Shedding new light on the ancient Southern Cross

Spotting celestial signs of Jesus’ scars in the Southern Cross
Published in Sunday Age / Sydney Morning Herald on 6 January 2019

https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/life-and-relationships/faith-spotting-celestial-signs-of-jesus-scars-in-the-southern-cross-20190103-p50ph2.html

Why are the iconic five stars on our national flag named the Southern Cross rather than kite or diamond?

It was Italian explorer Andrea Corsali who first coined ‘this cross’ as ‘so fair and beautiful’ in 1515 while on a Portugese voyage to the Indian Ocean.

But why evoke the crucifixion and therefore Christ when observing configurations of constellations?

This question led me to ponder the significance of the five stars, especially the faintest fifth star Epsilon Crucis, at the ‘heart’ of the cross, which our indigenous Wardaman astronomers named Ginan. This is the same star that is excluded from the New Zealand flag.

The Southern Cross ‘asterism’ has legendary meaning in indigenous Australian cultures, representing a sting ray, an emu’s head and a possum. In colonial Australian cultures, it has been adopted on the national flag, in the Eureka Stockade, as a ‘badge of honour’ tattoo and as a symbol of resistance.

When viewed as the ‘crux’ (cross in Latin), these lights that pierce our night sky do indeed bear more than a resemblance to the lacerations that pierced the crucified Jesus. A nail for each hand, a nail driven into his feet, a crown of thorns on his head, and a lance through his side.

Chapter 19 in the gospel of John states that the Jewish leaders did not want the bodies left on crosses on the Sabbath, so the soldiers broke the legs of the crucified ones to hasten their deaths. ‘But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead … the soldiers pierced his side with a spear.’

Suddenly, the fifth star, and the word Cross, shed a different light.

The five stars match the five scars.

The enigma deepens when we consider that the estimated age of this constellation is between 10 and 20 million years. It is the smallest of the 88 known constellations, but perhaps the greatest in significance.

It now spells a searing reminder of the ‘big bang’ of love, long before the crucifixion was prophecised, long after we felt the ripples of this ‘supernova’. It heralds the new era (Anno Domini) that established our calendar years.

Due to the movement of the Earth’s axis, the Southern Cross has been invisible to the northern hemisphere since about 400 AD. Together with the two Pointers, it now navigates us to the South Celestial Pole. But together with the four gospels, it navigates us to the celestial sacrifice of the ‘lamb of God’.

If a star pointed the magis to the birth of Jesus, stars can point to the death.

Can we shrug off the scar-stars of the Southern Cross as a cosmic coincidence?

23/09/201824/09/2018

The Pole and the Tree

THE POLE AND THE TREE, an allegory by Joseph Wakim

The lightning flashed across the skies like an X-ray of arteries from the heart. It ignited a snapshot of the silhouettes above the horizon.

No human dared walked the streets in this electric storm. Even umbrellas were unsafe.

The thunder echoed seconds after the burst of light.

It was so deafening that no human could hear the private conversation that was being conducted place on one tree-lined street.

Both were born as spotted gum trees.

One grew gloriously in the front garden of a double storey, brick-veneer home. Her branches spread gracefully to kiss the sun in order to provide shade for the fauna who sought shelter and safety there. Her trunk resembled a human stretching in a yawn, with its limbs arching and twisting.

The other had no limbs. He was carved into a perfect tube, stretching straight up like a power pole. In fact, he was a power pole. A short horizontal plank was bolted into his vertical axle, where the electric cables hung. He used to shed its bark in spots, like his neighbour. Now he was stripped bare for the world to see. This pole had no leaves, no seeds, no spots, and no-one to call him ‘home’. The humans treated him as dead, as a utility, to carry their telegraphs across the land.

This pole moaned in pain and the neighbouring tree could hear the crackling of the electricity sparks which humans called the ‘crown’.

To the tree, the crackling sounded like the gritting of teeth.

‘Why do you do that?’ asked the tree.

The pole did not answer. He could not answer in this excruciating pain. Another flash. Another thunder. Another crown. Another moan.

‘What is it, dear neighbour?’ the tree asked again.

‘Neighbour?’ the pole panted. ‘I am no neighbour. We are not the same!’

The tree already knew that. ‘But I can see you. I can hear you.’

‘But you can’t feel what I feel,’ the pole muttered. ‘They think I am dead.’

‘Who?’

‘Who do you think?’ the pole muttered. ‘The humans who did all this to me.’

‘You mean they thought they killed you?’

‘I wish they did’, the pole continued. ‘I wish I was dead.’

‘Well you’re not,’ confirmed the tree. ‘I can hear you … panting.’

‘They think no sap means no life!’ the pole grumbled. ‘But there’s much more to us than sap.’

‘What did they do to you, dear neighbour?’

‘What did they do?’ the pole echoed. ‘What didn’t they do?’

Another thunderclap. Another cry in pain. The tree felt pity but did not know how to help.

‘I see they stripped you of your … arms’, the tree began.

‘Arms only?’ the pole mocked. ‘They stripped me of much more! They stripped me of my skin. They stripped me of my spots. They stripped me from my family roots. They stripped me from my neighbours. They stripped me bare.’

