Gabriel

Over at Faith*In*Fiction, and through Infuze Magazine, they're having a Christmas story competition. Now I haven't written anything substantial in the way of fiction since high school, but I thought this might be a good way to start practicing again. I hope you like it.

"Gabriel", He called me. He always used my full name. Others called me Gabe or Gaby or Ria maybe. But He always used my full name.

"Gabriel". And He always calls twice, which I don't quite understand. I mean, does He think I can't hear Him? His voice is plain and clear to those who want to listen. Does He think I won't respond? I was created to respond. What other choice is there?

"Gabriel, I have a message for you."

"Yes, I'm listening."

“Gabriel, I want you to appear to Zachariah, whom I love. There I will give you my message.”

“Earth, Lord? It’s been such a long time.”

“Yes Gabriel. It’s time. Be joyful! Wonderful things are happening.” With His blessing He sent me out.

It had been a while. I remembered the long days of dwelling on earth when He himself would visit His creatures. In those days He’d use me more often: messages to his people; appointments and ceremonies; inspiration to give Him their best praise and worship; speaking to his chosen to bring them all home. Those were busy days, days I’ll never forget. Days that started a long road, He said, days in which He never stopped working.

I sometimes wonder if He rests. He never seems to. He did once, that I know of, at the end of creation. Everything was good. There was no evil, no disappointment, no fight to be fought. Then He rested. It was good. We played. We worshipped. He dwelt amongst us, amongst them. Now He is always working. There is so much to do, He says, so much to win back.

Earth is not far, yet it is so different to Heaven. Be joyful, He told me. Over what, I wondered. Even the brightest days are dim, and those that dwell in His presence are so few. Those He called as His own were now a long way off, and disappearing further into their own self concern. I watched a man sitting by the side of the road, crying out and reaching for things unseen. People didn’t stop. They didn’t help. One of their own was in pain, trouble and need, and all they could do was walk by. He had said wonderful things were happening, but what was this?

I waited for Zachariah in the Temple, and coldness came over me. It wasn’t so much the presence of evil as the lack of God. Surrounded by stone with few adornments and little light, it felt hard to believe that He would meet him here. It was so sterile. Infertile. Barren.

When Zachariah entered I noticed how low he hung his head. He had been chosen to offer the yearly sacrifice, a great honor. I waited. Never once did he look up, and whilst going about his duties not once was he truly in worship. And yet, He had said He loved him. Zachariah walked about the chamber mumbling prayers, beating his heart, and burning a meager amount of incense. The fire was failing, threatening to go out. The coals were growing cold.

Still I waited. Zachariah was preparing to leave when I appeared. “Zachariah, be bold and strong, for the Lord your God loves you.”

The poor man was paralyzed with fear. He dropped the incense burner on the floor, making a loud clang, and reverberating throughout the silence. Finally he looked up at me, the first real sign of God in this place, and then quickly looked away, embarrassed and afraid. He groped on the floor for the burner.

“Zachariah, do not be afraid. I have a come from the Almighty, who gives you this message.” It was always like this. He spoke to me when the time was needed, neither before nor after, but in the moment. It was fresh, strong and powerful. It was lovely, tender and passionate.

“Do not be afraid. Your prayers have been heard. Elizabeth, your wife, will bear a son from you. Name him John. Be happy! Leap for joy! Shout and sing to God for His blessings to you! Many will delight in his birth. He will achieve great stature with God, and do great things for Him. He will be filled with His Holy Spirit from the time he leaves his mother’s womb.”

Still was he in awe. As he listened his eyes grew wider and slowly lifted to meet my own. Yet his face remained dark and puzzled. Why would he not believe? This was incredible news! God Himself was intervening in his life!

There was more. “Many of Israel’s children will return to God because of him. He will prepare them for God’s own arrival in the style and strength of Elijah. Parents and children will be reconciled, and skeptics swayed towards God. By John will the people be ready for His coming.”

What was this, now? What is this message? God’s own arrival? Was He finally bringing His creation home? Praise to the Father of all mankind!

Finally Zachariah spoke, stumbling over his words. “What? How can this be? This can’t be right! I am too old, and Elizabeth has been barren for years! How can you expect me to believe this? You have the wrong man!” He hung his head again and shook it from side to side, mumbling, “No, No. I don’t believe it.”

