Ruth Limkin

Now writing here...

2010-11-08T19:31:00.001+10:00

My writers blog has now been incorporated into my new blog.
Visit me here.
http://breadandjustice.wordpress.com/

Isolation a factor in online affair

2010-07-29T15:52:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 28 July 2010

It’s almost incomprehensible. The recently released results of a new study show that 20% of Australians prefer to miss out on food or heating for a day, rather than lose internet access.

It begs the question – are we a nation of computer geeks or is there something more to our love affair with the internet? After all, doesn’t it seem a bit strange that one in five of us would pass up a goulash in order to google?

It’s almost incomprehensible. Almost, that is, until we realise the way in which the internet affects us, particularly in the case of social networking.

Some early, yet fascinating, results of studies into “neuroeconomics” – which looks at how people make decisions - hint at why we are getting so attached. One reason may be oxytocin, a bonding hormone which produces feelings of contentment, love, affection and calm. Dr Paul Zak, from Claremont Graduate University, has been studying how oxytocin affects consumer behaviour.

In one of Zak’s experiment, the subject had blood samples taken before and after twittering for ten minutes. When both blood samples were compared, it was discovered that the oxytocin levels increased by 13.2% after the online social networking session. Staggeringly, the increase in the hormone was comparable to that of a groom whose blood samples were taken before and after his wedding ceremony.

Conclusive? Not entirely. Interesting? Very!

A further noteworthy result of that study was the corresponding decline of the stress hormones ACTH and cortisol in the subject’s blood. After the twitter session, a decline of 14.9% and 10.8% respectively were recorded.

These results point to a possible cardiovascular health benefit associated with social networking, such as reduced likelihood of stroke and heart attack. Doctor Zak, explaining the results of the study, said “e-connection is processed in the brain like an in-person connection”.

Zak is not alone in advocating the idea that our brains respond to social networking they way they respond to falling in love. Zinc Research founder, Brian Singh, described social networking as “digital oxytocin”.

This could explain why 200 students who were asked to give up all media, including laptops and smartphones, for a day, described their deep angst at "losing their personal connections”. The University of Maryland study found, that in the student’s worlds, “going without media meant going without their friends and family."

It’s little wonder then that so many of us are so loath to disconnect from the web.

We are social beings. Changing lifestyles, busier workplaces, urban sprawl and longer commutes have changed the way we socialise. It’s not unusual for us to have relational connections that don’t correspond with geographical locations. Our villages or tribes have moved online.

As many as one in three Australian’s identify that they are lonely, with incidents of loneliness peaking in their forties. Additionally, the number of lone person households in Australia has virtually doubled from 1971 to 2006, rising from 14% to 27% of all households. Therefore, in 2006, nearly two million adult Australians were living alone. When you walk into to an empty house at the end of the day, social networking is a way to fill the airwaves of your home with friend’s conversations.

Perhaps it seems strange for people to prefer internet access to eating. It’s a luxury to be able to choose of course, but if internet access is our antidote to loneliness, then the reason for the choice becomes clearer.

Mother Theresa said that loneliness, and the feeling of being unwanted, is the most terrible poverty. In a prosperous society, our souls are being starved.

When we consider all of this, the reason that internet access has become such an intrinsic part of our life starts to emerge.

It may just be that our hunger for community outweighs our hunger for food.

Canberra's body image 'tick of approval' a small first step

2010-07-14T15:10:00.001+10:00

Published in The Age on 5 July 2010

Last year, a survey of nearly 48,000 young Australians revealed that a quarter of them identified body image as a major concern. Therefore, the federal government's latest initiative to stop the airbrushed, unrealistic or ultra-thin depiction of women in fashion and advertising is a good first step.

Its idea of a symbol that denotes that a publication is ''body image friendly'', similar to the Heart Foundation tick, could be an incentive to promote more realistic images of men and women.

Youth Minister Kate Ellis says the symbol will ''empower consumers to tell the fashion, beauty, media and modelling industries what they want and provide greater choice''. The criteria that will allow the awarding of the symbol will be determined over the next six months by a panel of experts.

If we truly want to tackle body image, it will require more than the empowering of consumers. It requires a recalibration of how we view the world, and our place within it. Within the space of just a few generations, we have undergone a quite radical reorientation of value. In a compelling and illuminating comparison, Joan Jacobs Brumberg, in her 1998 book The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls, shows us two extracts from the diaries of young women, with a century of social change separating them.

In the extract from 1882, we read: "Resolved, not to talk about myself or feelings. To think before speaking. To work seriously. To be self-restrained in conversation and actions. Not to let my thoughts wander. To be dignified. Interest myself more in others."

The contemporary extract reads: "I will try to make myself better in any way I possibly can with the help of my budget and babysitting money. I will lose weight, get new lenses, already got new haircut, good make-up, new clothes and accessories."

Two girls, living a century apart, with two very different ideas of what it is that matters.

While realism in fashion, media and advertising is helpful, we must tackle the deeper issue that is plaguing our young people.

We have devalued the importance of a person's character. We are less concerned with a person's fidelity, honesty, and selflessness than we are with their ability to look good, or dazzle us with wit and flattery.

The ''chk-chk boom'' girl, Clare Werbeloff, who recently posed naked for Ralph magazine, has now taught young women that deceit is profitable. You can completely fabricate a story, but if you make it sound good and exploit your moment in the spotlight, then wealth and infamy can be yours.

We care less about character than we do about cool. While Carl Williams was a convicted murderer and a central figure in the Melbourne gangland killings, we were, nonetheless, quite entranced by him. This no doubt informed the use of the phrase ''bent cops, straight cops, cool criminals and colourful characters'' in the promotions for the most recent series of Underbelly.

It seems we may even be choosing our Facebook friends based on the cool factor now. US President Barack Obama has enjoyed significant popularity, but it seems he has been eclipsed. In news just in, Lady Gaga now has more Facebook friends and Twitter followers than the leader of the free world.

Our young people are growing up in a society where all that really matters is how they appear. Add to this the fact that we are fast stripping away the notion that life has intrinsic value, and it's little wonder that their sense of worth lies in their appearance.

If the way you look determines your value, is it little wonder then that body image creates such angst?

The acquisition of character is obtainable by all, and requires integrity, courage, generosity, self-sacrifice, compassion and joy. It places demands on the heart, as opposed to just the hip-pocket.

The things that are worth pursuing, above all else, can rarely be photographed but they can be noticed. It is a person's integrity, courage, generosity, self-sacrifice, and compassion that leave a lasting impression, and it is this that we need to learn to celebrate.

That's a little harder to create a symbol for, and yet it is ultimately what really matters.

Help silence the cries of human trafficking victims

2010-07-14T15:00:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 1 July 2010

If someone were to write a soundtrack for the world cup, it would be filled with the clamour of cheering crowds and the drone of the vuvuzela. However, if you listened very carefully, it would also include the cries of those who are part of another bustling trade during the World Cup.

Investigative journalist, E Benjamin Skinner, who wrote A Crime So Monstrous: Face-to-Face with Modern-Day Slavery, recently wrote of the way traffickers were preparing for the World Cup.

He said, “During a three-week investigation into human-trafficking syndicates operating near two stadiums, I found a lucrative trade in child sex. The children, sold for as little as $45, can earn more than $600 per night for their captors. "I'm really looking forward to doing more business during the World Cup," said a trafficker.”

With 27 million people in modern-day slavery across the world, it is fast becoming the most profitable criminal activity. The face of human trafficking is, at times, devastatingly young. 80% of victims of sexual trafficking are women and the average age of a victim is 14, although there are reports of children as young as four being sold into sexual slavery.

Australia is not free from this scourge. In the tenth annual report about human trafficking, the US State Department gave us a mixed report card. It said, “Australia is a source and destination country for women subjected to trafficking in persons, specifically exploitation in forced prostitution, and, to a lesser extent, women and men in forced labour and children in commercial sexual exploitation.”

It can be overwhelming to consider the enormity of the problem, and yet we must not be paralysed by the size of the task ahead. Your very next action could be something that fights back against this terrible crime.

Start by becoming aware. Google the following organisations and find out what’s being done to fight the problem: Stop the Traffik; Not For Sale; The Blue Heart Campaign; The A21 Campaign; Project Respect; SHE Rescue Home and World Vision Child Rescue.

If you’re a movie buff, watch Amazing Grace: The William Wilberforce Story; The Jammed, an Australian film about sex trafficking in our nation; or Call + Response, a ‘rockumentary’ about the global slave trade.

Consider your consumption practises, and start to learn about goods produced without slave labour. Go to chainstorereaction.com and see how large brands are responding to requests for slave free products. Email a company to let them know that ethical business practises influence your buying choices. For instance, Cadbury now provides fair trade chocolate, but only in plain dairy milk. Why not encourage them to extend this commitment across all their lines?

Raise awareness and funds for one of the organisations you have learnt about by holding an event. It may be a small gathering of friends, or something much more extensive. Check out the Chocolate Fondue party at Stop the Traffik, using fair trade chocolate (of course) for an easy and delicious event idea.

Even the act of sponsoring a child can be a preventative measure, reducing the effects of poverty and ensuring children are provided with food, education and healthcare, decreasing their risk of being a victim.

It is possible for ordinary Australians to be connected with meaningful and tangible ways of helping. Every awareness campaign and every dollar raised makes a difference. It’s not okay that men, women and children are trafficked, in our country, or any country.

Now that you’ve stopped reading, it’s time to go and do something. Now. Because you can.

They also serve who only lend a sympathetic ear

2010-06-25T10:25:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 16 June 2010

This has been a sad week for the Australian Defence Forces, with Brisbane-based sappers Jacob Moerland, 21, and Darren Smith, 25, being laid to rest after making the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. One, a husband and father; one, a fiancé; both greatly loved.

Watching the footage of the their bodies being returned, one couldn’t help but grieve for their loved ones, who now struggle to adapt to life without the hope of their safe return.

The families of those deployed overseas carry a significant burden. For many of us, it’s one we rarely consider.

In a 2009 study of Defence Force families, it was found that when Australian Defence Force members are absent from their families for six weeks or more, the most common stressor or challenge for partners were ‘dealing with acute life stressors and everyday demands alone, without the emotional and practical support of spouses and partners’.

While it rarely makes headlines, the days that they parent alone are long and lonely. They are ordinary people, making an extraordinary sacrifice and they deserve to receive the gratitude of the wider community.

A recent opportunity to provide volunteers for an event for defence families left an indelible impression on me. Organising the volunteers was a relatively simple task, and they only needed to assist with the event for a couple of hours.

In the lead up to the event, I happened to mention what we were doing to someone I knew in the Defence Forces. Their reaction was immediate and caught me off-guard. With emotion clearly visible, they expressed how much it meant to hear that people from the community were remembering defence families. It was fuel for thought.

After the event, I called to find out how the morning had gone. I discovered that the practical assistance of the volunteers was appreciated, but even more so, the listening ear they provided. Many at the event were navigating life in their partner’s absence with babies, toddlers or school children, and it meant so much to simply have an adult take time out to sit down and listen.

Hearing this feedback, it struck me how easily we can make a small difference. Yet for those of us who aren’t connected to the Defence Forces, it can be a little intimidating to know how to support someone whose life experience is so far outside of your realm of understanding.

I asked a very experienced ‘army wife’ how we can best help our defence families, particularly those who have loved ones serving overseas, and what advice would assist someone wanting to connect and converse with them.

She spoke of the importance of supporting the person, whatever particular political opinions we have about the deployment. We can go a long way to making life a little easier simply by supporting and encouraging families, letting them talk, and assuring them of community support.

It’s important to acknowledge the difficulties that defence families face, and say thank you, rather than ignoring their circumstances. If you know a defence family, an invitation to a bbq or play date could really help, but avoid discussing details of overseas situations in conversations in front of children (particularly young children).

Treating defence families with respect, and acknowledging the reality of their situation, honours both them and their loved one overseas.

Let us not wait until a tragedy occurs to provide support for those with family serving their nation on distant shores. Small acts of kindness are within reach for all us, and can leave a big impression.

Billboards push the boundaries of community morals

2010-06-14T22:39:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 11 June 2010

One sign provides direction to the uniform shop, complete with school crest. The other sign provides direction to ‘two naughty bars’, complete with breasts. Both stand at an entrance to a boy’s school and both offer a very different educational experience.

While it was recently revealed that Australia’s most hated ad in 2009 was a television commercial featuring a pole-dancing mum, billboard advertising also generated significant community complaints.

The issue of outdoor advertising is one that has largely flown under the radar, even while being right in front of our face. From time to time, certain advertising campaigns raise the ire of women’s groups, family groups and others who are simply uncomfortable with having to see overtly sexual images, sometimes on billboards over 12 metres in width, while they navigate the school drop off and the work commute.

In what has become a relatively predictable routine though, complaints are made to the Advertising Standards Bureau (ASB), and then often dismissed, leaving the ads remaining, and ironically, leaving the offending companies with increased, and free, publicity.

However, the community is still speaking up, and they are not happy with what they see. In 2009, four of the ten most complained about ads were billboard ads. All four of these ads had the complaints about them dismissed and were allowed to continue being displayed.

From 1998 to 2009, the three most complained about ads generated close to 1000 complaints. That’s an astonishing number and would generally be considered indicative of widespread community angst, yet all were allowed to continue advertising. This included the billboard ad that featured topless women and which generated over 300 complaints.

The inconsistency across our advertising standards is staggering. Even if a billboard advertisement features images that couldn’t be shown on television until after 8:30pm or 9:30pm, it can be placed outside a school for students to walk past every day. It seems an incongruous situation.

It’s also a seemingly difficult one to change for while consumers are complaining, the ASB doesn’t seem to be listening. For instance, in 2009, billboard and television advertisements generated the most complaints received by the Advertising Standards Bureau, according to Chief Executive Officer, Ms Fiona Jolly. Speaking about the types of complaints, she said, “Through its complaints, the community has made constant comment about sex, sexuality and nudity. A lot of the comment has been in relation to billboard advertising.”

According to Jolly, ‘this will be one of the issues raised in community research being conducted on behalf of the ASB early in 2010’. While this is commendable, one would think that even though a simple glance back through the most complained about advertisements can quickly give you an idea about what generates community concern.

Whether we have reaching a tipping point in relation to community standards – the very standards that the Advertising Standards Bureau claims to represent - remains to be seen.

However, community concern around the issue of outdoor advertising standards is certainly building with summits, petitions and facebook groups starting up. All the signs are there that it’s time for a conversation about outdoor advertising standards.

It’s a conversation that can quickly derail and needs to be lead sensitively and wisely. Civic leadership that provides a framework of discussion informed by notions of regard for others, rather than censorship, would be truly helpful. Notions of freedom can so distract us that we forget the little feet that patter along behind us, being affected by that which we leave in our wake.

When those with influence use it to protect the weak, rather than unthinkingly exploit or expose them, society becomes nobler. Alternatively, when the powerful become preoccupied with their rights, and have little regard for how they impact and influence others, then we are culturally diminished.

Oliver Wendell Holmes said “Life is painting a picture, not doing a sum.” When we realise that our actions are adding colour to the canvas that is our community, we realise the importance of choosing those colours well – particularly when they are on a 12 metre wide billboard.

Champions of the underdog must stand up to bullies

2010-06-14T22:31:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 24 February 2010

Sometimes a confluence of circumstances sharpens your focus, and you realise afresh the importance of something.

The first of these was a young woman in tears. It’s not entirely unusual that people cry in my office, due to the nature of pastoral support, however, my heart broke for this young woman. As she told of the possibility of having to return to a town in which she had previously been bullied at school, there was a look of genuine terror on her face.

Perhaps the occasion was more poignant for me as I had also just recently read the news reports about Brodie Panlock. Brodie had worked in a Melbourne Café for 15 months leading up to September 2006 and was subjected to vicious and consistent workplace bullying of the most horrific nature.

According to reports, 19-year-old Brodie was ‘held down by workmates, had fish oil poured in her bag, was drenched in chocolate sauce and was constantly told she was worthless’. Two of her male colleagues called her fat and ugly, and spat on her.

Sadly, after the end of an intimate relationship with one of her colleagues, Brodie tried to commit suicide by taking rat poison. Her tormentors then honed in on this incident with their teasing. They put rat poison in her pay envelope and encouraged her to take it. Brodie eventually leapt to her death from the fourth floor of a building in September 2006.

Bullying is an insidious issue. It can come in many forms – physical bullying, verbal bullying or even social bullying such as exclusion or hurtful gossip.

Governments, workplaces and schools need to be addressing the issue. In many, many cases they are. Yet it’s a difficult dynamic to monitor. A manager responsible for a large staff was recently telling me of the reluctance they encounter when trying to get people to report instances of workplace bullying.

However, if we all simply stand by, while those around us are bullying or being bullied, we are aiding the continuation of an unhealthy, and dangerous, culture.

It’s time that we owned the problem of bullying within our society. I have a feeling that to really grapple with this blight on our national scorecard, we cannot just outsource it to those ‘in charge’ to solve. We must each accept responsibility for creating a culture where bullying is no longer an acceptable form of violence.

We cannot be passive bystanders. When we see bullying, we must speak up. Silence is not an option. While this is challenging, it is possible, and it is an imperative if we are to prevent tragedies like Brodie’s.

We must firstly recognise the situation for what it is. It’s not acceptable, and it should not be normal, to have a culture of insult, belittlement, marginalisation, or jokes that are at the expense of another. We see it embedded within popular culture (and several television shows come to mind) so we must actively remind ourselves of the pain caused by such behaviour in the real world.

If we are observing bullying taking place, we must plan how to react. Think through what you will say if someone makes rude or intimidating comments to someone in front of you. Consider a response if belittling emails are cc’d or forwarded to you. Some forethought equips us to respond well when we are confronted with inappropriate behaviour and will provide a helpful caution for those acted unthinkingly.

Simply begin to act. Start recording what you are observing, whether in a diary, notebook or other means. While Australians have an aversion to ‘dobbing’ we are excellent at standing up for the underdog. A comprehensive overview of how this person is being humiliated and degraded will not only galvanise you to act, but it will provide the means to do so.

There’s one more thing you can do, although it doesn’t involve direct action. It’s simple yet profound in it’s ability to make a difference. When you become aware that someone has been a victim of bullying, determine to be intentional about encouraging, caring and reaching out to that person. Small acts of kindness can make a big difference to a person with a wounded soul. You may not be able to erase the pain of the past, but you can remind them of their value and point them towards a brighter future. It really is the least we can do.

Web Filtering does not make a Nanny State

2010-01-01T12:49:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 1 January 2010

NO ONE likes a nanny state. We're quite keen that the government cracks down on repeat drink-drive offenders who endanger others, and we also demand the government regulates the financial industry to protect us from conmen.

But, really, no one likes a nanny state. We want government to ensure the continued operation of a civil society, enforce the law and protect the vulnerable.

We have a democratically elected, representative government to make these laws and we expect them to fulfil their duty. When children are being neglected or abused, we hold the government responsible to intervene for their protection. Our righteous indignation at any dereliction of duty, when it happens, is palpable. But we're adamant that we don't like a nanny state.

One could be forgiven for thinking the phrase ''nanny state'' is only brought out for a whipping when the government steps on our own ideological toes. A recent announcement from the Federal Government has seen the phrase dragged up again. With the news that Communications Minister Senator Stephen Conroy intends to proceed with the filtering of ''refused classification'' material at an internet service provider level, opponents of the move have emotively compared this decision to living in communist China.

(To state the obvious, the very freedom they have to publicly ridicule the Government immediately, and somewhat inconveniently, disproves their point.)

However, the concept of the ISP filter has caused heated discussions. Most arguments against it involve concerns about how it will impede performance, nervousness at how the blocked sites are identified, and the notion of civil liberty.

On the first issue, concerned Australians will be relieved to see the results of the trial. ISPs that were filtering only the Australian Communications and Media Authority blacklist had ''no noticeable performance degradation that could be attributed to the filter itself''.

On the second issue, Conroy has indicated an independent body, as opposed to the Government, will determine classification of internet sites. We currently have the Office of Film and Literature Classification classifying films and publications. So it seems a ''steady as she goes'' approach is being proposed.

Which brings us to civil liberties, the card being played by vocal opponents of the plan, such as the sex industry and some ISPs.

They suggest that for the Government to enact such a filter is censorship at its worst, limiting the freedom of the internet and trampling our civil liberties.

However, if we're talking liberties, one could also suggest that we, and our children, deserve the liberty and freedom to browse the internet free of the worst forms of exploitative and illegal material.

In all the agitation about this initiative, it's important to remember that the refused classification material, which will be filtered, does not include legal pornography. It includes sites containing child sex abuse, bestiality, sexual violence or detailed information about how to use drugs or commit crimes.

Australian society universally rails against child exploitation and predators. It seems illogical then that we would argue that material which involves these very activities should be able to be distributed online. Something is askew in our protests.

Conroy has made a courageous decision to trial and now proceed with ISP filtering of refused classification material.

It is one for which he will receive much hate mail, but one for which he should also be applauded by those who realise what he set out to do which is to protect our children from the very worst, illegal material online.

Worrying vagueness in renewed bid for euthanasia

2010-01-01T12:46:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 23 October 2009

SOUTH Australia is the latest battleground in the long-running campaign to legalise euthanasia.
That state's Parliament is scheduled to vote on the somewhat deceptively titled Consent to Medical Treatment and Palliative Care (Voluntary Euthanasia) Amendment Bill 2008 next Wednesday.

If the Bill, introduced by Greens MP Mark Purnell, is passed, it would legalise euthanasia for an adult who has an ``illness, injury or other medical condition that irreversibly impairs the person's quality of life so that life has become intolerable to that person''. There are also provisions for advance requests for those experiencing a "level of pain, indignity or other distress''.
Worryingly, the Bill does not define key phrases such as "terminal phase'', "terminal illness'', "pain'', "indignity'' or "distress''. Some are calling such omissions reckless and dangerous. Further, with no residency requirements, it could make South Australia a death tourism destination.

Euthanasia advocates have been clamouring for a win since the Northern Territory's euthanasia laws were overturned by federal law in March 1997. In the nine months euthanasia had been legal, Dr Philip Nitschke was the only doctor to use the laws to help people kill themselves.

Greens Senator Bob Brown last year introduced a Bill to allow the Northern Territory to reinstate euthanasia and in Victoria Greens MP Colleen Hartland put forward a private member's Bill to introduce voluntary euthanasia. Both were defeated.

The issue of assisted suicide or voluntary euthanasia has also generated much discussion in legislatures internationally.
In Canada, the Special Senate Committee on Euthanasia and Assisted Suicide in 1995 recommended against legalising assisted suicide and voluntary euthanasia.

