If the Imagination is a magical carpet that can take you anywhere, then last night my family went on a on a magical adventure to the North Pole to meet Father Christmas.

It was part of our pre-Christmas celebrations which, to be honest with you, lasts all year. It begins early January when we buy most of our Christmas gifts, trimmings, decorations etc at massively reduced prices.

We watched a movie together – one of our markdown purchases – The Snowman.
The Snowman is a wordless (save for the song ‘Walking in the Air’) animated adventure about a young English boy who makes a snowman one Christmas Eve, only for it to come to life during the night. For those of us who originate from colder climates, and fall into the baby boomer category, it is a trip back in time to the days when a toaster was a long fork held before an open fire, when everyone’s parents had false teeth, and letters to Father Christmas went airmail, – whooshed straight up the chimney in a very reassuring fashion.

The Snowman animated film was adapted from Raymond Briggs beautiful book which was originally published in 1978. The film was made by TVC London. No-one could have predicted the film would be such a success. It won a BAFTA for Best Children’s Drama and was OSCARTM nominated. This year The Snowman celebrates 28 years on Film!
The simple animation of Raymond Briggs beautiful drawing brings a charm often lost in today’s hi-tech animations.
My four year old granddaughter saw it for the first time last night. She cried at the end of the movie when the Snowman meets the fate of all Snowmen.

Her grief did little to discourage her from ‘Walking in the Air’ again at the earliest possible opportunity. In spite of the known ending, or, maybe because of it, she was able to watch the movie again and on the second viewing, dance the dance of the Snowmen, that’s the scene where the Snowman and the boy dance a Scottish jig, at a North Pole party thrown by Father Christmas himself. I danced with her, in spite of, or, may be because of, a known end.
I know how it ends. Little girls grow up, time and Snowmen melt away all too soon. A strange thing happened as we danced around and around together. Maybe it was just dizziness, but I became disoriented and confused. I experienced role confusion! Role confusion is a situation where an individual has trouble determining which role he or she is actually playing. Surely, I was the Snowman in this little performance. I saw myself in that character, wanting to experience life to the full, squeezing the most out of whatever time is left. Hopefully, in the creation of a memory that would live on in a child. I became confused; for a brief but glorious moment I found myself as a child, caught up in the supernatural experience which is Christmas.
In spite of all the commercialism, Christmas really is a supernatural experience. I hope you become confused this Christmas. So confused that you find yourself in a place where you don’t normally see yourself.

Merry Christmas
Orrell

The young couple had just returned from their honeymoon. The confetti was still to be found in their luggage.
The memory of their wedding vows still alive in their minds, they floated into the spare room of their new home; there they where, the wedding gifts! Loving friends and family had covered everything from their gift catalog, no double ups and no surprises. Just behind the gifts, and standing out like a very soar thumb amid the new acquisitions, were two piles of personal belongings. The clutter of two very different lives, heaped like the over spill of charity bins.

His heap spoke of hast and an almost artistic carelessness that in a different context could pass as art instillation. He had lived in a shared flat for the past three years and owned a rage of life’s necessities, including an ironing board and an eclectic set of golf clubs.
She had come straight to the marital domicile from her parent’s home and her belongings seemed to indicate a certain reluctance to sever ties completely. Sleep over would be a good description of her stuff and her frame of mind. So there they were, all that this wide eyed couple were bringing to there new life together, “But where on earth did those other bags come from?” Sitting almost hidden from view behind the remnants of the old life and the hopes for the new was two very over packed bags.

The bags were old and heavy, the kind of bags that airport baggage handler’s dread.  The structure of each was distorted by age and weight.  The handles had been reattached many times using a wide variety of materials and techniques.  Constant repair had reclassified these bags into “almost hand made.” On each was a label with a date.
The dates corresponded exactly with the very day, month and year that this man and this woman were born. “Who packed those bags so tightly that they could hardly be lifted? Who brought them along?” The answer slowly dawned.
They had packed those bags. He had been stuffing things away for the past twenty seven years, piece by painful piece, an entire life’s heart-rending emotional history, a history of suppression. She had been suppressing for twenty four years, the three years difference had done nothing in reducing the weight or contents of her bag.