“I am Gabriel, the messenger of God. He sent me to bring you this incredible news!” The poor, broken man would not allow himself to believe. Where was the joy? Where was his delight? God was granting him his heart’s desire, and glorifying Himself through it!

“Zachariah, everything is possible with God. But as you won’t believe you won’t say a word until the day your son is born. Be silent before God and man!” He fell prone to the floor, and as he rose he looked up to me as if to speak. His mouth opened and he gestured for words, but nothing came. Confusion, anger, and wonderment all covered his face. His very demeanor changed from an empty, dutiful servant, to a marveling child of God. Perhaps there was hope in Zachariah.

“What I have spoken will be true in God’s time. You’ll see, and then you’ll speak.” And I left.

I could not wait to return to Heaven, to His side. There was so much to do, to be said, to bring about. God was at work! “Be Joyful!” He said. “Wonderful things are happening!”

Liar, Lunatic, or Living God?

I don't care who you are. You have to deal with Jesus at some point.

I want to be truthful, and right, and honest. Its a lofty goal, and a good one, I think. But it's also really hard to do. Lets face it, we all, myself included, would rather lie and cheat and take the easy way out if we could get away with it. We know that being truthful right down to our core is necessary.

So then, there are certain things I can't ignore if I'm going to be honest. The answers to these questions shape how I will live. Once I know these questions, ignoring them is living a lie. If they are not resolved, I'm fooling myself that they don't matter, when they do matter. They matter very much, because they define who I am. Am I a lie, or am I truthful? Things like poverty and opulence; power and democracy; and even honesty and lying. What is the value of each? In which way do I want to live my life? What are the results of living each way? If I know the answers, even unconsciously, in my inner most being, I can live my life and be happy with it, rather than challenge.

Which brings me back to my first statement. You have to deal with Jesus. This is an important person. He changed our times, literally, to B.C. to A.D. (Or B.C.E or C.E., if that feels more comfortable to you - its the same demarcation however, regardless how what you call it.) He turned the world upside down and started something that hasn't stopped. It didn't take years to take off. It wasn't a timid, local, or restrained movement. The followers of Jesus took the world by storm. They were so convinced by their beliefs that many died for them. Would you do that for capitalism? Communism? A political party?

So what's it going to be? Look at his life:

• Claimed he was God
• Healing and other miracles
• reportedly rose from the dead

I challenge you: look at the evidence. Don't just ignore this, or you are living as a lie. There are a few choices: Liar, Lunatic, or actually was who he said he was.

Ever been a liar? Ever get caught out by your own lies? When I (try to) lie I have to keep it simple. No big claims. No major differences. Only little things work as lies, and even then it's pretty dodgy. Anything bigger than a small adjustment is just going to come back and bite you. One way or another a lie won't stack up to the truth. But what Jesus talked about was big things. Life and death issues. Big events. Big claims. If he were lying on those things there would've been some evidence, something that contradicted him. Surely someone would've worked that out by now. I mean, come on, it's been 2000 years, give or take. But I can't find it. Not in the historical records we have, and not by anyone actually taking a rational look at it.

So maybe Jesus actually believed what he said, but he was deluded himself, in short, a lunatic, a mad man. Maybe so. What do we know of people in this state? Ever met anybody you suspected of being even slightly deluded? What words would you use to describe them? Self-absorbed? Self-obsessed? Critical? Condemning? Inflexible? Predictable? Friendless?

Compare that with Jesus. He showed incredible love and concern for people. Often he put them above his own needs and desires., spending long times with them, and coming to their aid. We hear of him spending time on his own when others would be busy with other things: mostly late at night or early in the morning when they would be sleeping. Jesus had friends. He had lots of followers. People wanted to be with him. They wanted to talk to him, and listen to what he had to say. Yes, he was critical of people. Sometimes he had to let the big guns out. But by far his demeanor was kind. I don't think he was soft - certainly he stood up for what he believed in, even to the point of death - but he was only harsh when absolutely necessary. Mostly, he just loved being with people.

So where does that leave Jesus? Just some guy, who said nice things?

How would telling people to be nice to one another get a man crucified? What government would execute Mister Rogers, or Captain Kangaroo?

Philip Yancey

No, there has to be something more to this guy. He was either deluded or a liar that we can't trust, or what he claimed was somehow true.

My Favourite Book

I'm not actually going to discuss my favourite book, although it happens to Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughart. (My brother gave me it for a birthday back in high school. I don't think he realises just how good a choice it was.)