It observed that "if assisted suicide were legalised and accepted by the community, how could the expectations of the people surrounding the patient not influence his or her decision, particularly if the patient feels she or he is a burden on the family?''.
It also observed: "Financial restraints could also result in attempts, perhaps unconsciously, to influence patients to die more quickly and conveniently.''

It concluded that "all of the above factors could make it difficult to establish whether a request for assisted suicide is voluntary''.

The British House of Lords in 2006 and again in 2009 voted against legislation for voluntary euthanasia, reaffirming its previous comments that "if a law permitting euthanasia were passed, then vulnerable people - the elderly, lonely, sick or distressed - would feel pressure, whether real or imagined, to request early death''.

This is one of the very real problems with legislation such as that coming before the South Australian Parliament. What of those who are vulnerable, or who have disabilities or mental illness, and who are aware of the increased level of care they require from friends and family?

When does the option to die subtly shift to the duty to do so?

Those in despair need medical professionals, and society in general, to provide comfort and protection, rather than place them in a vulnerable position.

To do anything less is to betray those we are meant to care for.

Humans not the enemy in climate change debate

2009-10-12T19:46:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 12 October 2009

SOMEONE has to say it sooner or later. "We are not the enemy."

By we, I mean you, and me, my neighbour and, well, everyone really. So often that is what we are perceived or promoted as – the enemy, the problem, the plague.

In just the past few weeks, Sustainable Population Australia declared: "There is not a single environmental problem that benefits from increased population." In other words, you are intrinsically bad for the environment. Carbon credit time perhaps?

It's interesting, and a little disquieting, to observe the undercurrents that sometimes bubble to the surface in the climate change conversation. These undercurrents are vastly removed from a healthy and desperately needed message of care and stewardship of the earth.

In these conversations, we are positioned as antagonists – people versus the environment – and methods such as how we can stop people having children are seriously discussed. For instance, in 2007, West Australian professor Barry Walters suggested a carbon tax on babies and advocated carbon credits for those who bought condoms or underwent sterilisation. He wasn't joking.

The "more humans are bad" concept, referenced by Sustainable Population Australia, is in no way a new idea. In 1798, Reverend Thomas Malthus was writing about population control. At a time when the global population was about 800 million, he said: "The power of population is indefinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence for man."

Population control is an idea that the indulgent West is happy to theorise about, and a conversation the developed world is happy to host. However, like most global scenarios, it's the poor who would suffer the most if we move past rumination and into application. In the same way that we would be aghast at suggestions to discard our superannuation, those in most developing nations would be horrified to have to limit their number of children to one or two. When your family is your social security system, population control contains ominous overtures.

What if we took a different perspective, though? Could people ever be the solution and not the problem?

What if we invested in innovation and respected reproduction?

The inherent potential in humanity itself is stunning if ever appreciated in its breadth and depth. The genesis of a truly great, revolutionary idea for energy generation, for agricultural technology, for waste reduction or for recycling methods may lie in the person you met yesterday.

Or it may lie in the fourth child of a family in Africa or India. What if, instead of controlling population, we created opportunities for education, established cultures of creativity and encouraged responsible, careful use of the natural resources around us?

I don't have all the answers for the environmental problems we face. I guess that's my point.

Perhaps you have the answer, or part of it.

Someone else may have part of it too and that someone else may just be the child being born while you read this. In that case, an increased population was exactly what we, and our planet, needed.

I respectfully suggest that Sustainable Population Australia is wrong. We are not the enemy, and we would do well to remember that.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Say sorry - and do it soon - to save relationships

2009-10-12T19:45:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 23 September 2009

The world collectively grimaced last week, when Kanye West interrupted the Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech for winning Best Female Video award at the MTV Video Music Awards.

For those who missed the vast coverage of the event, Kanye West ran onto the stage, took the microphone of Swift and declared, "Taylor, I'm really happy for you. I'll let you finish. But Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time ... one of the best videos of all time!" (Beyonce has also been a been a nominee in the category). Kanye West was booed off stage and Beyonce kindly called Taylor Swift back on stage later in the night to finish her speech.

And yet for Kanye, the damage was done. Condemnation was vicious and widespread, with castigation coming from those in the music industry through to fans and even to President’s. Appearing on “The Jay Leno Show” a few days later, Kanye spoke about the event. He said, “It was rude, period”, and suggested he may take some time away to reevaluate his actions.

Fortunately, unlike Kanye, we don't all have our errors of judgement broadcast live to millions of viewers. But  all of us say and do things we later realize were inappropriate. Making amends is important but it can be difficult and sometimes intimidating  to do so. However, when done well it can provide an opportunity for growth like few other experiences.

Whether it is business, friendships and family or other significant relationships, the art of recovery from a disastrous moment is an important one to learn. If we fail to do so, we live in denial or in emotional immaturity, governed by our feelings. There’s nothing quite as humbling as admitting your mistakes to people you need to continue to be around.

When we do wrong, we need to avoid the temptation to blameshift and make excuses, rationalizing our bad behaviour. Instead we need to own our guilt at wrongdoing and then create a mental inventory of those people whom we need to go and make amends with, seeking forgiveness.

This is actually a significant part of the 12 step program of recovery, and while we may not need to attend a support group, their methods are instructive.

Step 8 is to ‘Make a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all’ and step 9 is ‘make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others’. Perhaps even more importantly, participants are encouraged to make amends ‘when the first opportunity presents itself’. This is important, for it allows less time for bad attitudes to form and fester. In the words of Italian psychiatrist, Roberto Assagioli, “Without forgiveness life is governed by an endless cycle of resentment and retaliation”.

In the Narcotics Anonymous Basic Text, it reads, ‘In some cases, amends may be beyond our means…. However, we should never fail to contact anyone because of embarrassment, fear or procrastination.” Our errors of judgment may never be as prominent as Kanye’s, but their impact can be significant. It may well be time to put to paper, fingers to keyboard or pick up that phone, and have a difficult but courageous discussion. The temporary discomfort of such is far outweighed by the long term benefits to our relationships.

In real life there are more than a few good men

2009-10-12T19:45:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 17 August 2009

To be honest, sometimes I feel sorry for men. Men so often get a bad rap. Modern narratives are filled with negative stereotypes. We are reminded often that men are more likely to commit violent crime and have higher rates of incarceration, and we’ve all heard of examples of dead-beat dads.

But last week, in a refreshing variant, we heard about two good men.

Murray Goodrich was one of these men. Murray’s daughters described him as an ‘amazing’ father. Their description of a man who cooked for them, took them fishing, did their hair and taught them how to drive was heart-warming. Even more poignant was their recounting that he would call them each night from work to talk to them. Last Monday was the final night he called, when he checked to see how they enjoyed the steaks he had prepared for them. Not long after that final phone call, Goodrich was killed while working as a traffic controller on the Bruce Highway.

Jay Carter was the other man. We heard about Jay when the ashes of his late wife, Amanda, were heartlessly stolen from his family home in Richlands. Also in the stolen safe were their wedding rings and wedding certificate, Amanda’s engagement ring, and a dvd that Amanda had prepared for their son. Thankfully, her ashes and some of the items have been recovered and returned to Jay and his son.

Both of these sad stories last week highlighted men who very obviously loved their wife and family. Maybe it is because we hear negative portrayals so often that the contrast of these stories had such a strong impact.

Of course, I’m aware of the sad fact that men are more likely to commit violent crimes, and that dead-beat dads do exist. Some men do objectify and exploit women, but there are also a lot of men that are good men. While we rarely hear about these men, they are there.

In extensive interviews for What Men Don’t Talk About, Australian author Maggie Hamilton, spoke to men of all ages. The results are compelling and reveal many men feel a nagging sense of failure, as well as isolation. Hamilton wrote, “Almost every man I approached for an interview prefaced his comments by saying he wasn’t a typical man. It wasn’t until I had heard this comment a number of times that I realised these men were asking to be treated as individuals. When they understood this was my approach, they were amazingly frank and articulate. I marvelled at their openness, the richness of their life experiences and the depth of their emotions.”

It would do us well to recognise that there are very many men in our community who deserve encouragement and applause. They are all different. Some are parenting, with a partner or alone. Some are serving the poor or disadvantaged. Some are working with addicts or the displaced. Some are teaching their kids how to ride a bike or brush their teeth. Some are helping their neighbour or friend with gardening or moving furniture or in a variety of other ways. Some are living quiet unassuming lives and some are living prominently.

They are men doing their best to live productive, meaningful and purposeful lives and like all of us, need encouragement. They are by no means perfect, but then again, none of us are.

Science can help us conceive but can't explain motivation

2009-08-12T19:07:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 28 July 2009

JUST because we can, doesn't always mean we should. It's a conventional piece of wisdom, yet three reports from the past few weeks remind us of its import.

The first was of Sonya, a single woman of 44 from the Sunshine Coast who is seeking a donor egg and donor sperm so she can have a child.

Sonya's previous long-term partner did not want children and now, after failed in-vitro fertilisation attempts, she is trying to find someone willing to have an egg extracted for donation. Sonya will arrange for its fertilisation with donor sperm and carry the child until birth.

The second report was of Maria del Carmen Bousada. She died recently but is survived by her twin children, who are toddlers.

Maria was 69 when she died, and had lied to a Californian fertility clinic about her age some years ago so that she could undergo IVF. When she gave birth in 2006, she was believed to be the world's oldest mother.

The third report was of Jenny Brown. Jenny, who had a successful career as an academic, and never had a long-term partner, is 72. She is about to go through her seventh round of IVF in London, having spent more than $60,000 on the process. She explains: "I'd always had it in the back of my mind that when the time was right I'd like to have a child. But my studies meant that children kept getting delayed."

Some may see these three situations as the triumph of science. After all, it seems that women no longer have to be dictated to by biology or social circumstances and can create family if and when they want to. No partner, no problem.

It may be seen as an opportunity to celebrate the independence and power of women, as well as being able to extol the fortunes of children who will be so obviously planned and desired. At last, we can have it all, when we want, and how we want it.

Finally we can bend circumstances to our preferred social agenda of self-determinism. We win!

But with winners must come losers. And losers there will be.

We don't like to talk about the losers – it spoils the party. Besides, too much talk about the losers and we risk raising uncomfortable questions. What rights do children have? Are those right being trampled for the sake of fulfilling the desires of adults? To whom should IVF be available? Should children be able to access information about their biological parents?

It's such a sensitive subject, and wading into any kind of discussion feels as if you are entering an emotional minefield.

After all, who would want to turn around and oppose any woman's methods of seeking motherhood? Yet there is a sense that such pursuits are causing a fundamental and negative shift in our understanding of personhood and identity.

I fear we may not fully understand the implications of this for many years, and when we do, we will rue the idea that treated the elements of conception as commodities.

What if this is a symptom of a society that is increasingly global, but increasingly fractured? What if loneliness is just as much the problem as childlessness?

An answer then may be found in community – radical, loving, authentic community.

Sometimes success leaves us empty and life leaves us lonely, but the answer is not always to create a child by any means.

Assisted reproductive technologies such as IVF can allow us to have children made to order. But just because we can, doesn't mean we should – does it?

Integrity is an essential building block in our society

2009-08-12T19:06:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 7 July 2009

Google ‘integrity’ and you get 66,500,000 results. There’s certainly no shortage of integrity online, but headlines at the moment suggest it may be in short supply in the real world. Cast your eye over some of the news stories at the moment, such as Madoff’s sentence, the Nuttall trial, and British MP allowance rorts, and you may wonder if there is an integrity crisis. Even our NRL players seem to be concerned, according to a survey just published in the magazine Rugby League Week. The Courier Mail this week reported that the survey indicated 60 out of 100 players surveyed were embarrassed to be associated with the sport.

Integrity is the adherence to moral and ethical principles, and soundness of moral character. Far from being a noble aspiration, which may have belonged to earlier times when vice and virtue were part of public language, it is an essential building block within a society. This is at least organisationally acknowledged by the appointment next week of Dr David Solomon as the Queensland Integrity Commissioner.

The role, which was formerly filled by Gary Crooke QC, gives advice to Queensland politicians and senior bureaucrats regarding conflicts of interest and how to avoid them. This is something for which Dr Solomon’s legal and journalistic background should have well prepared him. His role is significant, for integrity and trust are essential to a strong social fabric, and successful community.

Elaborating on this idea in a radio interview late last year was Parker Palmer, educator and author of “A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey toward an Undivided Life”. He said, “One of the breakthrough studies recently done in what makes schools successful on behalf of kids is a factor they call "relational trust." They found that if a building is full of people who trust each other, you're going to get great outcomes for kids even if that school is unfairly deprived of the resources it needs. Because if people trust each other, they will come into community, they will generate abundance, they will love the kids and love each other, and good education will emerge. If a building is full of people who don't trust each other, you can throw a lot of money at them, state-of-the-art curriculum and teaching technique, and not much good will come out the other end.”

I would suggest that in the same way, if a state is full of people who don’t trust each other or their leaders, we can throw money at public relations, photo opportunities and smart state slogans, but we’ll never see great outcomes. For a group of people to thrive, and to generate abundance, there must be trust, and for there to be trust, we must be people of integrity.

Politicians and public servants aren’t the only ones who need to display integrity for that to happen though. We all do. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “I cannot find language of sufficient energy to convey my sense of the sacredness of private integrity”.

Unfortunately, we don’t get the benefit of a personal integrity commissioner. Just imagine if we did – sort of a personal trainer, but advising us (and sometimes cajoling us) to live honest, ethical and moral lives. Sometimes we’d love them and, in all honesty, sometimes they would be jolly frustrating. However, I suspect that we’d be thankful when the moment of temptation had passed and we had been able to act with integrity. We would be free of justifying our errant behaviour, free of reconciling broken and damaged relationships and free of guilt over wrongdoing.
Integrity is an essential ingredient of being a trustworthy person, and of being a part of a trustworthy society. As Tom Peters, one of the fathers of modern management, said, “There is no such thing as a minor lapse of integrity”.

Dr Solomon has his work cut out for him – but then again, so do we all.

Digital pictures never fade away in today's world of blogs

2009-08-12T19:02:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 23 June 2009

There’s a saying that ‘once something goes digital, it never disappears’. If you post a photo online, then someone can copy it and paste it on to their blog. Someone else can then copy that and email it to another friend. Pretty soon, your photo is on 20 different computers, and if you’re lucky, some of them have even been retouched and you look ten years younger!

Digital is a relatively recent paradox – with photos being a perfect example. Digital Photos are at once more tenuous, while also more tenacious, then those you process from film. I still regret the loss of all my gorgeous photos from Fiji several years ago, after a computer malfunction caused their files to get corrupted less than 24 hours after I had loaded them all my laptop. If I had taken them on film, and processed them, I would have a hard copy.

However, on the other hand, who hasn’t been amazed at how quickly photos can be distributed now. Mobile uploads of wedding photos can be uploaded to sites such as Facebook or Twitter before the ceremony’s even over. This essentially provides the decentralisation of storage, so that there are multiple copies available. These copies stay online in various iterations, as well as people often being able to save them to their own computer.

Something tells me we haven’t yet completely understood or processed (no pun intended) the ramifications of everything going digital. One aspect of this is the growing concern and confusion about the so called ‘cyber graveyards’ that are developing on social networking sites such as Facebook when a user passes away.

From the legal estate viewpoint, some lawyers are now suggesting that people keep lists of site memberships and cryptic logs of passwords. Therefore when someone dies, the executor of the estate will be able to access and change their profile (If this all sounds a little mature for a social networking site, consider than in the last six months of 2008, Facebook’s 35-54 year old demographic segment saw a 276.4% growth rate.)

However, once the mechanics of how to get into the site are fixed, the dilemma remains as to whether sites contribute to, or facilitate, healthy grieving. Should sites be removed, or left up as a memorial? How long should they be left up? Add the fact that some family members report that sites are reluctant to completely remove profiles of the deceased and it becomes a quandary.

The tenuous vs tenacious dilemma comes into play again. Depending on the family, the situation, and the level of discourse on the website, it may be that digital copies everywhere are the last thing you want or need. On the other hand, many of the sites could serve as the perfect depository for information, photos and videos. They could also provide a point of connection for people who are sharing the mourning process, and give people a destination for their expressions of grief, in a similar way to a headstone, yet one accessible from virtually anywhere in the world.

The relatively new, and certainly different, information dynamics now available with digital content open up a range of opportunities, as does the growth of social networking websites. Perhaps most importantly, we need to ensure that online profiles become something that can serve and facilitate the commemoration of a life, in a way that is contextually appropriate. That will take a lot of conversation, particularly between users and site administrators. However, this is not an issue that is going to go away anytime soon. It may not be the conversation we want, but it’s the one we have to have.

Life or Death DNA test is probably too much information

2009-06-10T21:24:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 9 June 2009

THERE are things in life that I love to know. I love to know when there is a must-see movie to go to or when old friends are going to be in town.

I love to know when a great new cafe has opened in Brisbane, particularly if it stays open later than 9pm on a weeknight. A long shot I know, but I remain eternally hopeful.

There are also some things that I would prefer not to know. I don't really want to know that the dress I bought last week is now on sale and I really don't want to know that there are spiders crawling in the walls of my bedroom.

There's not really anything I can do about them, so why expend the emotional energy?

Knowing some things can be helpful, while knowing other things can create unnecessary anxiety.

How do we know which is which? Take, for instance, a new DNA test, which purports to tell you what you are likely to die of, and possibly even when that will occur. Is that helpful information?

Some would say yes and, not surprisingly, that includes those who market and profit from such tests.

A recent report on 60 Minutes showcased one such test.

The report showed three Australians undertaking the deCODEme DNA test to find out what diseases and conditions they are likely to succumb to later in life.

Perhaps what was most striking about the results was that they weren't that striking. In fact, all three participants received results that were not much different from the average Australian's risk of developing something.

Scott Cam, a TV handyman, was diagnosed as being slightly above the average risk of getting lung cancer or Alzheimer's. It wasn't exactly life-changing news.

After discussing them with geneticist, Professor Bob Williamson, Scott said: "So, what we've worked out is stay off the smokes, go for a run around the block, do some crosswords and I can have a drink?"

So, do some exercise, quit toxic habits and drink in moderation - nothing particularly groundbreaking there.

I have to admit, I wondered why anyone would bother having a DNA test when you can grab any women's magazine and get essentially the same advice for a fraction of the cost. (A women's magazine will also tell you what's hot in winter shoes - and I'm pretty sure a DNA test can't do that.)

Williamson is convinced of the power and possibility of genetic research. However, he was also careful to mention the caveat that these tests are good "provided you're the sort of person who can take these things and live with them and realise that they're not determining what illness you'll get - they're just a hint".

Therein lies a problem. What if you are not that sort of person? With no mention of psychological profiling necessary before undergoing this simple DNA test, what if we are producing unnecessary anxiety for people?

Considering that anxiety and stress can contribute to their own medical conditions, we could be causing damage. What if, in trying to avert some illnesses, we create others?

Dr Hans Selye, a Canadian endocrinologist, spent his life studying the physical effects of stress and discovered the link between stress levels and emotional and physical health.

He discovered that the emotion most consistent with physical health was gratitude, and the emotion most consistent with physical breakdown was resentment. Further, he concluded that adopting the right attitude could convert a negative stress into a positive one.

No DNA test will pick that up, though. Our health is affected by much more than our genetic predispositions, and we would all be wise to remember that.

Ruth Limkin

If we are challenged by death we may be able to live more richly

2009-06-10T21:21:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 19 May 2009

FARRAH Fawcett and Jade Goody were stars in different eras. One was famous for her part in the glamorous crime-fighting trio who were the original Charlie's Angels. The other was infamous for her part in the motley group who were Britain's Big Brother contestants, as well as subsequent appearances in Celebrity Big Brother and its Indian version, Big Boss.

These women seemingly had little in common. That is until recently, when they both chose to chronicle their fight against cancer in front of the camera. Goody died in March. She left behind two sons, a widower and enough footage for there to be a five-part documentary series created around her life and death.

Fawcett is still fighting. Last weekend the screening of Farrah's Story on NBC in the United States drew about nine million viewers. The show was originally conceived as a video diary for Farrah and her family to celebrate her cancer victory in the future.

At Fawcett's request, her long-time friend, Alana Stewart, filmed her in treatment and at home. Stewart, who was also a producer on the show, said the movie highlights Fawcett's strength, and she told the American ABC network: ``Her big message to people is don't give up, no matter what they say to you, keep fighting.''

Perhaps the raw honesty will be of use to those who are experiencing similar battles. Dr James Church, a colorectal cancer specialist, when speaking of Fawcett's story, said: ``She helps a lot of people. When they see someone who has the courage to really fight, that encourages them and their families.''

Some may find the concept of chronicling one's life-and-death struggle in front of the camera as bad taste, or money-grabbing. Some may see it as a vicious indictment on our voyeuristic society, where we seem to be viewing someone's pain as entertainment. Has the media industry gone way too far when it serves up not just the reality of life but also the reality of death?

Goody had some thoughts on that topic. She told reporters: ``I've lived my whole adult life talking about my life. The only difference is that I'm talking about my death now. It's OK. I've lived in front of the cameras. And maybe I'll die in front of them. And I know some people don't like what I'm doing but at this point I really don't care what other people think. Now, it's about what I want.''

It was the process of considering her death that motivated Goody to consider her life and those within it. She had made no secret of the fact that the money her public life and death would earn was to ensure her sons were looked after and able to be educated.

Goody had come from a disadvantaged family background, and had missed out on a lot of her education, and wanted to make certain that her sons had a different experience.

It's not surprising that she married a former flame not long before her death, or that Fawcett's former partner, Ryan O'Neal, has been a close companion during her ordeal.

Death has a way of focusing us. It prompts us to make the most of our days. Professor and author Leo F. Buscaglia said: ``Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time . . . It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.''

Perhaps the chronicles of the struggles of Goody and Fawcett have given us an opportunity.
That is, if we allow ourselves to be challenged by death, we may be more able to live and love more richly.

Ruth Limkin

Parents should be the masters at delivering sex education

2009-05-18T15:51:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 15 April 2009

ISN'T it amazing how a little thing like Queensland Education endorsing The Hormone Factory website can stir up so much controversy?

After all, sex is a part of life and we must have bright, animated websites to tell 11- and 12-year-old children all about it -- mustn't we?

True, it was a little disturbing that the website posed questions with completely nonsensical answers to select from. For example, in the multiple-choice section, one question was, ``What age do people have sex? The three available answers were ``I agree'', ``I don't agree'' or ``I don't know''. With content quality like that, it's no wonder people are upset Education Queensland endorsed this website.

However, there's an even bigger question than the site's obvious flaws, and that is the question as to just who is teaching our children about sex?

