Poppies In The Wasteland

Like a poppy growing in the middle of some waste ground, I love to find signs of life in unexpected places. The Joshua tree in the desert or the tender care of one vulnerable person towards another.

 I’m writing these words whilst in Ukraine, a place I have visited on many occasions. I always go with the intentions of giving and serving, but always return feeling like I am the one who has been enriched by the community I have gone to serve.
 Something happens when we deliberately choose to live on the margins, when life among the marginalised becomes the norm rather than the exception or the token gesture.

 On one of my first visits to Ukraine many years ago, I sat with a fellow biker. His face was deeply scarred with a skin condition that was afflicted on him by the fallout of the Chernobyl disaster. We rode to the ruins of what once his orphanage home and he told me his story. All I did was listen, for maybe two hours. At the end of our time together he embraced me and thanked me for listening. This was the first time he had told his story to a foreigner. As far as he was concerned, he and his story, the plight of his community had been completely forgotten by his own government and the rest of the world.

 To feel forgotten, to be left bereft of any sense that your voice is heard or even matters if it is heard, is a desperately lonely place to be.
 Over the years, I have found great inspiration from the on the road stories of Jesus of Nazareth.

 On one such occasion, he and his mates travelled across a lake to a graveyard, adjacent to a pig farm, that probably supplied the Roman garrison its food. The purpose of their journey was to meet a man that was caught in a trap of bizarre behaviour that manifested itself in many ways including self-harm, living naked among the graves and displays of almost supernatural strength that rendered him so unpredictable the community tried to chain him up.

 As Jesus was a Jew, this man presented every reason under the sun why he shouldn’t be on Jesus’ radar for a conversation. An encounter with a naked, madman, living among the dead, next to a pig farm, would have ruffled more than a few feathers in the temple courtyard and effectively rendered Jesus untouchable.
 There are many levels to this story found in the Gospels, but the thought I want to leave for reflection is this.

 At the end of the encounter, the man was clothed and in his right mind. At the beginning of the encounter, we find Jesus, deliberately choosing to go out of his way, break some cultural taboos, put himself in a vulnerable position to demonstrate to this guy, he and his suffering was not forgotten.

 If our concern for those who are marginalised, for whatever reason, moves us to act, let us be prepared to cross borders, be vulnerable ourselves and be surprised at the poppies we find growing in the wastelands.

 Cheers and God bless.
 Sean Stillman

Brennan Manning - Welcome Home

If you have ever wondered why Zac's Place is subtitled "A Church For Ragamuffins", then you need look no further than the writings of Brennan Manning, who's long road to freedom came to completion on 12 April when he passed away aged 78. 

His book The Ragamuffin Gospel goes down in my life as one of the most influential reads of my life. It was released back in 1990 and was marketed as, "good news for the bedraggled, beat up and burnt out". It's a label I and many others have taken to heart over the years and by that same grace of God that Brennan bathed in, it's a label that resonates so much with what Zac's Place has matured into. He continued to be a fierce advocate for the marginalised, poor and church-abused, all the while battling his own demons. I longed for an opportunity for him to sit alongside us one day at Zac's Place, but the opportunity never came - but alas, the Spirit with which he lived and struggled, is alive and well, not just in our humble bunch of ragamuffins, but among the many who benefitted from his writing and gentle ability to communicate the profoundness of God's love wherever he took opportunity to speak.

My thoughts and prayers are with his loved ones. My hope is that the legacy of his testimony will continue to inspire many to live in the revelation of "Abba's" love. Sometimes the profoundest of truths comes by way of the most gentle whisper, I'm so glad I was listening....

“My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it.”
― Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

http://brennanmanning.com           Books by Brennan Manning

“Because salvation is by grace through faith, I believe that among the countless number of people standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands (see Revelation 7:9), I shall see the prostitute from the Kit-Kat Ranch in Carson City, Nevada, who tearfully told me that she could find no other employment to support her two-year-old son. I shall see the woman who had an abortion and is haunted by guilt and remorse but did the best she could faced with grueling alternatives; the businessman besieged with debt who sold his integrity in a series of desperate transactions; the insecure clergyman addicted to being liked, who never challenged his people from the pulpit and longed for unconditional love; the sexually abused teen molested by his father and now selling his body on the street, who, as he falls asleep each night after his last 'trick', whispers the name of the unknown God he learned about in Sunday school.

'But how?' we ask.

Then the voice says, 'They have washed their robes and have made them white in the blood of the Lamb.'

