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Last year I spent Christmas at St Andrew's. There was incense, holy communion and a whole heap of stuff that would horrify many Sydney Anglicans. Which is their bad luck because this St Andrew's was the Cathedral Church of the Tokyo Diocese of the Nippon Sei Ko Kai. I doubt Henry VIII imagined a diocese with a name like that!
My astute mother was the first to suspect Maggie of taking and selling my clothes to fund her addiction. After that, my friendship with Maggie fell apart. I began to hate her and wanted nothing to do with her. This year, that all suddenly changed.
It is not difficult to imagine a scenario where the game of musical chairs in Australia will come to a shuddering end, imperilling the banks and dragging the economy into a deep recession. As we saw in the GFC in America and Europe, government money will be thrown at the banks to rescue them at the expense of ordinary citizens.
The embroidery on the Gospel stories shows that, like the painter and the refugees treading through the dust and heat of the road to Egypt, God dreams of a peaceful world in which people and nature live at peace, villages are well watered, trees cared for, grapes hang in bunches, refugee children are fed, and angels help make art.
The Society of Jesus in Victoria, Jesuit Communications Christmas Raffle 2017 was drawn on Thursday 7 December 2017 (Permit No 10679/17 issued 29 August 2017) Congratulations to the winners: 1st prize: N. Bangel, NSW; 2nd prize: J. Dunlop, NSW; 3rd prize: C. Townsend, VIC; 4th prize: J. Ryan, NSW. Thank you to everyone who supported our Christmas raffle.
As Barnaby Joyce, standing beside the Prime Minister last Saturday night after his by-election win, proclaimed: 'Running a country is a little harder than running sheep through a gate.' Similarly, Turnbull must find running a party, much less a Coalition of parties, like herding cats.
'The Three Wise Men' was published in the Herald newspaper in 1943. It is set in the jungle of New Guinea, and is about three Australian soldiers called Jack, Bill, and Fred. It is Christmas Eve, and Jack, Bill and Fred are lost 'in the middle of New Guinea in jungle as thick as the hairs on a dog.'
As a conversation opener, it wasn't that flash. I could have told Johnno that stories about the 'bloody banks' are so numerous and predictable that they're being used in sleep clinics. Still, one tries to do the right thing and so, steeling myself, I asked the crucial question. 'What's the story?'
Last Christmas was the first Adam has spent out of jail since the 90s. He hasn't done anything seriously wrong. He belongs to a caste that is as entrenched in Australia as the untouchables in India. One night, a phone message: 'Steve, g'day mate, how are ya, I can't get out of the storage shed.'
As the credits came up, my companion looked at me and said, 'Scary.' I turned from the screen and shook my head. My voice wouldn't quite come. 'Life,' I said. It was the character of Joyce Byers who most captivated me. I, too, have been so anxious that I forgot how I looked to other people.
I said I would be very happy to play second fiddle. I wanted my presence to assist a respectful dialogue. I wanted to make it clear that a thinking and compassionate Catholic could have good reasons for voting yes. I wanted to insist that respect and endorsement of loving same sex relationships did not preclude consideration of issues such as freedom of religion.
On the day of their departure I covered their faces with kisses. A dark cloud seemed to settle. For the last ten years I'd been a mother. What was I without them? My first impulse was to get busy filling my social calendar. But something stopped me. Somehow I knew I was just trying to stave off the inevitable: having to spend time with myself.