Tween magazines are certainly trying to do their bit. One of these is Girl Power, which describes itself as ``the must-read magazine within the 7-13-year-old tween girls set''.

Girl Power recently directed its child readers to a fashion-oriented forum which also featured older teenagers talking about explicit sex acts. Whoops. That shouldn't have happened, except it did, and it's too late to undo inappropriate exposure.

In an increasingly secularised society, raising children with values is getting difficult. When governments and families have very different, often opposite, values, then teaching about relationships, when life begins and sexuality is challenging.

In Queensland, Parents & Citizens' Associations have lost the right to help shape and approve content of material relating to sex education. It would seem that this important and far-reaching education is being taken out of the hands of parents and being put into the hands of bureaucrats and government ministers. However, is it really the job of the state to teach children about sex? Isn't that what families are meant to do?

When society and social institutions shared a common world view, values promoted by the state and values promoted within most homes were widely consistent. There was a public understanding about what was considered the preferred value system to promote, and this was rarely one that parents felt uncomfortable with.

However, as we have moved away from publicly endorsing a Judaeo-Christian world view, we have struggled to replace it with a morally consistent framework of values at a social level.

This makes sex education difficult. Speaking about sexual expression doesn't happen within a values void and we are absolutely fooling ourselves if we suggest it does. We would also be mistaken to suggest that we no longer have a sense of rights and wrongs relating to sexual expression. This was recently revealed in the public outcry over reports of the 13-year-old dad in England. However, if we shy away from the difficult and uncomfortable conversations about the values we teach a generation, I would suggest we lose the right to express shock at 13-year-old parents.

So, we have a problem. Who decides what to teach children about when sex is and isn't OK? What happens when Queensland Education is implicitly teaching values that are different from, or diametrically opposed to, the values that parents are teaching their children?

Teaching children about sex and the context of sexual expression is important -- too important to be left to websites that purport to teach children about sex but can't even get their facts right.

Nowhere in the world should a child be an item to trade

2009-03-13T10:09:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 13 March 2009

IT STARTED as a fairly ordinary day. There I was, enjoying a pleasant breakfast, having met some lovely people, and listening to an interesting speaker I had gone to hear talk about chocolate and fair trade.

I left realising that something had changed forever.

On that pleasant morning in South Brisbane, the university professor from San Francisco told us of his personal research into the travesty of human trafficking.

He spoke of his experience on the Thai-Burma border, and told us a child can be bought there for $6.

That was less than what I had paid for breakfast.

I left the function that day and drove back to work, feeling a gnawing disquiet -- $6 for a child.

On one hand, it was nothing new. I had been aware that slavery still existed in the world, but on the other, it was something new. I had realised the global, broad concept that human trafficking existed. Yet I had never known how much a child could be sold for: $6.

Children are not commodities to be bought, sold, traded or ordered, whether it is on the Thai-Burma border or in the hallowed halls of scientific research.

I fear we are experiencing a shift at the moment. The developed nations, those who would never buy or sell a child for $6, are in fact doing the same thing, under a different guise.

Ever so subtly, and mostly without consciously choosing to do so, the developed world, is starting to view children as
something we can order in the same way we would a value meal from McDonald's -- this burger, that side and swap the drink.
It started with a small test to pick up a disease or abnormality or two, and before you know it, we can now select certain characteristics, screen out others and choose what type of parents, or parent, to give the child. It's the McChildren phenomenon.

This was most glaringly obvious in recent reports that Mary and Antonio Speranza, of New Jersey, had applied to use their dead son's frozen sperm to produce a grandchild by artificially inseminating a surrogate mother.

The New York Times reported that the Speranzas had paid $400 a year to preserve the specimen, and were hoping to have their son's estate ``legally declared the rightful owner of the specimens''.

The state appeals court denied their request. In the judgment, they expressed sympathy for the parents, but explained there was no legal basis which could be found to grant their wishes. Reportedly, as the dead man was unable to be screened for disease, he was unable to ``donate'' sperm.

That it was the lack of a blood test that prevented this request from being fulfilled should concern us. While losing a son is a tragedy, a bigger tragedy would be creating a child whose father died before its conception, and whose ``mother'' was little more than a biological host.

Children are not commodities. They should not be bought for $400 a year in sperm storage fees and should not be sold from the cold halls of reproductive facilities to grieving grandparents.

They should not be traded as life in exchange for death and children should not be ordered by using frozen sperm from a dead man and a womb for rent.

Children are not commodities to be consumed for personal gain.

They are people, and they should be recognised, esteemed and protected -- wherever they are in the world.

Ruth Limkin

Facebook is great, but information is not intimacy

2009-03-13T10:07:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 2 March 2009

YOU may read that ``Ruth is enjoying her coffee''. Perhaps you will discover that ``Michael is studying up on squidgies and flatheads''. Or maybe you will read that ``Derric just told himself to stop being such an emo and start loving what he's got''.

Facebook status updates contain a wealth of information, and are the new way for friends to fill each other in on what is happening in their life -- from the trivial to profound. As an avid Facebook user, I have seen births announced, engagements declared, and relationship breakdowns made known -- all via Facebook.

With 175 million active users as a part of the Facebook network, and 15 million of those users updating their status at least once a day, Facebook is the new social hub. Long gone are the days of chatting at the local store, or over the neighbour's fence. Today, the little titbits of our lives are electronically disseminated.

It makes perfect sense. We are now more likely to form a community with those who share common interests, as opposed to those who share a common geographical location. We can't necessarily pop across the road to catch up with friends as they may be quite a distance away.

As the pace of life hits ``harried'', with seemingly no solution to this state, we are time-poor yet still realise the value and necessity of relationships. Therefore, we find other ways to stay in touch. We message each other electronically, blog, share photos online and can even video skype each other.

Any time of the day or night, I can jump on my computer or check my phone Facebook application, and read all the latest status updates of my friends. Some are amusing, and a good way to pass the time while waiting for an appointment. Some are interesting, and tell me a little more about a person. With a Facebook account, you can be awash with information about your friends. But information doesn't equate to intimacy.

A tragic event last week is a reminder that the human soul needs much more than information. It needs authentic relationships -- to know and be known.

Paul Zolezzi, a 30-year-old Brooklyn resident, updated his Facebook status recently with a suicide note, when he wrote that ``Paul was born in San Francisco, became a shooting star over everywhere, and ended his life in Brooklyn . . . And couldn't have asked for more.'' Hours later, he hanged himself in a playground near his house.

Sadly, the New York Post reported that one of Zolezzi's friends left a comment on his status update shortly after it was written that said: ``Are you dying? Or just staying Brooklyn? I hope it's the latter.''

If you do a search on Facebook now, Zolezzi's profile has been removed, but a Facebook group has been set up to remember him. It has already received comments from people all around the world -- some who knew Zolezzi and many who didn't.
As an online network, or social utility (as Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg likes to call it), Facebook is an excellent application. It can, and does, supplement and complement authentic relationships.

However, as impressive and useful as it is, we must never be lulled into thinking it can replace the community we discover when we enter into people's offline, and often messy, lives.

Ruth Limkin

Fears over praying will only bring good work to its knees

2009-03-13T10:05:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 2 February 2009

AS HE smiled, the crinkles in his face deepened and I could glimpse his teeth, stained from a lifetime of chewing betelnut. I also saw the weariness behind his eyes. Like many others in his community, he found himself as the only carer for his two grandchildren. They were parentless, orphaned by an AIDS epidemic that has decimated a generation.

Several streets away, I met an elderly couple. He was 88. She was 87, and starting to suffer from Parkinson's disease. They have taken in their 12-year-old great-granddaughter to care for her, as she has lost both her parents and grandparents to AIDS. Sitting on the floor of a very simple hut, the great-grandmother took my hand and simply held it.

I was in Hang Dong, a community near Chiang Mai in Thailand. In 2005, Hang Dong was considered one of the worst AIDS-affected areas in Thailand. Sexual promiscuity is a culturally acceptable practice, and affairs are almost expected, particularly when men are away from their homes. They then often return home with HIV/AIDS and transmit it to their wives. There is a large number of sex workers living in urban areas near Chiang Mai city and they tell of foreign clients who will only buy their services if they do not use protection.

As you walk and drive around Hang Dong, and particularly as you meet families in the community, you realise that this ``Land of Smiles'' is merely a successful image portrayed for promoting tourism. The reality is much grimmer.

Recent statistics suggest that more than one in 100 adults in this country of 65 million people is infected with HIV, and AIDS has become a leading cause of death. Adding in the recent worldwide economic downturn affecting tourism numbers, life for those in the community of Hang Dong may get worse before it gets better.

However, hope still shines. Staff and workers I visited with at the First Priority Development Foundation, a community development faith-based organisation, are making a significant difference.

Like many other FBOs, they are close to the action and can provide an holistic approach to rebuilding lives, addressing spiritual, practical and social needs.

They discovered that the grandfather with two grandchildren could afford only one bicycle, so the girls would take turns going to school.

The foundation bought a second bike. Now, both girls can go to school each day. As my friend said, ``That's not just a bike then -- it's a future.''

On another visit, a worker from the foundation discovered the 87-year-old eating sugar, for she had run out of food and had no one around to buy her more. They responded by filling several shopping bags with food. They fixed up housing, cared for her -- and prayed with her.

Those last four words can make people uncomfortable. After all, in our current social climate, it can be socially unacceptable to come out in support of FBOs or anything with religious connections. In fact, the Australian Human Rights Commission has launched a new inquiry called Freedom of Religion and Belief in the 21st Century. It asks such questions as whether ``religious or faith-based groups have undue influence over government''.

In an interesting conjunction to this, we discover in a report co-published by UNICEF, that ``international agencies are increasingly recognising the role of religious organisations in establishing effective HIV/AIDS interventions. Despite some negative perceptions of their role and impact, faith-based organisations are among the most viable institutions at local and national levels and have developed experience in addressing the multi-dimensional impact of AIDS and its particular impact on children''.

Secular Westerners often wish that FBOs leave out the praying bit. However, that may be the very thing which energises these organisations to address the consequences of nations stricken with AIDS.

Ruth Limkin

Death Clock points the way to a happier, healthier lifestyle

2009-01-01T23:40:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 1 January 2009

I AM going to die on November 16, 2066. Unless I become a pessimist, in which case I will die on August 12, 2033.

And where have I discovered this amazing, insightful information? Where else – the internet.

A friend, who seems to have a talent for finding intriguing websites, walked into my office declaring he knew exactly how many seconds he had left to live and directed me to www.deathclock.com

This website describes itself as "the internet's friendly reminder that life is slipping away . . . second by second. Like the hourglass of the net, the Death Clock will remind you just how short life is".

You jump on, enter your weight and height, nominate whether you are a smoker or not, and choose from one of four choices of mood – normal, optimist, pessimist or even a sadist. If I become a sadist I can expect to die four years from now.

The Death Clock seems designed to encourage people to give up smoking and lose weight, and has links to a range of health-related articles covering everything from ADD to workplace health.

It's a great website to check out at this time of year. Most of us think about our health as we begin a new year, and around our nation various resolutions regarding fitness, weight loss, healthier eating and healthier habits will be made.

All of which is good – although a little doomed if we do not set some concrete goals and plans of actions as to how we will achieve it.

Another area of life the Death Clock reminds us about, albeit lightheartedly, is the difference that our attitude makes. According to the Death Clock, I lose 33 years if I adopt a pessimistic approach to life, and science may agree.

More and more research is being done on mind-body connections and the effect a positive outlook on life has for our physical health.

A 2004 study by the University of Texas into ageing and attitude concluded that those with an upbeat, optimistic view of life were less likely to show signs of physical frailty than those who were pessimists.

The July 2003 issue of Psychosomatic Medicine had a study showing that those with an energetic, happy and relaxed attitude are less likely to catch the common cold.

Even the Bible has an encouraging message: "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person's strength."

Choosing to maintain a relaxed and optimistic attitude can radically change your approach and experience to life's curve balls.

So how are we to cultivate a healthy emotional life? How do we resist the seemingly endless procession of stressors we encounter in 21st-century life?

Like an exercise plan, a plan of action is necessary, and starting with small steps can be an effective way to begin implementing change.

For example, you could start with car parking. The level of angst we carry over shopping centre car parking is unhealthy and bewildering. Think of the benefits to our cardiovascular system and overall frame of mind, if we choose to park in the most distant (and least busy) space.

Another approach is to decide to be content with a long wait for a car park. Adopting this frame of mind initially, and choosing to resist any rising frustration, will make a significant difference for your emotional health in that situation – and that of those in the car with you.

Once you have mastered that situation, you'll realise that change is possible – and you can choose another context in which to adopt a positive attitude.

Life is too short anyway. Cultivating emotional health may not only lengthen our years but make them more enjoyable. It's a simple and completely free way to turn back time – even the Death Clock.

Challenge of hard times brings out the best of us

2008-12-26T15:57:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 26 Dec 08

Every so often, something happens which causes you to once again become acutely aware of the incredible potential for good that resides within the human heart. This last week has provided plenty of those opportunities.

As stories of economic uncertainty swirl around us, one could almost understand if charitable activity was down. However, it seems that many Australians share an inherent desire to help out ‘the least of these’ and lend a hand to those hit by hard times.

While the demand for charitable assistance has certainly increased over the past few months, I have been encouraged at the corresponding increase in those willing to help. Having spent a good many years mobilizing volunteers at this time of year, I would even suggest that people have been more willing to lend a hand this year.

Hard times often jolt us out of complacency and remind us that we don’t find fulfillment in what we can get, but in what we can give. The news reports we are hearing have the effect of re-orientating us, and when times get tough, we pull together.

For example, over the last three weeks a steady stream of people, of all ages and situations, have been coming in to our office with arms loaded up with gifts, beautifully wrapped and chosen with love.

They have been supporting Angel tree, a charitable Christmas initiative of Prison Fellowship. Prisoners are able to suggest gifts for their children, and volunteers buy and deliver the presents to children on behalf of their incarcerated parent. The difference such an act can make both in the life of the child and their parent is significant.

Encouragingly, there has been no shortage of people helping to make a difference in the lives of others. Even if there is a little less discretionary income around, people have been more than happy to cut back in some way so they can participate. Some have taken time off work to deliver gifts. There is a very real sense of people wanting to give what they can to help others.

Christmas is the Christian celebration of a gift of Jesus Christ. However it seems to remind all of us, not just Christians, of the joy of giving. We remember again that generosity enriches not just the receiver, but also the giver. While it can happen everyday, Christmas is a focused time of generosity and giving.

In addition to Angel Tree, we have been organizing people to volunteer at a local shopping centre, helping to put the spirit back into Christmas through caroling, free gift-wrapping and random acts of giving. Again, I have been privileged to see busy people giving their time to help others.

Even those who are experiencing their own challenges have risen to the opportunity to help the community. One gracious and generous lady was made redundant, so came in to see me to do some more volunteering. She explained that helping others was better than feeling sorry for herself. She’s been gift wrapping up a storm, creating her own silver lining in dark circumstances.

One young man was given the news that his family’s long awaited holiday had to be cancelled due to ill health of a family member. Undeterred he came in and signed up for almost two whole weeks of volunteering at the local shopping centre which he had been going to be away for. This was his holiday.

A father, separated from his children this Christmas, stood beside me and spent 4 hours cutting paper to wrap gifts which were going to other children.

A lady, whose house was made inhabitable in the recent storms, signed up to participate in our community work but then got a second part-time job. Instead of cancelling her volunteer efforts, she has been doing her shift at work, and then coming straight over to volunteer.

This year I certainly saw Christmas in the decorations at shopping centres, in the presents under the tree and in the way church attendance swells at Christmas time.

However I also saw Christmas in the quiet and often unseen actions of Australians who chose to live out the values of Christmas. They gave of their finances and time to help their fellow man – a truly wise and wonderful way to live.

As American writer John Greenleaf Whittier said, “For somehow, not only at Christmas, but all the long year through, the joy that you give to others is the joy that comes back to you.”

Christmas may be behind us now, and our thoughts are turning toward the New Year. It’s the prefect time to reaffirm our desire and intention to give joy to each other, even in small ways, each and every day.

Shining a light on the true star

2008-12-26T15:55:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 16 Dec 08

Some are hailing it a Christmas miracle. Others think it is a Christmas disaster. The Christmas star has been found – but at the wrong time of year!

Last week, Dave Reneke, an Australian astronomer and news editor of Sky and Space magazine, said astronomers have been able to harness modern technology and complex software to chart what the night sky would have looked like more than 2000 years ago.

According to Reneke, these charts show a spectacular planetary conjunction, which would have appeared as a star to lead the wise men to the baby Jesus.

The catch? The precise nature of astronomy has allowed them to pinpoint the date of Jesus’ birth, and they’re saying it was June 17.

So is this a Christmas miracle? A scientific verification of the historical biblical account could be an encouragement to those who accept the validity of the narrative.

Is this a Christmas disaster? The fact that we celebrate six months away from the date of Christ’s birth could make it seem irrelevant or misinformed and cast a pall over celebrations.

Or perhaps it doesn’t really matter? After all, when we celebrate Christmas, we are celebrating the birth of Christ, and the person is more important than the day of the year. The life and values of Christ are intrinsically embedded into much of our society, more than we often realize or admit.

HG Wells said of Jesus, “I am an historian, I am not a believer, but I must confess as a historian that this penniless preacher from Nazareth is irrevocably the very centre of history. Jesus Christ is easily the most dominant figure in all history.”

The values of His life are values that we need to be continually reminded of. Values such as generosity, faith, hope and love bring meaning and purpose to lives that are often caught up in the cycle of consumerism and self-centredness.

Values such as dignity for the marginalized and poor are an important reminder to those of us who may be feeling the economic pinch, yet who are still comparatively amongst the richest people in the world.

Even the sense of wonder that Christmas brings with it is important for weary souls, tired from the stresses and trials of life.

As we embody and live out the values of Christmas, we can bring substantive change to the world we inhabit – in large ways and small.

Large ways can be extravagant acts of generosity– such as a young couple I know who sold up and moved to a developing nation to build a home for orphans. They now house and care for 32 children, as well as their two biological children. Small ways can be maintaining peace and calm during crazy Christmas shopping – with enough charity to offer a smile to other harried shoppers.

The actual date of the birth of Christ is less important than the message of His birth, and the values it communicates. Let's reclaim these values this Christmas - for they can sustain us all throughout the year.

Let's all celebrate some common sense for once

2008-12-26T15:53:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 8 Dec 08

SUPPLYING a cache of alcohol to your children for Schoolies and Christmas parties has all sorts of unintended consequences. Let's all celebrate some common sense for once.

We don't make it easy for parents, do we? Here we are, glamorising alcohol, conveying that a celebration is not a celebration without it.

We let alcohol companies sponsor major sporting events and effectively market pre-mix to young people. And then we ask Mum and Dad to enforce the legislation regarding underage drinking with their children!

It's not just children who are subject to peer pressure. I'm sure parents have heard, "But my mate's mum is buying him alcohol for Schoolies!" or, "But my mate's mum lets him drink at Christmas parties!" more times than they care to count.
However, for those who have children entering Year 12 next year, and those of you who are coming under pressure to let your underage teenagers splurge this Christmas party season, please realise your decisions can have a huge influence on the partying your child does.

As a volunteer at Schoolies, my first impression was that there seemed to be a lot less alcohol around this year. It was a promising start and I'm happy to say many of those young people escaped the week with little more than a headache and some sunburn.

It was the others I remember, though. In the rooms where large quantities of alcohol (supplied by parents) were, we saw very different situations. I remember the young woman who we discovered on the floor of the bathroom, arms cut up and surrounded by blood. Her apartment was littered with pre-mixes and bottles of spirits. She'd had more than 10 sexual partners in the previous few alcohol-soaked days. The emotional fallout of that led to the self-harm and suicidal thoughts. While we were able to get paramedics to attend and help treat her physical injuries, the wounds to her soul will take much much longer to heal.

The sexually transmitted diseases which she may have been exposed to may have permanent consequences.

Then there was the young woman who spent hours crying as she realised she'd had an unplanned and unwanted sexual encounter while drunk. As she was sobering up, the full horror of what had transpired dawned on her and she was distraught.

A young man, after several days drinking, was feeling overwhelmed by memories of an ex-girlfriend. Influenced by the depressive effects of alcohol, he contemplated suicide. He had climbed over the balcony, and was ready to jump before volunteers brought him back in and made sure he was taken care of.

The last night, again in a room filled with bottles of spirits and cans of vodka and soda, we came upon a young woman very drunk, very distraught and self-harming. We called the paramedics, removed the razor blades and other sharp implements and waited, trying to calm and care for her.

Large amounts of alcohol in a Schoolies environment is a dangerous mix. Australian research shows that adolescents are less likely to binge-drink if their parents actively disapprove of such behaviour, while they are likely to drink more if parents have a permissive attitude.

It may make for some difficult conversations and tantrums in the lead-up to Schoolies, but the alternative can be far, far worse.

Danger in Fiction Of Creation

2008-12-01T14:23:00.002+10:00

Published 26 November in the Courier Mail

LAW changes could risk a birth certificate's most vital role, which is to list a child's biological parents.
Flicking on the television the other night, I found myself watching a heart-warming show called Find My Family.
The program tracks down and brings together family members who have never known one another, often because of an adoption.

The show's web page says: "So many Australians have grown up without a mother, father, brother or sister, and often that absence leaves a gaping hole in their identity. On Find My Family, long-lost loved ones are reunited and that hole is filled with tears of joy."

They're right about the tears of joy – including from those of us watching at home.
The other night, as a young woman discovered she had several brothers and sisters, she described the feeling of part of her having been missing for all of her life.
Growing up, and not knowing her father or siblings, left her adrift, unsure of who she was or where she belonged.

Personal stories are powerful and moving. And they have been well used in the lobbying surrounding The Assisted Reproductive Technology Bill in Victoria. Senator Stephen Conroy, a Rudd Government minister, used the power of story – or to be more precise, his daughter's story.

The Assisted Reproductive Technology Bill, which recently narrowly passed its second reading in the Victorian Parliament, would change surrogacy arrangements and give single women and same-sex couples greater access to IVF.
This is an issue close to Conroy as he and his wife used surrogacy in Sydney to become parents to their daughter, Isabella.

Significantly for Queensland, the Victorian legislation closely mirrors many of the recommendations of the Queensland Parliament's Investigation into Altruistic Surrogacy Committee.
The introduction of similar legislation in Queensland would be highly likely, although perhaps not until after the next state election.

The Assisted Reproductive Technology Bill, as well as allowing IVF and surrogacy for single women and same-sex couples, also would introduce significant changes to birth certificates.
This includes changes to the designation of parentage on birth certificates, replacing mother and father with Parent 1 and Parent 2, and allowing two men or two women to be nominated and listed as parents.