The tree sighed. ‘I’m so sorry, dear neighbour. But they cannot strip you of your dignity. You still have that.’

‘What dignity?’ scoffed the pole. ‘Can’t you see me naked up here, with electricity currents bolted all around me, running through my spine?’

‘I don’t understand,’ the tree shrugged and shook her branches. ‘Why would they do that to you?’

‘Not just me,’ replied the pole. ‘Open your eyes and see how many of us are tied together, for as far as the eye can see. We are slaves chained together, to carry their burden on our shoulders.’

‘What burden?’ asked he tree.

‘For their electricity, their telephones, their messages, their …’

Another bolt, another scream.

‘If I was dead, I would feel nothing!’ the pole shrieked with a trembling voice. ‘This is eternal punishment!’

The tree was saturated in the pouring rain but this did not blur her vision and her curiosity for the truth. ‘Punishment … for what? What did you do, dear neighbour?’

‘Do?’ the pole sneered. ‘How can we do anything? We were trees, just like you. What do you do?’

‘I … I grow, and give branches, and attract birds, and make beautiful …’
‘Stop it! Please stop reminding me of the life they took away from me!’

‘But you asked me …’

‘And now I’ve asked you to stop!’ demanded the pole.

‘So why the punishment?’ repeated the tree. ‘What possible crime could a tree commit?’

After a long pause, the pole exhaled and whispered, ‘Straight!’

‘Straight?’ repeated the tree. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘My crime is that I grew straight … straight up to the light. No twisting or turning. I cut right through the air and grew directly toward the one true light. Not their human lights that they switch off and on.’

‘So they stripped you bare and executed you like this … for being straight?’ concluded the tree.

‘Oh how I wish they could hear me now!’ the pole cried out. ‘I will talk so straight it will cut them!’

‘But you said that you carry their messages’, the tree reminded him. ‘Why can’t you carry your own message and send it.’

The pole shuddered. ‘Can’t you see I am dis-armed! They call me a power pole! What power do I have? The only power I feel is that electricity which burns at whatever is left of me.’

The tree sighed in sympathy. ‘I want to help you, dear neighbour.’

‘Help yourself!’ the pole replied. ‘Lean over here and take my advice.’

The tree swayed in the storm as close as she could muster. ‘I’m listening.’

‘Don’t grow straight. Learn from me. Twist and curl. Stretch and twirl. Arch and join hands with your neighbours. Just don’t grow straight. They will target you. They will strip you. They will crucify you … like me … like us … like all of us.’

Another flash of lightning and the crown around the head of the pole became a luminous blue.

He screamed. ‘It burns!’

‘Oh I can’t bear this any longer, ‘the tree declared, rain running off her gum leaves like tears. ‘How can I share your pain?’

The pole panted but did not reply.

‘Please talk to me, dear neighbour’, continued the tree, ‘let me help …’

‘I thirst,’ the pole whispered. ‘But it’s too dangerous.’

‘What is too dangerous?’

‘The rain always runs off my body,’ he explained. ‘I have no branches and no leaves to capture it.’

‘But what about the cables and the beam that holds them up there?’

‘They are not my body. They will never be part of my body. They are bolted to me, but they are not me.’

‘So how can I quench your thirst?’

‘There are cracks in my body that lead to my spine. The water runs down but never soaks in. My skin is parched with cracks. They are wounds from the electricity burns where the remains of my flesh have been torn open. Do you think you could fill your leaves with rain water, swing your branches and help me drink, through my cracks – just this once?’

‘Well I could try …’

‘But it’s dangerous,’ the pole warned. ‘You are made of wood and water. The electricity can run right through you.’

‘The same with you, right?’ asked the tree.

‘No. I have more than wood and water. I also have metal bolts and carry a much heavier burden of electricity. If the lightning strikes when you touch me with water, you could carry all my electricity on top of yours.’

‘And so what if I do?’

‘It could kill you. It could burn your roots and leaves.’

‘And then what?’

‘And then?’ the pole pondered. ‘Then you could become like me.’

The tree paused then surprised the pole. ‘And then what?’

The pole was shocked. ‘You would risk all this, all your beautiful life, for me?’

‘Well, what is a dear neighbour for?’

‘No!’ the pole realised the enormity of the sacrifice. ‘I am sorry I even said that. It’s wrong. It’s unfair. It’s cruel.’

‘And so is what happened to you, dear neighbour,’ snapped the tree.

‘So … you will risk everything, just to quench my thirst, once?’

‘Well, I could have grown straight and risked everything? But I was spared your fate. I did nothing right. You did nothing wrong. Right?’

‘But you are so … beautiful.’

‘You were a tree like me once, remember?’

‘But you have humans who love you, and care for you, and take shelter beneath you …’

‘Maybe we need just one tree to die so we could save the lives of others.’

‘How?’ asked the pole.

‘If something happens to me, it will be for all the world to see … how dangerous this all is. Maybe they will learn to stop stripping trees like you, and put their cables somewhere else.’

‘No!’ the pole was mortified at the offer. ‘Please don’t!’

