The murky past and unclear present of the census question about religion

I mentioned in my post yesterday that the question on the Australian census about religion has a murky past.

I’m sure that the vast majority of people filling out their census form last night wouldn’t be aware of the history of the simple query “What is the person’s religion?”

For, the question us undergone multiple makeovers over the decades.

Since the first census in 1911, every questionnaire has asked about belief in Australia, albeit as the only optional question to respond to. 

But not every question or options for responses has been identical.

At the start, from 1911 until 1966, the question was open. Write in your response. No prompting. No options. 

From 1971, the question came alongside a prompt “If no religion, write ‘None’”

With this tweak, the allowance for none resulted in this non-belief response surging by over 600%.

By 1991, the open response was replaced with a number of options to tick, with No Religion placed at the bottom of the list.

Finally, the question resembled its modern form by 2016, with No Religion now being the top option to select.

Consequently, the uptake of this option now sits at just below 40%.

The thing to ponder is, has the rise in secularism and non-belief reflected Australian society or the manner of question the populous are posed?

As a believer, perhaps surprisingly, I like how the question has morphed over the decades.

I like that the question has allowed people to be more honest.

I like that the question has given people permission to honestly weigh up where they sit with this topic.

But, the question could - nay should - be clarified further.

For, what does the question - What is a person’s religion? - actually mean?

Is it what you identify with?

What you have an affinity towards?

Where you used to attend?

Where you only go at Christmas or Easter?

Where you sometimes, sporadically, attend?

Where you attend passively?

Where you’re a member of?

What kind of school you attended?

What you’ve been baptised into?

In short, what exactly is religious?

Perhaps that should be cleared up.

Just as there could be some clarity about non-religion.

Does it mean a staunch atheist?

A non-committal agnostic?

Something in the middle?

Perhaps some clarity about what exactly non-religious is would be beneficial.

For, if we want to get an accurate idea of religion in Australia, surely clarity surrounding the question would be beneficial.

What if the question asked about specific attendance?

Could there be any way to gauge genuine belief?

Could there be any way to gauge genuine non-belief?

What if the census question, ironically, removed all options and went back to a write-in response?

Would an open response, in a climate where putting non-religion is far more accepted and less judged, result in a superior outcome?

Why the census matters if you’re a Christian

Tonight is the NIGHT OF THE YEAR!

Census night.

An event, held every five years, where the populous is threatened with a fine if they don’t provide the government with their data.

Of course, as a Studies of Religion teacher, I have to have a special fondness for census data.

I teach on it extensively.

I prepare my students to answer questions based upon it.

I produce a think handout of census graphs and charts annually.

But, census night is important beyond being fuel for SoR multiple choice questions.

The census is an important snapshot of the country.

The census is a vital source of information for determining where resources are allocated.

And, as a person o faith, the census is of greater importance.

For, it’s an opportunity…

To - literally - be counted.

To have your voice herd.

To bring attention to the number of religious people in the country.

To see the trends across the nation.

To accurately reflect the amount of unpaid contributions that Christian’s provide to their community.

To assist the government wisely discern where religious schools, aged care facilities, chaplains and critics should be located, resourced and funded.

The census provided unite opportunity for the religious voice to be numbered, considered no reflected in the outlook of Australia.

This, if nothing else, should make every religious person take the census seriously.

But, as I’ll explain tomorrow, the pesky question about religion as a colourful past and a murky present.

Tiny Bible Bit: Theories of Atonement

Romans 3:25-26 - God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished— he did it to demonstrate his righteousness at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus.

What do you think of when I mention the word theology?

Does it make you nervous?

Does it make you cringe?

Does it make you excited?

As a theology nerd, who has a theology degree, I’m definitely in the latter category.

What do you think of when you hear the word atonement?

Do your eyes glaze over?

Are you puzzled?

Do you sit up in anticipation?

Are you preparing for a confrontation?

Currently, I’m reading about the various theories of atonement - the restoration of a relationship, in the Christian context, through the actions of Christ.

Across church history and various church traditions, the understanding and explanation of how Jesus restored the division between Creator and humanity has undergone a variety of explanations.

