It was while enroute to Peru that I finally saw the recent Jack Nicholson movie, The Bucket List, so titled in reference to a list of experiences Edward Cole (Nicholson) and fellow cancer patient, Carter Chambers, (Morgan Freeman), wish to enjoy before the cancer claims their lives. This concept fits well with the many, many books of lists currently being published with films to see, books to read, roads to walk, countries to visit before you die. Maccu Pichu, the fabled Incan stronghold high in the Andes in Peru, is a destination which regularly features in such lists. So while I trudged up the ancient Incan paths, I idly pondered the relevance of lists of things to do, and whether experiencing wonders such as Maccu Pichu is indeed a relevant life challenge or goal – or whether we are all focusing on lists way too much.

I can’t pretend to be able to offer any earth-shattering wisdom or insight, just the following very personal conclusions – to be taken or left as you wish.

The movie called The Bucket List was a great concept, poorly executed. We see two men who are (supposedly) dying of cancer racing around the world, sky diving and drag car racing, with nary a side effect in sight. Pure Hollywood, and perhaps rather offensive to those who have known and experienced the reality of cancer. Some items on their list may be meaningful, but most offer an excuse for a very materialistic view of what we might want to do before we die, and an excuse for a very Hollywood five-star jaunt around the world in luxury jets and high rise hotels.

Yes, adults of a certain age become much more aware of their mortality and try to sort their priorities as they get older. But hopefully, for most of us, money becomes less important, as long as we have enough to eat and a decent roof above our heads. If our travel has to be five-star then we will never connect in a meaningful way with 95% of our fellow planet dwellers – and our perspective will be shockingly narrow. And whilst travel is a thrill and a privilege for most of us, it is usually in our own backyards that the real meaning of life exists – with family, friends, neighbours and pets.

So yes, let’s all keep lists of amazing challenges to spur us forward, but let’s also remember that we don’t have to leave home to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the precious gift of life.

For those who’d like to learn more about The Bucket List, visit this site for a trailer.

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Geoff’s Blog - Render to Caesar

Inevitably, the reality of how a government feels about itself and it budget shows. Not in the following day’s press, not in the television commentary, not even in the sales pitch which is massively conducted after delivery, but during the opposition’s reply speech.

It will be impossible to get a replay, but my memory of it is reasonably clear. Here is a government which considers itself effectively without opposition. The Treasurer relaxed and with a smirk that even the previous treasurer could not match even in his smirkiest days. The Finance Minister chatting away to an associate as if there was no speech going on.

And, for the first time, I glimpsed the inner soul of the prime minister through his body language and expression. All that was missing was a toga and a crown wreath. Caesar at his most remote. Slumped in his chair. Face immovable. Eyes fixed elsewhere and his mind asking him the question, “Do I really have to be here? Oh well, I’d better go through the motions!” The language on non-involvement was palpable, the indifference to an alternative view was fully on show.

As I sat there, having digested the social engineering of the budget which included the studied ignorance and neglect of retirees and carers- previous and present contributors to the marvelously rich society which the government is now meant to serve, I was tempted to commence all the possible avoidance action possible in my next return to this Caesar.

Which would put me at odds with the parable teacher, who when challenged about the level of financial commitment he and his followers should have to a hostle occupying power, uttered (unfortunately for me) the lingering words,” Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God, the things that are God’s.”

So now I am stuck. I have two obligations. One is clear. The Tax Commissioner and Treasurer get their take. The other is not so clear.
And what about me? I’m not even mentioned.  What does “render to God”
mean?

When I was three, my parents dropped me off at St Luke’s Narrabeen for Sunday School. I remember it as a typical pew layout church. The collection would take place. I had been given a penny. Into the brass plate it would go. The brass plate would then be marched down the aisle and given to the minister. He would then face the altar and lift the plate above his head as he intoned the prayer. For the life of me, as I strained around the end of the pew or stood on it week after week, I could not see the money rising up. Yet I heard the prayer asking God to take this money for His work.

Trying to sort this out, I’m not sure that I’ve grown up at all from there.  The rule for a God follower pre-Christ was a tenth of gross income and then some more on occasion, plus some specials for the poor.
And, I’m not being deliberately evasive now, but our modern Caesar has taken over some of that, but cut it back in this budget.  So what is my financial responsibility towards God as my personal economy tightens and Caesar becomes more demanding? And what of me?

The ancients gave their tenth to The Temple and its operations. Today, it needs to be considered carefully. Why today, give to support a moribund, irrelevant “Temple” structure which has lost its way? Equally, why give to get-rich slick televangelists in order to get a tacky lion statue by return together with a future lifetime of pleading Junk Mail for your trouble?

The God response should not be a puzzle.” Love your neighbor as you love yourself”. Walk through today alert to the possibility that someone near and visible may need my physical help and some cash. As well as the invisible children of Africa or Asia. As I can, and not beyond my capability, be generous and look after them. In doing this I am giving balance and meaning to both Caesar and to God.

And of me? The inherent promise of the parable teacher was that in doing this I could trust God forso it would be given to me. Surprisingly, unexpectedly and generously.

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