No, this blog entry is more about the annual vote and tally that the Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC: one of the 5 TV channels we have here) does. They put on good show really, counting down the top 10, and building the suspense to the top 3. Here is the site with more info. (For the top 100, go to the top 10, and then select the Top 100 link. Why do they make these things so hard!?) For the lazy among you:

1. The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien
   
2. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin
   
3. The Bible
   
4. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
   
5. Cloundstreet - Tim Winton
   
6. Harry Potter and The Order Of The Phoenix (book 5) - J.K. Rowling
   
7. Nineteen Eighty-Four - George Orwell
   
8. The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy - Douglass Adams
   
9. Tied:
• Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
• The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
  
10. A Fortunate Life - A.B. Facey

I've read a few of these (#'s 1, 3 & 8), don't think I'll ever read a few (#'s 5, 6, & 9b), and the rest I'd like to read. As usual, its a matter of time!

TC&GB, pk

Broken

This is a meditative poem written by a friend of mine. She read it during communion last Sunday.

Broken

Have you ever actually looked at the bread as it’s being broken?

Hear the crack of the crust
as what once was whole
becomes fractured
then split open

Can you see the way the fibres cling together,
until they are torn apart,
… kind of like sinews

And now there are pieces,
Jagged-edged remnants
that barely resemble the original form

Have you ever looked at the wine as it’s being poured?

Look at the rich, red colour,
vibrant and full of life,
the way it flows freely,
abundantly even

Have you ever noticed how just one drop
can mark something (or someone) for life?


Jodie McCarthy 2004

Tolstoy on the walk

If I know the way home and am walking along it drunkenly, is it any less the right way because I am staggering from side to side?

Actually, I don't know what he was talking about here, or from where it is quoted. As I'm sure he is for many reading this, Tolstoy is an author I'd like to read, but haven't yet. This might help though.

The quote is taken from the back cover of the liner notes of Brooke Fraser's CD, "What To Do With Daylight".

TC & GB, pk

Why is it so hard to get started?

(Wow! two posts in one day... I wonder if anybody actually reads this stuff, though!)

After reading Troy's and Heather's blogs, and a few others that link from them to other places, (such as Faith In Fiction) I've become really interested in writing again. I say again, as I haven't written anything substantial for the last year or so.

Over the years there have been numerous ideas. Stories that came and go. I think they were ok ideas - at least, I could see they weren't too bad. General pulp fiction in a lot of ways, but hey, I'm no pro! Maybe something got started. Maybe the ideas just stayed in my head, residing in the Buena Vista Social Club of the mind. Waiting to be rediscovered, happy just to exist. Why is it so hard to get started?

Music, songs, short stories, devotions, prayers. Nothing seems good enough, evenly polished, "right". Never totally happy with letting go, half finished creations stand in my frail shadow, glaring at my inner eyes. Their yearning for the light can be strong. Desire for the acceptance of my creativity and expression is overpowering. My pride and fear of failure is crushing. The tension is unbareable. I am the tightrope upon which judgement walks: is he just technically skilled at what he does, or is it art? Learned tricks of balance, or beautiful movement suspended high in the air? Why is it so hard to get started?

I read recently that the people who think of themselves as creative, are actully the most creative. This I can definately work on. Think of myself as creative? Having something to offer? Something good? That's a challenge.

TC & GB, pk

Romans 8:28

Bible Gateway: ROM 8:28

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (NIV)

This is one of the (far too few) verses I have memorised. (Well, ok, almost memorised. It's certianly one I know, but I'm never too sure of the reference.)

One of the things that I find really important about this verse is NOT

• that God works everything for good; or
• that God works in all things.

No, the point for me is those 4 little words: "those who love him."

God is a jealous God. He want's our love, and will continuously work to get it. This is not only an interpretation of difficult times for those that love God, but also for difficult times for those that don't know God, or have chosen not to love him. The rain falls on the godly and wicked alike. We who love God know all is, and will be, turned for our good, as God is at work. Those that don't know Him, cannot be so assured. Praise God He is at work!

A question: does God take rest, even now? He instructs us to do so in the Sabbath (originally Saturday, now Sunday); God is a god who leads by example. Does He take rest? Is His work continuous work?

