Why Africans make great Aussies (and some great sculptures)

An Obadiah Slope column

By the sea: The clifftop path has become too dangerous to traverse entirely, and there’s been a money problem butObadiah and his more significant other found this year’s Sculpture by the Sea at Bondi a treat.

There’s this sculpture, “The Power of Knowledge by Chinese artist LuLu, that Obadiah thinks would grace any Bible College.

On the see-saw, a book is weightier than the big stone. A Christian could read the book labelled the Book of Knowledge as the Bible, and the big stone as the weight of sin, or human pride. The Bible is THE book of knowledge, isn’t it?
“Envy” by Kerry Cannon obviously features a church. Obadiah reads it as forces wanting to enter the church. Or maybe you could read it as a passerby envying what is happening in the church.

Japanese-Australian Ayako Saito has contributed “A prayer in me” which has praying hands – it works for Obadiah as a reminder to pray. She has a large sculpture “Heaven’s Door”, at St Paul’s College at the University of Sydney, which was commissioned by the Chief Justice of NSW, Andrew Bell
And just to remind everyone that these sculptures are really by the sea, here is Andrew Cullen’s ( QLD), ‘Rustle’, a wooden dragon that is in just the right place.

 

###

Afri-cans: For those concerned with the country of origin of newcomers to Australia, consider this: what are the “Aussie values” you want people to adopt? Hardworking? Family values? Cheerful volunteering? Grtit? And Followers of Jesus? Well, all of these are amply demonstrated in the life of Sudanese refugee-turned-Aussie, Aduk Dau.

With author Belinda Peoples, Dau’s story is now a book, “For Hope, Love and Life Itself.” It’s a story of tragedy upon tragedy borne from civil war, of mother love and a miracle when the civil-war-separated family come together, and of motherly devotion to take full advantage of what Australia can offer for her kids.

And along the way, how churches have been there to help.

Which is where Mrs Obadiah gets a mention. Aduk Dau, already attending our church, came to Bronwen’s playgroup one week after a disastrous first driving session. “I told Bronwen and Wendy that I was never getting behind the wheel again. 

“‘Oh Aduk, its not so bad ,’ Bronwen said. ‘You’ve had a rough start, but you can do it! We’ll teach you how to drive.’ “

‘You will?’

“‘Yes, and there will be no arguments about it.’

“I looked at Bronwen. It seemed I’d met my match in determination.

“‘Alright … thank you’

“Within the hour, Bronwen had the whole thing organised. She and two other ladies took turns teaching me for hour-long sessions on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday each week during school hours. “Dau [the youngest]” 

For the first lesson, Bronwen took Aduk to Rookwood Cemetery. The hour lesson stretched to an hour and a half, and as Bronwen remembers, Aduk “got it.” 

It was a small thing, but step by step, Aduk and her husband, Deng, got established in Australia, and her kids have turned into assets for this country.

She remembers those left behind in the most practical way. Her project, Lost Children of Jonglei, provides scholarships to educate children left in the refugee camps in Kenya, in conjunction with Anglican Aid.

Note to sydneysiders: These days, you are not allowed to learn to drive in Rookwood.

##

Progressives shrinking: A frank analysis on the English Via Media site aims to provoke progressives to action. Simon Cross, a minister in the United Reformed Church, a writer, and the chair of the Progressive Christianity Network writes: “Churches that champion progressive theology are shrinking, not because their message lacks depth, but because their communal purpose is unclear. This has various knock-on effects: visible Christianity becomes limited to its more conservative expressions, new leaders are not nurtured, people are cut adrift from supportive communities.

“For centuries now, we’ve critiqued doctrine, questioned hierarchy, and sought to dismantle harmful traditions. But we’ve not always articulated what church is for. Why gather? Why commit? Why return week after week to a community that is imperfect, slow-moving, and sometimes exhausting?”

Cross goes on to give an answer: “At its best, church becomes a community of resistance. A place where we can come together, partly for comfort perhaps, but also to find a way to fight against injustice, against despair, against isolation. The earliest Christians gathered for this reason – they shared resources, they dismantled hierarchies, they cared for each other.”

Yes, the early Christians did indeed care for each other and showed compassion as they gathered. But the reason they gathered was also as disciples of Jesus. What’s striking is that Jesus is not mentioned in the description of what the church is for. Obadiah had to read the piece several times to make sure. 

Obadiah believes that pursuing social justice is essential, but it is an outcome of what the church is for. And Christians should join with others to act to make the world better. Obadiah’s favourite saying is “If church was meant just to be a social justice movement God would not have invented the Labor party.” Please feel free to insert your favourite justice party or organisation in there.

###

The Twin: Obadiah gives a shoutout to his twin, Peter, pictured in a Deacon’s dalmatic, at the farewell service for Archbishop Geoffrey Smith of Adelaide. It is in a sense a farewell for Peter as he says this is likely the last time he will be dressed this way at the Cathedral. But he continues as an Archdeacon in the Diocese of The Murray. Go well, seniot twin.

(If Obadiah’s bishop radar is working, Peter has scored better than two evangelical Bishops in the background.)

Picture by the very focussed Bill Condie.