The most common are…

The Moral Influence Theory: that Jesus lived and died to be a catalyst for human and societal reform as believers follow the example of Christ.

The Ransom Theory: that, with the fall of humanity into sin, we are now owned by Satan. The death of Jesus has paid a ransom to the devil to redeem humanity.

The Christus Victor Theory: that the death and resurrection of Christ is a victory (like in battle) over the forces of sin, death and the Enemy.

The Satisfaction Theory: that, as a just and holy God, He had to punish sin and the cost had to be bloodshed. Jesus’ death was an appropriate balancing payment worthy to meet the scales of justice God had weighed against sinful humanity. In short, what our injustice/sin stole from the justice of God, Christ could paid back and balance the scales.

The Penal Substitution Theory: this follows closely to the Satisfaction Theory, but with a stronger legal framework. Here, Christ’s death satisfied a legal requirement that God had against humanity’s sin. In this case, the classic analogy is that God is the judge, we are the guilty criminal and Jesus pays the fine the court issues against us.

The Governmental Theory: while Christ takes a punishment for sin upon the cross, it is not to pay a precise debt that humanity owes, but instead shows the degree of seriousness that God takes of sin. 

The Scapegoat Theory: mirroring the Jewish Day of Atonement from Leviticus 17, Jesus has our sin placed upon Himself and it is dealt with on the cross. Here, Christ is as much the victim of the cross as He is the willing sacrifice.

All of the theories above (and there are a few more), to some degree, are drawn from the scriptures. 

Chances are you’ve heard these theories - or elements of them - preached in your church.

I suspect, you’ll gravitate towards one as your preferred understanding of what Christ did and what His death achieved.

No matter, we must always keep in mind that the person and results of Jesus are more important than any squabbles we may have over the precise explanation of what happened at Easter.

Undoubtedly, theological debates about the atonement will simmer away until Jesus returns.

Nonetheless, no matter how we put the consequences into words, we should always be thankful that the division between us and God has been dealt with completely by Jesus.

This all believers can agree on.

The bible passages I want to memorise

I mentioned in my last post that my plan going forward would be to periodically read the entire/majority of the Bible (which is currently scheduled for 2029, 2031, 2033, 2037, 2041, 2044 and 2048).

While I’ll be ploughing my way through various methods of bible reading (which I’ll blog about next), alongside this, I’ll also seek to memorise a whole heap of bible verses.

Currently, I’ve got a list of 356 verses/passages.

Which is… a lot. Approximately 2% of the entire Bible.

It’s… ambitious that I’ll memorise them all.

But, as long as I intentionally continue to bump up against these foundational texts, then I’ll have a change to commit them to familiarity (if not actively memorise them) but also be far better equipped to understand and defend my faith.

So, what currently is on the biblical-memorisation menu?

121 passages from the Old Testament.

235 from the New Testament.

Genesis - 1:1-2, 1:26-31, 2:7, 2:15-25: 3:1-24, 12:1-3, 15:17, 39:12, 50:20

Exodus - 3:5-6, 20:1-17

Leviticus - 17:11

Numbers - 6:24-26, 23:19

Deuteronomy - 6:1-9, 8:1-20, 10:12, 29:29, 30:11-18

Joshua - 1:9, 21:44-45, 24:15

Judges - 2:19, 21:25

Ruth - 1:16-17

1 Samuel - 16:7

2 Samuel - 7:14-15, 12:7, 12:13

1 Kings - 3:9, 11:4, 18:21, 19:12

2 Kings - 6:16-17, 17:15, 23:25

1 Chronicles - 4:10, 29:14

2 Chronicles - 7:14, 16:9, 20:12-15

Ezra - 8:22, 9:6

Nehemiah - 1:11, 4:9

Esther - 4:14-16

Job - 1:21, 2:10, 31:1, 40:1-14

Psalms - 8, 14:1, 23, 37:4, 46:1, 46:10, 91:4, 100:4, 103:12, 119:105, 121:1-2, 127:1, 139:14, 150:6

