summer solstice and John the Baptist [Sel's Swift Sermon series]

It's just past Summer Solstice here in Sydney: three days to Christmas 2020.

Sydney is in the throes of a COVID resurgence with restrictions on gathering and travelling for everyone in the Greater Sydney area - right before Christmas. Jupiter and Saturn are converging in the skies of Earth, and yesterday was the Summer Solstice down here in the Southern Hemisphere. It was cloudy and rainy and really not very summery at all. And, unfortunately, my usual group of friends who celebrate the sun seasons with a garden gathering and food and friendship had to forgo our Solstice gathering because of the COVID resurgence taking place in Sydney. We'll pick it up later, during the holiday season or possibly January.

But the Summer Solstice always makes me think of John the Baptist.

In the northern hemisphere, Litha - the Summer Solstice - is traditionally the birthday feast of Saint John the Baptist. There's two reasons for this - John the Baptist, cousin to Jesus Christ through their mothers, was born six months earlier, and since the celebration of Jesus' birth - Christmas - is at the Winter Solstice, the feastday of John is at the Summer Solstice, six months earlier.

The other reason is John's purpose in life: to prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah.

There's a moment in the gospels some time after John has baptised Jesus, when his disciples are watching people gather to Jesus now - a new and greater teacher to follow - and they're anxious and worried. But when they take their concerns to John, asking him to do something about the loss of disciples and his words are simply, "As He increases, so must I decrease."

John understood his place in the scheme of things. He understood transitions. He understood that he had to give up what scraps of pride or social standing he had gained, because he wasn't the Main Event, he was just the Warm-Up Act. Not the King, but merely the herald of one greater than himself, whose sandals he was not fit to tie.

And so, at the Summer Solstice, the days are the longest, and will slowly grow shorter and shorter, until we reach the longest night - Winter Solstice - when a dark world is lit up by the star of incarnation: deity become humanity, very nature God become very nature man.

As He increases, so must I decrease.

This can be harder to comprehend this in the Southern Hemisphere when our summer solstice is mere days away from our celebration of Christmas - or maybe easier - because the summer solstice also arrives before Christmas: heralding the coming of God. And the message has not changed over 2000 years.

Give up your old ways, make a public stand, trust in a God who came in human form - not to rule over us, not merely to bestow knowledge or a kinder way of living, but to serve us in love and the sacrifice of not only his life but his living for those he loved.

As He increases, so must we decrease.

It holds true for us, as much as for John the Baptist.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, a generous and bountiful solstice, and a Happy New Year to all of us.

assorted thoughts: failings of the western church

I wonder sometimes; do other Australian Christians see the faint echoes of themselves in the extreme of American Christianity? Or am I the only one?

Do they look at the well-worn warnings of "well, you can't trust the leftist, liberal media!" and not see that echoed in their dismissal of anything the ABC reports?

Do they look at the obsession with a leader who 'will take them to righteousness' and not see the echoes of "our Scott Morrison, defender of the Christian faith in (godless) Australia"?

Do they look at the obsession with our position, our standing, ourreputation, our freedoms and not see that echoed in the outrage that businesses can open and churches cannot, that children can have LGBTQIA explained to them in schools, that we can't functionally behave like nobody else's beliefs matter?

People are often bewildered by my interest in American politics.

The Americans are disdainful that anyone should care what they do; it's their country, they can do what they like! They have rights! Responsibility of leadership? Well, yes, they're leaders, but they don't do responsibility.

Australians, I think, side-eye me, because "well, they're just crazy in America". And yes, they are. I said once: "Hong Kong foams at the mouth; China foams in the brain." It was a Pterry reference, differentiating between 'mad' and 'insane'. These days, I'm more likely to think "China foams at the mouth, while America foams in the brain".

But America is our canary in the coal mine. Socially, politically, and, yes, spiritually. The faults and flaws of American Christianity are ones that we have in Australia - less dramatic, perhaps, but still there. Our reluctance to acknowledge racial divide, our unwillingness to concede our privilege, our inability to connect with people outside the faith in a spiritually meaningful way because we demand they come to us, on our ground - both physical ground of the church, and the spiritual ground of a Christian underpinning... These are all problems in the American churches and they are also problems in the Australian church, just in different dimensions.

The 'church of God' across the nations will survive this year, our lives, our family lines, our culture, and this earth. It may not survive it with the trappings of what we recognise as 'church' today - but how much would the Christians of the first and second centuries recognise our version of 'church', either?

I love my church and my church people, but I don't know how well we know how to 'reach' people outside our area. How to love them and let our love speak. And yes, we will eventually need to use words - when necessary - but I'm starting to think that the words should be employed later and later and only at a timely point.