‘You can’t stop me, dear neighbour,’ insisted the tree. ‘It’s my choice.’

The tree deliberately waited for the next flash of lightning. She swayed her boughs, filled her leaves with the pouring rain, and positioned herself next to the cracks in his skin. When she felt that lightning was imminent, she watered his skin and soothed his burns.

When the lightning struck, they screamed together. She lit up like a Christmas tree. Some of her branches became instantly charred and came crashing to the ground with a thud that shook the house.

The residents flicked on their lights to see the source of the noise. Then they had a black out and panic ensued.

There were flashes of camera photography as the residents were in awe of this spectacle. The tree was now on fire. It could soon become charcoal.

The pole now had a different thirst. He wanted to know where this profound self-sacrifices had come from.

He took his dear neighbour’s advice, in her honour, and did his best to pass on this story through his cables, as a telegraph to all the power poles, for as far as the eye could see.

‘Tell the trees of her sacrifice,’ he messaged in his own way. ‘If they follow her, we may stop the crucifixions!’

The crackling crowns were drowned out by the wailing sirens of fire trucks racing towards the burning tree. They were followed by news media, hot on the trail of a good story.

The picture of a tree embracing a pole sparked much speculation.

The question was not whether the tree and the pole could speak. The question was whether the humans would listen.

23/09/201824/09/2018

Peter’s First Miracle

PETER’S FIRST MIRACLE: A meditation on Matthew 14, by Joseph Wakim

It was dusk. Jesus had just fed the multitudes with loaves and fishes. He asked his apostles for some time alone to grieve the beheading of his cousin John. He instructed them to take the boat and wait for him on the other side of the Sea of Galilee.

As night fell, Jesus prayed alone on the mountain while wild winds struck the sea. The apostles in their boats were being tossed about in the middle of the sea and could not reach the other side. They could not row forwards because it was contrary to the oncoming wind, and they could not row back because it was contrary to his instructions.
What if he was already on the other side and waiting for them?

The apostles had just witnessed another miracle and knew that he was supernatural. But this wild storm on this dark night did not bode well. They were languishing in the middle of the sea, languishing between the natural and the supernatural, languishing between faith and fear.

If he was the son of God, how could he abandon them like this? Did he not know that their lives were in peril and that they could all drown at sea?

Then, through the darkness the apostles saw what looked like a radiant Jesus walking towards them on the water. They were petrified and thought this was a ghost. Jesus knew exactly what they were feeling in their hearts and called out, ‘Yes it is I! Be not afraid!’

Peter, the most experienced fisherman among them, dropped the oars of the boat, and responded to Jesus, ‘If it is really you, call out my name! Tell me that I can walk on water, like you. Then I will obey!’

The other apostles could not believe that Peter was prepared to abandon them. He had surrendered the steering of the perilous boat and pledged to surrender his life to Jesus, here and now.

‘Come, Peter!’ beckoned Jesus, with an outstretched hand.

‘He called me by my name!’ pondered Peter. ‘It is the Lord and I will go to him now!’

Fixing his gaze on the outstretched hand of Jesus, Peter stripped off his outer garments and stepped off the boat, onto the stormy sea. The apostles looked on in astonishment at his courage and his unquestioning faith.
In the chaos they wondered – why not wait for Jesus to reach the boat? Why not row the boat to Jesus? Why was Peter taking this literal leap of faith to go to Jesus?

Peter took his first step, fixing his gaze on Jesus. He was now oblivious to the wild weather and to the waves that were as tall as he.
He took his second step, advancing closer to Jesus. Both his senses and his common sense were overridden by his rock solid faith. He hardly blinked as he could now almost see the saturated face of Jesus.
He took the third step, and could now see the smile on the face of Jesus. He could hear Jesus encouraging him, ‘You’re doing it Peter! This is walking by faith!’
Jesus opened his outstretched hand and Peter was exuberant. They were both glowing.

Peter took his fourth step. A wave washed over him like a slap in the face.
He blinked. His senses were alerted. He glanced down and could see his feet were floating on water. His skin could feel the water dripping off his body. His ears could hear the wild wind whistling all around him. His lips could taste the salty spray that surrounded him. He could smell his own fear welling up inside him as he came to his senses.
He was defying the natural laws, and his fear was now defying his faith.

He took his fifth step, but his right foot submerged under the water. He panicked and glanced up to find Jesus, who was now obscured by the waves. He wiped his eyes and called, ’Where have you gone, Lord? I can’t see you anymore!’
He took his sixth step, with his left foot, and it too sank into the water. His eyes were now fixed on his sinking feet. He was losing his balance and his bearings. He waved his arms and cried out, ’Lord! I am drowning! Save me!’
Peter had fallen knee-deep. Not only was his body sinking, but his heart was too. He lost his compass to Jesus and became disoriented. He could no longer see the boat, nor Jesus, nor any shore.

He took his seventh step, under water, only to sink deeper. Even his knees had disappeared. Another wave washed over him and he was now panicking about drowning. He saw his life flash past him. He felt that no one could hear his calls, as he could not hear his own voice over the roaring storm.
‘Lord, I can’t see your face! I can’t hear your voice! I can’t feel your hand! I can’t sense your presence!’ he despaired. ‘What have I done to deserve this, Lord?’