Proverbs - 1:7, 3:5-6, 4:23, 5:15, 15:1, 17:17, 18:21, 22:6, 27:17

Ecclesiastes - 1:2, 3:1-11, 4:9-10, 4:12, 5:10, 12

Song of Songs - 2:7, 8:6-7

Isaiah - 6:8, 7:14, 9:6, 40:31, 43:1, 43:19, 53:4-7, 61:1-2

Jeremiah - 1:5, 17:9, 29:10-14, 31:31-34

Lamentations - 3:22-23

Ezekiel - 11:19, 36:26-27, 37:4-5

Daniel - 2:21, 3:17-18, 4:35, 9:18

Hosea - 4:6, 11:1-4

Joel - 2:13, 2:28

Amos - 5:21-24

Obadiah - 1:15

Jonah - 4:2

Micah - 4:3, 6:8, 7:18-19

Nahum - 1:2-3

Habakkuk - 2:14, 3:17-19

Zephaniah - 3:17-20

Haggai - 1:5-9

Zechariah - 7:9-10, 9:9

Malachi - 4:2

Matthew - 5:1-12, 5:16-19, 5:45, 6:33, 7:12-14, 7:28-29, 11:28-30, 16:16-18, 18:20, 22:36-40, 25:13, 28:18-20

Mark - 1:1, 1:15, 2:5-7, 2:17, 10:45, 12:30-31

Luke - 2:10-12, 4:16-21, 4:43, 6:46, 7:18-23, 10:36-37, 11:9, 11:28, 15:7, 15:31-32, 15:39, 16:10, 16:13, 19:10, 24:39, 24:44-48

John - 1:1-4, 1:14, 1:18, 1:29, 3:16-18, 3:36, 4:6, 5:17-18, 6:35, 8:12, 8:58, 10:9-11, 10:30-33, 11:25, 11:33-38, 13:34-35, 14:1-3, 14:6, 14:16, 14:26-27, 15:1-2, 15:12-13, 15:17, 15:26, 16:33, 17:20-23, 19:28, 20:28, 20:31

Acts - 1:8, 2:36, 4:12, 4:32-35, 5:29, 10:15, 10:34-35, 11:26, 17:11, 17:22-31, 20:24

Romans - 1:1-4, 1:16, 1:18-20, 2:14-15, 3:22-25, 5:1, 5:8-10, 5:12, 6:1-2, 6:23, 8:1, 8:11, 8:26, 8:28, 8:38-39, 10:9-13, 10:30, 12:1-2, 12:16-18, 13:1, 13:7

1 Corinthians - 1:10, 1:18, 3:10-15, 3:16, 6:19-20, 10:13, 10:31, 11:1, 12:4-6, 13:4-8, 13:13, 14:40, 15:3-8, 15:12-19, 15:51-57

2 Corinthians - 1:20-22, 2:14-16, 3:18, 4:5-7, 4:16-17, 5:7, 5:10, 5:17, 5:20-21, 6:14, 9:6-7, 10:4-5, 12:8-9, 13:13-14

Galatians - 2:20, 3:28, 4:4-5, 5:1, 5:22-25, 6:2, 6:7-9

Ephesians - 1:7, 1:13-14, 2:8-10, 2:19-20, 3:20-21, 4:1-6, 4:29, 5:1-3, 5:8, 5:15, 5:18-19, 6:1-3, 6:10-18

Philippians - 1:21, 2:5-13, 3:20, 4:4-8, 4:11-13, 4:19

Colossians - 1:15-20, 2:9, 3:1-2, 3:11, 3:16-17, 3:23, 4:5-6

1 Thessalonians - 4:13-14, 5:16-22

2 Thessalonians - 2:1-3, 3:13

1 Timothy - 1:15, 2:5, 3:16, 4:12, 4:16, 6:10

2 Timothy - 2:15, 3:16-17, 4:2-7

Titus - 1:7-8, 2:11-12, 3:5

Philemon - 1:15-16

Hebrews - 1:1-3, 2:17-18, 4:12, 4:14-16, 9:27-28, 10:24-25, 11:1-2, 11:6, 12:1–2, 13:8, 13:17