I saw my cousin J last week while I was up visiting him in the NT. On his 40th birthday, we went to a couple of National Park pools and waterfalls and swam while a thunderstorm crackled overhead. It was amazing and awe-inspiring. And at one point, I turned to J and said, "You guys don't do church, do you? But do you remember that verse: The heavens declare the glory of God, the skies proclaim his works?" He remembered the hymn. I said it was a verse first, then added, "That's what I'm thinking of sitting here. The glory of God. Thanks for bringing me out here."

We turned the conversation after that, but a small dose of reminder was all I thought was needed at this time. I think his younger brother is still a believer, his older brother converted to Islam for his wife. And I have a vague memory that the younger brother castigated the older for converting. So the boys aren't close and there may be religious rifts. So I didn't think this was the right time.

We're still in the reconnection stage of things anyway: friendly and appreciated, but not close. Hopefully opportunities will come in future; I hope so.

abortion: a new way of thinking

I think late-term abortion needs to be legal.

Mostly because 90% of the situations in which late-term abortion would be considered necessary are already traumatic scenarios.

The baby was hoped for:

• carried for the majority of term - and then died in utero and needs to be removed from the uterus for medical reasons.
• something happend that impacted the safety of the mother and a medical procedure that risks the life of the child may be ncessary
• a medical condition to the child - both life threatening and 'merely inconvenient' - that means the parents no longer wish to have this child

Basically, the scenarios in which all but the most fervent anti-abortion proponents would say well, it's not the best situation, but maybe it's necessary are all ones in which there is already enough trauma. And then, onto this, the need to navigate the 'exceptions under which we will consider allowing an abortion' would be added - one more burden that serves no purpose except to make us believe that we've 'stopped evil'.

The legality of late-term abortions would mean that if someone truly doesn't want a pregnancy, they would have ended it much earlier. Because with the legality of abortion at any point in pregnancy comes improved contraception, improved health outcomes for women, less judgement of women facing hard life choices, fewer hurdles and therefore less anxiety when facing an uncertain pregnancy.

I'm not going into the 'she doesn't want the child anymore' option right here, because that's usually related to a serious change in circumstances - most usually relational/financial.

Both could be solved by financially and emotionally supporting mothers, particularly single ones, without qualification for whether they're the right colour or background or social status or personality. Just support mothers, nothing more. And local churches and Christians would be perfectly placed to provide the kind of community and support that such women need. An opportunity to show the love of Christ - and, perhaps (maybe, possibly, if the opportunity provides, but not as a requirement or precursor) share the gospel with her.

politics

Hitching ourselves to political power of any kind is a bad idea, but hitching ourselves to political power that enshrines Christianity as The Right Way To Live is a truly terrible idea. What we have - what we are - should be a choice, not an imperative. Civic Christianity is not at all radical, and while it is safe to hide behind civic religion, it guarantees neither devotion nor piety, merely slavish adherence to the show of things.

community: the modern evangelical's trip into Asia Minor to spread the gospel

I only thought of this comparison while writing the title to this post.

It was originally sparked by the news that Australians consider church authorities (generally) to be the least trustworthy of public leaders, with 75%+ of the general population distrusting church authorities. I wanted to say that we've been sitting in our comfortable enclaves, expecting others to come to us for the last half-century; now I think we're going to have to go out and meet society on its terms and wrestle with complicated living-it-out-in-love and not just back the safe this-is-what-the-bible-says-in-theory.

And it occurred to me that Paul went out of his comfort zone to tell the gospel. He didn't wait for non-Hebrew societies to beat down the doors of the believers in Jerusalem, he took the news out to other cities, dealt with people on their own turf, lived among them like they were worth his time and effort, and brought the gospel to them at the same time as his everyday living showed these people that they were valuable to him and valued by God - so much so that He sent His son.

It was the 'community of believers' that Paul created in each city: people with nothing more in common to each other than the grace of God. And they met and theologised over his writings and probably the Jewish teachings filtered through the lens of Jesus' ministry and the recountings of his teachings and actions, broke bread and prayed, and then went back out into their usual regular unbelieving communities, taking their 'gospel' with them.

I feel like this should have been the methodology of the modern Christian church, but it's kind of failed. Church events tend to require the community to come to us rather than us going out into the community. There are no church stalls

"If mission is the alerting of people to the reign of God through Christ, our mandate is to do whatever is required in the circumstances to both demonstrate and announce that kingship. We feed the hungry because in the world to come there will be no such thing as starvation. We share Christ because in the world to come there will be no such thing as unbelief. Both are the fashioning of foretastes of that world to come, none more or less valid or important than the other." - Michael Frost, Road to Missional - here -

politics in a time of COVID-19

The other day, I heard a friend voice what amounts to eugenics: "we can't let these old people, who've only a little while to live, dictate how our society goes foward!"

She's nice and white and middle class and conservative, and our politics are very much not aligned. In a nutshell, I think she represents the nice, well-intentioned yet oblivious surface of modern western Christianity.

It's like a comment I saw today in response to the discovery that the Melbourne/Victorian outbreaks may have been spurred by a hotel employee, not the security guard who had sex with a COVID-19 positive patient: "I see people calling for an apology to the Victorian Premier, but I don't think that he should be immune from criticism."

