Kamo Lions Club

I think we should all be more like the Kamo Lions Club.

Of course! The Lions! Why didn't I think of this before!

I was just listening to National Radio, and the Kamo Lions Club held a Men's health night in Northland. But the really cool thing is that they're planning another one...


... in six year's time.

Now, it is slightly possible that I misheard this, and they meant six months time, but I hope not.

We suffer from short term expectations. This is probably the hardest thing about my involvement in YFC. It's not YFC's problem, it's mine. Y'see, in the shiny new YFC we're trying to build foundations, grow roots, allow our new-found direction to seep into our very beings. That takes time. I still feel partly defined by what I do. Especially when it comes to communicating with my supporters. I pay them the disservice of believing that if I'm not doing something obvious and concrete, that they will abandon me.

My tendency is to rush out and do something, now. I think that me & the other Dunedin members need to take the time to build our community around our values. Part of that is doing, but, to borrow from the parable of the sower, we need to ensure that we don't spring up too soon. I believe that the values of YFC are good soil, but we need to take the time to establish ourselves before we will bear an abundance of fruit. If we do it right now, it might be hard to tell in six months time, but I want the community we've joined for this year to be thriving in six years time.

godzilla: the prequel

This really has nothing to do with a film. It has everything to do with people I care about.

See, Dunedin is a student town. There are tens of thousands of people between the ages of 18-25. There's a massive post-student diaspora that leaves an unfortunate minority rattling around our demographically empty city like characters in a gammy Christian novel who are Left Behind.

So, what happens with post-student denizens of Dunedin Christendom? Some of us hang on to the coat-tails of student life like an aging hippy. Others jump around the local wannabe-mega-church like they're happy. Some give up and have babies & try to get old quickly. But many, and these people are dear to my heart, struggle through as one-person statistics in churches full of old people.

Not that it's all bad - those churches can be really supportive communities. But sometimes you just get weighed down with not fitting in.

My answer is not to create a 20-something church.
My Answer (tm), is godzilla.

An occasional get together to build relationships, draw closer to God, and learn from one another.
Each time we get together, someone different takes the lead, and allows the rest of us to enter into their experience of God.

Yes, yes, I know it's the same name as the blog, but I think that muddies the waters nicely. If it ever becomes an issue, perhaps I'll care.
I really don't want it to clash with The Lounge though, & I don't think it should - the whole point of godzilla is that people can be part of multiple communities of faith. The book title says it nicely - "I Have in My Arms Both Ways".

Stations...

First, I should probably explain that Easter is really important to me. For one, it's been a time of milestones in my faith. On a brainier level, our first priority in life is to love God. The events of Easter remind us that we've crap-failed dismally to do that (Jesus' blood is on all our hands in His death), and that God's grace totally overwhelms our incompetence, bloody-minded stupidness, and hate (the resurrection). Communion on Easter Sunday recalls all of that and affirms our marination/saturation in faith - even though we don't really understand (no matter how much we pretend when John Campbell comes to call). On top of that it draws us into some weird kind of community where we are reminded that we're also called to love our fellow humans.

So, for me, that moment of tasting the bitter bread & the sweet, sweet wine is the high point of my year. The culmination of who I am.

Of course, if I tried to say that to a bunch of teenagers, I'd just sound like a wanker. Perhaps I do anyway. So how can I communicate the importance of Christ's sacrifice & triumph - not just cosmically, but personally & communally? Stations of the Cross.

The idea is that by physically entering into the events of Holy Week on the way to sharing communion, we become part of the story. The significance washes over and through us. We can still reject it, but we can't ignore it.

On Sunday night, me & a group of friends took a trailer-load of stuff out to Tirohanga to put together a communion/stations of the cross/art installation/interactive worship experience for the kiddies. I was a little worried - first of all, it's all outside & dependent on the weather. Second we had to have the first station way down the end of the camp because of fire regulations - I thought the distance between stations would dilute the impact. Third of all, it all depended on the reaction & participation of the campers, and because I wasn't at camp, I didn't have a feel for that.

"So, what the hell did you do then?" you ask oh-so-rudely. It all started with a pleasant sing-song outside one of the cabins. Rev Ian Pittendreigh from Flagstaff Union conducted the most complete exposition of communion that I've ever heard (maybe I failed to communicate that I wanted it short - I screwed that one up myself :-P ) & managed to garner the Holy Spirit's blessing on the whole occasion. Then the kids embarked on the journey.

I haven't got space to go through it all, but try downloading it here.

My inspirations included http://www.youthspecialties.com/free/programming/stations/ and the altar worship resource developed by the YFCNZ creative team.

Oliver James

This is my son, with whom I'm well pleased.
We're thinking about July 30th for a baptism. 5th Sunday @ Highgate means we're all together. I like.

the first post...

Well, here I am joining the blogosphere. I've avoided this for a while because I've always thought blogging is a bit of a wank. Blogging's all about the assumption that I've got something worthwhile to say that The World Needs To Know. The truth is, most of us really don't. Me included.

So what finally made me enter the domain of self-glorification & vanity (I hear the breath-holding billions ask)? Well, I wanted a way to keep track of the stuff I do. Some of it's pretty cool. And I need to record it for posterity & the greater good. It's for the people. And the future of the planet. Possibly.