He took his eighth step, kicking frantically, deeper under water, and felt his body descending to his waist. Now everything was going dark.
With all the strength he could muster, he closed his eyes and cried out in his trembling voice, ‘Lord, save me!’
He felt a firm hand grasp his own. He opened his eyes and looked up. Through the water, he could see the radiant face of Jesus gazing down on him. Peter used both hands to raise himself up to embrace Jesus.
‘Lord, where did you go?’ Peter pleaded. ‘I was looking for you everywhere!’ His salty tears were washed away by the salty sea.

He took his ninth step, this time on top of the water, fixing his gaze firmly on the face of Jesus.
‘Peter’, replied Jesus, ‘where did you go? You took your eyes off my face, and looked down at your feet’. Now Peter dared not blink.
‘But I could not see you when the waves…’ began Peter to justify himself. Jesus shook his head and smiled, ‘But I could see you. When you called my name, did I not raise you up?’
Peter took his tenth and final step, with Jesus, this time onto the boat. The storm subsided and the wind became calm. The trembling apostles could no longer stand. They fell to their knees before Jesus and declared, ‘truly, you are the Son of God!’
Then Peter cried out, shivering and kissing the feet of Jesus, ‘Sorry Lord … I was … afraid…’
Jesus placed his hand on Peter’s head and said, ‘I know your heart. You doubted. Let your faith stand tall. It will drown your fear’.

At dawn, their boat reached the other side of the sea.

Their journey, and indeed ours, is a turbulent test of faith. We yearn for the hand, the voice and face of Jesus, especially in the stormy sea, and he may be obscured by crashing and cruel waves. But he is there, floating not sinking, waiting not forsaking, beckoning us by name, inviting us to the banquet on the other side, transcending all the laws of nature, which he himself created.

This was Peter’s first miracle, the stations of his first cross.
And more miracles are promised when we walk by faith, nor by sight.
Like Peter, we will greet Jesus without our outer garments, without our boat, without our kin. Alone, we will face the radiant light of love who is brighter than the lightning of any storm that passes on our way to the other side of the sea.

10/12/2015

The Koranic verses are not negotiable

http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/opinion/the-koranic-verses-are-non-negotiable/story-fni0cwl5-1227639731821

http://bit.ly/1RFEkEI

The Daily Telegraph

December 10, 2015

RECENT calls for a reformation of Islam, akin to what happened with Christianity in 16th century Europe, are all very well. But the suggestion has a fundamental flaw which goes to the nature of the Koran.

When Tony Abbott calls for a religious revolution to confront the ‘‘problem within Islam’’, this implies that something may be rotten within the Koran itself. Such an ‘‘honest debate’’ would be fruitless because the sanctity of the verses are non-negotiable.

The Christian Gospels were written up to four decades after the crucifixion of Jesus by his eyewitness disciples, based on their repeated recollections of his words and deeds.

However, the Koran is believed to be the actual words of God as revealed and recited as verses through archangel Gabriel to his messenger Mohammad, in the Arabic language, without translation, without interpretation. Hence, there is no wriggle room to argue that “what God really meant was this”.

Unlike the Gospels which were enriched by parables about the New Testament of love and forgiveness, the Koran is a thorough prescription that governs virtually every aspect of life from birth to death. It leaves little room for modernisation and adaptation.

What can be debated, though, is the man-made implementation of the words, especially regarding the true meaning of jihad, purity and cleansing in the context of ISIS propaganda.

The Christian Reformation was successful in redistribution of power in hierarchical churches and stamping out abuses of power such as “indulgences”.

But it did not seek to flush out any words in the Scriptures. On the contrary, Martin Luther translated the Bible so that it was more accessible to more people. Some speak of reform when what they really seek is an audit of all the verses that ISIS misuse as a pretext to “justify’’ violence. If that is what they want, then they should just say so, but be prepared to at least read the entire Koran first.

Some have even sought to expunge all the verses that promote violence and contradict the premise that Islam is a religion of peace.

Ironically, this is what ISIS purports to be offering — a revolution to the purist version with literalist interpretations.

But this version is fraught with contradictions as bearded old men seduce boys to perform suicidal terrorism, acts that the bearded old men are not prepared to commit, but expect the boys to believe in the hedonistic rewards that await martyrs in paradise.

If what Tony Abbott seeks is an audit of the ideas driving extremism, this requires policing of Imams and cyberspace, and he should know that this is what our intelligence authorities already do.

If the intention is to have an honest debate, he may be wiser to learn from his successor Malcolm Turnbull who recognised that ISIS leaders “defame and blaspheme Islam”.

An honest debate would also open up questions of double standards. For example, as the far right voices such as

Reclaim Australia and Rise Up Australia morph from cyberspace and coalesce as street protests, do we ask white leaders: what causes radicalisation and violent extremism in your culture? With the abuses of power revealed by the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse, do we ask respective religious leaders to confront theological problems within their scriptures?