Criticism is one thing; dogpiling is another.

George Pell vs the media is dogpiling.

The Victorian Premier (centrist party, up against a conservative party with a 'Christian' leader) vs the media is "appropriate criticism".

I feel like Christians are so busy defending Scott Morrison from any bad press, that they're failing to understand just how bad is the press around their 'good Christian witness'. Nobody wants to just hear the gospel anymore - not when it's not accompanied by any other expression of love. So many Christians behave like not being able to talk about the gospel is a horrific thing. But what people want is to experience the love of God as shown through his people. They want to know that God loves them in all their broken misery - not that he's going to preach to them or tell them they're dirtybadwrong or their way or life is dirtybadwrong or that they need to improve and then God will love them...

And yes, what people hear with 'hate the sin, love the sinner' is that they and their lives are dirtybadwrong. Maybe it's technically correct, but in a society where you are what you eat and you are how you identify, WE NEED TO STOP USING THAT PHRASE OR WE'RE JUST SCREWING PEOPLE UP WHEN IT COMES TO FAITH.

"But eventually, you have to talk to them about the gospel!"

Yes. Yes, you do. But I wonder if Christians haven't gotten downright lazy once secular humanitarianism took over social justice, instead of thinking about what it meant to be 'made in the image of God' and what other things that might mean.

When Christians talk about social justice like it's dirty, when they back away into their spiritual enclaves in order to remain pure, when we're so busy pursuing political validity via our country's leadership - "Scott Morrison's doing such a good job! (offering marginal support and only to certain people, setting up a group to promote economic growth at the cost of social and environmental security, doing nothing to promote unity in leadership during the pandemic)" - that we can't really love our fellow people...

IDK. I'm just so tired. And sometimes I worry that sooner or later, the church I presently attend will no longer fit me when it comes to social justice concerns and facing outwards beyond the structures that we've become accustomed to as a church body and church culture.

Although we had a good talk about that at bible study the other week - largely related to Michael Frost's 'when you're alone at church' - I think we forget that loneliness is the expected separation from humanity, and while we can mitigate that in the church, sometimes becoming a clique isn't the answer.

gain the world; lose our soul

I honestly don't know if I'm completely in Denial or if my life really is just that good or if other people's lives are really just that Fucked.

I came online looking for things that I wasn't finding in real life. I didn't know I was looking for them, but I was. Geekiness, passion about creative endeavours, answers to questions I couldn't ask in my conservative upbringing and conservative church circles, and which I wasn't comfortable asking of my uni social group who always treated me like I was broken simply for coming from those circles.

I have never seen myself as broken. I just needed to know more than my circles were comfortable questioning. I like knowing what's circumscribed, the proscribed places, but then I want to see the proscribed places for myself.

Sometimes it feels like this isn't something that people understand - either online or offline. The people I know in 'meatspace' are happy where they are, okay not questioning, content with what they have, okay to presume that this is the way things should be for everyone because it works for them. The people I know online are discontented, frustrated, ground down - and with good reason to be so when you walk in their shoes.

And here I am, in the middle.

Okay with the system for me, not okay with it for the people who don't fit.

I'm way outside the comfort zone of my church friends in RL. Because if it works for us, then it should work for everyone! Don't you want it to work for everyone? (Yes, but it's not working for everyone, and a civic governance that can allow for difference - for diversity beyond traditional norms - makes society stronger. And, too, I think that in the absence of perceived cultural influence over our society, Christians seem to be reaching for political power in any form, even if it comes to them in a Christian guise and with Christian promises.

I'm way beyond the comprehension of people in fandom. Because don't I hate myself, what made me, the system, the situation? Don't I want to just escape it all by being something else? No. I don't want to be something else; I like what I am. And while it wasn't comfortable to get to where I am in many ways and I probably wouldn't do it willingly again, that experience is part of me.

But yes, I want to change the system so the people who didn't have the luck - yes, luck - to have the openings available that I could capitalise on (yes, I did work those opportunities when they came but the opportunities were available for me in the first place, which they aren't for so many others).

It's a difficult night tonight; a lot of job cuts, a lot of Murdochian lies, and a lot of casual and thoughtless cruelty, churches who seem to blindly praise and follow a leader who claims to be Christian and yet whose concern seems to be not about the poor or the widow or the fatherless, but about the glory of his government and the economic state of the country. Christians who are more concerned with love of Christian culture than they are with helping those whom no-one else will help.

It's not the valley of the shadow of death because I don't fear death.

I fear the hardening of our compassion, the closing of Christian hearts against 'the world' and the condemnation of everyone who doesn't agree precisely with us, and the society that has lost out as Christians greedily cling to political and temporal power to make up for our loss of cultural influence.

What does it help Christ's church to gain the whole world in politics and power but lose our tenderness of soul for those whom God loves?