Dear friends,

It’s not my dog, I don’t have to take it for a walk.

Just before I went on leave recently, a colleague shared this saying with me. I am quite sure this colleague did not realise the impact it would have on me, and how often I would repeat it as a kind of mantra. I certainly didn’t expect that to be so when I frantically wrote it down “just in case I forgot it later.”

Dear friends,

How easy it is to judge! I was reading a Facebook post written by someone I respect hugely. She was writing about a recent experience in Melbourne with their current lockdown. Walking around her neighbourhood (for essential shopping and exercise), she wrote that she was angry and frustrated by the people gathering on footpaths and in parks, drinking and eating their takeaways together with no due respect to the rules about mask-wearing and physical distancing. She was honest enough to admit that her emotions arose in part from the long queues outside the places from which she wanted to get her own takeaway drink and food, and her sense of “righteousness” (my word, not hers) stemmed from the necessity of having to keep wearing her mask and keep walking back to her home.

On the wall near the café in Wesley Mission at 220 Pitt Street Sydney, you can read the following words attributed to John Wesley:

Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.

How do we do this 300 years post John Wesley’s plea? How can you make that difference in your own corner of the world, when you are dealing with your own issues, looking after family, juggling work and caring roles, and at times struggling with your own mental health issues that can strike any of us at any time?

Dear friends,

How are you? It’s a question that forms a natural part of greeting one another: “Hi, how are you?” rolls off our tongues readily, and often it seems there is little (if any) pause to listen to an answer. Mostly the reply is, “Hi, I’m fine. How are you?” Even when we are anything but fine. On occasions, when I’ve been aware that a person I’m greeting is actually not doing ok, I have sometimes repeated the question as “And how are you really?” This has been intended to invite a deeper, more meaningful response if the person would like to engage. The intent is to say, “I am here for you. I am listening. I care about you.”

Dear friends,

For a while there seemed some hope that the situation in NSW generally and Sydney specifically might ease within a few weeks. I feel a strong tendency toward disappointment and despair that it is still ongoing. And so, I pick up my “pen” to write the pastoral notes again, praying that they will offer hope and encouragement to others as well.

Dear friends,

We are on the precipice of the Holy Weekend.

I am constantly taken by the fact that on the first “Easter,” Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to Mary then the disciples whether they were ready for it or not. He had told them, repeatedly, that this was going to happen. I wonder if this was in any of their minds on the Friday as Jesus was being crucified? Was there any sense for these followers who were the first to hear Jesus talk about rising from the dead that maybe he was speaking the truth? Just maybe this thing he talked about might happen? Was there a sense of awe and mystery? Of leaning forward in their seats to wait with bated breath just in case it could happen?

Uniting's Advocacy Team is calling on your to help support proposed changes to drug laws in NSW.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘂𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗪𝗲𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗗𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟲 𝗮𝘁 𝟳:𝟯𝟬𝗣𝗠 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝑺𝒚𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒚𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆. 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳, 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀, & 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 - 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿𝘀, 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲, & 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰

Dear friends,

Having a break, some time away from the business and busyness of work, no matter how much you might love what you do, is critical to refresh body, mind and spirit. (A small confession here — I’m very skilled at reminding others of the necessity of having time off, yet not so good at heeding my own wisdom!)