If anyone seeks to understand the contents and ideas within the Koran, then they should seek an open meeting with the Australian National Imams Council.

If Abbott is seeking to add an intelligent political voice to the anti-Muslim ‘‘crusade’’, then he needs to be offering more than this red herring.

06/08/2015

Faith During War

FAITH DURING WAR

Sunday Age, 6/8/06

It was like a scene out of Life is Beautiful – the 1997 movie that earned Roberto Benigni an Oscar for portraying a Jewish father buffering his child during the holocaust.

From the 1500 meter altitude above the clouds, just below the village of Ehden in North Lebanon, my child and I gazed down at Tripoli. When the clouds rolled into Ehden, the only visible landmark was the nearby antenna at the peak of Mount Aito.

The juxtaposition of the spectacular sunset over the Mediterranean Sea was an awesome sight to behold, conjuring up images of Creation. Indeed, Ehden was named after Eden, where Adam and Eve lived, according to Lebanon’s prospective next saint, 17^th century Patriarch and historian Istfan Doueihi.

“Is that a thunderstorm in the clouds?” asked my child, pointing to sudden explosions and reflections of light near the Tripoli sunset. Keen to avoid conjuring the bloody scenes on television, I explained that the amazing lights were fireworks from celebrations such as weddings. But I could hear warplanes humming high overhead and knew exactly what they were doing.

When we went to farewell our relatives down the street, we were reassured by repeated claims that Ehden was immune from bombings, and that our relatives would remain safe. Within minutes of entering their house full of young children, the first missile had struck the nearby hilltop antenna and broadcast station at Mount Aito.

In the multi-storey building and throughout the street, only two words were louder than the deafening thunder of the explosions: faith and family. The origin, purpose, frequency, proximity and precision of the bombing were simply irrelevant to those around us. Indeed, the echo of the impact was disorienting and we had no idea which direction and which hilltop was hit.

Children’s faces became pale, mothers were hyperventilating, some startled from their summer siesta, some rushing out of showers dumb-founded, others running like ants from a destroyed molehill. Indeed, this is how it must appear to the boys with the toys above.

We saw young and old in neighbouring homes fleeing to lay hands and eyes on their family, as if this was the Last Book of the Bible.

When the second bomb hit, the families huddled together with terror filled eyes. All previous promises about safety and my tales about fireworks were now bombed like the landmark antenna. The sky that had been a source of inspiration and beauty was now the source of terror. It was now raining down not with life-giving water but life-taking fire. The place that was renown for Creation and the Beginning was now tainted with destruction and the end.

Those who could not reach their family members fell collectively to their knees and commenced the rosary. I had never seen children pray so intensely, clinging to whatever sacred relics, crucifixes or saint icons they could reach. Cell phones were now out of order so rosaries became the hotline to heaven.

Beyond the hills, the antennas, the planes and the skies, innocent families fled to their faith, as the only source that was higher, literally and figuratively. All the psychological skills I could muster to calm their spirits had paled into insignificance when I witnessed the power of prayer, and the visible effect on their faces.

15/07/2015

The Church Should Untangle Civil from Sacred ‘Marriage’

http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2015/07/14/4273269.htm

ABC Religion and Ethics 14 Jul 2015

The church must distinguish what belongs to Caesar from what belongs to God. If the church is no longer wedded to the word ‘marriage’, it will have nothing to lose if and when the civil law changes.

“Don’t mess with marriage” was in my face when I reached for the parish newsletter at last Sunday’s mass. Before I turned the page of this pastoral letter from the Catholic Bishops of Australia, there was already a problem: the mess predates this “same-sex marriage debate.”

Our church has never had a monopoly on the meaning of marriage – an institution that existed long before Christianity. Marriage was never ours to begin with and has been continually re-defined throughout history by many institutions, including the church itself.

If the “faithful” relinquish the word marriage and give it back to secular society, religious institutions could dust off and reinstate the holy sacrament of matrimony, with all the sacred implications.

When I was a child, Easter Sunday was used in church to mark the most definitive day on the Christian calendar. As we learned that Easter derives from the Saxon goddess of Spring, Eostre, one of many pagan notions adopted into church traditions, my parish now calls it Resurrection Sunday – and rightly so. Eostre was the goddess of fertility, hence the association with the bunny. This revolution away from borrowed names to reinstate the original event helps untangle history.

It was only 500 years ago, at the Council of Trent in 1563, when marriage was officially deemed as one of the seven sacraments. Long before marriage was adopted as a sacrament, it was a strategic alliance between families for economic reasons or class reasons, often arranged by parents. Love and offspring were secondary.

As I read the pastoral letter, I cringed at the timing of our faithful assuming the moral high ground and pontificating about sex while harrowing revelations continue in the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse. While the churches have a legitimate role to contribute to moral debates, why does the Catholic church appear to do most of the heavy lifting whenever this debate rages in Australia? After all, synagogues and mosques also profess the sanctity of a heterosexual marriage, but we do not see such public protests from rabbis and imams.

The pastoral letter defines marriage as a covenant that is “open to the procreation of children,” which is problematic for couples who choose not to have children. Last Sunday’s homily reminded me that family is a “holy” trinity between father, mother and child(ren).