And this is where most thinking people shake their heads. With the simplest lesson in biology telling us that two people of the same gender can't make a baby, it is appalling to think our governments would even consider issuing birth certificates listing a biological impossibility – two same-sex parents.

A birth certificate is a legal document and should not be a statement of social engineering, or even a tool for advocates of legal recognition of same-sex relationships. It should be designed to list the biological parents of a child.

Dr Sarah Ferber, from The University of Queensland, said: "In all cases children should have the right to know who gave birth to them and whose gametes were used. This is of great emotional, social and medical importance. The Government is so far lamentably behind in ensuring these rights for children born through the ARTs."

In his submission to the Queensland committee, Dr Trevor Jordan, a senior lecturer in Applied Ethics at QUT, referred to the scenario of "legal fiction" of birth certificates.

One would hope that governments, trusted to protect citizens, particularly the vulnerable, would not be intentionally allowing for the creation of "legal fiction". This would seem very dangerous territory. Will a class action suit arise in the future from children who reach adulthood and realise the government, charged with protecting them, in fact denied them the truth about their biological parents?

We all know good and caring people who desperately want to be parents, and for whatever reason, find that dream eludes them. However, as compelling as their stories are, they should not drive us to neglect the rights of children so that society can facilitate their desire to be a parent.

When discussing surrogacy and parenting, the paramount issue to be considered must be the best interests of the child, as opposed to how society can make possible the fulfilment of an adult's desire to be a parent. Denying a child's right to a mother and father is denial of a basic right for a child.

In the Queensland committee's report, they explain: "As trends in adoption, deferred family formation and infertility appear persistent, it seems sensible for the Government to create an environment that maximises the possibility for success and happiness for families created through altruistic surrogacy."

Perhaps. Or perhaps the Government should be most concerned with creating an environment that maximises the success and happiness for children – one where legislation has not facilitated a gaping hole in their identity.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Reflect on Hannah's reality

2008-11-13T16:06:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 12 November 2008

We live in a complicated world and every so often, we come across a story that causes us to stop and reflect. This week, the report about 13-year-old Hannah Jones was one such story.

Hannah has been described as the girl who won the right to die at home. This description is a little disingenuous and unfortunate in the current ethical climate.

Such a description carries overtones of concepts about end-of-life decisions such as euthanasia. But this is not what Hannah has asked for, nor what she has been granted.

In fact, what Hannah has been granted is what you or I have at any time, which is the right to say no to more medical intervention.

So it is a little misleading, however unintentional, to describe it as otherwise.

The reported circumstances of Hannah's life are as follows: She has spent much of the past eight years undergoing medical treatment after being diagnosed with leukemia and cardiomyopathy when she was five. The treatment regime she was given early in her diagnosis caused a hole in her heart. Subsequent treatment involved a range of drugs and she was fitted with a pacemaker last year, which included another seven-month stay in hospital.

Medical staff have informed Hannah that the only option for a possible long-term solution would be a heart transplant. However, the risky surgery could kill her, as well as make her susceptible to the return of leukemia due to the weakening of her immune system.

After discussing the possible benefits and consequences of surgery, Hannah and her parents decided not to go through with the surgery and to return home. This will mean she will be able to spend time with her family as her body is allowed to follow its natural course, eventually ending in her death.

Her mother, an intensive-care nurse, would seem well-placed to care for Hannah during this time.

However, the Hereford Hospital and Herefordshire Primary Care Trust threatened to apply for a High Court order to admit Hannah to hospital. Why it did so is unclear.

While the reasons behind that may be illuminating for this discussion, the trust has not yet made public comment.

Therefore, we cannot really discuss the response, in the sense that intricacies of this case are unknown, and we cannot posture why medical authorities would have tried to force this young girl into this difficult and high-risk surgery. One would think it a little unusual for a public hospital to increase demand on its surgical load without a good reason.

But in the midst of this perplexing situation, we should not let this conversation be clouded with the end-of-life emotions always bubbling near the surface of social commentary these days.

Death is not a right we can invoke. It is an inescapable condition and one we will all face. Some of us will face death in an instant and some of us will be given warning. But it is a shared experience – common to all humanity – old and young.

It seems Hannah and her family have reached the point where they no longer wish to fight off death, and are willing to accept its inevitability, allowing it naturally to unfold.

They will require the support of family and friends. They will be best served by practical care and compassion. They will need to grieve for the loss they will all face. And in the midst of this sadness, they will need those around them who can bring a message of love and hope.

Hope in the midst of death is too often an uncommon concept. By allowing science to be a master, rather than a tool, society has allowed life to be essentially reduced to mere matter.

Further, in contemporary Western society, it often seems the only answer we hold out to people in matters of life and death is a medical one.

I trust that as Hannah and her family reach the end of medical assistance, they rediscover the essence of life, even in the shadow of death.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

Toying with our Moral Compass

2008-10-29T18:10:00.005+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 29 October 2008

HEAVENS knows we need a good laugh at the moment, with the Australian banking and finance sectors trying to grapple with the effects of the bank deposit guarantee scheme, and the world being reshaped by economic forces.

So I'd like to think Harry Jenkins' recent remarks were just trying to lighten the mood. After all, his comments would be great for a laugh – if he wasn't being serious.

Jenkins, Speaker of the House of Representatives in Federal Parliament, would have us believe that the pressing issue people outside of Parliament wish to discuss at the moment is the Lord's Prayer. Or more specifically, whether it is recited at the opening of Parliament.

Jenkins was reported as saying: "One of the most controversial aspects of the parliamentary day I found, from practically day two, is the prayer. On the one end of the spectrum is why have a prayer? The other end of the spectrum is where we have discussions about the words of the prayer. For people outside the Parliament there are a lot of things they wish to discuss."

I confess I find it hard to believe that the wider population of Australia really finds the recitation of the Lord's Prayer so controversial, particularly as 74 per cent of Australians believe in God.

I wondered whether it was the values represented by the Lord's Prayer that were causing such controversy for these mysterious "people outside Parliament".

It's true that Australia lives within a framework of principles and norms that are based largely upon a Judaeo-Christian world view. Many of the qualities we hold so dear – such as care for the poor, equality of all peoples and the golden rule, are sourced from this world view. Corporate social responsibility and environment stewardship flow from it. A prayer which represents such values surely couldn't be "one of the most controversial aspects of the parliamentary day".

So perhaps it is less the values, and more the very idea of a god to whom we would pray, that is the essence of the controversy.

Certainly, there is a small percentage of the population – about 9 per cent – who think that we are all there is and who eschew the idea of a god. While they are in a minority, they often seem to revel in loudly reacting against many of our founding values and principles, and often against the thought of God. Antitheism is often seen as a safe harbour for individuals with a desire to live apart from a sense of responsibility to a higher being.

However, proponents of antitheism often avoid extrapolating the social implications of such a philosophy. After all, it wouldn't be pretty. As Dostoevsky said: "If God is dead, everything is justifiable." If we are looking for controversy, the idea of a Parliament where everything is justifiable delivers that perfectly.

I trust Jenkins' pronouncement was more an act of distraction during inconvenient fallout from recent financial policy, as opposed to a serious political statement. If it was the latter, let's hope he never finds himself up the proverbial creek without a paddle – or he'll be well and truly without a prayer.

Global View gives true picture of wealth

2008-10-05T21:31:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 2 October 2008
THE headlines really have been a little depressing. Looming economic meltdowns. Tumbling stockmarkets. Talks of bailout packages worth hundreds of billions. Australian shares are moving into the red. The Aussie dollar is getting weaker.

For those of us who haven't really experienced a period of economic downturn in our own working lives, the future seems unknown, untested and a little unnerving.

We have had it good for a long time, and we have become accustomed to it. If you go for a walk at night, you can almost find your way home by the glow of large-screen televisions emanating from living rooms throughout the suburbs.

We are a lucky country. And no one really wants to see that change. There will be pain for people as the world's economy continues the roller-coaster ride of late.

A friend who works in the finance and share-trading industry went to work last week to find half of his team had been told at close of business the day before not to return as they were no longer required.

That's troubling, particularly for those people and their families. And compassion, support and encouragement will be needed.

So, in the midst of of this, it's a good time to take stock of what we do have. Australians are seeing their wealth shrink on the stockmarket, but we are still, in fact, very wealthy. For while our economy seems to be suffering from the global happenings, our personal wealth far exceeds many in our global village.

For a reality check, head to a website which uses figures from the World Bank Development Research Group.

It's called Global Rich List (www.globalrichlist.com), and allows you to enter in your annual income, to find out where you fit in comparison with the rest of the world's population.

Did you realise, that on a salary of $25,000, you are in the top 10.99 per cent of the world's richest people? If you are on $60,000 a year, you are in the top 0.98 per cent of the world's richest people.
This is a simple way of looking at complex issues, but it does bring some perspective to us which is helpful.

So often, we look at our wealth in comparison with those who earn more than us. Last week it was reported we now have 172,000 Australian millionaires, and have seen a 10 per cent increase in ``ultra-rich'' Australians -- those who have more than $36 million in assets and bank deposits excluding their primary homes.

Your average Australian can feel a little, well, poor when they read that and compare. But when you discover the average Australian income places you in the top 3.64 per cent of the richest people in the world, you realise we are very fortunate people.

In a small box toward the bottom of The Global Rich List we read the following: ``Three decades ago, the people in well-to-do countries were 30 times better off than those in countries where the poorest 20 per cent of the world's people live. By 1998, this gap had widened to 82 times.''

It's a reminder of just how much we have. And it's a challenge as to what we should do with the relative wealth we have.

In the coming months or years, we may need to cut back, simplify or downsize. We may need to learn the fine art of delayed gratification and live within our means.

But as we face what may be difficult times ahead, remembering how fortunate we really are can help us adapt with a more positive attitude.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and author.

Honesty truly makes life simpler

2008-09-28T12:31:00.003+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 24 September 2008

IF YOU did it in the past week, then you're in good company. Several high-profile Australians appear to have been caught out doing it in recent times.

I'm talking about lying; telling a fib, a little white lie, fudging the truth.

The list of euphemisms we use to describe this practice can sometimes seem endless and the practice of such can seem widespread.

In fact, it is almost expected some professions will indulge in some stretching of the truth.

Dishonesty is a practice that most people would agree is less than desirable - particularly when we are the victims. No one wants to be on the receiving end of dishonesty and most of us would still subscribe to the adage that honesty is the best policy.

Honesty makes for a much simpler life - with much less stress. If you always tell the truth, you never have to worry about what version of events you told the person you will see soon. You never have to keep several stories straight. You never have to do the mental gymnastics that would be required if you were trying to cover up certain events with certain people.

That's reason enough to live truthful lives, really. Considering the busy lives we lead, who wants to be investing the emotional and mental energy needed to cover up dishonesty?

It's even becoming increasingly apparent that honesty also makes good business sense. After all, reputation matters.

This is increasingly the case in a wireless and connected world. If you put the name of a potential business partner or employee into Google, you can soon discover whether there are questionable aspects of their reputation of which you need to be wary.

Richard M. White, in his book The Entrepreneur's Manual, demonstrated through a survey of venture capitalists that the single most important characteristic that a serial entrepreneur needs to possess is honesty.

With such easy and broad transfer of information now available by way of the internet, those who wish to stay in business, and continue building successful ventures, must be honest.

They must earn and maintain trustworthiness or people will stop doing business with them.

In a world that often celebrates charisma over character and fame over fortitude, we are still much more likely to do business with someone we can trust.

We find it easier to leave our money and futures with those who are honest in all things. As Albert Einstein said: "Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with the important matters."

In fact, without honesty, societies and communities fragment and disintegrate. And, while each of us may feel that our situation is the exception, each of us needs to be a part of building and strengthening the social cohesion.

Individual actions make up the bigger whole. George Washington had it right when he said: "I hope I shall possess firmness and virtue enough to maintain what I consider the most enviable of all titles, the character of an honest man."

It's an enviable title indeed and one we can all recommit ourselves to.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and author

Decision Under Duress

2008-09-12T11:14:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 10 September 2008

I still remember when we signed the contract to buy our house.

We had a short time-frame to find a place, as we had to leave our rental property sooner than expected.

It is a big decision to buy a house.

As I signed the paperwork, excitement mingled with fear.

I was thankful for the cooling-off period as I could always extricate myself from the situation if I changed my mind.

Big decisions are like that.

Their very gravity energises yet also emotionally clouds the decision-making process.

Add an element of duress to the decision and it is a complex financial and emotional situation.

That's why cooling-off periods are so important.

Governments recognise this and ensure the protection of their citizens from those who would profit from them.

So I am wondering why the Victorian Government seems reluctant to afford this same protection to women for whom they are supposed to be governing?

Women with an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy have to make a very big decision.

The situation they are faced with is often financially, emotionally and socially difficult.

Duress, including the loss of career, the disapproval of a spouse, partner or parent, or any number of other factors combines to make this a very difficult context in which to make a decision.

However, in new legislation drafted by the Victorian Law Reform Commission, which would remove abortion from the state's Crimes Act, any sense of protection for women, even from doctors for whom abortion is their livelihood, seems missing.

If that seems a naive statement, consider the following.

Professor David Fergusson, a self-described atheist and rationalist, published the results of research in the Journal of Child Psychiatry and Psychology in January 2006.

The study revealed that 42 per cent of women who had abortions had experienced depression in the past four years, which was almost twice the percentage of those who had never become pregnant.

Further, the research concluded that: "Those having an abortion had elevated rates of subsequent mental health problems, including depression, anxiety, suicidal behaviours and substance-use disorders. This association persisted after adjustment for confounding factors."

Fergusson, himself pro-choice, has stated these findings "tipped the balance of scientific evidence towards the conclusion that abortion increased psychological distress rather than alleviated it".

So when Victorian Liberal leader Ted Baillieu, who recently stated that the decriminalisation of abortion was an issue "very much dear to the hearts of a lot of Victorian women", I agree with him.

But not for the reason he would expect.

I think it should be an issue very dear to the hearts of many Victorian women because the proposed legislation is effectively placing them in a very vulnerable state.

The abortion debate, which we never seem to officially have as a nation, has moved well beyond pitting a woman against her child.

It has moved well past emotive images of women waving coat hangers demanding safe abortions.

Abortion is truly becoming a woman's health issue, as more and more evidence-based research is showing the detriment of abortion on the wellbeing and health of women.

One wonders why legislators and women's advocates often seem so reluctant to discuss such findings in the public sphere.

Why, when a government should be protecting its female citizens, and the medical profession has a duty to do no harm, are we propagating old arguments and unwilling to engage with the issue truly at hand?

This change in legislation will mean a woman, who may be in distress and under duress, will make a potentially harmful decision with only a doctor who, incidentally, will profit financially from her having an abortion.

It seems criminal really.

Maybe Ted Baillieu should consider that?

This concern is magnified when you realise most abortions in Victoria take place in private clinics, which by nature are businesses and must make a profit.

The number of issues that should, by rights, be thoroughly discussed and considered in relation to abortion is many.

The widespread community discomfort with the number of abortions happening in Australia is one.

Whether women have adequate information to make informed consent is another.

The morality and ethical implications of ending the life of a child in utero is another.

The health implication of abortion for women is another.

With all of these issues patently unanswered to any level of community satisfaction, one wonders why the Brumby Government is pursuing this agenda – abortion up to 24 weeks for any reason, and after 24 weeks based on physical, psychological and social circumstances.

It's no longer good enough to use old rhetoric when new evidence is at hand, even if the new evidence is uncomfortable or inconvenient.

Women deserve better – much better – than that.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

A Test of Courage - winner of the 2008 Margaret Dooley Award

2008-09-12T11:06:00.003+10:00

Published in Eureka St Magazine

'Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.' Count Vittorio Alfieri may have written these words over 200 years ago, but they ring just as true today in an Australia seemingly seduced by death.

In March, Senator Bob Brown introduced a private senator's bill into federal parliament to repeal the Euthanasia Laws Act 1997, thereby allowing territories to legalise euthanasia. Then, in April, the former Lord Mayor of Brisbane, Clem Jones, left a bequest of $5 million to fund a campaign for the legalisation of euthanasia.

Next, in May, Victorian Greens MP, Colleen Hartland, put forward a private members bill to introduce 'voluntary euthanasia'.

These pieces of legislation, and the accompanying commentary, are often framed in terms of compassion and dignity. Opponents of euthanasia, or the oft-used palatable euphemisms such as mercy killing or death with dignity, are accused of being heartless and cruel.

Yet how many of us take the time to listen beyond media-friendly sound bites, and really engage with what may be one of the gravest, yet most subtly redefining issues of modern humanity? We fail the generations that follow if we shy away from the courageous examination of the issues at play in this current debate.

We must examine the notion of choice. Those in the pro-euthanasia movements often speak of euthanasia as a choice, and demand that every Australian be given the choice to end their life. However, there is an intrinsic flaw to this suggestion. To say that euthanasia is a choice denies the fact that the decision to end your life is rarely made apart from factors that place immense pressure on the individual.

For public debate to have integrity we must acknowledge that an often unspoken, yet powerful, influence in decisions relating to euthanasia is fear. Whether it is fear of pain, fear of losing physical or mental control, or fear of being a 'burden' to family, this fear is powerfully persuasive. And fear makes you vulnerable.

Ending your life is rarely, if ever, a decision made by those who are free from encumbrances. The decision to kill oneself is only ever made by those, or for those, who are vulnerable in some way — physically, mentally or emotionally.

While conversations about euthanasia are puzzlingly divorced from community dialogue on suicide, it is instructive for us to consider the broad issues that affect both subjects.

Author Edwin Schniedman, who studied suicide for nearly 50 years, said, 'Nearing the end of my career in suicidology, I think I can now say what has been on my mind in as few as five words: Suicide is caused by psychache.' Schniedman went on to describe psychache as the 'pain of excessively felt shame, or guilt, or humiliation, or loneliness, or fear, or angst, or dread of growing old, or of dying badly, or whatever'.

Fear, angst, dying badly — a psychological climate eerily similar to the one that affects those who would consider euthanasia. Such a climate makes incredulous the suggestion that a terminally ill person is capable of making a dispassionate choice, free from fear or pressure. The notion of choice is so clouded with uncertainty that it is almost powerless as a reason to support euthanasia.

Further, we must also engage with the idea behind euthanasia. We often treat euthanasia as simply a medical issue, and discuss issues including terminal disease, pain management, and palliative care. However, euthanasia, at its heart, is not primarily a medical question. Euthanasia is a values question.

Our social ethic no longer considers human life as having intrinsic value, but as something we can throw away at will. The idea behind euthanasia is that human life has no inherent, sacred value but is rather like a commodity to be used. Therefore, if we are to seriously engage with this issue, and protect the vulnerable, we must understand the cultural conditions that have allowed this to take root.

Within Judeo-Christian cultures, murder has always been considered wrong. This was because we considered life a gift from a creator God; hence it also was regarded as his alone to take. Civil governments were charged with keeping order, and passed laws that made the taking of a human life a criminal act. This was an absolute we all agreed on — the rules of play, if you like.

However, as we have embraced moral relativism and cast off any sense of responsibility to a higher power, such as a Judeo-Christian ethic brings, we have set ourselves up as the final arbiters of life — and of death.

The ramifications of such a change in worldview are crystallised in the words of Pieter Admiraal, a former Dutch anesthetist, who became one of Holland's leading campaigners for euthanasia. He said:

In 50 years time, you will see euthanasia accepted all over the world. It will be used with patients suffering from Alzheimer's who are otherwise kept alive for five or ten years. The time will come when we say that this costs money, and if you are demented for one year, we will kill you. I see it not as the answer to the growing elderly population but as the exercise of the right of self-determination.

In the philosophical world inhabited by the likes of Admiraal, the value of human beings is assessed against their 'quality of life' — a seemingly benign yet ultimately abhorrent phrase. This phrase, which is used as a replacement for 'sanctity of life', is oxygenated by this idea that life has no inherent value but is defined in terms of its usefulness.

This ethical leap, from life being a gift that we have a responsibility to protect, to life being a commodity to use at will, has staggering implications.

England's Baroness Mary Warnock, a medical ethics expert in Britain, expressed these implications in an interview with the London Sunday Times. Warnock explained that it is better for elderly people to kill themselves than to be a burden on their families and society. 'I don't see what is so horrible about the motive of not wanting to be an increasing nuisance,' she said.

Warnock's views are unusually confronting in their brutal honesty and assessment of the place of the vulnerable in our society. However, they are eminently logical if one follows the line of thought that euthanasia advocates lead us down. Surprise at Warnock's comments only comes from the fact that these views are expressed in raw terms of consequential action, rather than obscured by gentler sounding terms such as dignity and choice.

Finally, one of the deeply sobering, yet rarely examined, consequences of the euthanasia debate is the notion of dignity and its implications for those with disabilities.

The redefining of dignity, and the concept that some of the processes of dying are inherently undignified, has, in effect, passed judgement, not upon the death of some, but upon the life of many. The value judgements behind 'dying with dignity' are actually highly offensive to those with physical or mental disabilities, and who have to live each day with the symptoms that euthanasia advocates deem 'undignified'.

In a ruling against a request for someone to be allowed to 'die with dignity' the Alaskan Supreme Court explained this concept:

Unlike the concept of pain, the concepts of 'dignity' and 'degradation' are expressions of prevailing social norms. As Professor Peter Hammer has said, '... dignity is inherently a relational concept, defining the person with respect to her community'.

Thus, feelings of indignity or degradation are not caused directly by terminal illness. Rather, they are caused by the community's reactions to the disabilities that accompany terminal illness or by the patient's expectation of adverse community reaction.

In Professor Hammer's words, '...feelings of indignity are largely fears of rejection by our community'. Two of the most important fears of rejection that accompany the dying process are the fear of violating social norms related to incontinence and the fear of violating social norms related to dependence on others.

Men and women around Australian have to live every day with physical limitations such as incontinence and dependence on others. When the pro-euthanasia movement advocates death as a far better option than living in such a state, they make horrific comment about the status of people with disabilities. Such a stance is not only highly offensive, but is cruel and lacking in compassion.

The late Dutch euthanasia opponent, Dr. Karl Gunning said, 'Once killing is seen as the answer to one problem, it soon becomes the answer to 100'. Therefore, we cannot afford to abandon even one person to the false notions of choice, to the commodification of human life and to the redefinition of dignity that euthanasia embodies.

Medical funding and training for effective pain management and palliative care is essential if society wishes to offer a comprehensive and compassionate response to suffering. However, Australia also needs courageous voices that advocate, truly, for the terminally ill. Often the test of courage is not to stay silent but to speak out.