James - 1:2-3, 1:12, 1:22, 1:26-27, 2:17, 3:5, 4:7, 4:10, 5:16

1 Peter - 1:18-19, 2:9, 3:15, 3:18, 4:8, 4:12-13, 5:7-8

2 Peter - 1:5-8, 1:19-21, 3:8-10, 3:16, 3:18

1 John - 1:1-4, 1:5-7, 1:9, 2:2, 3:1, 3:16, 4:16, 4:18-19, 5:1

2 John - 1:4-6, 1:10-11

3 John - 1:4, 1:8

Jude - 1:20-22, 1:24-25

Revelation - 1:8, 3:20, 5:9-12, 7:9-10, 12:11, 21:-5, 22:13, 22:17-21

When you hear about my future reading plan you’ll think I’m crazy

2022-2027.

Six years.

This is how long my current structured bible reading program is.

At the moment I’ve just finished reading and studying the gospel of Luke. 

I’m now kicking off a fortnight reading about the theories of atonement.

Anywhere within 2022-2027, I can tell you - with a degree of confidence - which part of the bible I should be reading/studying.

December 2026? Galatians.

July 2027? Zachariah.

July 2022? Jonah.

February 2023? The first 20 chapters of Exodus.

Now, for some, this will seem far too structured.

Perhaps it is.

But, within the plan there has been some flexibility built in.

Originally, it was a five year plan that has expanded into six.

This endeavour to read the entire bible - and then digest at least one commentary on the text - is just the start of my overarching plan.

For, I have mapped out something which may sound borderline insane.

I can tell you what I’d like to read - for every year - until 2055.

Yes… the next quarter century.

But, 2028 onwards has a lot of variety.

2028-mid 2029 is a series of male biblical personality overviews.

2041 is the female equivalent of personally overviews.

Across various methods (which I’ll blog about soon), I’ll aim to read the entire bible across 2029, 2031, 2033, 2037, 2041, 2044 & 2048.

I’ll divide future years across all the books of the bible - usually with three books per year - between 2030 and 2047.

Across the years I’ll aim to read a book or two on leadership, theology, a “classical” text and a selection of modern authors.

Additionally, I’ll also get to drill down on intentionally on apologetics in 2034, 2035, 2036 and church history in 2047.

But, you may have noted, I’ve not yet mentioned anything about the 2050’s.

Simply? I’ll repeat the original reading plan from 2022-2027.

On average, this should result I me reading half a dozen books, studying three biblical books, making notes on two theological topics and plow through a large chuck of the books currently sitting in my library collecting dust.

While it may seem too structured for some, it works for me. For, until I intentionally plotted out what I wanted to do, the vast majority of years prior to 2022 were sporadic at best.

My most controversial opinion as a teacher

As a youth minister I usually disliked every Christian film I was exposed to. Violently disliked.

In fact, I can barely think of a distinctly Christian film that I enjoy. Certainly not one that I’d choose to watch a second time for entertainment or enjoyment.

The same can’t exactly be said now that I’m a history teacher.

I can think of plenty of historical films which I’ve enjoyed.

There’s plenty that I’ll gladly rewatch. 

But, there’s some films that I’m meant to like that I don’t.

And, as a history teacher, it’s my secret shame.

I don’t like Gallipoli.

I don’t like Jojo Rabbit.

I find one slow and boring.

I find the other silly and boring.

Frankly, I’ll do all I can to avoid showing them to my classes.

Despite how much some of my colleagues love the movies…

No matter if this opinion threatens my membership of the History Teachers Association…

I. Don’t. Like. Them.

I may show the trailers. Out of a sense of duty.

I may show a selected clip (because only the final 8 minutes of Gallipoli is worth watching).

But, I’ll quietly seethe if I am forced to rewatch either of these films for “educational purposes.”

Church starts at 9am. What time should a mature Christian arrive?

8:45.

At the latest.

Now, I know, stuff happens.

Kids are hard to organise.

Spouses can be hard to organise.

Yourself can be hard to organise.

Traffic happens.

Mishaps happen.

Nonetheless, you should aim to be on time for church.

Why?

Because it shows that you think that church is important.

