Walking peace

Over the last few days, hundreds of people from different walks of life, all ages, Maori and pakeha [white] participated in a Peace Walk to Parihaka, a small Maori village around the coast from New Plymouth.NZ.

The walk was led by Andrew Judd, our mayor and self-confessed 'recovering racist' who had received a vitriolic response when he attempted  to ensure adequate Maori representation on local government. Andrew, seen here with Archbishop Philip Richardson,   initiated the walk to Parihaka to encourage New Zealanders  to look at our own attitudes towards the indigenous people of Aotearoa  New Zealand.

The story of Parihaka is still not widely known in New Zealand let alone around the world. During the NZ Wars of the 19th Century, Parihaka was a haven for dispossessed Maori following the confiscation of their ancestral lands in parts of the North Island, and reached a population of around 10,000 in the 1870's. As pressures for more land for settlers increased, the New Plymouth township sought to expand along the coast towards Parihaka. In response, the charismatic leaders of the Parihaka community, Te Whiti and Tohu, influenced by scripture and their own cultural values, inspired a campaign of passive resistance. As the settlers made roads, put up fences or began to plant crops, men from Parihaka would plough up the roads and fields and remove the fences, over and over, in spite of daily arrests and unlawful detainment. This campaign came to be symbolised by the raukura, three white feathers representing the Biblical teaching of Luke 2.14:

He whaikororia ki te Atua i runga rawa 

Glory to God on high

He maungarongo ki runga i te mata o te whenua 

Peace on earth

He whakaaro pai ki te tangata 

Goodwill to all mankind

Finally in 1881, soldiers were sent to enforce Colonial supremacy and deal with the 'threat' which they thought Parihaka represented. The children of Parihaka met the soldiers, singing as they sat on the road leading to the village. It was a sign of the community's commitment to peace, but it made no difference, The village was overcome by brute force, its women violated, its men exiled to the cold caves of Dunedin, as far away as possible from all they held dear.

On Friday, as those of us who joined the final stages of the walk moved slowly across the very ground which heard the songs of children and the boots of soldiers over 130 years ago, sounds of karanga [calls], wailing and powerful haka rang out.

And then, as we made our way towards the marae, Mayor Andrew began to beat a bass drum.
The sound went straight to my soul - this is what the people of Parihaka would have heard as the soldiers approached in 1881. What dread it represented then - but not now.

In a stunning gesture of reconciliation, and in recognition of the Peace Walk's intention, the people of Parihaka, had, for the very first time, invited a pakeha to beat the drum. The mutual, intense longing for peace was tangible, The wairua [spirit] was among us.

A new chapter in the story of Parihaka has begun. May it remind us all that reconciliation is possible, new bridges can be built across cultures even when historic wrongs are grave, so long as  there are people of good will, hope and love.

Even a sparrow ...

Solitary sparrow at Ben Gurion airport - 2010

There were feathers on the stairs when I got back from shopping. No little corpse, no blood, just feathers. I went looking for the culprit and soon found Pickles, her tail thrashing,  paying very close attention to something underneath the coffee table in the lounge.

I eased myself down onto the floor and followed her line of sight ... there was the sparrow  ... startled, shocked, but alive. Now what? Scooped up protesting cat, closed lounge door, grabbed a  container and paper towel from the kitchen. It took a little while, but eventually I managed to gather the trembling sparrow in my hand, pop it into the container and secure the lid.

Off to the vet down the road. 'Cat versus sparrow' I said and she held out her hands.

As I drove home I remembered two other sparrows  - the first was the one in the picture above taken when I was waiting for my flight back to London after 3 amazing weeks in the Holy Land. This little opportunist enjoyed both  the crumbs left by busy travellers, and the chance to splash in the fountain pool. Watching her antics calmed my pre-flight nerves.

The second sparrow comes from scripture - Luke 12.6 : 'Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten in God's sight.' What a statement Jesus is making here. Nothing is beyond God's care and concern, not even the smallest creature going about its unremarkable day.

When we encounter forces that seem unstoppable, be they political, economic, spiritual or relational, reminding ourselves that God remembers the sparrow in all its common simplicity, can encourage us to trust that God remembers us - you and me - the little ones of the earth. We are always in God's mind - may God always be in ours.

a single hen

Yesterday we went to the National Poultry and Pigeon show - an amazing and noisy mix of hens, ducks, geese and pigeons  - everything that cooed, screeched, crowed or, surprisingly, maintained a serene silence. My husband's family had brought Orpingtons to New Zealand in the late 1800's and sure enough there were plenty of this impressive breed to be seen. But it was this little hen which stayed in my mind long after we came home. 

