The projects listed here date back to 2010 but nonetheless contain examples of actions which parishes and local groups can take to address climate change and the environment. Many of the contacts will be out of date but many of the ideas, along with resource material, remain relevant today. Most dioceses today also have climate and environment groups where other resources and working groups may be found.
Month: September 2023 (page 1 of 1)
Bishop Richard reflects on choices that affect our lives
Slipping the Moorings (Richard’s memoir). STM… . gives chapter references below
Historical notes: Takapuna Grammar (53/7). Otago University. St John’s College, Union Seminary NYC (68/9).
Vocation 1 My years as curate at Papakura (’64/68) where I married Jackie were bleak years vocationally. I had offered for priesthood in the 50s when churches were full, but in the 60s people were leaving in droves. We went to New York for post-grad study in the midst of anti-Vietnam protests, Black Power and US capitalist exploitation in South America. There our understanding of missionwas blown wide open. Key learnings: First, the Church’s mission is to engage with society, and second, the experience of grace with finding this enlarged vocation. STM 1
Industrial Mission (Teesside and Auckland 71-78), Vicar St Peter’s (78-90)
Vocation 2 At St Peter’s I corresponded often with Bishop Edward Norman on key issues in Church and Society. Many kept silent. We developed a respect for one another. Key learning: “speaking truth to power” in a way that gets through is a skill to develop, but there can be a cost. As leaders to develop the skill to listen and consult is like gold – better outcomes, more commitment. STM3
Anglican social justice officer (90/94), Asst Bishop Canberra/Goulburn (94-99), Jackie was guidance counsellor at Canberra (Anglican Boys) Grammar.
Ethics 1 (and mission) As social justice officer, and with the impact of Rogernomics and Ruthanasia, I ran 150 local seminars to link the theology of mission with analysis of local community needs, and then to plan local support services and advocacy for socio-economic change. Key learning: to integrate an outward-looking theology of mission with effective social engagement and strategies for change. STM 4.
Ethics 2 – Neoliberalism As social justice officer I had frequent dialogue with the late Roger Kerr of the (then) NZ Business Roundtable. Roger described the churches as perpetrators of corrosive myths, undermining the neoliberal ideology. Some aspects of neoliberalism are positive, eg avoiding excessive regulation and freedom to use one’s gifts in a creative manner. But as practised it fails to recognise that St Paul’s teaching about individual gifts is that they are for the common good. Key learning: any economic or corporate policy must be measured by whether it is for the common good. STM 6
Ethics 3 –Royal Commission on Genetic Modification In 2000/1 I was the deputy chair of the four-member RCGM. In assessing the option for GM in NZ one of the considerations was ethics. I suggested we should create a statement of values as a measure of any recommendations. There was some doubt as to whether this was possible in a society but together we identified seven core values which we felt would be shared by most New Zealanders and were relevant to the consideration of genetic modification:
- The uniqueness of Aotearoa New Zealand
- The uniqueness of our cultural heritage
- Sustainability
- Being part of a global family
- The well-being of all
- Freedom of choice
- Participation (in decision-making) STM 8
Vocation 3 – Ambition Being part of an institution inevitably raises the question of ambition. But ambition for what? For God? For mission? For the Church? For one’s company or for oneself? Ambition can be positive if one feels called to exercise a leadership that serves God and mission. The only position I ever aspired to was Dean of Auckland. I turned it down twice because on each occasion I had just started another job. It was pure grace that it came back to me after my year on the RCGM. I relished the opportunity to lead good worship, preach and also be a voice in the public square (2000/07). Key learning: in vocational choices whom or what do we choose? STM 10
Spirituality 1 A Quaker woman, Catherine Benland, composed the S-Factor – spirituality for all New Zealanders
- freedom of conscience and belief
- a sense of the sacredness of one’s own self and body, and that of others
- a sense of relationship among human beings
- belonging to a family, community or whanau
- tenderness and compassion to the weak and needy
- love for the earth, its rivers, mountains and bush, and its various life forms
- a feeling of awe in the face of the mystery of existence.