Because it encourages those who are leading the service. (I can’t tell you how discouraging it is to begin a church service when there’s few people in attendance, yet they will trundle in during the first ten minutes)

Because it gives you a chance to welcome newcomers to church. (How discouraging must it be to turn up to a new church service and outnumber the regulars?)

Because it gives you a chance to welcome fellow congregants. (How discouraging is it to be in your own church and be on your lonesome)

Mature believers know that their role on a Sunday is beyond just consuming, but that their contributing ministry starts the moment they walk into church.

Arriving at 9:05 and leaving the minute the service concludes makes you a customer.

Mature believers know that more than that is expected.

Why a Christian should read “the Classics”

I just finished reading - again - On the Incarnation by St Athanasius.

In the past I wrote how I can be underwhelmed by “the classics.”

So, why should we read them?

Well my good friend Clive Staples addresses this very question in the preface of my “classical work” by St Athanasius.

First, he states that it’s far better to wrestle with the primary sources of developmental Christian theology.

The reason, he asserts, is that if you read the foundational documents as they were written and interact with the issues they were trying to address (which are not different to the ones we face today) then we will be far better equipped to understand our faith than just digesting the secondhand outcomes.

For, Mr Lewis’ second point, is clear. If we only jump onto the modern writings for our theology, then we are interacting with a conversation which has been well underway. We miss centuries of what has happened previously. There are learnings to be had in the theological journey.

Third, as we read old books, then our modern issues can be put into perspective. As I alluded to above, we see that - indeed - there is nothing new under the Sun. We can learn the familiar arguments and old missteps.

When we spot their “classic” fallacies, we can learn to better spot our own.

When the “classics” wrestle with foundational questions, we can learn how the original thinkers accounted for them.

As C.S. writes, two heads are better than one. 

Modern and old. 

Contemporary and classic.

My biggest problem is working out what “classics” I should read next.

What ecclesiastical groundwork should you lay?

Ideally, you should be able to predict what usually happens at the church service you usually attend.

While I love occasional variety, your run-of-the-mill church service should be predictable.

Welcome. Singing. Announcements. Prayer. Bible reading. Sermon. Singing.

This is the predictable outline for a regular Sunday at my church.

Definitely not groundbreaking.

In fact, this church service blueprint reflects the majority of Protestant churches in Sydney. Probably Australia. Possibly the Western Church.

So, any well-travelled churchgoer should have a decent idea what to expect at my church.

But… a church newbie wouldn’t know what to expect.

And this is where COVID changed everything.

With the pandemic came a flood of online church.

For some churches, they retained the online church experience.

We did.

This creates an evangelistic advantage which previously didn’t really exist.

Now, you can give someone a real-time glimpse into your church service.

They could, if they want, “attend” digitally before they commit to attending physically.

Now, more than ever, you’re able to provide an accurate picture of your church before someone decides to commit further.

This, at an unprecedented level, can demystify the church service and effectively lay the groundwork for a softer landing within the ecclesiastical framework.

Who knew that a COVID hangover could be an evangelistic breakthrough?

What should be on a Spiritual Bucket List?

On occasions I have had a spiritual goal I’ve been working towards. Usually revolving around reading the Bible.

My current reading/study plan is in year five of a six year overview.

But, I’ve got no overarching bucket list items.

So, what could be someone’s hypothetical spiritual life-goals?

Read the entire bible.

Read the apocrypha.

Memorise a chapter of the bible.

Memorise a book of the bible.

Learn biblical Greek/Hebrew.

Read a set number of spiritual classical works.

Read every book of a spiritual hero.

Read a theology textbook.

Do a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or the Vatican.

Walk the Camino.

Meet the Pope.

See your children come to faith.

See your children be baptised.

See your children marry a fellow believer.

See your child’s religious wedding ceremony.

Be a part of a physical healing.

Be a part of an exorcism.

See a miracle.

Receive a miracle.

Speak in tongues.

Hear the audible voice of God.

Keep a prayer journal over the course of decades.

Give in a way that is life-changing. Ideally, anonymously.

Start a church.

Be a part of a church revival/renewal.

Become a pillar of a church community.

Publicly honour your life-changers.

Plan your funeral.

Preach a sermon.

Lead someone to Christ.

Lead singing in a church.