I don't have any highly thought out answer here. I do know that God's work, and the repercussions of God's work, affect my life more than I know or appreciate. God is still working in me (there's a lot of work to do, let me tell you!). God also lets me rest from His work in me, because He loves me. He doesn't want to tire me out, get me frustrated (or get Himself frustrated?!). His love is everlasting, even when I don't respond, and especially when I love him and when we work things together for His good, which is my good.

TC&GB,

pk

World Friendship

I'm constantly amazed at how far the world reaches, and how close computers and the Internet make it seem. I discovered the other day that Heather and Troy also blog. They are friends of ours in Madrid (Spain), on a mission establishing an English speaking church - MountainView.

We met them whilst living in the Netherlands, and attending Crossroads. We still pine for those days in many respects. It's been well over a year now that we've been back in Australia, and it's still all I can do to hold myself together if I think of Europe and our friends there for too long. Zoe, Bram, Jante, Gerard, Troy & Heather, the Crossroads gang, our adopted parents Jos & Jaap. These all are people that we feel honoured to have been friends with; that we will stay in contact with until our live's ends; that hope to meet up with again, the sooner the better. Thanks for letting us be a part of your lives. We've been truly blessed.

God called us back to Australia; that we know for sure. Why, though? I don't get it. I think perhaps we're in training for something bigger. We face obstacles and difficult situations, but I think we're learning to rely on Him more and more. At least more than we would have living longer in NL

For those who have been trained by it, no discipline is pleasant at the time, but painful.

Bobby McFerrin on Hebrews 12:11.

Here is to life-long, world friendship. God be praised for the age in which we live.

Lyrics: Change Me From Within

I came across these old lyrics of mine, from a long while back. I can still remember the tune too. Time to do something with it.

Change me from within
Come beneath my skin
O Father,
Lead me to your living water

I want to leave behind
My old and sinful mind (life?)
Holy Spirit,
Come and move, and Change me from within

Musicianship vs Performance

(Long time no blog... I've been having trouble blogging from work. Just have to be a little more paitent, I guess!)

Read this this morning about lip syncing and performance and Saturday Night Live. Got me thinking about the nature of musicianship vs performance. I think we often get the two mixed up. We expect every great performer to be a great musician, and vice-versa. Really, boys and girls, its not the case.

I don't believe that lip-syncing is in any way acceptable. If you're going to perform, then perform. Don't tell people you are, and then wimp out because you don't feel like, or are not up to it or whatever. However I also know that there are many great musicians out there that aren't great performers, and don't want to be. They enjoy making great music, and that's all they want to do. Bernie Taupin comes to mind. Billy Joel is one of those that I respect as a great musician, but I think sometimes he tries too hard when performing. He always seems much better - more relaxed - when he's just playing and singing, rather than putting on a big rock star act.

As a musician myself, I'd rather make great music, and leave the performance to those that can pull it off. But still - perform. I don't ever want to mime to a backing track if I am there to play. I have mimed to a track once - for a video. To me that was acceptable because at the point the music was not the central focus. If it was in front of a crowd, just for a performance when they were expecting live music, then I'd be hypocritical. Something I don't ever want to be.

Another Blog: Trying to be Human

My brother is (was) over in New Zealand for the funeral etc. of Granna. He just sent me an email telling me about his personal blog. My brother? blogs?? He's at: Trying to be Human.

I remember when we were young I was right into programming, and he was a bit careful about it - not too sure about how or what to do. I don't think he was as captivated by computers as I was. Not a bad thing - he just invested his time in other stuff.

Now I work with computers and he's a teacher; he does stuff I haven't been game to do for a long time - like blog.

Ain't life funny.

pk

End of a Long Weekend...

Don't we all love Long Weekends? The corporate "stop and slow down" for a few days; maybe go away for a couple of nights out of town; spend times with family, or friends; a little bit of extra time to do what you want, or at least, more than what you need to...

Oh, well. No rest for the wicked...

Friday night I disassembled my wife's marimba. If you don't know what a marimba is, its like a very large xylophone - wooden keys, metal resonators, played with mallets. In the eight bags it goes into its fairly heavy. She was out at a rehearsal, so it took me about an hour to do it on my own. I think the fastest we've done it together is about 15 minutes.

Saturday she was at a rehearsal & gigs all day, so I had to take care of our son. He's just turned 2, and true to his age is into everything. Sometimes it so hard to keep track of him; I feel like I need not only eyes in the back of my head, but a complete circle around it. Man, he's fast! We went down into Freo on the bus, which he absolutley loved. Apart from a tiring day, it was kinda fun. Just hard work being constantly on the look-out.