Spirituality 2/Vocation 4: Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest in New Mexico, in Falling Upward, writes about two journeys in life. In the first journey of life we tend to be busy creating our place in the world – education, work, family, success, affluence, influence. But as we mature we come to see that bigger things are at stake – compassion, justice, truth, loving God and others. In the second journey we build those things into our lives, so that the second journey is shaping the first. Discovering the second journey early in life gives us a strong vocational sense of life’s purpose.
Key learning: what shapes your vocational choices?
St Peter’s, Wellington: seminar on God, 20 August 2023. Bishop Richard Randerson
Personal statement: My faith begins with an experience of a God who is a mystery of love, whose nature is revealed in Jesus, and who calls us to follow Jesus.
Faith is not primarily an intellectual belief in creeds, dogmas, doctrines, liturgies, music, icons, a cross or rosary. These things are merely signposts whose usefulness is measured by the extent to which they lead us to an experience of God and to discipleship.
They are human constructs, many of them beautiful and life-giving, but they can also be barriers to faith. Images from 2000+ years ago do not resonate with many, especially if they feel they are to be interpreted literally. But any signpost that leads you to an experience of the living God is valid. Different images work for different people.
The ISMs
Theism 1: (as at top) an experience of God as spirit, mystery, some over-arching reality, transcendence, something bigger than ourselves that engages us. At a human level think of school spirit, Anzac spirit, team spirit.
Dag Hammarskjold, second Secretary-General of the United Nations:
I don’t know who or what put the question. I don’t know when it was put. I don’t even remember answering. But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone, or Something, and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender, had a goal.
Exodus 3:Think also of Moses’ encounter with God at the burning bush. God said my name is I AM (Yahweh), or simply Being. (cf Being vs a being).
John 6.68 Simon Peter answered:“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. And we have come to believe and know you are the Holy One of God.”
Theism 2: theologians today tend to use this as a particular image of God – God as a supernatural being with all the anthropomorphic traits of human beings. (cf Xenophanes, 4oo BCE in Greece: parallel of horses choosing a horse for their god). KEY QUESTION: is this the reality of God? Or a human image? If it works for you, that’s fine, but for many people it is a barrier. (eg religion vs science re Creation; god of the gaps); or the problem of evil – why does a good God allow evil to happen?, or not stop it; eg a tsunami or cancer.
Agnosticism: usually a doubt about theism 2 and theism 1
Atheism: generally a denial of theism 2 and theism 1. (Some atheists may have a sense of theism 1 (something bigger) but not revealed in Jesus).
Non-theism: a new kid on the block. After much thinking I now call myself a non-theist 2 who believes strongly in theism 1 (God as mystery revealed in Jesus) but not in theism 2 (God as a supernatural being). (Bishop John Robinson wrote of non-theism 2 in Honest to God, (1963).
Apophatic (not speaking) theologians believe that words cannot describe the mystery of who God but only of what God is not.
Humanism: A commitment to the well-being of humankind. Some atheists and agnostics see themselves in this group.
Pantheism: the view that God and creation are one
Pan entheisn: the view that God is in all things. (Bishop John Robinson was of this view.)
Scientism: the view that the only truths are those that are scientifically verifiable. Some atheists hold this view. Such a view rules out other truths such as ethics, or the arts.
Creationism: the fundamentalist view that the Genesis creation stories are literally true and should be taught in the science curriculum in schools.
Intercessory prayer: with few exceptions the bulk of our liturgies and prayers are based on theism 2 –the assumption that a heavenly father (or mother) is listening to us and will take some action to help us, or someone else we are praying for. I am very comfortable using prayers of this kind but in a non-theistic manner. The words are a powerful symbol of the God who is a mystery of love (theism 1).
For me prayer is allowing myself to be open to this mystery, to be filled by this divine spirit, feeling my life and concerns lifted, being thankful for all that is, feeling the joys and pains of others and being motivated to reach out to them. Prayer is healing in the sense of lifting us into the wholeness of God’s sustaining life and power.
Two prayers in NZPB that go some way to avoid theism 2 images are the Affirmation of Faith on p481 (…your purpose overarches everything we do…) and the version of the Lord’s Prayer on p181 (… Eternal spirit…source of all that is and that shall be –Jim Cotter).