Ruth Limkin

Pregnancy delivers start of unfortunate legacy

2008-08-25T20:08:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 31 July 2008

TRACY Lagondino grew up in Hawaii with her parents and two brothers and, like many girls I know, enjoyed playing with her brothers and going fishing.

Tragically, when she was just 12 years old, her mother committed suicide. Several years later, Tracy started to experience puberty -- a confusing and emotional time for any young girl, but particularly so for one whose mother had taken her own life.

Recounting this time, she remembers, ``I started to grow breasts, and it was kind of a shock to me because I didn't have my mother around. I was just used to catching footballs and balls, and so it hurt. I just kind of thought, `What's my body going through? Is it betraying me?' ''

The way she chose to resolve such conflicting emotions had her in the news recently, although she is now called Thomas and is legally identified as a man. While this is not news in itself, it certainly became so when she, as a he, became pregnant.

Much of the commentary has been focused on a ``man'' being pregnant. However, there has been little discussion on the bigger issue of womanhood and what makes a woman -- or a man.

What is incredible in this situation is not that a man was pregnant and gave birth, but that someone we have allowed to be legally identified as male was pregnant.

Women who have to undergo double mastectomies, due to cancer, are strongly reassured that their womanhood is not defined by their breasts. So it seems incongruous that Tracy was able to do little more than remove her breasts and take male hormones, and be legally defined as male. Surely we realise there is a serious disconnect when we allow someone to retain female reproductive organs and become pregnant, and still be legally recognised as a man?

The popular narrative of gender and sexuality favours self-determination. Gender identity disorder is a complex psychological condition. Ethical concerns regarding surgical treatment, or ``gender-reassignment'', are discarded in favour of the path of least resistance. No one wants to dare mention that perhaps we may have got it wrong. But what if we have? And what legacy does that leave?

While Tracy's life was thrown into so much turmoil by her mother's actions, the child born to Tracy, or Thomas, will have an incredibly difficult set of emotional and social scenarios to work through.

Children are being caught up in the agendas of those who wish to promulgate a new social order, where materialism and self-determination reign. Anonymous donor sperm, leaving children legally fatherless, is one. A woman, now legally defined as a man, yet keeping her female reproductive organs and giving birth is another. Speaking with Oprah in April, Tracy -- or Thomas -- said: ``I feel it's not a male or female desire to have a child. It's a human need. I'm a person and I have the right to have a biological child.''

However, children are not a right. They are a responsibility. The moment they become a commodity to ``make us happy'' or to ``claim our rights'', or are treated as the unwanted by-product of sexual freedom, then we become deceived by selfishness. Sadly, the consequences of this will most heavily be carried by the next generation.

Growing up emotionally healthy can be a challenge for anyone. Living in a world where the person who gave birth to you is legally your father adds emotionally laden and complex issues no child should have to navigate through. It seems American society and law has failed this child. Of course, that would never happen in Australia. Would it?

Ruth Limkin

Find a better way for Gender-swap girl

2008-06-04T17:01:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 3 June 08

TEENAGE years are downright difficult to negotiate, so I was amazed at the court ruling to allow a 12-year-old to begin a sex change.

The Victorian Family Court gave a 12-year-old-girl the green light to begin early treatment for a sex change. While surgical intervention won't occur until the child reaches 18, hormone treatment, which would suppress menstruation and other physical changes, has been allowed.

Gender identity disorder is a complex condition. Described as a mismatch between a person's perception of their body and their actual body, the individual rejects their biological sex. They are said to be "trapped in the wrong body". It is treated as a psychiatric condition but in recent times medical or surgical solutions have been explored.

While there's no denying the distress experienced by a person with gender identity disorder, medically altering one's sex is not always the best option. Other forms of mental and emotional distress caused by a distorted perception of the body anorexia nervosa is an example are not treated as if the sufferer's perception is reality. Instead, health professionals work to help patients change their body perception.

So if this young girl of 12, who cannot be named, perceives her body is wrong, should not health professionals work to help her come to a place of mental and emotional acceptance about her body?

This child is clearly in distress and needs support and medical treatment, yet aspects of the court's decision give cause for concern. One of these is the involvement of her parents. There is obviously a difficult family background here. Her mother, who supported the application for the sex change, is alleged to have consistently voiced her desire that the child should have been born a boy. A bitter break-up between her parents is said to have spurred the sex-change request. Reports by a family member also suggest her father, who lives in Queensland, opposed the court application. He had employed legal representation but his psychiatrist was unable to gain access to speak with the girl. Having run out of money, he was unable to send legal representation to the hearing. That alone must sit uncomfortably with parents across the nation.

Of far greater concern were comments by the state-appointed lawyer acting on behalf of the child. The lawyer said she considered the girl capable of making an informed decision about the sex-change procedure.

It seems irresponsible for an adult to suggest that a child of 12 is able to dispassionately weigh up the benefits and risks of such a decision.

When you are 12, society will not let you drive a car, buy alcohol, vote or consent to sexual activity. In fact, there are a great many things we do not allow 12-year-old children to do and with good reason. They are not emotionally or cognitively able or ready to make some decisions. The consequences of their actions are much heavier than they are able to, or should be asked to, bear.

Those who defend the court decision assert that surgical intervention is at least six years away, when the child turns 18. However, the court has allowed the girl to apply for a new birth certificate, passport and Medicare card in a boy's name.

So someone who is biologically female and anatomically female will carry legal documents representing her as a male. Are we really serving her best interests in allowing a mismatched perception of her self to continue?

My heart goes out to this child. She has experienced a breakdown in her family and has most likely suffered fallout from what appears to be a bitter relationship between her parents. It is not surprising that she dreads the onset of menstruation and puberty. Few girls look forward to it.

Yet the answer to her fear and confusion is not to add another layer of complexity.

Even for young people with highly functional families and a robust sense of self, navigating the teenage years can be difficult. Every young person deserves support and nurture, particularly scared and confused 12-year-olds.

In reality, sexual reassignment surgery does not change a person's biological sex. Neither does carrying an altered passport. It only serves to amplify a mismatch between perception and actual reality. There must be another way.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

Our condemnation condemns us

2008-05-12T22:39:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 12 May 08

I VISITED a women's prison for the first time last year.
As we drove around the corner towards it my stomach felt uneasy. It was an imposing and intimidating place and I experienced a mixture of emotions – apprehension, sadness, uncertainty.

I was with a small group of women who were visiting and working alongside one of the prison chaplains to conduct the chapel service.

We had submitted our security clearance forms months in advance, risen early in the morning to get there, and journeyed through the very many security clearance sections, filling out forms, being searched and walking along corridors as doors shut behind us.

We were to hold three services, including one for maximum security prisoners.

I'd be lying if I said I was confident how I would feel when I met these women. But I was not expecting how I was to feel when I walked away from the prison that day.

It is with great interest that I have read media reports and heard the public reaction over the past week regarding medical treatment for Valmae Beck and serial rapist Jeffrey William Voois. Their stories have led me to ponder my prison experience last year.

As a pastor, my job, my vocation, my calling causes me to reflect broadly on the human condition. Interacting with people, being exposed to crisis, pain and wrongdoing, I must think deeply, spiritually and practically as to how to respond. I see the best and worst in people and of people. And I am aware that the human condition is one common to all – including me.

When I left the prison that day, I walked away not with revulsion but with humility. I sensed that any one of those women's stories could have been mine – but for the grace of God.

What Beck and Voois did was deeply and horribly wrong and it is only right that such behaviour stirs us to anger. It is right that society condemns such behaviour in the strongest possible way. It is right that Beck and Voois are payng a high price for their actions.

It is right that they be incarcerated and receive the full penalty the law has determined. I affirm all of that. Yet much of what has been filling the airwaves has left me feeling uncomfortable.

We seem to be condemning the person, and not their behaviour. Suggesting we let Beck die without adequate medical treatment is pronouncing judgment on a person, not just what she has done. And that is a very, very dangerous position to be in as a society. The flawed logic behind this view condemns us to be victims of this behaviour.

Those who scream "Let her die" have not taken into account that people can change their behaviour. Leopards can change their spots.

This way of thinking leaves no room for redemption but consigns a perpetrator to a life of hopelessness. Society too becomes a place of hopelessness, for we will remain as victims of negative and destructive behaviour and will never be able to see positive change.

Either we are moral agents with free will who can choose to do wrong or to do right, or we are slaves to instinct, hormones and base desires. If we think it is only the types of behaviour that society currently deems abhorrent which cannot be changed, but other types can be, then we live in denial.

None of us is perfect. While we may not have murdered a child, we may have nursed murder in our heart as we have rehearsed vengeance, or harboured violent bitterness towards another. In the words of C.S. Lewis: "We are all fallen creatures and all very hard to live with."

Redemption is possible. It's possible for you, it's possible for me, and as hard as it is to comprehend, it's even possible for Beck and Voois. It is possible to save their souls.

And redemption is not an easy way out. It's an often painful journey. It requires an admission of wrongdoing and recognition of need. This is often, like with alcoholics and drug addicts, the most difficult part of the process.

We must create a society where the possibility of redemption is part of the public dialogue. It can only happen if we hold to the idea that our behaviour is ultimately a product of our choices, and does not define us, but can be changed.

Adlai Stevenson, an American politician and UN Ambassador, said: "Every age needs men who will redeem the time by living with a vision of the things that are to be."

When faced with an angry lynch mob, such a vision takes courage. Redemption always has.

Ruth Limkin

Build a healthy message of value

2008-05-12T22:36:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 28 April 08

READING the paper over coffee is lovely – except when you read something that makes you choke on your flat white.

The sudden inhalation of caffeine and subsequent spluttering and coughing occurred when I read comments by entrants into a bikini contest that were extolling the virtues of said contest and the empowerment they felt. More than a few perspectives on bikini contests popped into mind, yet none of them included women being empowered by them.

So while reading the news online last week, it was fortunate that I'd already finished my coffee when I discovered the latest addition to children's literature.

My Beautiful Mummy, written by Florida plastic surgeon Michael Salzhauer, details one mummy's trip to get a nose job, tummy tuck and breast augmentation. It's aimed at 4- to 7-year-olds and, according to the author, was written to help children understand what is happening when mummy comes home from hospital in bandages.

You can understand to a point. It's certainly true that a household is disrupted if mummy has to go to hospital. In fact, in many homes, if the mum has even a few days in bed with the flu, entire household routines self-destruct. Children can experience a variety of emotions if their sense of security and emotional safety is threatened and children's books can often provide a way to process and discuss these feelings.

These are the reported reasons that Salzhauer wrote My Beautiful Mummy. And perhaps his motivations were noble. However, what may have been sincere intentions are undone by the way he has framed this issue.

Reportedly, the mum in the book warns her daughter that "she will look different after the bandages come off". The girl asks: "Why are you going to look different?" Mum responds: "Not just different, my dear – prettier!"

Any child reading this book, or having it read to them, will come away with a very clear message that mummy's beauty is all about her straighter nose, flatter stomach and larger breasts. Inappropriate value is being placed on physical perfection and flawless looks. And all of this in a book aimed at 4- to 7-year-olds?

When bikini contestants claim empowerment, and My Beautiful Mummy suggests that beauty is only skin-deep, women – and it seems now children – are being taught that their value is summed up by how they look. Images of stars such as Pamela Anderson looking slim and glamorous, make the misconception more acceptable.

So strongly is this message coming through that young teenage women are trying to access non-medical cosmetic surgery at younger and younger ages. Discontent with their physical appearance is fuelled by unattainable, Photoshopped images promoted in the media and the answer seems to lie in a scalpel. To address this worrying trend, NSW has just overhauled legislation to ensure people who want non-medical cosmetic surgery have to wait until they are 18.

Yet this trend is understandable if you start to look at the messages being given to women. If mummy needs a nose job so that she can be prettier, does that mean mums who can't afford a nose job can't be beautiful?

These messages aren't just promoted by advertising companies but, sadly, are often reinforced by other women. The unsettling, but not altogether surprising report recently of the Big 21 club at a private school in Mackay is just one example where the top 21 prettiest girls in the school wore their rank, from 1-21, on their wrist. This destructive situation reinforces to the 21 girls in the club that their value or empowerment is based on how they look, not who they are. Further, one can only hope that there was good counsel available for girls who were excluded from the club as they were deemed "not pretty enough".

While Salzhauer is suggesting a plastic surgery solution for such dilemmas, a far healthier solution is a radical re-imagining of the measure of a woman.

A clue can be found in a quote by Evelyn Underhill when she said, "beauty is simply reality seen with the eyes of love".

We may have a slightly crooked nose – or a perfect nose. We may hate bikinis. We may also love them. In a sense these things are irrelevant. For if we look at the reality of ourselves, and those around us, with eyes of judgment, then we will always notice a flaw. Yet when we learn the art of unconditional love – when we can accept and offer that – then beauty is revealed all around us.

A woman who is loved for who she is, rather than what she looks like, becomes more beautiful every day – both in perception and in stunning reality. That's the message our children should be hearing and it's a lot less expensive than plastic surgery.

Young have the time to stand still and dream

2008-05-12T22:33:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 7 April 2008

If you blinked slowly you may have missed it. World Freeze Day came, and went, in Brisbane last week. If you were in the Queen St Mall at precisely the right time, you would have been able to see 200 people ‘frozen in time’ for 5 minutes. 300 seconds of human statues. It occurred in over 60 countries. Crowds of mainly young people gathered at a pre-arranged spot, walked into a public area, and stayed still for 5 minutes.

One of the organizers, speaking about the event to bemused and slightly puzzled media, explained that it showed that young people could be organised and weren’t lazy. Right then. Not exactly shooting for the stars there are we? If standing still for 5 minutes is the new benchmark for ‘not lazy’ then the majority of Aussies are workaholics - including most young people I know.

Somehow I don’t think the reason 200 Brisbane young people got involved in World Freeze Day was to show they weren’t lazy. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that people - especially younger people - want to identify with a cause, something bigger than themselves. And if it’s as simple as joining people all around the world by standing still for 5 minutes, so be it.

Young people have always had a certain level of idealism. That’s one of the qualities about youth that our world needs. There is a desire, a longing for meaning. Speaking about this earlier this year, author Jason Illian suggested that people are tired of chasing cool, but that this generation are willing to leave their job, parents, and even their country to find meaning.

How else can you explain the swelling ranks of young Aussies heading to Gallipoli each year – or lining the sides of ANZAC day marches? Ultimately we know that living for ourselves doesn't satisfy. We want meaning. We want to be a part of a grander vision than living our comfortable lives.

This week can provide a focus and impetus for this as it is National Youth Week – an Australia wide celebration of young people aged 12 –25. Yes, it’s about having fun, with a range of concerts and competitions, but it aims to do more than that. Among other things, it is designed to celebrate the contribution of young people to the community, to share ideas and have their voices heard on issues of concern to them. This is a chance to engage young people on issues of substance in a world that often expects only the superficial from them.

In an interesting juxtaposition, commentators have recently identified a new stage of youth, affecting those finishing high school and in their twenties, called the ‘odyssey years’. This is where young people defer commitments such as marriage, starting a family and steady employment.

According to William Galston, a senior fellow at Washington think tank, the Brookings Institution, the term used to describe this life stage ‘captures the sense of exploration’. Other commentators speak of young people being aspirational and having a smorgasbord of options they want to sample before settling down in their thirties.

However, one of the most insightful comments I have read regarding the odyssey years came from Mike Lahood, a 30 year digital video maker. He said, “There is a lot of expectation that you can have a career that really matters and a life of success. People won’t settle for just anything. They want to be happy”.

We have often interpreted ‘making young people happy’ in terms of selfish consumption. However, when you spend time listening, observing and interacting, you soon discover that for many young Australians, happiness really is about something bigger than themselves. They desperately want their lives to matter. They want meaning and purpose. They want a grand vision – not a dry statement hanging on a wall in a corporate headquarters – but one they can live out each day.

Sadly, there’s a lack of large dreams for young people to invest their lives into. So much has been handed to them that they often speak of feeling like a passenger in life. Add to that the fact that we have articulated such low expectations of young people, that we give them little choice but to live down to them. We expect little self-control. We encourage instant gratification. We rescue them from consequences. Is it little wonder they long for an odyssey – “a long series of wanderings or adventures, especially when filled with notable experiences and hardships”?

We risk losing the treasure within a generation if we do not ask something of them - something large and daring. What if we started to challenge them to achieve? What if we let them fail and them helped them up and spurred them on again to overcome failure?

World Freeze Day may have offered a momentary cause but it was one that melted away as quickly as it came. And while National Youth Week is not our only opportunity to engage young people in a radical search for greatness, it can act as a reminder or a stimulus. Sowing the seeds of greatness in the person following you requires largeness of heart, and security of self, but few achievements are as satisfying as the ones you helped others achieve.

Ruth Limkin

The antidote to modern melancholy

2008-03-30T14:01:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 17 March 08

I recently discovered the world of council-funded Outdoor Cinema where a great movie is screened in a local park, under the stars, on a big screen. The best thing about it is that it’s all for free. A number of friends and I headed off with a picnic dinner and enjoyed a low-cost and relaxing evening in the great outdoors.

Enjoying simple pleasures is sometimes a lost art. We are used to being entertained – often looking for the next bigger and better thrill. We have constructed what some commentators call ‘hyper-reality’ that is fuelled both by reality television, where ordinary people can become stars, and the ‘Paris Hilton effect’ where one can be famous through being famous alone.

With an increasing desire for, and acquisition of, luxury products and status symbols, the unattainable becomes attainable and we reach for the glamorous lives we see modeled in the media. The new campaign for Queens Plaza, promoting the ‘new royalty’ is a perfect example.

We happily keep lifting the bar in terms of the lifestyle we’ll settle for and in so doing, create an ever-increasing financial commitment that we need to maintain. This is all well and good for those who profit from our lifestyle being shaped by media constructs and fuelled by consumer goods. However, for those who have to ensure such a lifestyle is appropriately financed, it can be a source of stress.

For example, without romanticizing the past, we used to rely more on imagination than technology to create our entertainment. In the 2006/2007 financial year, Australians broke the $1 billion dollar barrier on retail spending on computer game hardware and software. Technology is our friend, but family entertainment is no longer financially simple.

There is a small remedy to help alleviate this but you won’t hear much about it. Simple pleasures don’t fuel the marketing machine so they don’t get much airtime. But they are just the antidote for our modern melancholy.

Living simply and trimming the excess can create some margins in life. So often, modern families find themselves over-extended, in time and money, far more than what is healthy. We may have got just a little too sophisticated for our own good. Children don't need designer clothes and pets don't need pedicures. And reclassifying non-essentials as the new ‘must haves’ is a problem that each of us must grapple with. Have we forgotten the art of living simply?

There is nothing wrong with luxury goods, computer games, designer clothes for children or even, when it all comes down to it, pedicures for pets. If our desire for these is insatiable, and our life has accumulated goods but not harmony, then the idea for relearning how to live simply may resonate.

Imagine incorporating a ‘living simply day’ once a week, or even a month, where we unplug, de-clutter, slow down and take a moment to savour the things which make life rich – things such as friends, family, ideas, dreams, love and laughter. The game of cricket in the park, lazy afternoons with a book, a bowl of homemade soup served with great conversation – simple pleasures that so often get crowded out by the ‘stuff’ of busy lives.

Perhaps the greatest battle we face in the quest to learn to live simply is the de-cluttering of our internal world. So often we find our hearts are cluttered with insecurity, unforgiveness, fear or other negative emotions. Living freely, confidently and securely is so much harder when it does not emanate from within.

Seeking external sources of power, confidence, acceptance or status will soothe temporarily but will ultimately only send us deeper into a place of need. Technology is quickly superseded, “It bags” go out of fashion and today’s achievements often become yesterday’s news. If these temporary things are the source of fulfilment, then life becomes a complex dance of avoidance and acquisition.

However, when we have journeyed through the difficult places of the heart, and find ourselves at peace, then living simply becomes just that much easier. Then you can be watching a free movie in a park, and still feel like the richest person on earth.

Ruth Limkin

Drink Culture leaves a bad hangover

2008-03-01T10:38:00.002+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 27 Feb 08

PRIME Minister Kevin Rudd was right when he said recently that alcohol abuse was a growing problem and that the "epidemic of binge drinking" he had witnessed was "not good".

Interestingly, our Prime Minister's remarks make for a fascinating juxtaposition with those of someone in the alcohol service industry. The owner of the Normanby Hotel (in Queensland), defending his hotel's record on public safety, was recently quoted as saying: "If we're so bad, why are we so popular?"

It's not rocket science to realise that popularity is not necessarily an indication of whether something is good. All it shows is that it is popular. After all, smoking is popular. So is junk food. But neither of them is "good".

Furthermore, being good doesn't always guarantee popularity – if that was the case, carrots and celery would be in much higher demand. And why do we tend to lean towards popular – even when we know that, sadly, carrots are better for us than chocolate.

One thing our society is generally good at, supported by underlying philosophies such as individualism and materialism, is elevating short-term pleasure over long-term benefits. Hence, a smoker will tell you that they know cigarettes are bad for them but they still smoke.

It's why I choose a chocolate bar instead of an apple for a mid-afternoon snack, or sleep in instead of getting up and exercising. I know what is good, but the good is not always popular. And being popular does not make it good – no matter what the owner of the Normanby may hope.

And so we find that alcohol abuse and binge drinking have become popular, and is a fast-growing problem for Australian society.

Figures recently quoted in The Courier-Mail, and sourced from the National Health and Medical Research Council, suggest there are staggeringly high levels of binge drinking occurring in young Australians. More than 40 per cent of 16 to 17-year-old drinkers consume alcohol at hazardous levels.

Some dismiss those who are warning of the dangers of youth drinking patterns, and argue that young people have been drinking illicitly for generations. There is a level of truth to that, however, the nature and environment in which alcohol consumption is taking place now is fundamentally different from even five years ago.

So what can we do? Part of the problem lies in the fact that the nature of alcohol being consumed by young drinkers has changed drastically. Young drinkers are not experimenting with beer or wine. They are choosing spirits and mixers, and the pre-mixed drinks such as UDLs and Vodka Cruisers are hugely popular. When alcohol doesn't taste like alcohol, such as with drinks like these targeting the teenage market, you get young people underestimating the effect of what they are drinking. It's a recipe for disaster.

Of course, during the teenage years, and early 20s, many people are also struggling with issues of identity, insecurity, peer pressure and fear of rejection. A substance, which promises – even temporarily – to remove inhibitions, embolden the drinker and include them in a socially popular activity, is one that is difficult to resist.

Further complexities arise when you consider the social environment in which young people are being raised. Over-arching community ideas, such as short-term gratification, throwing off restraint and self-determination all combine to create a cocktail of impending disaster.