She won no prizes; she had none of the sense of presence which the large and elegant breeds displayed, no charismatic personality to win over the judges, no raucous call or vigorous scratching to attract attention. 
She was simply herself :  a silver laced wyandotte - and her beauty touched my soul. 

Take a moment to look at her feathers - every single one is vivid white edged with black ... she might have been overlooked by the judges, but for me she encapsulated the beauty that is all around us  - the wonder inherent in the fallen autumn leaf, in an individual feather, in the shimmer of a velvet rose petal or the unguarded smile of a child ... the small things of the world.  

And I thought of William Blake's poem Auguries of innocence  :

'To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour...'

It wasn't just her beauty which moved me. As I looked at her, and at the other birds, 

I was reminded that they  deserve to live freely in an environment which allows them 

to behave naturally and do what hens do. 

I thought about my egg-buying habits - free range generally  - but I don't always look too

closely at the packaging to see what this actually means.

And I should.

Blake's poem challengingly continues :

'A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons
Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions.'


When we mistreat the creatures who contribute to our wellbeing, we do them violence,
and we offend the Creator.  


One measure of a society's maturity is how it treats the least powerful - 
animals and birds as well as people.


We still have a long way to go.

Wangapeka 1

Any of you who have been on a silent retreat will know that the process of 're-entry' can be disconcerting: everything seems to be going too fast - cars, speech, life in general - hence my slowness in beginning to share something of the essence of the retreat time.

The Wangapeka Study and Retreat Centre, which was founded by Buddhists 40 years ago, is perched among the remnants of a South Island beech forest, above a river valley filled with mist and raindrops and,when I was there, thunder and occasional sunlight. It was a beautiful environment and very fitting as we were there to pay attention to the creation in all its moods and diversity.

Now I'm home I've been  processing some of the gifts of this important time of reflection, discovery and grace. Wondering just how I might begin to share some of the Wangapeka experience, I thought I'd share a 'fantail' story  to ease my way in.

Photo by Adrienne Thompson

As we Kiwis know, the fantail or 'piwakawaka' is an extremely active little bird which rarely settles in one place for long as it flits around looking for food on the wing. It is sociable and keeps close to people because we disturb the little insects it loves although it does seem as if the fantails enjoy our company!

I certainly enjoyed theirs as I walked the unfamiliar forest tracks among fallen pines and new native growth, with the subdued roar of the river in the background. They would 'peep - peep - peep' their way from bush to bush or dart from one side of the track to the other but, as far as I could tell, not one of them settled for more than a few seconds.

Towards the end of the retreat I was sitting outside in the sunshine, away from the cold wind, watching the fantails in the courtyard as they inspected every nook and cranny, roof crevice and flowering bed for edible delights.  After a while  I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my face for the first time in days.

And then the 'still, small voice' whispered, 'You're just like the fantail  - flitting around all over the place. You need to settle.'

If that had been the only thing I 'heard' at the retreat it would have been enough. I knew the truth of it, I knew it referred to trying too hard, doing too much , even drawing on a range of spiritual practices instead of settling on a simple engagement with scripture and silence which would nourish my soul in simplicity and bring peace.

Perhaps you too have a sense of 'flitting' from one place or activity to the next, finding it hard to settle long at anything, rest-less and striving for stillness and peace. Know that the God who made and loves you will be there waiting when you pause and sit and rest.

May fantails remind us all of the value of stopping for a moment to savour the beauty around us, and to notice the God-moments which help us to hear what we need to know for our own well-being..

Out on a limb

Our adventurous young cat, aptly named 'Pickles',

is centre stage in this photo, although her tabby and white stripes make her initially hard to see.

I took the picture from  a second storey window when she'd scampered up the kauri tree outside, spurred on by my husband. 

She'd never been up this tree before - she'd never been this high before  - and we both watched with some anxiety as she spent the next ten minutes carefully moving four paws and her useful tail 

around, over and through the narrowing branches. At one stage she even let out a plaintive, though restrained, meeaow and I could tell she was having second thoughts about her rash dash upwards.