When dealing with images there is no right or wrong. Finding the image that leads you to God is the key. Feel free to discuss this with Richard, the clergy or friends.
You may access Richard’s website and subscribe free for a whole range of resources on faith, justice, ethics and spirituality.
www.awordforallseasons.co.nz On the resources page you will find his memoir Slipping the Moorings in which Chapter 11 addresses issues raised in this paper.
A sermon for All Saints’ Day.
As we look around us today, whom would we name as contemporary saints? Would it be the Black ferns with their stunning success in international rugby? Or might it be Saint Jacinda or Saint Christopher? And many would name Great Thunberg with her courageous global leadership on climate change.
But for the rest of us, whom would we regard as saints today? Maybe a group of women I saw recently, patiently caring for handicapped young adults on a day out?
Or is it the army of overseas aid workers risking their lives to bring food, medicine and shelter to the hungry, sick and dying? Or the hungry, sick and dying themselves, hundreds of thousands of them in seemingly hopeless situations, but continuing to give everything for their children and neighbours?
Or are the saints the ‘Occupy Wall St’ protesters around the world – saying ‘enough is enough’ in the face of unparalleled greed and inequality? All these are people who are not just performing a duty, but are captured by a spirit that drives them to reach out with compassion and for justice for the needy.
It is that spirit which flows through the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12), the eight ‘blesseds’ that Jesus outlined in his Sermon on the Mount. I have visited the Mount. Today there is a modern, open church, on a slope looking down over the Sea of Galilee. It has eight sides – one for each of the Beatitudes.
Commentators see a parallel with Moses and Mount Sinai, but whereas the 10 Commandments are Law, the eight Beatitudes are Grace. The 10 commandments are moral instructions: ‘Love God, respect your parents, do not steal, do not murder’ etc. But the beatitudes show the difference between Law and Love. Jesus ushers in a new age where God’s freely-given love over-rides the rule of Law.
This spirit is evident in each of the eight Beatitudes. The poor in spirit are those who know the core of their life lies not in power and possessions but in their walk with God. As the modern interpretation you have today puts it: ‘Blessed are those who are convinced of their basic dependency on God, whose lives are emptied of all that does not matter, those for whom the riches of this world just aren’t that important’.
Those who mourn lament not only for lost loved ones, but for the loss of God and God’s justice from the heart of society. The humble are not those who choose to be a doormat or stand behind the door, but those who have no need to seek status or preferment because the only status they need is that of being a disciple. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness focus not just on personal morality but on a wide-ranging social righteousness that delivers justice for all.
The merciful are those for whom mercy is a mindset that issues in compassionate and costly action for others, while the pure in heart are those who are single-minded in their love for God, that love untrammeled by worldly distractions.
The peacemakers set out to heal wounds, build bridges, restore broken relationships, and to join movements that transcend racial and national divisions, and the gaps between rich and poor. They bring about shalom – the peaceable kingdom of God where all live in harmony with one another and with the earth itself.
And finally the persecuted are those who in their love for others, or in striving for justice, have made sacrifices, known rejection or carry the scars of battle with all that is broken or evil.
For all of these, the promise is a whole new state of being, a way of life where people see God, walk with God, feel God’s love and are empowered and sustained by God’s presence and spirit. It is a present taste of God’s final purpose for all creation. To such a life each one of us is called. It is a life and a promise lived and experienced by ordinary people like you and me.
As an example, let me conclude with the story of Emma Woods, that young mother in Christchurch whose 4-year old son Nayan was tragically killed some years back by a teenage driver whose car spun out of control. Which of us was unmoved by her words: “We had had a perfect day at Playcentre, played lots of games together, and had a good time at the mall. I have no regrets about that day – we had fun together”.
And of the young driver of the car: “We are pretty clear we don’t want this to be the defining moment of his life. He is young, only 17. He has got his whole life ahead of him and we hope he will use it to do good things, to be good with people, and maybe eventually to be a good father”.
I do not know what faith she follows, but Emma’s words are an astonishing statement of wisdom and generosity in the midst of unimaginable grief. She has drawn on the deepest resources of the spirit, while acknowledging the extent of her loss and the pain she will feel through long years ahead. It is of this that sainthood is made: the commitment to walk with our God whose love sustains us and brings forth extraordinary love in ordinary and extraordinary situations.