Sunday I was playing at church in the morning, then my wife had a radio gig over lunch, and finally I was playing in the evening. The gig was cool. Only, it was nothing like what they said in the published programme (don't look for her name - it isn't there!). After the gig of course we had to break down the marimba again, and load everything up into people's cars. After playing at church in the evening I was pretty exhausted, but she wanted to go out. So I dragged myself out to a local cafe, and a bit of drive, and felt ok. It was nice to be out with just the two of us.

Monday - the long weekend day. Relax? Not really! We're looking for various bits of furniture and managed to find something in the Quokka - a bookcase for her music and books. Not a bad bargin, either. Then off to some friends for lunch. Running after our son is always on the agenda, and I feel I can never relax, except if he's asleep.

Might go and do some of that now, actually...

' Night all

pk

Granna

My Granna's died, aged 94.

Granna's Death Notice:

Carter, Alice Fanny (nee Bush). Peacefully on September 24, 2004, at Nelson Region Hospice. Loved wife of the late Clem. Dearly loved mother and motherinlaw of Hilary and Peter Kan (Perth), David and Olina (Auckland), Jan and the late Clem. Loved grandmother of Julie and Christine, Christopher and Philip, Jude and Ben and all her greatgrandchildren. Aged 94. A Cremation Funeral Service for Alice will be held at Christ Church Cathedral, Trafalgar Square, Nelson, on Friday afternoon, October 1, 2004 at 2.00pm. Marsden House Funeral Directors FDANZ

My mum flies out this afternoon to be with her family. My dad and brother go on Wednesday. I'm not going - maybe I'll regret it later. I haven't seen her since I was about 15 or so, and since then we've only had sporadic email and phone contact. She was actually quite good with a computer, considering she grew up in a world without telephones, airplanes, or televisions, or computers. I didn't think I'd be that sad, but it is, after all, family. Today is hard day.

pk

ChurchBass: Practicing Worship

Hey,

I belong an email list called ChurchBass of great guys and gals who (not surprisingly), play bass in Church. It's one of the few online communities I've been part of long-term. You can find out more at www.churchbass.org.

Here's one (part) of one of my recent posts:


How much do we practice worshipping during the week, away from the church or rehearsal or people watching us, and simply worship? I mean just God and me, one on one?

I've probably written of this before. I think that as musicians in church it is all too easy to get caught up in the "on stage" (or platform or whatever) thing. It's all too easy to enjoy the performance, and forget about why we are there, and what our job is: to lead the rest of the people in worship of our God. (us WITH them, not us for them, or to them, or set apart from them - but that's another post!)

One of the significant ways I have found to counteract that temptation, nay, sin (as it focuses on me, and not the Almighty), is to practice worshipping on my own. We (presumably) practice our instruments and the songs to avoid wrong notes and musical train wrecks, but do we engage in a practice of worship to avoid leading the people astray? We practice technicalities in order to improve on our musicianship; do we practice different ways of worshipping to improve our relationship with God, and our appreciation of who He is and what He has done?

Musical practice is vital, and I think we would be amiss to ignore developing the gifts God has given us. I also think that we can easily stay worship infants if we don't consciously practice worshipping. Both are important, but in different ways.

I haven't thought this through entirely yet, but my inkling is that this is different to Quiet Time, where we wait and listen on God, or learn more about Him. Personal Worship Time (as opposed to Personal Practice Time ;-) is about actually worshipping God. Sitting down (or whatever) and saying to God, "Now I'm going to worship you, because you deserve it. I'm not purposefully looking for anything from you, Lord. I just want to explore ways of worshipping you." Perhaps its just a different way of having a QT.

Sometimes, when I know what I'll be playing on the coming Sunday, I'll try to "live with the songs" throughout the week: worship with them day in, day out. The idea is that when Sunday comes around it's just an extension of my personal worship times, taking the pressure off playing, allowing me to just worship. (Confession: that used to happen a fair amount, now I'm pretty lazy... ;-(

Ok, rave off. I hope you're encouraged, rather than laden with another "do this" chore.

TC&GB,

pk

Welcome...

G'Day, Howdy, Hello...

Well, I guess this is how you start a blog - you just write something.

Actually, I've been thinking of starting this for sometime, but never really gotten around to it. Now I've started, is there any going back? ;-)

See you for a first real post sometime soon.

pk