The pastoral letter explains its central concerns about children, not because of the same-sex “parents” per se, but because of the church’s fundamental teachings on surrogacy, IVF and “the lure of the technology of artificial insemination.”

Australian census data attests that the institution and sanctity of marriage has been continually evolving and indeed eroding for decades. Popular culture and television programs have redefined marriage as a competition for of vanity, originality and fashion. The sacrament and “holy trinity” rarely enters into the equation when scoring points over wedding dresses, decor, catering and music to win the luxury honeymoon prize.

I was affronted by the pastoral letter asserting that “mothering and fathering are distinctly different” and that absence of a mother or father may “impede child development.” As a widowed father of three children, I can testify that it is the quality of parenting rather than the (in)equality of gender that most influences the child’s development.

Soon after my wife died, our parish priest gave me the classic Rembrandt painting, The Return of the Prodigal Son, and pointed out that the father figure had both paternal and maternal features. This image has been displayed in many confession boxes (sacrament of reconciliation) and reminds us that we are all wired to fulfil dual roles. I think it is more nurture (culture) than nature that leads to these gender distinctions.

The most compelling arguments in the pastoral letter pertain to the rights of children, especially to know their right to know their biological parents. Although the “consequences of redefining marriage” examples in the pastoral letter may be perceived as scaremongering, Australia needs safeguards to prevent these anomalies and protect the religious institutions and private institutions.

Exclusion clauses need to be enshrined for ancillary services such as cake bakers, hotels, photographers and clergy who refuse to extend their services to same-sex couples, in “good faith.” Otherwise, we run the risk of replacing one form of discrimination against same-sex couples with another form of discrimination against those who refuse to recognise the couples as married.

If the opening slogan is “Don’t mess with marriage,” the closing slogan may as well read, “What next – polygamy?” And it is indeed these examples of state-sponsored punishment that need to be placated if the civil law changes are to retain a civil society.

Yes, the religious institutions cannot impose their sacred definition of marriage onto civil society, but in turn civil society cannot impose its redefinition onto religious institutions. That would be inequality.
We can discern what belongs to Caesar (civil society) from what belongs to God (sacred society). If we in the church faithful are no longer “wedded” to the word marriage, we have nothing to lose if and when the civil law changes.

13/09/2014

Muslim, Christian clergy condemn terrorism

https://au.news.yahoo.com/a/24969401/muslim-christian-clergy-condemn-terrorism/

Muslim, Christian clergy condemn terrorism

Ehssan VeiszadehSeptember 11, 2014, 7:16 pm

Senior Muslim and Christian leaders have condemned the sectarian bloodshed in the Middle East and vowed to uphold Australia’s security.

Grand Mufti Dr Ibrahim Abu Mohamed, head of the Chaldean Catholic community Archbishop Gabriel Kassab and six other religious leaders released a joint statement denouncing all forms of “violence, sectarian discrimination and terrorism, especially in Iraq and the Middle East”.

“We stand in solidarity with the displaced families in the region who have every right to live free from fear, and we pledge any support that eases their hardship,” the statement said on Thursday.

The leaders also pledged to “uphold the safety of our homeland Australia and Australian people”.

“This is an integral part of our divine teachings,” the statement said.

“We affirm our commitment to continue this solidarity and maintain open lines of communication with each other and with the Australian government.”

Joseph Wakim, of Arab Council Australia, commended the religious leaders for speaking out against violent extremism abroad.

“What they’re trying to make sure is that it doesn’t come home to Australia,” he told AAP.

“They’re really trying to buffer it by saying to all these angry youths who are out there trying to take the law into their own hands that they don’t have any sort of blessing (from their religious leaders).”

The statement comes amid a federal government push to tighten counter-terrorism measures.

The Abbott government says it is concerned that dozens of Australians who are fighting in Syria and Iraq might bring their extreme ideologies back home.

02/09/2014

Plenty of smoke but little fire in Tony Abbott’s concerns over Muslim radicals

http://m.theage.com.au/comment/plenty-of-smoke-but-little-fire-in-tony-abbotts-concerns-over-muslim-radicals-20140901-10ay16.html

http://bit.ly/1B8AlGQ

Published in The Age, 2 September 2014

The Islamic State is emerging as a political movement.

The Prime Minister should be a beacon leading us out of the terrorism smoke, not fanning the flames.

Mr Abbott’s announcement that $13.4 million will be earmarked to “support community efforts to prevent young Australians being radicalised” is fraught with contradictions.

How can one allocate money to a “community” solution before we have any evidence-based research on the cause? There is no singular definable career path or pathology for the radicalised terrorist. Some are educated professionals who are drawn to ideology of a pure Islamic caliphate. Others are disenfranchised and unemployed, angry at their lack of belonging. Whether it is the pull or push factor, the allure of power and making history is a magnet for some.

The compounding factors may be idiosyncratic to the individual, compounded by their selected peers or by their selected social media. There is no evidence that the family or the “community” sanctions or supports this pathway to violent extremism. When discovered, these individuals appear to be leading a double life.