A life time of indecisiveness had crossed this new threshold and moved in with them. When he was growing up, his parent fought all the time. The no holds barred variety. He would lie awake at night listening to them yelling at each other. As an adult when ever he found himself in a conflict situation he remembered his parents fighting, in particular he remembered the steamy silence that followed a fight, and lasted for days.
He recorded each of these painful episodes in detail, and packed them in that old bag, with the rest of his emotional laundry. She was afraid of friction and used avoidance strategies with the skill of a platoon leader. She suffered from low self esteem, and was scared of rejection. Her boundaries were constantly patrolled. Suppressing her deepest convictions she often felt depressed and resentful.

This couple never intended to bring their old issues into their new relationship; rather they were dragged along unwittingly.  Both secretly hoped that in this new relationship they would find a safe haven from confrontational situations. That hope was after all the thing that attracted them to each other.  

What’s Emotional Baggage?  It’s what people call your stuff, your issues. It’s the baggage everyone brings from the past, from childhood, adolescence, and earlier relationships.  Everyone has it, and everyone needs help in dealing with it.

If you’re not aware of yours and your partner’s baggage, you’re at the mercy of subconscious patterning, a fancy term for repeating history.  So if you are at a threshold right now, about to enter into or out of a relationship, or just tired of lugging your “stuff” around, do yourself a great kindness, and get a professional relationships counsellor to “check” your emotional baggage.

If you live in the Pacific Pines area of the Gold Coast, you can contact us for a free “Family History Analysis.”  It will help you understand your family background and help you to build a positive future.

Much Grace
Orrell

A new sermon series marking the Advent of Christmas

At Christmas, heaven visited earth.
And the advance parties, preparing the way, were angels.
Their wondrous presence opened doors and prepared hearts for the miraculous event about to happen.

Angels are everywhere during the advent of Christ.
The largest concentration of angels anywhere in the Bible occurs right here—rebuking, informing, encouraging, guiding, protecting, advising, and most of all, worshiping.

The presence of angels and their message did precisely then what we desire now for ourselves and our neghbourhood: they transformed the vision of ordinary folks going about their ordinary routines by revealing to them that the living God was in fact entering their world—that he was, as in the case of the shepherds, right in the neighborhood.

A dejected priest, a bewildered young virgin, a mystified fiancé, perplexed shepherds—all were met with messages by angels. The impact on each of them was profoundly life-changing.

If we can see the incarnation through angels’ eyes, should we expect anything less?

• November 27
FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT
“AGAINST ALL ODDS”
Luke 1:5-25

The Christmas story begins with a strange character: an old priest dutifully preparing to perform his religious rituals. On the outside everything appears to be perfectly in place. On the inside, however, it is a different story.

Here’s one of the ironic paradoxes of productivity.  
Usually the most productive thing you can do is not have your schedule jam-packed. You need to have white space in your schedule. That is sacred space, God room. That’s where the best of the creative ideas comes from. With graphic design, one thing you realize is that white space is a good thing, on the page or on screen.  It’s the mark of an amateur to try to cram as much as possible on the page and leave no white space. You don’t want to crowd everything you possibly can into every possible moment you have.

Our culture places a lot of emphasis on productivity, we Christians do too. The result is often an overloaded life style.  I’ve been pondering the difference between productivity and fruitfulness.  Have you ever noticed that the Bible talks a whole lot more about one than the other?  As an extreme example, think of workaholics. Would you call them productive? Probably, look at all of the stuff they get done! Would you call them fruitful?  No, their lives and priorities are totally out of balance. They neglect their relationships -with God and with everyone else.

William Wilberforce was a white space kind of a guy, a man who left room for God. He headed the parliamentary campaign against the British slave trade which abolished slavery.  Here’s the interesting thing: Wilberforce wrote one book in his lifetime, and it was not on social reform. It was on the doctrine of justification by faith apart from works.

He did it because he realized that the way to produce a fruitful life was not to focus on the fruit, good works and social reform, but on the source, the life from which good works and social reform flow—Jesus, the true vine.

The key to fruitfulness is not effort; though effort will be necessary. The key to fruitfulness is not circumstance; though how we handle our circumstances is important. The key to fruitfulness is not our personal strength, charisma, or wisdom; though each of these will be given to us to help make us more fruitful. The key to fruitfulness is for us to have our lives joined to the one, true, healthy vine — Jesus.  As our lives are joined to his, as we “abide” in him and He in us, then fruitfulness happens naturally.  As branches, we derive our health and productivity from the Vine.

Tired of living like an amateur, trying to cram as much as possible onto every page with no white space? Want to live productively for God? Then let your life be joined to Jesus! Invite him in to abide in you as you draw close to abide in him.

Grace & Peace

Orrell, Campus Minister