While walking in the bush in New South Wales my cousin introduced me to a strange plant: the Grass Tree. From its grassy base protrudes a long flowering spike, once used as spear shafts by the Eora (Aboriginal people living along the south east coastline). It is a very slow-growing plant and begins to flower and seed when - unlikely as it seems - the bush fire rages!
Other plants and fauna in the bush are also dependent on that seeming enemy, the bush fire, to flourish, to reproduce and so maintain their hold in that harsh environment.
The fire of God’s Holy Spirit purges the church; it burns up; sin is destroyed; unhelpful influences are cleared away. But it also causes new ministries to flower and seed, bringing fresh growth to God’s church.
We need the fire, painful though it is. Fresh anointing and new ways of seeing and doing things are going to emerge; unlikely people with unlikely gifts will come to the fore. We won’t always be able to depend on past ways of doing things anymore. We’ve got to find God afresh; we’ve got to find His thinking, His ways for a new era. It’s got to be good. We need it.
Here I am, walking along the rocky coast of the South Pacific, Copacabana, eastern Australia, to be precise. The surf beckons and draws as great waves roll in from the vast ocean and break against the giant boulders that have fallen and lie at the foot of parent cliffs. The morning light has crept along and up the distant horizon and the sun shines on the seething, turquoise-blue water. I’m transfixed, staring at this rare sight (for me) of breath-taking, oceanic beauty.
Muffin however, is only interested in one thing: smells. He’s a beagle (cum spaniel) and this morning he’s found a treasure in the local surf club. O dear, where is he? I run over the dunes calling for him and one of the attendants there points to their communal eating place and I find him with his nose in a discarded paper carton (a common occurence). Sorry, Muffin, it’s the lead from now on.
You see, we’re looking for different things. For me it’s the sounds, the sights, the colours, the panorama of clouds, the looks and smells of the Pacific, maybe a sighting of dolphins or perhaps even a shark. For Muffin, it’s the leftovers and anything tasty that’s been washed up on the tide.
Such is life. We’re all on this earth and we’re each looking for different things - and what we look for is often what we find.
People, people to use or to make money from, people to have sex with, people to entertain or be entertained by, people for company … people, people. Or wait, am I looking for people - to love - the Jesus way, that is. I’ll find them alright.
O dear, I’ve just found out. Muffins aren’t allowed here – not on this part of the beach. There’s a sign up and I just didn’t notice - probably because I was engrossed with the sheer magnificence of the rocky coastline before me. Anyway, no fine this time. I know what I’m looking for now; staring at this wide, wide ocean has got me thinking – not like Muffin. His beagle instincts have already told him. Muffins always know what they want!
