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As the sun casts a picturesque glow on Melbourne, tragedy strikes Kiev, prompting us to reflect on our shared humanity. Simultaneous events pose a crucial question: are we responsible for those far away in time and space? And if so, how do we respond?
In a recent meeting Pope Francis met the editors of European Jesuit cultural magazines. As usual in such meetings he did not give an address but invited the participants to ask questions. The questions ranged across a wide area, reflecting the different readership and religious culture of the magazines. Underlying the Pope’s responses lay a challenging and coherent approach to the Jesuit mission and to communication that invites self-reflection also among Jesuit magazines and their readers outside Europe.
We have a lot of work to do if there is to be any prospect of a successful referendum on the Voice to Parliament, which Indigenous people have put to us as the mode by which they want to be recognised in the Constitution. They have said they want a Voice. Now, we can debate whether it be a Voice to Parliament or a Voice to Parliament and government, or a Voice just about particular laws.
Sometimes it pays to sit still in a central business district, the aorta of any city, and nod in recognition to life as it passes you by. Bypassed from the stream, you watch and learn as the passers-by flow around you. Mystery and revelation. Connection and dissing. Peace and discord. Meaning, transcendence and futile, random pain. It’s all there if you look close enough. Pause long enough to witness the mysteries.
Along the tree lined rural highway / past paddocks where canola gleams / so cars stop for golden photographs / past paddocks where sheep graze / then clumps of darker remnant eucalypts / distant hills wear dancing patches of colour.
With the likes of David Beckham and Tim Cahill openly supporting the FIFA Men's World Cup in Qatar next month, what of those troubled sporting figures wishing to take an ethical, moral stand against a tournament’s organisers? To that end, a new, disingenuous form of protest has emerged, one of virtuous self-promotion that eschews substantive effect.
‘My Island Home’ was first recorded 35 years ago, a song that emerged from a journey and conversation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous voices. It’s helped Australians better understand our home and place in it, and points to the value of enshrining Indigenous voices in our constitution so they can continue to speak to us all.
The shards are earthenware with geometric or figurative coloured patterns. Their cracked glazes and ragged edges echo the outback raw aesthetic, and allude to the ongoing challenging narratives of Broken Hill. Now they are sitting large on my desk claiming a distinctive extraction value from a mining city, and whispering, like books on a homely shelf, an intimate lasting merit.
Joel Birnie’s short and admirable book provokes reflection both on what should have mattered in the relationships between colonial invaders and Indigenous peoples in the nineteenth century and on what matters in the relationships that constitute Australia today.
The Queen’s life of overt public religion — which led her to become perhaps the twentieth century’s greatest Christian evangelist — was grounded in her conviction in the Gospels’ truth. And she interpreted Jesus’ story generously and ecumenically, broadening her role from the narrow Anglican identity of Supreme Governor of the Church of England to become an advocate by example for faiths of every kind.
The Way had been a community of homeless people, built around difficult but wonderful characters. It taught me more than I can easily say. It was a world where things were not always as they seemed and people did not fit into little boxes. We had many challenging days and relationships with our guys were seldom easy, but there was an energy that found light in unexpected places.