If we care about reducing the binge drinking happening among our young people, we should consider carefully the words of Geoff Munro, spokesman for the Australian Drug Foundation. He said: "The whole culture impels people into believing that drinking is important, that it should be a part of every social occasion."

We know this to be true – so how do we expect young people to "just say no" if the rest of society is saying yes. What can we do? Well, in a recent interview, Munro encourages us to "re-assess the role alcohol plays or should play in society".

That is something that Rudd and Health Minister Nicola Roxon can take a governmental approach to. But it's also something we can all do – as individuals.

After all, I could think about how my implicit assumptions regarding alcohol create the shared community experience we have and how I could help bring about a change personally. When you think about it, that's a really good idea – and perhaps, we could even help make it a popular one.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

No Quick Fix For Society's Rules

2008-03-01T10:36:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 12 February 08

WE ARE generally a sport-mad society. Apart from cheering on the mighty Maroons at State of Origin, I don't follow much sport avidly.
However, even I know that every game has rules and, without these, chaos would reign.

Similarly, our society has rules about what its members can and cannot do.

While we like to think we're all independent agents, free of any regulation of our behaviour, it's a false notion that doesn't take too much logical thought to dismiss. If we stop and think for a moment, "everyone doing what they want" is an unsustainable and tenuous position.

Simply driving to work reminds us that our behaviours and actions affect those around us, and without the "rules of the game" being in place and enforced, pain and chaos ensue.

Our life is affected by the decisions and actions of those around us. What we do influences others. Our behaviours affect social fabric. Therefore, social discussions about personal behaviour are a legitimate conversation and discussing our moral and ethical responsibilities to one another is essential for a healthy society.

In one of the simplest examples, people who choose to drink too much place a huge financial strain on our health system. As hospital emergency rooms are taxpayer-funded, we, as a society, have a corresponding right to define expectations and make laws about alcohol consumption.

It's logical society should promote behaviour that benefits it. Sometimes though, we fail to do just that.

One case in point is marriage. We are so quick to assert that people are free to engage in any sort of sexual expression, or to raise children in any way they choose, we often miss an important element of the necessary social discussion.

Victoria and the ACT currently are discussing relationship registers and civil partnerships. While each piece of legislation carries different nuances, much commentary about this type of legislation purports that people in relationships other than marriage are unfairly discriminated against in a range of financial and property areas.

It's a complex legal situation. The Family Law Act, which governs many of these issues for married couples, comes under federal law. Property law, which governs these areas for de facto relationships – opposite sex and same-sex in Queensland – is state-based.

Some suggest that every relationship should be treated the same and this is often part of the key thinking behind relationship registers and civil partnership legislation.

As we ask ourselves what society should do, faced with such a legal and emotionally complex scenario, there are no quick-fix solutions.

Those who are in unmarried relationships understandably wish to have the ability to legally make significant medical decisions for the other partner. A compassionate society would have to agree – which is why we have a mechanism already for this in an enduring power of attorney. (Coincidentally, lawyers also often recommend this for married couples.)

This being the case, the key driving issue often given is that unjust financial discrimination exists for unmarried couples.

However, before we rush to fixing what is apparently broken, I wonder if we need to take a step back and be willing to ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions?

To start with, is it necessarily unjust discrimination if some relationships are treated differently with respect to various financial, taxation and property matters?

My husband and I do not have available to us the same taxation benefits available to couples with dependent children. However, this is not because we are being discriminated against. We are not being treated with less respect – we are simply being treated differently because we are in a different situation.

Before we determine that the new goalposts are the elimination of difference in the way different relationships are treated, should we consider why society has conferred certain financial benefits to married couples, particularly those with children?

In what is significant for such a conversation, a growing body of research is affirming the idea that marriage is in the interests of the social good. Numerous international studies have demonstrated that marriage, the union of a man and a woman to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life, boosts mental health and emotional well-being. Substance abuse and domestic violence occurs less frequently if a couple is married than if they co-habit.

Further, children of married parents are less likely than children of other family structures to show signs of depression or mental illness, less likely to experiment with harmful substances and less likely to experience a range of negative outcomes such as crime, school failure, domestic violence and more (all of which, of course, cost society dearly).

If marriage is unique in providing so many social benefits, with the flow-on economic benefits to society, does it really seem so unreasonable that society would provide financial incentives to the institution of marriage?

Doesn't it seem logical that a type of relationship, which provides unique benefits to society, should in turn be afforded unique status?

And if other forms of relationships bring less than equal positive outcomes, is it really fair that they demand that society confer equal benefits upon them?

We would never suggest we all determine our own rules on the sporting field or the highway. Why would we suggest it then in something so infinitely more important?

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

The Big Apple Better in Segments

2008-02-06T18:41:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 5 February 08

THERE'S a reason why they call it the city that never sleeps.

Stopping off in New York City recently for a short holiday, my earlier love for the city was quickly reignited as we wandered down to Times Square at midnight for hotdogs and pretzels.

With easy access to just about anything, my husband and I quickly got used to their outrageous retail hours. He appreciated the Apple Store on Fifth Avenue being open 24 hours a day, and I was quite taken by the two-storey M&M store, which was open until midnight every day.

As the most populous city in the US, and one of the largest urban areas in the world, there is no question that New York is big. With its global influence on economics, media, politics and entertainment, this city carries a leadership capacity. But what most interested me was that this large city was becoming smaller.

The City is officially divided into five boroughs – Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, The Bronx and Staten Island. Within those boroughs, there are a number of neighbourhoods, which have developed over time due to the types of activities located there.

The Theatre District, the Garment District and the Financial District are just some examples. Each neighbourhood tends to have a different feel and a variety of architecture, built to meet the needs and functions of the area.

These are all noted in tourist guides, helping you geographically "get your head around" such a large populous city, but they do more than just this.

Albert Schweitzer, the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize winner, theologian, musician and philosopher, could have been describing New York when he said: "We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness."

Ironically, it's easier to be lonely among 8.2 million people than it is among 80. And as New York has grown, these neighbourhoods have given people somewhere with which to identify. Even though you may be spending all your time in the same large city, the neighbourhoods mean there is still an area to come home to. And without somewhere to come home to, we cannot be at rest.

Something else quite noticeable was the appearance of Alliances. The SoHo Alliance, the Times Square Alliance and the Downtown Alliance are just a few of these not-for-profit, co-operative organisations that have formed.

For example, the Times Square Alliance, which functions with a voluntary board of directors writes, "In addition to providing core neighbourhood services with its Public Safety Officers and Sanitation Associates, the Alliance promotes local businesses; encourages economic development and public improvements; co-ordinates numerous major events in Times Square (including the annual New Year's Eve and Broadway on Broadway celebrations); manages the Times Square Information Centre; and advocates on behalf of its constituents with respect to a host of public policy, planning and quality-of-life issues".

It seems New York is a great big city whose citizens have realised it must get smaller as it gets larger. This wasn't what I expected to find. Culturally, the large is celebrated. Economies of scale and the idea that bigger is better permeate our culture.

Truth be told, I love the opportunities that come with large resources. For example, being involved with a larger size church, we can mobilise greater resources for local and global projects than if there were just a few of us. Large businesses can employ more people than smaller ones. In whatever capacity you're involved, size does bring influence.

However, big is not enough. New Yorkers have implemented alliances, not because they were looking for more activities to occur but because they realised that if we are only part of the large, we miss a vital component of community.

Dag Hammarskjold, second Secretary-General of the United Nations, made the following observation: "What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear."

While New York may embody a culture that celebrates the individual, it seems its people have been rediscovering that we carry within us a deep, inbuilt desire to help carry another's burdens.

That could be outworked in formal alliances, or simply manifest through caring for our neighbour. Living for ourselves only brings loneliness, but living for others is a key component of a more meaningful life.

That's a rediscovery that's worth making every day – whatever city you're in.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

Friends offer more than a link

2008-01-07T17:03:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 7 January 2008

HOW many friends do you have? With the rise in popularity of networking sites, it's a question that's harder to answer these days.
Few would argue that social networking sites, with user-generated profiles and lists of "friends", are big news. Facebook membership doubled in the past year, with about 55 million people now signed up. MySpace has just over 110 million members.

They are also big money. Microsoft recently paid $240 million for a 1.6 per cent stake of Facebook and just two years ago, News Corporation bought MySpace for $580 million. Obviously, online advertising revenue is an attractive proposition.

The reasons for the popularity of these sites are basically the same reasons why cafes are so popular. We are a sociable species. I love catching up with friends over a great espresso, and I love staying in touch electronically. I have rediscovered old school friends through Facebook and technology makes it easier to stay in touch with friends who are travelling or who now live overseas.

However, the ability to find and add all of these people to your list of friends poses an interesting little dilemma. What makes a friend? There have always been old friends floating around the city. Does the fact that you add each other to an electronic network mean you are now going to re-establish a meaningful relationship? Or does it simply mean you say "hi" and exchange the "what are you up to these days?" pleasantries, much as you would if you saw them in the street, before sitting idly in each other's friends list, not being deleted but not really interacting?

Does being on a list a friend make?

I'm not yet aware of anyone developing modern protocols relating to friends lists. Do the lists have to have any sense of integrity? Can the people on your friends list be acquaintances or must the relationship be made of stronger stuff to count? What if someone you loosely know adds you? Is it poor form to ignore their friend request, or is it the height of superficiality to add them knowing that your interaction will be limited at best? And yet, what if the acquaintance is someone you genuinely think is a great human being but you have just never really had the chance to develop a friendship? And they say internet dating is hard work. Try just being friends.

Shedding some light on the popularity of social networking, Professor Jeremy Bailenson, of the Virtual Human Interaction Lab at Stanford University, northern California, said: "We are very social animals and this allows us to ramp it up to a whole other order of magnitude."

To add another level of complexity, he also pointed to the popularity of virtual worlds, such as Second Life, and commented that such sites allow people to "interact as their ideal self and not their real self. You can be whatever age you want – 20 forever – dress any way you want, be any gender you want, and be socialising with zillions of people at once all the time".

One wonders if Bailenson has been spending just a little too much time at the lab. I'm quite a social person, but the thought of socialising with zillions of people at once all the time is, quite frankly, exhausting.

And it doesn't matter how many "friends" you have on the list, if you are not interacting as your real self.

If you are not your real self, any relationships you develop are not real. They are play-acting – froth and bubble that disappear when you turn off the computer. Virtual community might be fun but it will never take the place of authentic community.

We are social beings and we all need friends – real friends.

We need friends who share life with us in good and bad times, who love us unconditionally and who can help us move house, celebrate a birthday or cry with us when we lose a loved one.

These friendships take time, courage, forgiveness and honesty. These friendships require an investment much higher than a "website only" friend, but their worth is beyond compare.

By all means, let's continue to stay in touch electronically, but let us never neglect the real for the allure of the virtual.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer.

Living in the Lucky Country

2008-01-01T21:28:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail, 1 January 2008

Let's not take the new year ahead for granted, writes Ruth Limkin

IT MUST have been the juxtaposition of the day that made me look afresh.
It was a warm and humid evening -- the type that Queensland summers seem to have. It was two days before Christmas and we were driving through suburban back streets.

I looked at scenery I had seen hundreds of times but it felt like I was seeing it with fresh eyes. Little post-war houses snugly in a row, lights behind drawn curtains.

Looking up, a possum was nimbly scampering across overhead lines. There was a sense of calm, of peace. It was suburban Australia and while far from perfect, the sense of gratefulness I felt for it was overwhelming.

I silently wondered for a moment why such ordinary experiences would elicit such a strong response. Back to the juxtaposition I spoke of.

I have had three friends recently return from working with Christian aid agencies in Cambodia. That very morning I had been speaking with one of them and he recounted some of the horrifying circumstances he had seen. I heard again some of the cold hard statistics of a nation that suffered a genocide and whose people now live in a country so riddled with land mines they find it near impossible to eke out a living.

And so, with images fresh in my mind of men who lost legs to cruelly planted explosives, it was no small surprise that I was looking with fresh eyes at suburbia.

I know there is talk of a housing affordability crisis and I do find myself wondering how friends will break into the real estate market. But clean drinking water is easily accessible.

I know that many Australians will overload credit cards at this time of year and many will be vulnerable to high interest rate loans. But we earn more than $1 a day.

On the world stage, we are a very lucky nation. We are economically prosperous and we have opportunity to create wealth. We have opportunities to share that wealth with those less fortunate around us without worrying about corrupt government officials diverting those funds.

We have safety nets for people who fall on hard times. We have a nation free from war within its borders. We have a police force and government who exercise power legitimately.

While we can all point to areas that could be improved, in our neighbourhood or nation, when we think about what we do have, we realise how blessed we are.
Rather than take such things for granted, it would do us much better if we lived with a predisposition to thankfulness.

As we look to the coming year, and think about our life, we can be reminded what a wonderful opportunity we have to live here in Australia. As we make our new year's list today, and think about new habits, an excellent start would be to begin each day with the simple act of listing things we are thankful for.
When we remind ourself of all the good things in our life, we smile a little wider and walk a little lighter.

If we face this year with a predisposition to gratefulness, we will find ourself more aware of the good things around us. We may well then find that the neat little row of houses, and neighbourhood possum, will speak to us less of the mundane and more of the delight that comes from a thankful heart.
Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Legally Fatherless, That's Outrageous

2008-01-01T19:23:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail, 20 Dec 07

I am not a morning person. Therefore, I am unlikely to pay much attention to what is being screened if my husband flicks on a morning television show. But every so often, something is said which pierces through the morning fog quicker than a strong espresso.

Last week, there was discussion about Andy Bathie, a 37 year old from the UK, who donated sperm to allow a lesbian couple to have a baby. Now that the lesbian couple have split up, Bathie has to pay child support. Discussing whether this request for child support could ever happen in Australia, an expert in family law, Geoff Monahan, assured the television viewers that Australian law precluded such a thing. Monohan explained elements of Australian Law, specifically the Artificial Conception Act – 1984, which determined parentage of children born by artificial conception.

For children born to married women whose husbands have consented to AID, or to women in established de facto relationships whose partners have consented, the child has them listed as mother and father.

However, for children born by articificial conception to any other, the child will be legally fatherless, as the Act states that in all cases of artificial conception, the donor is not the legal father. A discussion paper by Lawlink NSW states, “For such children there can never be completion of birth registration particulars showing anything under the heading “father”.”

I was more than a little stunned as I contemplated the gravity of what I had just heard. I found it hard to believe that a nation would enshrine into law a situation where children can intentionally be born in such a way that they are deemed legally fatherless?

While I am sure that some very fine minds worked upon such legislation, one has to wonder what they were thinking. It’s one thing for children to face having an absent or unknown father because of family tragedy, or a relationship breakdown. However, it is another thing altogether for the law to sanction that a child may be bought into the world legally fatherless. A woman’s desire to bear a child should not be allowed to subjugate the child’s rights to legal parentage. This is a grave misuse of technology.

Children born by artificial conception are not fatherless. It takes two – and whether reproduction happens the old fashioned way, or whether the process involves advanced medical and scientific technology, still the only way of a child being created is with a man’s sperm and a woman’s egg.

If this legislation was enacted to protect men and women from uncertain emotional and financial responsibilities, we have simply buried our collective heads in the sand.

What happens when these children gain a voice? What happens when they are old enough to seek justice from a society that felt it was appropriate to deny them such a fundamental notion?

We have become so enamoured with the idea of our rights that we have lost sight of our responsibilities. It seems that we have reduced bringing a child into the world to a transaction that fulfils desires, yet, which does not give care or consideration to the best interests of the child. Surely no-one can claim that intentionally being made ‘legally fatherless’ is in the best interests of the child?

It is also intellectually inconsistent for society to allow men to deposit their DNA, so that he will help create new life, and yet essentially deny that they will father children.

Family relationships are complex. We know that a child’s social fathering may not necessarily come from its biological father, but the biological father is someone from whom the child can trace their genetic make-up – and any hereditary matters.

Professor G.R. Dunstan, at a seminar of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists, reflected on this dilemma regarding parentage of children born by artificial conception back in 1976. He said, “The real issue is one of truth, and of men’s right to know their true identity, only a register of genetic identity, maintained alongside of the register of social identity, will serve... Some may see in such a register a threat to civil liberties - another advance towards the computerised tyrant state where all is known and all recorded. Others will see in it a threat to the donor... So be it. We must choose.”

It is fundamentally untrue that a child is biologically fatherless and it is unconscionable that children are being forced into this status by law. In a misguided effort to protect men from financial recompense, we have stolen a fundamental right from Australian children. If that is the choice our nation has made, it is the wrong one.

Just One of Life's Melting Moments

2007-12-19T13:50:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 13 December 2007

VOLUNTEERING recently, to bring some Christmas goodwill to a busy and often stressful time of year, some friends and I were giving out chocolates and smiles.

We approached a gentleman who was sitting waiting for his wife to finish shopping. He looked a little weary and it seemed he would appreciate a small chocolate and a friendly smile.

A delightful chat ensued, and we explained we were volunteering because we cared for our community and wanted to add a little Christmas cheer. As he looked at the chocolate we had just given him, he remarked thoughtfully, almost as an aside: ``People need more than chocolate.''

I have been thinking about this encounter, and those five words, ever since. People need more than chocolate. It's true -- we all know that. But it's a compelling idea to consider simply for the next, unvoiced question -- so what do people need? There are lots of opinions about what we do and don't need at any given time.

Television ads and catalogues all tell us we need a new (insert latest consumer item here), and if not for us, then for that special someone in our life. Speaking of that special someone, there are a whole range of websites and phone lines happy to tell you that you need such a person and they will help you find them -- for a fee of course.

Lots of people telling us what we need or don't need. The lists are endless -- lists made for us, and lists we make for ourselves. At this time of year, we make Christmas lists -- to do, to buy, and to get. And then Christmas is over and we move on to our New Years list -- to do, to stop doing and to give.

Yet when was the last time we stopped to think about what we do -- really -- need?

It's a question worth considering.

The spirit of the season would suggest to us that perhaps we need peace on earth, and goodwill to all men. Actually, it's a concept few would argue with. But how do we translate that to our everyday lives?

Perhaps we need to relinquish the rights we have to hold on to offences? Nothing wearies our heart more than carrying resentment, justified or otherwise. While we may feel we have every right to harbour unforgiveness towards those who have hurt us, ultimately it will burden us more than anyone else.

Perhaps we need to live other-centred, rather than self-centred lives? Living for a cause bigger than ourselves brings purpose and fulfilment far beyond we could ever find if we live with the mindset that ``he who dies with the most toys wins''.

Perhaps we need to live daringly? A favourite quote by Mark Twain said: ``Dance like nobody's watching; Love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening. Live like it's heaven on earth.'' Living such a way in the little things opens up for us a far more generous life.
What do we need? If we listen carefully, our heart is probably telling us.

We often shy away from searching the depths of our own heart. Life is busy, and we spend so much time taking care of the demands of the outer self that we find we have neglected our inner self.

Christians believe the world's greatest need is that of a saviour and that this season reminds us that ``unto us, a child is given''. Whether you believe that, or not, it is a great time to honestly reflect, and to contemplate the state of our lives.

And for any chocolate fans like myself, who worry I am advocating abandoning such a delicious treat -- you can relax. Needing more than chocolate doesn't preclude having chocolate -- and lots of it I say. After all, it's Christmas!

Ruth Limkin

When the best gift is room in your heart

2007-11-12T17:26:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 7 Nov 07

In the midst of a busy life, sometimes we will hear a news report that breaks into our distracted minds and gives us reason to pause.

Last week, the news of Ten newsreader Charmine Dragun’s death was firstly sad, and later tragic as details of her death emerged. She seemingly had everything to live for. Successful, intelligent, and beautiful, she was a young woman who was enjoying great success in her career. To those looking on, life would have appeared rosy. Yet reports indicate that her feelings of isolation, after moving to a new city and away from family, were overwhelming. Life can be full, yet very empty at the same time.

Alongside such heartbreaking news sit some survey results from the UK regarding diminishing warmth and affection in modern life. The results showed not just that a third of people didn’t receive a daily hug, but also that three quarters of surveyed people yearned to be hugged more than they were.

Discussing the survey, Dr David Holmes, Senior Psychologist at Manchester Metropolitan University, said we need physical contact to reduce stress and increase feelings of well-being. He blames busy lifestyles and political correctness for the lack of affection and physical contact that many people experience. Not surprising – but not good news either.

When we stop to consider the moments in our life that matter – really matter – they are less to do with our career or material things – and much more to do with the people in our life.

Relationships are the oxygen to life. Without them, we suffocate under the complexities and demands that face us each day we wake up. We may have a variety of relationship types, and they may be of varying depths, yet each of them play a role is sustaining and nourishing us.

Walt Disney said, “There is great comfort and inspiration in the feeling of close human relationships and its bearing on our mutual fortunes - a powerful force, to overcome the "tough breaks" which are certain to come to most of us from time to time”.

Each of us will experience those tough breaks at some stage, which is why we need each other. Relationships that matter may be those with your oldest dearest friend. They may be the less profound, yet still enriching relationships with your hairdresser, your barista, or your neighbour. Whatever type of relationship they are, all have the potential to be a positive influence in our lives, and allow us to relationally invest in others.

It’s time to prioritize each other. As we enter the silly season, we can get consumed with getting the house ready, the food prepared and working out the perfect present for the friend who has everything. We often extend ourselves financially, and then take out our stress on those closest to us. Perhaps this year it’s an opportunity to consider a simpler Christmas, and invest our time into people. Perhaps re-orient yourself in the midst of activity, take a deep breath, and ensure that relationships are the priority. After all, sometimes the best gift you can give to someone is room in your heart.

Significant moments are almost always to do with relationships – new or established. No-one should have to feel overwhelmed by isolation. While developing new relationships takes time, they are truly worth cultivating.

Pick up the phone or open your inbox. Make a time to catch up with that person you have been meaning to, or let them know that you’re thinking of them. The best intentions, honourable though they are, don’t brighten someone’s day – but action does.

In a strange and mysterious transaction, the act of reaching out to someone else, and giving of our time, is an act that enriches our own lives. In trying to meet the needs of others, we find our own being met.

It's time to reimagine rites of passage

2007-11-12T17:21:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 17 Oct 07

In just over a month, tens of thousands of young Queenslanders will finish high-school. With graduations imminent, students and parents are caught up in the whirlwind of formals, graduation nights, university applications, job hunting and final assessments.

At the same time, the Gold Coast is gearing up for the annual week of schoolies revelry which follows graduation. Infrastructure, volunteers and activities are being prepared to host this week which has positioned itself in the cultural imagination of Australia as an integral part of the rite of passage for young Australians.