Lead a small group/bible study.

Go on a mission trip overseas.

Obviously, no one can do all 33 things on this list.

I won’t.

In fact, most people wouldn’t want to do everything on the list above.

I sure don’t.

So far, I’d consider that I could already tick off a dozen things - I won’t tell you which.

By the time I’m bucket-kicking, I’d hope to achieve two-dozen things on the list - again, you can guess which ones.

Softening your introduction questions

Tell me about yourself?

Married.

2 kids.

Teacher.

This is my BBQ bio.

Marital status.

Job.

This is the default information you serve up when introducing yourself.

When we meet someone for the first time we may prompt them to divulge a part of their BBQ bio.

What do you do for a job?

Who are you here with?

One reason we - and read the grunting Aussie male - may ask these questions is to determine the others status.

We will judge their answer.

We will rank ourselves against their bio.

But, with maturity, these things matter less.

We become less insecure.

We work out that the comparison game sucks.

So, you soften your introduction questions.

As you grow in wisdom, you ask wiser questions.

How do you spend your day?

Who’s in your family?

These questions are far more open and, therefore, less threatening.

They allow the responder to direct the narrative.

Frankly, these questions allow for better conversation.

The sneaky church creeper

The obvious disclaimer to attach to this headline is that this post has nothing to do with guys in trench-coats, windowless vans or anything which may result in you being interviewed by the police.

But, every Sunday… in all churches… there’s a church creeper.

Maybe it’s the person doing the notices.

Or about to deliver the bible reading.

Or saying a prayer.

All church services have creepers.

People who are, as inconspicuously as possible, slithering from their chair towards the front of the church.

Waiting.

Often crouching.

Ready to pounce once their element in the service is due.

I’ve been a creeper.

With good intentions I’ve crept towards the front of church in preparation for a seamless transition.

But, viewing a church creeper is ecclesiastical gold.

And, these creepers exist beyond those with upfront roles.

If you’re late? 

You creep in.

If you’re setting up morning tea?

You creep out.

The church service can be a hive of congregational creepers, scurrying amongst the pews.

Chances are, you’ll notice one out of the corner of your eye the next time you’re in church.

When do healing prayers transition?

I used to work for the denomination with, on average, the oldest church members anywhere in Australia.

Needless to say, some died.

Others got sick.

Old age, sickness and death are a chain of events all of us will encounter. It may be personally. It may be a family member. It may engulf acquaintances.

Nonetheless, as those around us creep into old age - if they are believers - should our prayers for them be adjusted?

Should we, if someone is advanced in age, always pray for healing?

Would that be the best thing for a centurion?

Should we, instead, pray for comfort?

Or peace?

Or preparedness?

For, inevitably, death will find all of us (unless Jesus returns earlier!).

Should our prayer for the elderly be different than, say, our prayers for a 40-year-old?

Of course, irrespective of age, everyone could use a prayer for comfort, peace and preparedness. But, in general, we desire to see the 40-year-old restored to health.

But what of someone who is 105 years old?

Maybe we should be as much - if not more - concerned with their preparedness to face Jesus. 

Hopefully, this will be one thing they are looking forward to.

Like meeting a friend.

For, at this moment, they will be healed. Fully restored. Without pain or discomfort.

The trouble is, I’m comfortable with the bedside prayer agenda being a balance of preparedness as it is healing for someone in old age.

100.

90.

80…

70?

Fewer years than that???

This is where the petition gets tricky.

Unless the prognosis is terminal, where is the balance between our thoughts being primarily about this life or more concerned about the afterlife?

When is it appropriate for the driving question of our pray to transition from “Are they getting better?” to “Are they dying well?”

The pain reaction which stays with a man

There’s a distinct moment in the life of a young lad that, in my mind, determines where he is on the path to manhood.

It has nothing to do with your birthday or a date on any calendar.

It’s not shaving for the first time.

It’s not getting your first job.

It’s not picking up a lady and getting laid.

It has to do with the way you respond to getting hurt.

When you’re a child and you get hurt you respond in two ways.

You cry.

You look for your mum.

These are the responses of a child. Accepted responses.