There they are. There *we* are - the multitude who so wanted to be faithful, who at times got defeated, soiled by life, and bested by trials, wearing the bloodied garments of life's tribulations, but through it all clung to faith.

My friends, if this is not good news to you, you have never understood the gospel of grace.”

― Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out

Philip Yancey on Brennan Manning (archive)

Meanwhile in Melbourne

After a rather cool sub zero 150 mile ride to Berkshire, where I left the bike in the very capable hands of Grub for some routine work whilst I'm away, I've headed a long way south from Heathrow. Some dates to follow in NZ next week, but in the meantime I shall be getting rid of jet lag and preparing in Melbourne. Catching up with great friends here and speaking at St. Martin's in Collingwood on Sunday  - on a day when many remember the tragic fires that burned four years ago taking the lives of dear ones. Every stop along the way is punctuated by people and their stories - sometimes it's óur story' as many of the folks I spend time with I've know for a few decades now - whether it be lunch with my mechanic mate back home, my hosts here in Melbourne, dear friends at St Martin's I shall try to encourage, Buckshot out in NZ who's organised my itinerary there and the New South Wales crew I'll see for 24 hours enroute home. As I reflect on 25 years of ministry this year, the 'story' involves so many people and places. So many complex interwoven threads of friendships, support and challenges. As we remember the Transfiguration of Christ this week, I am reminded of the ongoing transformational power of the living God - occasionally it's a miraculous mountain top experience, more often it's back down the hill, in the valley, where Jesus took his mates directly afterwards amid the chaos and questions.

Our Neighbourhood, Our Issues & Our Attitudes

Ours is a city, like many others, with many complex social issues. Issues of addiction, prostitution, binge drinking, street violence, dysfunctional abusive home environments, unemployment and homelessness are all evident without having to look very hard.

We can either choose to ignore the issues, eradicate the issues with draconian laws or vigilante behaviour; or work together taking responsibility not just to make things appear better, but also to make a meaningful difference.

These issues do not become problems over night, neither will they be solved overnight. Our city is served by several agencies supporting those with issues of addiction - all of which have very dedicated staff working flat out amid increasing demand. We also have the reality of a local social services system that has been on special measures in the recent past, where again dedicated social workers are pushed to the limits with high case loads. Cutbacks in policing are possible and the increase in the number of licenced premises, 24 hour availability of alcohol in supermarkets and corner shops do little to encourage constructive changes in the way people behave and how we challenge and change antisocial behaviour.

The heroin addict sticking a needle in his arm, on the pavement as kids walk past on their way to school in the morning, has a moral responsibility of choosing where he or she injects. But the responsibility is to be shared across the whole community. The same principle can apply to those who choose to issue licences for alcohol to be served 24 hours a day in a corner shop or to withdraw funds from essential services that are tackling very ugly issues.

The reality is we need to wake up and smell the coffee folks. There is only so long a self centred, money grabbing, ego tripping culture can survive before the wheels fall off. The ugly nature of many of our social problems are what happens when society loves things and uses people, rather than loves people and uses things.

Maybe writer G.K. Chesterton was right when he wrote in response to The Times’ invitation to write an essay on “What’s Wrong With The World?”. Dear Sirs, I am.

Who invited you anyway?

In our regular Tuesday Night Tribal Gatherings, which continue to attract a regular crowd of believers and seekers alike, we have been looking at some of the Parables of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel. Diverse life experiences, journeys of faith and opinion all colour what are usually lively times of honest discussion and study. Everyone may speak and everyone is made to feel welcome. Looking at the parable of the Banquet in Luke 14 served as a timely reminder to ‘keep going’ - the over looked and ignored should not be left out of a place at the table, either in our homes, our churches or indeed in heaven itself. Hospitality shouldn’t be shown on the basis of what may be received in return - that is in essence what the Gospel of Grace is all about. We take our place at the ‘table of the Lord’ not by some divine right, following on the heals of another or because we got lucky. We take our place because as Frederich Beuchner writes, ‘the party wouldn’t have been complete without us’ - God himself invites us. Who are to judge who is more or less deserving a place at the same table feeding on a feast of such delicacies as mercy, grace, justice and love?

‘I was hungry and you fed me, 
   I was thirsty and you gave me a drink, 
   I was homeless and you gave me a room, 
   I was shivering and you gave me clothes, 
   I was sick and you stopped to visit, 
   I was in prison and you came to me..........
.............. 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.' (Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel Chapter 25)