Finally after realising that she could not jump onto the roof, and the birds watching her from a safe distance were not going to move any closer, she carefully reversed, and very slowly navigated the descent. 

No need to ring the fire brigade after all!

But her predicament made me think about the proverbial 'going out on a limb'. I could see how easily it happens - perhaps inspired by others we start off with great enthusiasm to achieve a goal, without stopping to consider what might lie ahead. We think we have what it takes, but suddenly find ourselves doubting our abilities or wondering whether we should proceed or retreat. 

Yet how often have people who are willing to 'go out on a limb' made lasting changes or achieved outcomes beyond their or others' expectations? People like explorers, inventors, artists and writers, people working for justice, and anyone who risks stepping out in faith, not knowing where that step will lead them. People like Jesus , who stepped out on a limb by challenging the prevailing religious and political authorities in the name of the God whom he revealed as Love. 

Next time you feel as if you're out on a limb, remember you're in good company.

FINAL ARRANGEMENTS

I went to a funeral a couple of months ago.
Not an uncommon occurrence.
But this was a little different - actually quite different.

The funeral took the form of readings, prayers and music because the young minister had been given clear instructions prior to the man's death that he wanted no tributes or eulogies. As a result, by the end of the hour long service, those present knew little more about him than we had before. There was no life overview, and no personal anecdotes to bring discovery, tears, laughter, and thanksgiving and make the deceased more real, even as he moved from our sight.

People will give this instruction for all sorts of reasons e.g.

• Speakers talk more about themselves than the one who's died or they go on too long
• 'I don't want to any fuss'
• 'I don't want people saying nice things about me or making me out to be something I'm not'

But someone once said to me, 'Funerals are for the living, not the departed,' and there is a truth in that. I don't know if you're like me, but I've often valued the diverse perspectives that a thoughtful biography and two or three  well-crafted tributes can provide. Sure they are only glimpses of different contexts in which the deceased was involved, but they paint a fuller picture of the person's  character and life, not just the part we may happen to have shared.

And when different generations are given the opportunity to remember a mum or granddad, their participation in a significant family ritual will be a blessing to them in spite of their grief, and a reminder to us of the impact for good a caring older relative can make.

So, maybe,when we come to make our 'final arrangements' we might allow those who attend a glimpse into our background and the things which have been significant be they people, places, work or play, our faith even our failures. It's a gift to those present if we can provide  a space for trusted family or friends to share their stories, their struggles and their love in the presence of a supportive community.

Then at the end of the service, our 'goodbyes' will be informed by a deeper understanding and appreciation of who the person was in this world, even as we commend them on their journey of

becoming in Christ.

Ripples ...

Ripples

                                                                                                                  Photo BBC 2012

I'll bet many of us have stood at a  river's edge and skimmed a smooth stone across the surface ... there's been a a plop or two or even more to show  the extent of our skill and then the stone has sunk beneath the surface. The ripples have broken up and disappeared, but we know they were real. For a time, however brief, they were full of beauty and energy.

Sometimes I think about ripples when I'm writing - or trying to write. I think about all the books, articles, sermons and so on, written about 'listening' or 'God' or 'prayer' or 'love' or 'spirituality' and I wonder what on earth my writing - the 'stones' of books, articles, sermons and so on - could add to the world. Theologians and writers, scholars and poets far more gifted than I am have explored these themes before me - some of them making such a huge impact, it's as if they've dropped a large rock    [ with the help of a bulldozer ] into the ocean and set off a tidal wave! While I might have aspired to such an influence once, I know now that my contributions are more like the small pebbles a child might drop into the water with joy, without needing to know where the ripples end up. It is enough to know I've found and shaped a particular 'stone', and set it in motion. Its ripples will reach those to whom they will make a gentle difference, without my having to make it happen.

Sometimes I have a picture of a large expanse of water covered in circles of ripples which embrace the globe. And I begin to imagine ... you may like to join me ...

Imagine those of us who try to live a life that is kind and just, sending out ripples of love and hope and forgiveness and grace  as we go through our day ...
imagine persisting even when faced with failure, persecution, disappointment or apathy,
imagine  the Spirit of God breathing encouragement and wisdom into each of us until our ripples merge with others, and then ,
as these ever -widening circles of compassion move beyond our comprehension,
imagine  the world covered  'with the glory of God, as the waters cover the sea'.

Let's see how many ripples of love and joy and peace we can send out today.