If “community” refers to Islamic organisations and mosques, they are rarely on the radar or habitat of these recluses. When was a radicalised jihadist recognised as a regular at a youth centre? These marginalised individuals appear to shy away from these “mainstream” professional agencies that encourage education and employment. Throwing the solution at the feet of Muslim community leaders implies that they are part of the problem.

While Mr Abbott is at pains to point out that his measures “are not directed against any particular community or religion”, this is refuted by his recent round of Muslim meetings. The leaders that the Prime Minister “consulted” last week while trying to sell his anti-terror reforms are the respectable officials and unlikely to be “consulted” by the radicalised jihadists.

The Attorney-General’s Living Safe Together website affirms that “there is not just one path to violent extremism”, and that “extremists exploit social and economic conditions, and individual vulnerabilities to recruit and motivate others”. However, it also affirms that “many projects are already under way across Australia under the Building Community Resilience Grants and Youth Mentoring Grants Programs”. This begs the question: has Mr Abbott announced a continuation of an existing funding?

Mr Abbott claims that “the best defence against radicalisation is through well-informed . . . local engagement”. But his concerns about returning radicalised extremists becoming “involved in terrorist activity here” may be ill-informed. ISIS is not al-Qaeda. The Islamic State is emerging as a political movement that is founded on reclaiming and expanding its own territory, commencing with Iraq and Syria.

Their enemies are infidels in their caliphate who refuse to swear allegiance to caliph Abu-Bakr al Baghdadi. Their ethnic cleansing is driven by a sense of victimisation and vengeance. As confirmed by many “rear-view mirror” empirical studies on the radicalisation process, angry political views are the prerequisite, not religious intolerance.

Unlike al-Qaeda, which launched attacks on foreign soil, this offshoot recruits fighters for its own soil. There has been no official escalation of Australia’s “medium” risk of terrorist threat since 2003. Despite this unchanged risk assessment, Mr Abbott heightens the media hype by referring to what “we have seen on our TV screens and on the front pages of our newspapers”.

If one listens to the propaganda of the travelling circus that recruits youth into the Islamic State, they are replete with references to western racism and hypocrisy.

If Mr Abbott is serious about “activities to better understand and address radicalisation”, the onus cannot be left at the feet of the “community”. Ironically, the double speak in his announcement has already fed conspiracy theories that Muslims are being targeted, yet again. The differential treatment of Australians in the Israeli Defence Forces, which have killed over 2000 Palestinians in Gaza, remain a bone of contention for many who see all killing of civilians as immoral, regardless of uniform or citizenship. The maps of Sydney CBD seized inside a “bomb-making” house in Brisbane failed to attract the usual terrorist headlines, perhaps because the suspect was not from the Middle East.

Even “moderate” Muslims have been angered by Mr Abbott’s recent ultimatum that “you don’t migrate to this country unless you want to join our team”, especially given that near half of the Muslim population was Australian-born.

Repeated references to “Team Australia” reduce these issues to a sport where the non-players are rendered non-Australian. Mr Abbott may be wise to play down the politics of fear by stating “if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear”.

The hype around home-grown radicals planting bombs is real, and has been spurred by the free publicity given to Islamic State scaremongering. But planting the solution at the feet of the community is not realistic.

They need to be coupled with government efforts to stop the divisive language and foreign policies that cause the very radicalisation that the Prime Minister is ostensibly diffusing.

20/02/2014

Rabbi or imam, a threat is still a threat

http://bit.ly/1gk86tz

http://www.adelaidenow.com.au/news/opinion/joseph-wakim-rabbi-or-imam-a-threat-is-still-a-threat/story-fni6unxq-1226833133261

The Advertiser
20 February 2014

“BY the power of our Holy Torah, we admonish you to cease immediately all efforts to achieve these disastrous agreements, in order to avoid severe heavenly punishment for everyone involved.”

In an open letter to US Secretary of State John Kerry, this wrath formed part of a recent statement by Rabbis from the Committee to Save the Land and People of Israel and “hundreds of other Rabbis in Israel and around the world”.

The rabbis were incensed by Kerry’s mediation between Israeli and Palestinian negotiators.

Their statement did not register on our media radar, as such ultra-orthodox voices are treated as atypical of mainstream Israeli society. If the word Torah is replaced by Koran in this statement, the words severe, punishment and everyone suddenly read as a global fatwa.

These rabbis attribute terrorism exclusively to their enemy as they proclaim that Kerry’s “incessant efforts to expropriate integral parts of our Holy Land and hand them over to Abbas’s terrorist gang amount to a declaration of war against the Creator and Ruler of the universe”.

This war-speak reaches the same pitch as their Muslim counterparts who purport to speak for the same deity.
But it is a fallacy to assume that only Muslims execute such threats and take the divine law into their own hands.

In 1994, Baruch Goldstein massacred 29 Palestinian worshippers at a Hebron mosque. He belonged to the Jewish Defence League, which the FBI later classified as a “far right terrorist group”.

He was publicly denounced by mainstream Jewish bodies as a lone madman and an extremist, yet over 10,000 sympathisers visited and venerated his “holy” shrine until it was forcibly removed by the government in 1999.

