Double~take | inherited Christianity?

Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”
They replied, “Some say John the Baptist;
others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

T

o start off a week of youth devotions at summer camp we asked our girls (13-14 years old) to introduce themselves. Tell us something about your family, what you like and the short version of your faith - what do you believe?

We had many names, many more pets, and several siblings and foster siblings. We also had a very interesting repeated family tree - no they weren’t all long lost half-cousins, but they pretty much all seemed to consider their faith as a lot like genetics. Kind of like when people say they’re “third generation Salvationists”.
“I’m Christian on my dad’s side, and Indian on my mum’s.”
“My mum’s a minister of some church - something evangelic.”
“I’m Christian on my mum’s side, and atheist on my dad’s.”

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Double~take | vocabulary

… perfume with benefits

T

ransferable skills you gain from summer camp… (transferable: not actually taught, but the only things you really needed to know, considering you will never use any of the other so-called ‘important’ stuff later on…)

Language:
“Chuck us my… them… foot things…” (Well, I knew better than to call them thongs…).
“Ok guys, we’re going back to the teepees, then to Food Land for lunch.”
“You mean the Dining Hall?”
“Yeah. That one.”

(In a skit) “Why are you late? And… why are you saturated???” Loud laughter ensued. Apparently “saturated” is not a Canadian word…

Trust:
On chocolate milk without the Fairtrade logo - she thinks about what our lunch table has spoken about - seriously, and with great concern… and then shrugs it off because “The Salvation Army wouldn’t buy anything made by slaves…”

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Double~take | name game

defining yourself

W

hat’s in a name? Apparently a whole lot, because before the first kids turn up for summer camp this coming week (Newport Adventure Camp, Ontario, Canada), I have to find a camp name. Halogen? Kanga? Swiffer? All taken - not that I wanted to steal them. Aussie? How original! Sagala? Matilda? Bandicoot? Could happen… hopefully I don’t do anything stupid in the next couple of days, or my momentary idiocy will be immortalized forever. Or at least for the summer.

I think camping brings out the best in people. It gives them the chance to rise to challenges, and accomplish things they never thought they could. It’s one of those places where you’re not so defined - you have space to find out who you are. Especially around campfires. Obscured by the flickering shadows - you could be anyone…

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Ragamuffin: Bob and I (3)

Part 3

B

ack to Captain Bob and the conversation we had at Starbucks. When we left Bob in our last blog he was - well, going to the bathroom…

Angry, discouraged and feeling a sudden urge to dump all his cares on me I sat like a counselor hearing the angst of a weary counselee. It was like ‘rage against the machine.’ I guess he just needed to vent. It seemed a long time before Bob came back to the table but he did come back. Trying to lighten the mood I casually joked – “Everything come out alright Bob?” He smiled and sat down for what was going to be round two.

Well, anyway, back to Bob…

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Double~take | Ignite

Igniting a neighbourhood

M

y house is pretty multicultural. That’s probably a good thing, cos so is our neighbourhood. It’s called the Ignite house, cos that’s where the Igniters live, funnily enough…

I hear knocking on the door, and a rattling letterbox slot… for the third time this week. I run down the stairs and open the door to the same bunch of kids as last time, only this time they brought friends. “Is Emily here? Or Drew?” No guys, they’re still on their Ignite mission trip. They’re in Montreal. “Oh. What about Audrey? Where’s Sarah? Can we come in?” They’re in Montreal as well. They won’t be back until Thursday. “Your neighbour’s scary - she keeps yelling at us because we come to the door all the time. Can we come in?” Um… I have to leave pretty soon, but ok…

And six kids charge into the living room, declare themselves terrified of the basement, and ask if they can have a freezie amidst a whirlwind tour of the house… They leave amidst the shouts of our neighbour… she might be scary, but they keep coming back…

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Double~take | Red Shield Appeal

Poverty | a life sentence?