(Minor overlap with MF01)
All of us here tonight carry in our hearts the soul and spirit of someone close to us, and probably of several people close to us whom we have lost over the years. I remember each year my brother Michael who died of an illness aged 33: that was 36 years ago, and yet there is still a gap in our family circle. We grieve not only for the one who has died, but also for that part of our own life that has died as well.
Yet while grief is a reality we all know, it nonetheless points us to those things in life that are of supreme importance, things that give us comfort in the present, and hope and strength for the future. Let me mention four of them :
First, the traditional formal eulogy today if often eclipsed today by personal and anecdotal words from children and grand-children, usually with tears and laughter and in informal style. And the thing that stands out in the midst of them all is the central importance of family ties, and family love, and the times that were spent not in public office but at the beach together, or over a meal or at a birthday party – the things that are common to us all, often taken for granted, things that don’t cost money but are a priceless part of being human.
Second, a death often evokes within us a sense of being part of something bigger than ourselves. One of the old hymns of the Church has the line “Time like an ever-rolling stream bears all its sons away” (and daughters too). In one sense that sounds very pessimistic but I find a stronger meaning to it. Around us are plaques and memorials of our ancestors which speak of timelessness, of eternity, of a great over-arching drama in which each of us plays a part. Each of us receives life and has gifts and opportunities specific to our day and age. Each of us has a vocation to play our part in the service of others. Each of us gives life to others and in turn we give our own life up having played our part. Our life although mortal, has a purpose. We have a place in God’s abiding purpose of love.
Third, mortality speaks to us of the support we find in loss that comes from the love of family and friends. Human love is the expression of a divine love that never leaves us comfortless. In the night-time of grief, when loneliness and loss seem too hard to bear, we reach out to one another, and find comfort from each other, just as God reaches out to us and surrounds us with a love that will not let us go.
And finally, mortality speaks to us of the presence of God, one in whom we can trust as we look to a future that seems empty and uncertain. Faith does not provide answers to all our questions and anxieties about the future. Rather our faith lies in knowing that we travel with God, so that whatever the future will bring it will be all right. Faith is knowing that God’s spirit lifts us and sustains us, however empty life at times may feel.
On a plane the other day my fellow passenger told me of his experience at two funerals, one for his office secretary, much younger than he, the other for his father. He said he came away from each funeral with an incredible sense of lightness, which he defined as feeling that in spite of the loss everything would be all right. It wasn’t that he didn’t grieve; it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the loss; it wasn’t that he felt life would just be business as usual. He knew he would feel the pain of those deaths, yet at a much deeper level he had this feeling that in the overall scheme of things, all would be well. Those latter words were also used by the 14th century English mystic, Julian of Norwich, who affirmed that “all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well”. Not words of superficial comfort, but words of a deep conviction about the abiding presence of the love of God, a love that is with us in life and in death, mediated to us by family and friends, yet finding its source in a spring of compassion that encompasses all people in all times.
A sermon preached by Canon Paul Oestreicher
at St. Peter’s Church, Wellington on 6 August 2023
May what I say and what you hear reflect the heart and mind of Jesus who chooses us as his friends. Amen.
We are going this morning on a long, long journey. We will still be the people of St. Peter’s. But not only that. We will use our imagination to its limits. We will journey to heaven and back to this place — and then we will travel to hell and still come back to ourselves.
Every religion wants to celebrate. And so do we. This is a celebration of the feast of Transfiguration. I would not be surprised if some of you—maybe all of you—haven’t a clue what this is all about. Because the church has actually kept it at arm’s length. We celebrate births at Christmas, death and life beyond this at Easter. At Pentecost, we celebrate the presence of the Spirit of God in our midst. And then Transfiguration, where does it fit? It doesn’t. It could be anywhere in the New Testament, because it’s not part of the history. It is about spiritual poetry. The artists can make a lot of it. They have painted marvelous icons of Transfiguration. It requires huge imagination to get our minds and our hearts around it. So let us go with Jesus into the real celebration of nothing less than heaven.