But, as you mature, the way you react to physical pain changes.

Hurt equals anger.

Every man knows this it be true.

They have all undergone the same metamorphosis.

As a bloke gets older, if he stubs his toe, he’ll swear, not cry.

If a bloke falls over, he’ll make noises like Peter Griffin, but he’ll no longer shed a tear.

This is the subtle change that you see on the rugby field around the ages of 12-13.

As injuries happen, some weep. Others yell. The new accepted response.

No matter, everyone fell for the old “magic sponge” trick to make you feel better

(I said it was a sign on maturity, not intelligence).

Nonetheless, this transformation for the way we react to pain stays with us.

Hurt = anger.

And, what starts as a reaction to physical pain, can bleed over to other forms of pain.

Relational pain.

Emotional pain.

Disappointment.

Dissatisfaction.

Grief.

We are conditioned to avoid tears and release our hurt through anger.

Ditto for fear.

Same for a lack of control.

This is why men, most often, are angry.

They are manifesting their pain.

And, what worked throughout puberty - and what was accepted by their peers - is still their go-to response.

The worst sound to hear in the middle of a bible reading

Pages turning.

If you hear a lot of pages turning in the middle of a bible reading then it is a sign that you’ve made a mistake.

The problem isn’t that people are still using traditional paperback scriptures. In fact, this is tremendous.

The problem isn’t that people are opening up to the bible passages being read in church. In fact, this is fantastic.

The problem is that the bible reader didn’t wait long enough.

The people weren’t given enough of an opportunity to locate the passage before the congregational leader launched into their public reading.

So, while people bringing their bibles, opening their bibles and using their bibles is the precise opposite of a problem, you need to ensure that those who have arrived to church with a analogue bible have the chance to crack open God’s word and follow along in their bibles.

Are the increasing physical demands of traditional testing still fair?

I currently have a lot of marking to do.

A LOT.

Dozens of hours.

All to be done outside of school hours.

Of course, this means that I’ve watched nine classes of examinations over the last week.

Anguished expressions.

Confused faces.

Boredom as the final moments tick away and the student finished their paper 15 minutes ago.

But, one physical trait kept emerging.

Discomfort.

Fingers.

Hands.

Wrists.

Arms.

Backs.

Necks.

Twisted.

Shaken.

Stretched.

All because the essays and exams had been hand-written. Old-school. Pen & paper. Analogue.

And the result was painful to watch.

But, as the distress unfolded before my eyes, I wondered about the stain that traditional exams put a modern student under.

Are students in 2026 at a greater disadvantage compared to a generation ago?

Due to their lack of practice in writing, are we progressively hindering students ability to accurately convey their knowledge due to the medium we ask them to communicate in?

Now, I’m not advocating for the abolition of written exams.

Writing matters.

The ability to communicate through writing matters.

It always will.

Or at least should.

But, as I witnessed the twitching and twiddling during the exams - actions costing the students examination time - I recalled that I went through a similar thing.

Due to the increased use of technology - be it laptops, iPads or phones - and the increasing physical toll that prolonged exposure to these activities has, is traditional testing methods setting up our students to preform their best?

How do you instigate the 25th Amendment for a church minister?

With the current... somewhat erratic... bloke in the White House, there's regular discussion about instigating the 25th Amendment.

In fact, there was regular chatter about the 25th concerning his predecessor (perhaps the USA should select someone NOT IN THEIR LATE 70's!).

Of course, the 25th Amendment outlines the scenarios which unfold to unseat and replace the President due to unfitness - be they physical or mental. 

But, do churches have similar guardrails?

With the advancing age of many ministers? Should they?

For the highest position within Catholicism, there is no real ability to remove him forcibly. He's, in the vast majority of cases, in the job for life - for better or worse.

Outside of that, it gets far messier.

If your church has a hierarchical system, then there may be some ability for a regional overseer to remove a minister who is unfit.

But, surely this is like sending the fire brigade once the house to well alight.

And, what of those who worship within independent or less-structured denominations?

Who's responsibility is it to tap the minister on the shoulder then?

As well-meaning as a minister agent may be, who will put them (and the congregation) our of their misery? 