What some people will do for money…

• Stand on top of a fire truck frantically phoning people to get donations to a) get themselves lifted as high as possible by the fire truck bucket; or b) failing that, to get sufficient funds to avoid being hosed down by the fire hose…
• Hold a fundraiser garage sale outdoors in 33 degree heat, with the humidity making it feel like 40… (and periodically “accidentally” getting caught in the line of fire of the car wash being run concurrently…)
• Confidently march to the front doors of dozens of houses to ask for cash, receiving only a sausage sizzle lunch and a free Big Mac at the end of the day for their efforts…

What some other people will do for money…

• Walk day and night on the streets in tight skirts and stilettos to sell themselves: body and soul - two for the price of one…
• Beg from strangers, “borrow” from friends and break their family’s bank - without realising they’re breaking hearts as well. They can quit anytime they want to.
• Wager their high school statistics results against a loaded die in a rigged system - $5 for the chance of $50,000? Bargain! Someone’s got to win sometime… just one more shot… just one more…

What happens when you bring these two groups together? You tell me.

Poverty shouldn’t be a life sentence

Thank God for the Salvos

Double~take appears every Saturday on theRubicon. Find past Double~take posts and a bio of Stephanie Hung here.

Ragamuffin: Bob and I

Part one

I

recently got myself into quite a conversation with Captain Bob - not his real name. His real name is… well, I shouldn’t tell you… I’d better not. Captain Bob was commissioned a few years back and came from a long line of officers in his family.

We sat at Starbucks having a couple of lattes and he started off with just some small talk, idle chit-chat, small talk. That kind of talk is okay for awhile but I thought I would delve a little deeper. So, I realize now it was totally a misstep, but I asked him what he thought about The Salvation Army and officership so far. Wow! I never expected to be there listening for one hour and forty-five minutes. Time mostly spent on a diatribe of complaints.

“So Bob” …I didn’t say the customarily respected title of Captain because I thought of Captain Bob as a friend. A buddy in the struggle against poverty and sin.

“So Bob, what do you think of officership so far?” Well, that opened the floodgates!

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Double~take | be still

the tyranny of the immediate

It’s the simple things in life that are most important:

• A breath of air after you just swam one and a half laps of the pool underwater (aiming for two…)

• A glass of cold water in the middle of a summer night when your mouth feels like the Sahara desert…
• Public restrooms - when you’ve had too many beverages and desperately need to use the facilities…

I got a new phone last weekend. I’m not used to it yet, because while it has an mp3 player, camera, video, internet access and bluetooth capabilities, ironically I have yet to figure out the telephone part of it. I believe my running total is about 10 missed calls to one successfully answered.

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Double~take | questions

I have no shameI

know a great song called Glory Defined. I never knew who it was played by until last weekend, when Building 429 featured in a concert at a youth event I was at. The penny dropped as I was reading their bio – “Glory Defined? Dude, I think that’s on my mp3 player!”

The only issues I have with the song are two lines in the bridge. I can never sing them, because it would be a big fat lie if I did, and my conscience would never let me live it down: “There’s never a question in your message… there’s never a doubt in my mind…”I think asking questions is a dying art form.

In Jesus time it was apparently common practice for question and answer sessions in the synagogues or at the temple. Or basically wherever there happened to be a group of rabbis. Not only was it a chance for younger people to take advantage of their elders’ wisdom, but the elders got the chance to outsmart their peers and be extra smug for a few hours until the next question session. Benefits all round… › Continue reading

Double~take | work & identity

    life - work - life

T

oday at work I overheard on the radio (briefly) a discussion on identity. Basically, one lady had noticed that most people defined themselves based on their jobs – i.e. I’m a butcher/baker/candlestick maker - and her response to this was that she doesn’t want to know what you do, she wants to know who you are. (i.e. Don’t wait until retirement before you start defining yourself in some other way than by your occupation!)

My first thought on this was that my paid occupations have never been anywhere near a part of my identity. The very thought that I would ever think of myself as a factory worker just because I worked there was laughable. My identity has, at various times in the past, been made up of various things - family, my country, my school, and SAGALA – activities similar to scouts run by The Salvation Army in Australia. I was a member of such groups as a child, and a leader after I became old enough. Tattooed across my heart somewhere in bold capitals lie the words “North Brisbane” (the corps where I attended SAGALA sections) and “SAGALA” - these being some very important parts of my identity.

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