chill and I’d give him a couple of things to ponder. I chose the blue table because I reckon we all need a space where we go to enter a different headspace. In Lesmurdie days I had the ‘Lion’s Lookout’ on Welshpool Rd, in Butler days I would take the 4WD down the undeveloped bush tracks to the beach and up here in Yanchep its become the blue table.  I encouraged him to find his own ‘blue table’ where he could go to pray, chill and connect with God.

So we went there and I gave him two things to do. The first involved figuring out the ‘big rocks‘ in his life and drawing a picture to show how these were connected. He got that idea pretty quickly and then we moved on to discuss the ‘end game’ – how he wanted his life to look when he was my age. I figure mid 50’s is time time when you have probably made the best of your life so I was wondering how he would frame his life up.

The big rocks stuff was a pretty stock conversation, but then I left him to consider how he wanted his life to look in his 50’s. Stop for a moment and consider what you would write in response to this. And then ponder what you’d imagine a 14 year old boy might say.

I imagined we would be chatting about career, family, faith and achievements. 

Not so.

I gave him as long as he needed to sketch out what he wanted his life to look in his 50’s and after 5 minutes he called out ‘ok finished’.

I came back and he had written just 5 words.

Generosity

Kindness

Selflessness

Helpfulness

Wisdom

Wow!… I didn’t anticipate this response at all. I hadn’t considered that someone might frame life this way. He had told me the kind of person he wanted to be rather than what he wanted to have done or accomplished. 

Honestly – I was inspired! Rather than listing the Ferrari, big house and hot wife, he went for character qualities. I dunno if he understood just how significant his response was, but if he becomes this kind of person in his 50’s then he will have lived life well.

So we went on to chat about how you become generous, kind, selfless and wise – the practices and disciplines you build into your life now to ensure it reaches this destination in 40 years time.

Couldn’t the world do with more generous, kind, selfless, wise men and a few less Ferrari chasing types?

Go well Z!