However, the rites of passage we have for young people entering adult society, are largely focused on, or aided by, binge drinking, which we have unfortunately culturally defined as a part being ‘grown up’. Sadly, the large majority of young people at Schoolies will fulfil society's expectations for a coming of age - which is to drink to dangerous levels and engage in physically, sexually and emotionally harmful behaviour. And for some, the consequences of that will stay with them forever.

In fact, so ingrained is the idea of over-consumption of alcohol within our culture that 2 million Australians are risking brain damage from excessive consumption of alcohol. We do a tragic disservice to the next generation if we continue to define being grown up with activities that the National Health and Medical Research Council has just advised puts them at short-term risk of injury and accident, and longer term risks of a range of illnesses, including lip and other oral cancers, liver cancer, breast cancer, cirrhosis, stroke and diseases caused by high blood pressure.

But what if we re-imagined coming of age? What if we created different rites of passage? What if we gave adolescent males the chance to be men through being those who defend and protect rather than those who exploit and damage? What if we gave teenage girls the opportunity to be women by growing in purpose instead of simply partying?

The coming of age process in our society is one that has largely occurred by default. While other cultures had significant ceremonies at which times young people were officially welcomed into adult society, along with the responsibilities that entails, Australian culture tends to look more the freedoms that coming of age brings. The individualism we value so highly means we are more interested in what we can gain by adulthood, rather than what we can contribute. Young men therefore, are encouraged to define themselves by drinking a yard glass, getting a hotted up car, or bedding young women, who similarly, are encouraged to party excessively and dangerously, and be sexually available.

We need creative and lateral approaches to coming of age in our nation. Imagine ways of welcoming young people into civic life that extended past pleading with them to enrol to vote. Imagine engaging them in volunteering and advocating for issues such as poverty, indigenous health issues, and better environmental responsibility. Rather than simply letting them virtually experience the world around them, we could resource opportunities for them to find out for themselves what we face, and then genuinely empower them to find creative ways to address these.

We need to consider this widely, and think of broad civic and cultural initiatives. However, we can also consider this individually. Family and friends of young men and women can help redefine what it means to be an adult in an Australian context. Rather than giving the young people you interact with something to live down to, why not give them something to live up to. Positive encouragement, and pointing them to a greater purpose, will help our young people become not just the adults, but also the leaders that our nation needs.

Ruth Limkin

It's not about the money

2007-10-22T20:55:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 1 October 2007

SITTING on the desk next to me is a small, blue iPod nano.

Two months ago I joined the ranks of the MP3-listening population.Then, having owned it for all of three weeks, I caught myself wondering why on earth car manufacturers haven't put an iPod dock in every car stereo. Seriously, CDs are so last month.

It's been of interest to me how quickly I've become accustomed to having a not-inexpensive accessory as a part of life. I had resisted buying an iPod, even though my husband kept telling me how great they were. For several years I held off until I was sure I personally would use one and wasn't just committing an impulse buy. (I'm quite glad I did – they come in great colours now.)

I say all of that to lay my cards on the table before I get accused of blatant hypocrisy for what I am about to say. After all, I am well aware that I don't need an iPod. Life would continue quite well without one. I could continue to buy, listen to and then misplace CDs. I'm also aware that there's nothing intrinsically wrong with buying an iPod. For me however, the act of delaying a purchase, and saying no, even for two years, was a small step towards a revolution of moderation.

Many nations, including our own, are in the insidious grip of the appropriately named "affluenza" – the epidemic of overconsumption. While there are several vaccines for equine influenza, "affluenza" continues to spread unabated. We have inherited a world with easy access to credit, and spiralling personal debt.

There is a staggering array of personal consumer items. We've been told that our happiness is the most important thing. We'll be happier if we have the latest and greatest anything.

Yet materialism has failed to deliver on its promised fulfilment. As I have been reflecting on this over the past 12 months, and discussing such issues with a large number of young adults, I find resonance in the hearts of many. We realise our society is drowning under the weight of consumerism and we find ourselves also mired within it. So what does one do?

Conversation around this issue is comprised of many questions, with varying degrees of confident answers. What is the response of generally comfortable people in a world of poverty? Is a hermit-like, rag-wearing, guilt-based response the only way of rejecting rampant consumption? And if we answer no, is that just because we don't want to admit it? Or is there a way we can live in this society without worshipping at the altar of materialism?

I realise that the conversation we find ourselves engaged in is a continual one. However, I am encouraged by what I see bubbling into life around me, as people attempt to relearn to live moderately, instead of indulgently.

A friend recently held a birthday dinner party with a difference. Her birthday present from her family was the cost of the party, and she asked guests to bring money for gifts. This money wasn't so she could buy jewellery, but to help refugees in Ghana – where she will be volunteering in a refugee camp at the end of this year.

Other responses to "affluenza" are less spectacular, but reflect a quiet and resolute changing of habits. One person has decided to lay-by most purchases as a way to combat the pull of immediate gratification. Small steps – but significant.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Human Cloning Just Not Ethical

2007-10-22T20:51:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 11 September 2007

OVARIAN hyper-stimulation isn't exactly a hot topic at the dining table. However, the Queensland Parliament Cafeteria may be abuzz soon with talk of such things, as our parliamentarians discuss the human cloning legislation soon to be before them.

The reason that ovarian hyper-stimulation should figure in the conversation is that it is the only realistic method to allow the mass harvesting of women's eggs. And if we legalise and encourage cloning research on human embryos, such harvesting will be needed to ensure we have enough eggs for research. The problem is that it carries significant health-risks for women.

Studies cited by David Magnus and Mildred K. Cho, of the Stanford Center for Biomedical Ethics, suggest anywhere up to 10 per cent of women who undergo ovarian hyper-stimulation will develop a range of symptoms including "renal failure, intrauterine polyps, ovarian cysts, thromboembolism, adult respiratory distress and haemorrhage from ovarian rupture and infertility". Long-term health risks are also an issue of note, precisely because the scientific and medical community know so little about what they could be.

Herein lies a problem for the proponents of human cloning. Women would be required to pay the price to ensure a large supply of eggs. And this price is not acceptable.

Researchers in the UK have encountered just this problem of supply, and their solution should make all of us, including politicians, very nervous. Britain's fertility regulator has just given the go-ahead to create embryos which are a hybrid of human and animal cells. The "it would never happen" scenario just has. And the opponents of cloning may not have just been scaremongering after all.

However, we in Queensland do not have to start down this path. Our politicians can ensure that human cloning stays prohibited here. They can vote against the Research Involving Human Embryos and Prohibition of Human Cloning Amendment Bill, which is due before the current sitting of Queensland Parliament.

This Bill, for the sake of highly dubious scientific research, would allow the creation and subsequent destruction of cloned humans. This is an abhorrent thought. To create a human being to be experimented upon is ethically wrong, and its morality is not defined by whether they are alive for 14 days or 14 years. We devalue our own humanity if we allow this.

We need to ask our State Parliamentarians to take a strong ethical stand against such a morally wrong proposal. Do we have politicians who can do so?

Perhaps we do. After all, retiring Premier Peter Beattie was happy to tell us recently about his Christian philosophy, explaining it helped him forgive former minister Merri Rose for trying to blackmail him.

It's true that any Christian philosophy seemed strangely missing in action when his Government decriminalised prostitution, or tried to effectively remove religious education in schools. It's understandable that we have been unsure what place Christian philosophy had been given, when under Beattie's watch, Education Queensland discouraged schools from celebrating the Christian meaning of Christmas in favour of celebrating the "end of year and upcoming holidays".

However, perhaps there has been some quiet reflection in Queensland Cabinet and such a philosophy is back in ethical vogue. A Christian philosophy recognises the ethical and moral repugnance of the commodification and destruction of something as sacred as human life, so perhaps moral consistency could soon bring us a stunning denunciation of human cloning from State Parliament.

However, for those who get nervous when we speak of Christian philosophies and politicians in the same sentence, they can be assured that the science alone is a good enough reason to say no to human cloning.

With the promised "cures" from embryonic stem cell research failing to materialise, as well as problems with tumour formation and immune rejection, it's no wonder that some research companies are halting work on embryonic stem-cell research due to lack of results and prohibitive costs. The reason we are even having this debate is questionable. Adult stem cell research is providing therapeutic treatments and does not require human cloning.

There are many reasons to vote no to human cloning. It may be concern for women's health. It may be the determination to stand against unethical practices. It may simply be because of the science involved.

Whatever the reason, the message is loud and clear. Human cloning is not OK – and politicians need to say so.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Voyeurism has its victims

2007-09-09T15:10:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 21 August 2007

DEPENDING on whom you talk to, the Kevin 07 campaign may or may not have been derailed over the weekend. Revelations that Rudd visited a New York strip club in 2003, while representing Australia at the United Nations, have drawn a mixed response.

Some people have already stated it's a vote changer for them. Others claim that the affair has "humanised'' Rudd. After all, none of us are perfect and we all make mistakes.

However, watching both the public response, and commentary from some media personalities, one wonders if we have missed the point. In people's rush to excuse Rudd's inappropriate behaviour, the nature of the activity has been minimised.

A comment by Peter Harvey, on the Today show yesterday morning, was obviously seeking to downplay the affair and shore up support for Rudd. Harvey even brought with him a bucket of "first stones'', and borrowing from the words of Jesus, indicated none of us could throw one. It was, at first, a seemingly gracious and compassionate response. However, then he kept talking. Harvey compared the club Rudd visited to the one in mafia television series, The Sopranos. He explained that you go in and ``there's lap dancing, pole dancers and everyone's having a great time''.

The problem is, not everyone's having a great time. And it's not really OK for us to have to allude to the behaviour of organised criminals, fictional or otherwise, to explain the behaviour of a politician representing Australia. We're not discussing someone who had too much to drink at the local pub. We're discussing visits to strip clubs. And the assertion that everyone's having a great time is quite simply false.

Of course, I'm sure that those who profit off the objectification and sexualisation of women are having a great time. It would also be a fair assumption to suggest that those who go to ogle the women employed by clubs like these are having a great time.

However, these girls are someone's daughters, and it's highly likely their parents are not having a great time. And I'm equally sure that the girls themselves, who are being de-humanised and commodified, are also not having a great time.

Research by Dr Mary-Anne Laydon, co-director of the Sexual Trauma and Psychopathology program at the University of Pennsylvania, shows performers in the live porn industry have high rates of depression, dissociative personality disorder and substance abuse. In fact, a staggering 55 per cent of strippers also were found to have borderline personality disorder.

In fact, work in this industry and you are likely to develop an eating disorder, have your breasts grabbed by customers, called obscene and abusive names, or be pelted by ice, cigarettes or coins. You are also more likely than not to be followed home or stalked by a customer. Not such a great time.

In an interesting juxtaposition, while aspects of the media, and some of the public, were trying to excuse and make light of Rudd's behaviour, John Howard was taking a very different approach to the treatment of women.

Supporting the weekend launch of the Women's Forum Australia "Get Real'' Campaign, which aims to raise awareness of the sexualisation of girls and women, Howard expressed concern regarding treatment of women in the media. Expressing his support for young women taking their place in the next generation of Australian leaders, he expressed his disquiet at the way media and marketing sexualises females, with a resulting impact on young women's perceptions of themselves and the effect on their health and self-esteem.

This is what the social conversation should be about. The visit of Rudd and Warren Snowdon to such a place was wrong, as Rudd has admitted. However, what message are we sending to women in our society if we simply label it an error of judgment by a drunken politician, and decline to consider it any further? It's time we gain some moral courage and realise that some activities are not appropriate, for very many reasons -- and not just if someone wants to lead a country.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Churches Free to Find Own Expression

2007-08-13T16:58:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 16 July 07

ONE of the things I love when people come to visit the church community I am part of, is how we are completely different to their preconceived ideas of church.

Aussies generally don't come along to church expecting to enjoy it. They don't expect large numbers of young people who are enthusiastic about church. They don't anticipate bands and lighting similar to what they may see at concerts. They think of church as old, boring and irrelevant. So when they discover Christian churches that are fresh, exciting and contemporary it is quite unexpected.

The recent comments from the Vatican, ratified by the Pope, which indicate views that Protestant churches were ``not churches in the proper sense of the word'', but rather ``ecclesial communities'', have caused quite a protest from some non-Catholic church leaders.

Cardinal Kasper, responsible for the Catholic Church's relationships with other denominations, was quoted on Thursday as saying, ``The declaration does not say that Protestant Churches are not churches, but that they are not churches in the proper sense, that is they are not churches in the way the Catholic Church understands the word church''. Reports also said he discussed the fact that ``Protestant churches do not want to be churches in the sense of the Catholic Church, because they have different ideas of what the church and its ministers should be''.

And you know what? He's right. There are large sections of the church that do indeed have a very different idea of what the church should be, and what its ministers should be.

I am thrilled to be a part of the large and growing part of the Australian church that is reaching and interacting with its community and that has a growing, multi-cultural and multi-generational congregation. It is an absolute joy to be in a movement that has a large number of young men and women who sense the calling of God and are being trained and released to lead the church. It is very freeing to be in churches that empower every person to be a minister of the grace and goodness of God to those who are around them and encourages them to be representatives of Christ wherever they go.

While the Catholic church may have recently decided to allow greater use of the Latin Mass, there are large sections of the church who are more interested in communicating the gospel in the vernacular of today rather than the vernacular of 1500 years ago.

I admit a personal bewilderment at using a largely dead language to communicate a message of life. However, if that is what some people find helpful in their worship of Jesus Christ, I will gladly affirm their freedom to do so. While we may differ largely in style, and significantly in our expression of church and ministry, there are many things we agree on.

We can continue to work together to promote a culture of life, to feed the poor, to speak out for the oppressed and to bring the gospel to the world in which we live. That, of course, is not very controversial and so is likely to receive little media coverage, yet can quietly influence relationships and dialogue between churches.

The Vatican can continue to build upon its idea of what the church and its ministers should be like, in the same way that Protestant churches can.

The most important thing is simply this: are we loving God with all our heart and others as ourselves?
Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Beliefs and Government do mix

2007-06-25T19:44:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 20 June 2007

AMAZING Grace is perhaps one of the best known hymns ever. It can be sung, or at least hummed even by those who never venture into a church.

It has a timeless melody and its message of redemption warms the heart.

Happily, the movie of the same name, being released in Australia in late July, also carries such universal appeal. It tells the story of William Wilberforce, the man who fought for decades to see the slave trade, and ultimately slavery, abolished in England and the English colonies.

The movie title is drawn from Wilberforce's friendship with converted former slave trader, and author of Amazing Grace, John Newton. From a modern perspective, it is almost a mystery that Wilberforce's battle took so long.

History informs our horror at the fact that men, women and children were bought and sold as commodities with full political and social permission.

The widespread apathy of English society regarding this was in part due to the lack of understanding about the slave trade but also due to the spiritual and moral condition of English society.

Religion was given empty assent and was largely marginalised and dissociated from personal and public life. Into such a situation came a spiritually energised Wilberforce who realised that world view, informed by faith, does indeed affect both an individual's and nation's decisions.

For example, Wilberforce's Christian values such as unconditional love, equality, self-sacrifice, stewardship and justice, motivated not just his drive to abolish slavery but also saw him found a large number of other benevolent associations, including the RSPCA. His Christian faith was a vital aspect in persevering to protect the exploited and push for the abolition of slavery. You would think this would mean his faith was welcome in this debate. However, you would think wrong.

In what is eerily reflective of the current Australian political environment, Wilberforce was remonstrated for involving his faith in his political life.

Those who would argue that faith cannot inform politics or legislation would be wise to think upon the great social changes that politicians have led precisely because of their faith.

Perhaps the most recent comments from former senator Amanda Vanstone bear reflecting on. Vanstone, in a recently published article, contends, "Australians are generally highly apprehensive when (some) politicians believe their own set of values makes them somehow morally superior on a particular issue and that this therefore gives them the right to legislate according to those views."

While no one is advocating a theocracy, Vanstone's sentiments, if historically applied, would have prevented Wilberforce from abolishing slavery. He worked to bring in legislation precisely because of his moral views.

While there was initially little popular support for his views, he was so convinced of the moral superiority of equality of all, as opposed to the exploitation of some, that he kept trying to legislate accordingly.

Ironically, Vanstone's article is entitled "Fair Go – Our Ultimate Value". Released only months after the 200-year anniversary of Wilberforce's victory, which truly won a fair go for all, it denies the validity of the very power which energised the abolition movement. Moral conviction is not intrinsically wrong, nor is faith-based conviction. It is inappropriate and unrealistic to call for politicians to deny their sense of right and wrong if that is based on Christianity.

Every politician bases their conviction on a world view which is informed by their belief, or lack thereof, about God. Intellectual honesty demands we integrate what we believe with what we do or we become hypocrites and no one, least of all an Aussie, likes a hypocrite.

To deny the place of a person's convictions in reasoned debate of morally contentious issues, simply because those convictions are illuminated by faith, doesn't make sense. History reminds us of this clearly. Soon, so will cinemas.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Spirit of Hope Lives On

2007-04-28T18:30:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 26 April 2007

IT HAS been a week and a half filled with grief.

The Virginia Tech shootings on April 16, perpetrated by Cho Seung-hui, were devastating, and mourned all around the world.

Similarly, the deaths of 16-year-old Australian schoolgirls Stephanie Gestier and Jodie Gater, in an apparent suicide pact hinted at on MySpace, have left their families, friends and community distraught.

As the initial shock of these events begins to pass, we question and reflect. While we are told that clues to both of these tragedies lay in the writings of troubled young people, those who knew them must never be made to feel that they should have been able to prevent these things.

Josephine Kim, an American mental health expert who, like Cho, emigrated from South Korea at the age of eight, was quoted as saying: "I think we failed him as a society at large. I think our community failed him, the school system failed him, and definitely the immigrant life really failed him."

The mother of Stephanie Gestier, expressing her grief online, wrote the following words: "There is nothing that couldn't have been sorted out. You were my only child and can never be replaced."

Regret is a difficult taskmaster. And while it is only natural for us to look back and ask, "What if?", it affords us little comfort and even less hope. It deals with the past and, unfortunately, we cannot change the past.

For friends and family, there must now be time for mourning. They don't need to be strong, they can simply weep. For the rest of us, we would do well to take a moment before we move on to the next headline. It is healthy to pause, and reflect and examine. After all, both of these situations are the sad final chapters of people who felt they had nothing left. Suicide is not the choice of those whose lives are brimming with hope.

Most of the reports and websites about the Virginia Tech shootings list 32 victims. Yet there were actually 33. For Cho also died on that day. That it was by his own hand does not make it any less a tragedy.

What can we learn? What can we take from these stories of young people who chose death over life?

We all realise we cannot stop headlines such as these, but there are small things each of us can do to help instil hope in those around us.

We can speak easily and non-judgmentally about depression. A Turkish proverb teaches that he who conceals his grief finds no remedy for it. As one to in five Australians will experience depression at some stage in their life, we must initiate and continue regular discussions about this illness, and its treatment.

We must continue to destigmatise mental health issues and encourage a supportive attitude so that no one feels they need conceal such soul grief, and can share this with family and friends.

Further, each of us can consider the contribution we make to the lives of those around us. Even the most introverted of us influence those around us and contribute to their experiences. Do we contribute kindness, understanding and love or do we contribute judgment, mockery and alienation?

Particularly when those we interact with are more difficult to love, we can easily brush them aside, caught up in our own busy day and full lives.

It's easier that way. But it's not better.

Someone once said: "Never deprive someone of hope; it might be all they have."
It's true that the way we treat those around us can either inject hope into their souls or drain it away.

Taking the time to treat even difficult people with dignity and with love can present a challenge, but it is one that we can, and should, continue to rise to. The significance of a word of encouragement, a kind deed, sharing a meal or similar, can be just the thing that strengthens a weary soul.

It's true that we can't do everything, and it's also true that we can do something. What will you do today?

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Within You to go Without

2007-04-28T18:26:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 14 March 2007

TALKING about sex can make some people feel uncomfortable but not for the reasons you might think. One of the most uncomfortable things you can talk about these days with regard to sex is, ironically, not having it.

Bob Geldof recognised this when he was discussing the effectiveness of abstinence-based approaches to combating the AIDS epidemic in Africa. Late last year he said: "It works. It's uncomfortable for people to speak these unspoken truths but a lot of that stuff is working."

We're a highly sexualised society. We like to think of sex as a badge of our maturity and freedom. We don't like to entertain public discourse about not having sex, or the benefits of sexual fidelity. It makes us feel uncomfortable, as it means we have to challenge the prevailing norms.

These norms are revealed in our public conversation about sex.

The interestingly high numbers of reports on the legal prostitution industry lately are almost always vigorously attempting to dignify this arena of sexual activity.

Another recent report tells of Patrick Stuebing and Susan Karolewski, a brother and sister in Germany in an incestuous relationship. Several groups are defending the relationship, arguing that people should be given the right to "freedom of choice and sexual determination".

A South Australian Government website, educating young adults as to how to avoid sexually transmitted infections, includes the interesting advice: "You could choose not to have sex at all and this is OK for some, but not realistic for all people".

What is the social norm that these reveal? It's the underpinning assumption that we cannot "not have sex", as we cannot control ourselves and are merely slaves to our sexual whims and desires. That assumption can make us feel a little powerless.

So we drop any notion of self-control from discussions about sexual activity and dress it up instead in the idea of self-determination.

The lawyer who is taking Stuebing and Karolewski's incestuous relationship to the High Court of Germany gave a stark illustration of this when he said: "Everyone should be able to do what he wants as long as it doesn't harm others."

However, as much as it can make us feel uncomfortable, we must remind ourselves that unrestrained sexuality can be costly.

Prostitution is harmful. The Coalition Against Trafficking in Women, Australia, reveals that "state endorsement of prostitution intensifies the commodification of women's bodies and greatly expands the illegal, as well as legal, sectors of the industry".

Dr Mary Anne Layden, director of the Sexual Trauma and Psychopathology Program for the University of Pennsylvania Health System, labels prostitution as sexual abuse for money.

Incest is harmful. The four children produced by Stuebing and Karolewski are now all in care. Two of them are severely disabled and unable either to walk or talk.

The rampant sexual lifestyle we encourage our young people to indulge in is harmful. Sexually transmitted infections are endemic, along with unplanned pregnancies, abortions and emotional harm.

So why do we feel uncomfortable speaking these unspoken truths?

We have embraced the idea that man is the measure of all things, and that we are our own arbiter of right and wrong. We determine morality, ethics and acceptable behaviour.
We want to be our own masters – to be free.