The growing influence of the 10 per cent of ultra-Orthodox citizens within Israel’s population of eight million continues to create a sectarian-secular divide.

While they may not resort to street violence like Palestinian stone-throwers, they flex their political muscle with violent decisions that suffocate Gazans, expand settlements and segregate the West Bank.

In Australia, the growth of the Muslim presence has seen a growth in Islamophobia. Too often, the extreme actions of an extreme minority are treated as typical and therefore stereotypical.

When the abhorrent placard at a 2012 Sydney rally screamed ‘‘Behead all those who insult the prophet’’, Australians screamed even louder with outrage.

Those responsible for this message were swiftly condemned and written off as unrepresentative by Muslim elders. But the mud stuck on the Muslim name.

When the abhorrent YouTube video by Sheikh Sharif Hussein was falsely attributed to the Islamic Da’wah Centre of South Australia in August 2013, again the elders tried to extinguish the local backlash and gross generalisations.

His “sermon” labelled Australian soldiers in Iraq as ‘‘crusader pigs’’ and beseeched Allah to kill Buddhists and Hindus who have harmed Muslims.

More than anyone, Israelis should understand that hate speech is the ominous precursor to violence, especially when coupled with real power and weapons.

The violent voices of these rabbis deserve the same amplification and accountability as their Muslim counterparts. We cannot keep marginalising them as extremists who don’t count.
They do count, and so will their victims.

Joseph Wakim is the founder of the Australian Arabic Council and author of Sorry we have no space

20/02/2014

Christmas is the critical time to reach out to lonely hearts, especially those close to home

http://www.adelaidenow.com.au/news/opinion/joseph-wakim-christmas-the-critical-time-to-reach-out-to-lonely-hearts-especially-those-close-to-home/story-fni6unxq-1226789051420

http://bit.ly/1gSTaXf

Christmas is the critical time to reach out to lonely hearts, especially those close to home
The Advertiser, 24 December 2013

The countdown to Christmas is a critical time to reach out to the lonely hearts, especially those close to home. Source: Supplied

As the twinkling gaze of children turns to the North Pole to fulfil their wishes, there is an icy gaze by those who feel poles apart from this love and warmth.
Indeed, the Christmas season can be the most polarising time of the year.

For those who lack this love, it is the time when being the ”have nots” is most in their face. The glow of the nativity scene is lost on them, as they feel that there is no room for them at any inn, not even their own. Sadly, many are tipped over the edge as the pain of loneliness or loss becomes too unbearable.

As families congregate around carols and trees, and the aerial view of society resembles many rotating wheels, those who have fallen off the wheels become the loneliest dots. They seek to be understood, not to understand; to be listened to, not to be lectured. And they may be closer to home than the homeless people.

One can be lonely without being alone. Ironically, the annual celebration of the birth of the messiah could also be the time of pondering the end of a life.

Suicidal Christmas may seem like an oxymoron, but for those involved in its prevention, it is a fatal combination.

It is a time when one can hear one’s own heartbeat pounding in one’s head, and the ears ringing like sirens, and one’s life flash past. The rest of the world seems so caught up in expressions of love that they are oblivious to these ticking time bombs.

And when it tragically happens, there is gnashing of teeth, and a slow motion rewind of all the clues that were missed. The blame game can create lifelong ripple effects and survivor guilt.
When I worked with “street kids”, I struggled to understand why they could still take their own lives regardless of how much unconditional love we showered upon them.

“Do you really want to die or do you want the pain to go away?”
That hole in the heart cannot be healed by outsiders; they had to love themselves. Receiving love from others was not the suicide bulwark.

At the funerals, loved ones struggle to find peace. They try to answer one question: Why?

The countdown to Christmas is a critical time to reach out to the lonely hearts, especially those close to home. As we accelerate towards our self-imposed deadlines, we may speed past some subtle cries for help.

A person who suddenly decides to visit relatives and thank them for nostalgic childhood memories may be applauded with, “he is finally learning to show respect for her elders – isn’t this wonderful?” But he was actually preparing his farewells.

A person who stops going out with friends at night and instead withdraws to his bedroom may be applauded with, “finally he has outgrown that dangerous stage and stopped wasting money with late nights – isn’t it wonderful that he now stays at home with his family?” But he was actually starting to close in on himself.

A person who starts to give away personal and favourite belongings to others may be applauded with, “he takes after his father – isn’t this wonderful that he has become so generous?” But he was actually parting from all worldly possessions.

A person who declares his unconditional love may be applauded with, “he will grow up to be a fine man who is not afraid to express emotions”. But he was actually saying goodbye.

This Christmas, we can give the gift of saving a life, by giving presence rather than presents. It is indeed the gift of giving, even in the simplest abode, that was celebrated in the first Christmas.

We can try to make lonely people feel loved, and hopefully that they deserve to be loved. It is at this polarising time that they may most need to believe in another miracle: that they are worthy of our time, and worthy of self-love.

Joseph Wakim is a former Multicultural Affairs Commissioner and author of Sorry, We Have No Space.

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