While the Anglican church has a policy in place for the minimum requirements which a minister must meet, this only works effectively if someone is travelling about to evaluate if standards are being met or a concern is raised.

So, does the duty just defer back to the local leadership of a church?

Do they, having watched the physical or cognitive regression of their minister, have an understood and stated ability to eventually institute an ecclesiastical 25th Amendment?

Would a lot of lay-leadership within the church be aware - or comfortable - with the power (and responsibility) that they wield? 

The 11 markers of a good teacher

One of my aims this year is to oversee a university prac student for the first time. By now, I feel competent enough to be able to pass on my “vast knowledge.”

After teaching for half-a-decade, I’ve now got a grasp - through both experience and observation - on what makes for a good teacher.

Presence - A good teacher has authority. They are a presence in the classroom. Kids  change their posture when you approach. Personally, it’s my voice which projects this presence. It’s strong. It’s confident. 

Calm - This presence should be soothing. A calm presence. A calming presence. An adult amongst children. Fair. Predictable.

Passionate - Although you’re calm, you’re not boring. Students should be able to see your enthusiasm for your subject and profession. Your joy for your job and students should be evident.

Knowledgeable - But, your passion must be fuelled by competence. You know your content. You know what you’re teaching and what you’re going to teach next. You also know why you’re teaching it.

A learner - You’re not stagnant in your knowledge. Your keep studying. Keep reading. Keep going to conferences. Keep gleaning snippets from everything to strengthen your knowledge.

Reflective - With the passing of time, you continually seek to improve. To improve your teaching practices. To improve your content delivery. To improve your connection with your students. This only happens if you teach, experiment, reflect, tweak and then repeat.

Knows the systems - You don’t only know your content, but the systems and structures used to apply that information in a manner in which the education department desires. You’ve taught enough, marked enough and heard enough to know the best methods, short-cuts and work-arounds that your students need to hear.

Has perspective - You’re not just the adult because you’re older. You’re also wiser. And you share your wisdom. Wisdom about subject selection. Wisdom about higher education. Wisdom about the workforce. Wisdom about… adulting. Wisdom about the next term, next year and next five years in the life of a student.

Professional - Your look. Your speech. Your actions. 

Prepared - You know what you’re doing. Where you’re going. What you and your students need. You have it with you. In advance.

Collegial - You work well with others. You share resources. You help others. You step up when needed. You’re friendly. You make your workspace welcoming.

The important ministry of the third person

Inviting someone to church can cause a fair degree of angst.

One of the sources must be… will your guest feel welcome?

Will anyone speak to them?

Will your visitor find others friendly?

This is where the vital ministry of the third person emerges.

For, if someone is going to be made welcome and begin to feel included in a church, then they need to converse with new people.

No matter if a newbie is alongside a friend or riding solo, this visitor needs two other people alongside them.

Just one other person speaking with them can be overwhelming.

Two people is the sweet spot.

And, this is where the ministry of the third person comes in.

Even if you’re an introvert, you can be the third person. Someone else has broken the ice, you’re just expanding the network for the guest.

Adding another friendly face.

Bringing another avenue to strike up a conversation.

Widening the net of people who can make the visitor welcome, included and - in time - belong.

Does your readiness to pray look more like a 40-year-old woman or a 17-year-old boy?

You need to be in the right mood…

With the temperature correct…

Without any distractions…

In comfy clothing…

With a pressing need…

Having just gone to the bathroom…

With your entire daily checklist complete…

In order to pray.

It can be amazing how many hoops we set up for ourselves in order to have “a good prayer session.”

Why, in short, do we think that our prayers need adequate foreplay?

In some ways our prayers can mirror the stereotypical middle-aged housewife’s sex life. Everything must be perfectly aligned or… it doesn’t happen.

But, what if they reflected the stereotypical 17-year-old boy’s sex drive?

What if our attitude to prayer was hair-triggered? 

What if we were good-to-go at the drop of a hat?

What if our prayers were spontaneous?

Always at the ready?

Of course, the analogy is crass, but the idea behind it - I think - accurately depicts they reality of Western Christianity.

We need to GET ready to pray.

We don’t start ready.