Jesus chooses just three of his close friends, Peter, John, and James and says to them, “Come with me, climb this high mountain.” And they haven’t a clue what’s going to happen. So they climb the Mount of Transfiguration. And when Jesus gets there, he meets old friends. He meets Moses and Elijah the prophet of ancient Israel. Know this isn’t history. This is spiritual poetry. And Jesus himself is transformed. Surrounded by luminous light and light so bright that it shines like a 1000s Suns. And the three friends of Jesus are totally confused. They are in a cloud of unknowing. They fall down with fear at what’s happening. It’s totally extra ordinary. It’s another world to which Jesus has just chosen three to go with him to experience what we don’t really have words for. But it’s marvelous. It’s creative. It’s something that the artists can deal with. Can paint wonderful icons of it, and there are many of them. And we are left wondering. They have to come down from the mountain to reality. And they do. And as they come down a voice from Heavens says, “This is my beloved Son, my chosen. Listen to him.”
Listening to him is really the only reason why we should be in this place at St. Peter’s. What does he say to us? He says to us, “Don’t be afraid, little flock. It is my Father’s pleasure to give you the kingdom.” That’s what it’s all about. Journey into a heaven we cannot really imagine. But we are challenged to do just that. And to hear this Jesus guiding us on our paths.
But now I challenge you to leave St. Peter’s. I challenge you to go to your local cinema. And to watch a film simply, yes, simply called Oppenheimer. Oppenheimer, one of the great nuclear physicists of the 20th century, a great scientist. And he set out with a team of other scientists in the quest of creating a weapon that would win and end the Second World War. They were fighting against time. But they just made it. They went into the desert, the desert of New Mexico having worked and experimented and finished up with this weapon, which had never been used. They exploded it in the desert. It was a terrifying experience. And then they had done their work. Or at any rate part of it. The politicians then picked up their work and said, “You have done what we asked you. We will now act on it.” And they did. They sent one crew on an American bomber to take this fearsome weapon to the Japanese city of Hiroshima. And on this day, in the year 1945, on this sixth of August, in the middle of the morning, they dropped the first atomic bomb in history in a split second, a terrifying blast, brighter than 1000 suns like at the top of the mountain, and yet so terribly different. And in that split second, something like 100,000 children, women, and men, and the city in which they lived, was turned to ashes.
But science has no boundaries. So they went on experimenting and testing more. Testing them in the Australian desert, in the South Pacific, to create not just another atom bomb, but this time a hydrogen bomb, infinitely more terrible in his destructive power that is Hell. On. Earth. A human creation using the science of creation, to destroy creation. All on the feast on the feast of Transfiguration. Jesus seen in all his glory, and Jesus going with us to hell—we say it actually, when we recite the Creed, that’s the reality of our life.
In the twilight zone, between heaven and hell, this life is a bit of both a bit of heaven in each of us and a bit of hell in each of us and we live in between in a timezone before the ultimate coming of the kingdom. No we do not understand. But if we listen to the chosen of God, to this simple Jesus—this carpenter from Nazareth, this man among his fellow humans—and he can teach us about what he called the kingdom. That Kingdom is in fragments already present here now, but yet to be fulfilled. The journey to Heaven is offered on this feast of which the church sadly makes very little of. And on that very day, the hell that destroyed and may go on destroying, if we do not take peace, the peace of Christ seriously and say no to the inventions that we can make. But having made them, we can unmake them and we can prepare. Prepare for the kingdom and be part of it.
The Privilege is endless. The joy is endless. The grief is endless. No, it isn’t endless, but it will end in the triumph of love. For a moment, a final moment of silence. Imagine the brightness, the luminous glory of God and that very glory used to wipe out our fellow human beings.
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Amen.
And now I’m going to ask you to get up from your seats and join Jean and all the rest of us in blessing the icons that are symbols of what we are here for, to celebrate Eucharist, to celebrate Thanksgiving, to celebrate Jesus presiding at this Eucharist and at every Eucharist. But before he does that, Jesus, our servant, washes his disciples feet, washes our feet, as he challenges us to serve each other. So get up from your seats and come and crowd into the sanctuary here, right up to the end of the church, where the icons that are going to be blessed now have found a place for the future. Come and join us.