But do we really know what freedom is? Lord Acton said it well when he stated: "Liberty is the prevention of control by others. This requires self-control and, therefore, religious and spiritual influences; education, knowledge, well-being."

If we so desire to avoid being controlled by others, then we must be able to control ourselves. However, we have excused morally questionable behaviour with the idea that we can't help it. We eschew the idea that we can discipline our many appetites to be satiated at appropriate times and in a correct way.

Hence, our advice to our young that abstinence, or self-control, is "not realistic" for all. Just a question though – why do we expect self-control from them in other arenas?

Can being over the limit at a random breath test be excused by "not drinking and driving is OK for some, but not realistic for all"?

After all, this is what government is teaching us. By ridiculing the idea of self-control in regards to sexuality, yet demanding it in other areas, we have exposed ourselves as hypocrites.
That, more than anything, should make us feel uncomfortable.

George Washington said: "Confirm thy soul in self-control."

It's time we started to restore the soul of our society – and embrace the idea that we can be more than what we've settled for.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and writer

Beauty not just for the well-heeled

2007-03-14T17:47:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 2 March 07

A few weeks ago, I bought a fabulous pair of shoes -- red, shiny and very, very high!
They are not exactly practical, and are far from sensible, but they're wonderful -- and have elicited a surprising number of admiring comments. Now I would be the first to admit that things such as shoes aren't particularly important in the grand scheme of things.
The shoes we wear are in no way a measure of the person we are.
Nevertheless, it has been a really interesting experience.
I've even been surprised at the spring they have added to my step -- once I learnt to walk in them, of course. I think it's because there's not a chance that they exist for sensibility -- but because they are beautiful.
Beauty is a funny thing. In one way, we are obsessed with it -- when it relates to people. There are those who make a fortune precisely because they are physically beautiful.
We worship external perfection with entire industries simultaneously making us feel inadequate, while being supported by our dollars, as we hope we can look better. It's our unhealthy obsession. And yet, the opposite extreme is just as unhealthy.
We can get so driven by the need to be efficient, to be practical and useful that we scorn the idea of beauty in place of utility. We get so focused on achieving and getting things done that beauty isn't just relegated to the bottom of the list -- it doesn't even make the cut.
This may make us highly efficient, but it doesn't nourish the soul.
We were meant to live with beauty. We were designed to allow it a place in our world, not as master, but as servant. Our lives should be a place where beauty lives and breathes -- infusing the practical with a sense of delight and joy.
We don't have to measure everything in a utilitarian sense, whether it is economically or otherwise. Beauty can be purpose enough.
It would be a mistake though to simply understand beauty in one sense, for beauty can be found in so many manifestations. A flower cut from the garden can help us appreciate beauty. Time taken with friends, for no purpose other than enjoying each other's company, is a thing of beauty.
A child's misshapen handiwork, a fresh batch of biscuits, and even a pair of great high heels -- all of these things can add beauty to our life.
For each of us it is different.
For some, the time spent gardening, cultivating and coaxing life from the earth can be enjoying beauty -- and yet others dread the thought.
The secret is learning to look for that which reveals beauty to you, and make a place for it in your heart, and in your diary. Of course, there are some things we all agree are beautiful -- a kind word, when undeserved; forgiveness, when unearned; love, unconditional. If these are absent, our pursuit of beauty will always leave us wanting, for a heart that doesn't contain beauty can never truly embrace it.
What is it that nurtures your soul? What beauty adds the song to your day? If we don't take the time to find out, we become devoid of life, replaced simply by duty.
It's never too late or too hard.
Dale E Turner said: ``Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born.'' And, I'd add, perhaps a pair of great high heels -- just waiting to be found.
Ruth Limkin

Reaching out

2007-03-14T17:46:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 17 Jan 07

THEY say every dark cloud has a silver lining.
The sex fiends attacking women on walking paths around our city are one of the clouds casting a shadow over Brisbane. Their behaviour is inexcusable and we trust that community response and determined police work will eventually see them brought to justice -- hopefully sooner rather than later.
The public response to The Courier-Mail's Walk Without Fear rally on Sunday has shown a strength and determination not to be cowed by fear but to stand strong -- together.
Here we get a glimpse of the silver lining -- an obviously growing sense of togetherness among women, of looking out for one another.
Neighbours who used to walk separately are now getting to know each other and walking together. Women are starting unofficial walking clubs and taking the chance to exercise safely while enjoying the company of friends.
One of the comments from someone who attended the Walk Without Fear rally was illuminating. She said: ``I've buddied up with a girl who lives around the corner. I used to see her around, but I noticed she'd stop walking, so we go walking together now. It's really great and you get a new friend.''
The benefits of a strongly knit community are often missing from our busy commuter lifestyles. Our diaries are full -- sometimes too full. Parents log many hours and many kilometres ferrying children from rehearsal to training to recitals. Career couples synchronise to ensure they at least know each other's schedule even if they don't share it. University students balance an increasingly difficult mix of study and work. We work longer hours to get more money to pay off bigger houses that require more maintenance. And life continues -- and wears us out. Who has the time or the emotional energy needed to make new friends? So we park in our garage, close the door and go inside to continue our activity-filled lives, or simply collapse on the couch.
In times of national prosperity such as that we are experiencing now, so many of us seem to just keep spending, and are generally able to be self-supporting (with the help of a credit card or two).
We feel as if we can generally manage by ourselves, so we are less likely to take that step outside our world and into the world of another.
And we give rise to observations such as those by Herbert Prochnow, a US banking executive and author, who said: ``A city is a large community where people are lonesome together.''
But then something happens that acts as a reminder that we need each other.
While no one wishes for a terrible series of events such as those we are facing, sometimes it is these adversities that can cause us to reach out to one another. We become aware of those around us and, maybe for the first time, say hello when passing rather than staying lost in our thoughts.
Just maybe we are remembering -- remembering what it was like when we made space for others in our lives and, in fact, needed each other. We listen to that yearning within us to know and be known, to share joy and tears and life itself, with those around us.
Ralph Nader said: ``When strangers start acting like neighbours . . . communities are reinvigorated.'' It seems the women of Brisbane are doing just that -- acting like neighbours, looking out for each other, building relationships -- and reinvigorating the community.
As we are reminded of the richness that relationships bring to our life, we are encouraged and energised to nurture them. The walking clubs may develop into a monthly barbecue with their families. The women who team up on the pathways may decide to explore and discover great cafes around the place -- perfect for an espresso and some conversation. We may begin to share our hearts, and not just our morning exercise.
Of course, this carries a risk -- trust can be betrayed, and friends can let you down. But you don't let the risk of a sprained ankle put you off walking, because you know the health benefits exercise brings.
In the same way, relationships and a strong community help contribute to our emotional, mental and social health -- and it's worth the risk.
It's early days yet, and we could still retreat back into an isolated crowd -- but maybe not.
We can't walk alone at the moment -- but at least it reminds us that we were never meant to do this journey of life by ourselves either.

Ruth Limkin

All You Need is Love

2007-01-05T18:06:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 1 Jan 07

CHRISTMAS is over. The presents have been opened (and in some cases, returned), the fridge is full of leftovers, we've survived New Year's Eve and our thoughts are turning towards the year ahead – and how we will strive to do better.

The lull during this time of year brings a welcome relief from the madness of the pre-Christmas rush. Time to read a book, watch some cricket and reflect on the year that was and the year that is to come.

Reflection is a wonderful habit all too often crowded out of our diaries – yet provides a chance to examine and adjust the lives we live. We can get so bent out of shape by the pace and consumption of modern living that some fine-tuning can be helpful.

A recent event reminded me of this. Dropping my husband and some colleagues to the airport for an early flight a few weeks before Christmas, we pulled into the passenger set down zone for a moment to unload luggage and for me to change seats. On my way from the passenger seat to the driver's seat, I gave my husband the customary quick airport goodbye cuddle and told him I loved him.

Another traveller apparently felt inconvenienced by this display of affection and grumbled to us "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I love you too – can you get out of the way?" A fellow obviously awash with the season's tidings of goodwill! What would cause such a reaction?

We face a new year, with all the promise and hope of new beginnings. Resolutions get considered. Some get made, and some get discarded. Yet we have that nagging feeling in the back of our mind that this new year will be simply the same as last year – busy, and strangely empty. We fill our lives with activity of every kind, yet sometimes we forget to leave some room for love.

In the same way, the gentleman at the airport was too busy to create space for love, we can fill our lives with activity and miss the most important things. Many of us will have spent time recently trying to have a "perfect" Christmas, yet how many of us spent time reconciling broken relationships, building new ones or strengthening the ones that matter most?

Ironically, when life becomes stressed we lash out and argue with those who are closest to us. Love can often be missing in action.

The consumerism each of us are wooed by encourages us to spend money we don't have on things we don't need. We can fill our lives with all the trappings money can buy and it won't make a difference if we don't make room for love.

Yet it doesn't have to be like that. Offering a smile to those around us, choosing to let someone else go first, being patient and gracious as we attend to our daily tasks – making room for love.

As we consider our new year, and what we wish for it, it's a good time to remind ourselves about the values we just celebrated. The first Christmas was less about the material things and more about love entering our world. Now, as then, some people made room for the message of Christmas, and some didn't. Even today, we have a choice.

German-born American philosopher and psychoanalyst Eric Fromm once said: "Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence." Material things will not fill the emptiness, and a splendid cuisine won't satiate a hungry heart – but love will.

As the list of New Year resolutions are finalised, perhaps we need to add a few things? Forgiveness, patience, and kindness are all the essence of love yet must be intentionally cultivated.

This new year, why not choose love over all else? When love is present, it's the most wonderful gift of all.

Ruth Limkin

Learning Life's Lessons

2006-11-30T22:17:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 28 November 2006

I WAS less than shocked when I read that police had said this was one of the drunkest Schoolies on record.
As a Schoolies volunteer this year, I had watched with sadness as parents checked in their children while carrying in carton after carton of alcohol for them to consume.

While their formal high school education may have finished, there were still lessons that society was teaching them.

There had been warnings in the week leading up to Schoolies that under-age drinkers and those who supply them would be charged.

If we were serious about that, it would have been exceptionally easy to do – just wait at each hotel during check-in time.

But we expect Schoolies to break the law, and taught them that we would ignore the law.

After all, even though it might be illegal, if your parents are supplying the alcohol, obviously you are being expected to drink.

It seems that society's addiction with alcohol has effectively turned parents into drug pushers.

Dr Christopher Record, a liver disease consultant based in Newcastle who advocates for a change in society's attitude towards alcohol to mirror concerns over smoking, says: "Society tolerates alcohol abuse. You cannot expect young people not to drink when the whole of society is drinking excessively."

He's right of course, but few of us want to listen.

Some of the same parents who supplied the highly alcoholic drinks, were the same who were getting teary at the thought of leaving their kids in such an environment for a week.

Anxiety was etched into their faces as they left.

It puzzles me that mums and dads can drop off their beautiful young daughters and supply them with so much alcohol, knowing what situations that will place their children in.

Why do we make it so hard for parents to say no to supplying alcohol to their kids?

Why do we not support their often unspoken request that their children be able to celebrate the end of school in a safe and healthy environment?

Then, as parents are driving away from the coast, two types of adults are arriving.

One group are the "Toolies" – older people who are there to exploit vulnerable young people.

However, there is another group, increasing every year. They are the Schoolies volunteers who arrive at Surfers Paradise ready to be a helping hand or a listening ear.

Adults of all ages, and from a variety of community organisations, roam the streets ready to offer assistance when needed.

The reception that volunteers get from the Schoolies themselves is one of genuine thankfulness.

They recognise that these people are here to help, and they appreciate it.

They're also slightly puzzled – why would we spend our own money to go to Schoolies and help?

Why would we place ourselves in sometimes uncomfortable or stomach-churning situations when we're not getting paid to do so? Why would we give our time to them? Maybe this is one of the other lessons we can teach our young people during Schoolies – that each of us has the power to make choices.

We can be those who live for our own comfort, and ourselves, or we can be those who live generously and help support others.

We can show them that our choices can go against what "everyone" is doing and chart our own purposeful course.

In a society that largely revolves around consumption and self, the idea of self-sacrifice resonates with our young people.

They may be slightly puzzled by it all, but the idea has a certain attraction.

Our young people, by large, are not terrible hooligans.

They are simply trying to work out how to live now in the world we have given them.

We have a responsibility to point them to a life worth living – one of hope, love and generosity. That would be the greatest lesson we can pass on.

Killer Stroke for Humanity

2006-11-13T10:18:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 10 Nov 06

WE ARE creating for ourselves an unconsidered world. We think we are making decisions for others yet we are, in reality, making decisions for ourselves. Perhaps unwittingly, we have argued away our own value.

Three recent events paint a sobering picture for humanity.

This week's vote to clone humans in embryo form is one. Faced with making a decision with profound ethical consequences, our senators willingly or unwittingly passed a value judgment on you, and me, and themselves.

Choosing to follow dubious and confusing scientific advice, chasing the dream of miracle cures, our politicians clearly communicated that the scientific exploitation of humans is OK.

Ironically, an amendment was put forward, and accepted, to exclude animal eggs from cloning to prevent exploitation of animals. Commendable, but why not give the same protection for people?

We try to rationalise that it is OK to kill two-week embryos. We can't visually recognise the humanity of the baby. We're convinced we can put boundaries in place.

Or maybe not. Britain's Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecology has proposed this week that doctors be able to kill disabled newborns. They suggest that a disabled child means a disabled family. (I'd call them a courageous and compassionate family instead, but perhaps that's beside the point.)

Discussing his support for this proposal, Professor John Harris, of the UK Government's Human Genetics Commission, suggested it was a logical progression of late-term abortion.

"What do people think has happened in the passage down the birth canal to make it OK to kill the fetus at one end of the birth canal but not at the other?" he asked.

He's right, of course, but that does not necessarily mean we should kill newborns. Maybe it tells us we should rethink abortion.

We have started treating humans as commodities and assessing them according to their perceived economic or social value. We will clone them, use them to possibly advantage us and destroy them. We will allow them to live only if they have what we deem as a life of quality and usefulness.

Such a utilitarian approach to life denies the inherent value of humanity and sets us up as judge and jury over another. That is arrogance in the extreme.

A young Brisbane man was born 23 years age without arms or legs. While doctors assessed his situation as hopeless, his parents, with emotional, spiritual and practical support, were determined to give him every opportunity. He now lives a largely independent life and travels internationally as a motivational speaker, largely to high-school students.

If he was conceived or born now, it would be assumed his situation was hopeless and it would be more "merciful" to kill him. That should trouble us.

Furthermore, while we expressed outrage and disgust at the recent attack by a group of teenagers on a disabled woman in Melbourne, we expose our own hypocrisy by condemning that crime yet championing abortion or infanticide for the disabled.

Aren't people inherently valuable no matter how long it's been since their conception? Aren't you?

Our young people reveal to us the reality our decisions are creating. We have been able to live off the moral and spiritual inheritance afforded us by the Judeo-Christian underpinnings of this nation. However, we have squandered this and without continuing investment we are close to finding ourselves morally bankrupt.

Just this week, our young people have reflected back to us the implications of the world view demonstrated in the cloning vote.

As a young German woman stood on the edge of a high-rise ready to jump, a crowd of spectators gathered. A group of teenagers in the crowd started yelling out and encouraging the woman to jump and kill herself.

Some homeless people in the crowd took exception to this and used strong language telling the teenagers that what they were doing was wrong, and a punch-up ensued.

It seems teenagers have correctly extrapolated the values we have taught them, whether it is attacking a disabled woman or encouraging someone to kill themselves. We may not like what that reveals to us, but we would be wise to consider it – and then perhaps, reconsider.

Ruth Limkin is a Brisbane pastor and social commentator

From his heart to ours

2006-09-23T09:39:00.000+10:00

Unpublished

I still remember where I was when I heard that Princess Diana was dead. And I think I shall forever remember the moment I heard the sad and shocking news about Steve Irwin’s tragic death.

There are moments in life when time stops still temporarily and the busy buzz of the background noise, which normally fills our every waking moment, dims to a gentle murmur. This was one of those times.

I received seven different emails from friends within an hour, as they independently emailed me with the news. I jumped on to the internet, searching inundated news sites. I tried, in vain, to get onto the Australia Zoo website, which was obviously overwhelmed with Internet traffic.

Australia, and a good part of the global community, was both shocked and deeply saddened. Incredible scenes soon followed of crowds going to the Irwin’s Australia Zoo and leaving flowers, notes and mementos. We witnessed grown men and women grief-stricken as they visited what had become a shrine to a man they never personally knew. Steve’s death seems to have affected us deeply.

It’s partly, of course, because we think of Terri, his wife, and his two young children, Bindi and Bob. It’s always hard for a family to lose a loving father, but particularly so for a young family. Yet there seems to be something deeper. Steve’s death has brought a palpable grief to our community in a way that I haven’t seen for a long time. We seem to be grieving for more than a man.

As the profile of “The Crocodile Hunter” grew, Australians embraced him in such a way that he became a part of our cultural identity. We loved Steve, not just for his concern for nature and wildlife, but for the other values he embodied that we admired. While we may not have recognised it at the time, he was teaching us about life.

Steve was a man who lived with passion, and lived life to the full. In our busy, modern, world, we often find we’re being pulled in many directions and can find it difficult to be fully present in a moment. We looked on Steve almost with envy at his ability to be so wholly involved in whatever he was doing at the time – whether it was with his children, or out in the wild, or at his beloved zoo. In an age of cynicism and weariness of soul, here was a man who modelled what it was to live differently, and he awakened in us a hunger for that within our own lives.

Steve Irwin also lived for a cause bigger than himself. He and Terri’s incredibly impressive track record of nature conservation, at a personal financial cost, spoke to us of people who gave much more than lip-service, or token concern, for the things they believed were important. It’s a message that stands distinct from so many of the other messages we hear each day. The anthems of our society generally have more to do with being individualistic and self-centred, and are driven by consumerism most of the time. We soon learn that life is about us, and what we can get. Is it any wonder then, that Steve’s life message stood out in such contrast, and captivated a nation?

As we discuss what would be a fitting memorial to Steve Irwin, perhaps we should also spend some time on personal reflection. What was it about his life that resonated so deeply with us, and how can we embody that in some small way? Perhaps in the end, a community of people who live more passionately, and more selflessly, would be the most meaningful tribute of all.

We miss you Steve Irwin. May you rest in peace.

Ruth Limkin

The tragic truth we cannot bear to hear

2006-09-18T19:22:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 1 Sep 06

I realise that we’re not having a national abortion debate at the moment – officially – but nevertheless, it is being increasingly discussed at the moment. At the centre of this are women, and men, with an unplanned child on the way, which can be a vulnerable and anxious time. They deserve no less than the truth.

Senator Stott Despoja’s Private Members Bill into pregnancy counselling, which prompted the recent Senate inquiry, was prompted by her concern that women were being misled by pregnancy counselling services who don’t advocate abortion and who are being deceptive in their advertising.

Some of the examples of this deception were detailed in the Senate inquiry report handed down recently. For example, some of the pregnancy counselling services are saying, among other things, that ‘terminating the pregnancy is akin to killing the baby’.

Why would the counselling services say this? I wonder if it’s because a baby’s heart starts beating 3 weeks from conception? Perhaps they wanted to let women know that a baby’s first brain waves are recorded at 6 weeks, and that in-utero babies have been seen to suck their thumb at 7 weeks.

Why are people upset that some counselling services are disclosing the enormity of what happens in an abortion? Why are the ‘pro-choice’ movement happy with an innocuous sounding phrase - terminating a pregnancy - yet are so upset with language which recognises that the baby is alive before the abortion, and dead after the procedure? After all, it is a statement that is factually correct. But it is terrible.

An unknown author once wrote, “It's not hard to find the truth. What is hard is not to run away from it once you have found it.”

It’s not hard to find out what happens in an abortion and what stage the baby has developed to in the womb. We have enough science and enough evidence to seriously question, if not outright dismiss, the idea that it’s not a baby ‘yet’ and that we are not doing something incredibly unethical when we allow doctors to invade a woman’s body and remove the life flourishing within it.

It’s just that we don’t like to hear that and prefer to run away, because that truth could be devastating in it’s emotional, and perhaps even litigious, repercussions.

And that’s where some of the extreme pro-life movements have got it wrong in the past too. Truth can be a hard task-master. To confront men and women with the truth of what they have been a party to, without offering a grace that can heal the very wounds that truth may expose is counter-productive. All that does is increase how quickly and how far we run from the truth we cannot bear.

I can’t help but wonder how well the abortion industry would continue to flourish in this nation if women were being given the truth? The whole truth – rather than being fed a steady diet of half-truths about the nature of pregnancy termination, couched in palatable ideology of self-determination and quasi-feminism? What would happen to the very large amounts of money being made by doctors who perform abortions if women were encouraged to think of other options such as keeping the baby or adopting it out?

In what is a sometimes-bitter debate, the pro-choice movement often claims the high moral ground and accuse others of denying women their right to information. Ironically, those who claim the moniker pro-choice rarely engage in serious discussion about life-affirming alternatives to abortion.

I wholeheartedly agree that women should not be misled when they are seeking advice about an unplanned pregnancy. However, the answer in all of this debate is not ‘pro-choice’ or ‘anti-choice’. It is pro-woman. And an increasing body of evidence is suggesting that it is difficult to be pro-woman in a holistic sense if we are also unquestioningly pro-abortion.

Senator Stott Despoja was right. There is a lot of deception occurring in the abortion industry, and men and women are being misled. It’s just that she may have picked the wrong parties to go after. Unmasking the so-called hidden bias is trivial compared with unmasking an industry feeding off destructive and devastating lies. After all, the wise understand that without truth, there really is no freedom.

Ruth Limkin

Try to swap difficulties for determination

2006-09-18T19:09:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 13 July 06

One red paperclip. 14 trades. One amazing story! In what must be one of the best feel good stories of recent days, Kyle MacDonald, of Quebec Canada, did the improbable by effectively trading one red paperclip for a house. Yep - a house. It’s two storeys, recently renovated, and situated at 503 Main Street, Kipling Saskatchewan. (The town is also throwing in a key to the city!) He did it in only 14 trades and in one year, officially taking possession of the house on 12 July 2006.

Kyle had been renting in Quebec but decided he wanted to own a house. He didn’t have enough money for a house, but he did have one red paperclip. Kyle placed in his faith in the concept of relative value – that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. So, with a big dream, and a whole lot of determination, he embarked on his quest. And he achieved what few thought was possible.

Stories like this are water to the soul. When we’re constantly reminded of the problems in this world and the dark and violent side of human nature, stories such as this shine forth and captivate us. Kyle’s blog had over 3,800,000 hits, as people from around the world heard about the guy who was trading a red paperclip for a house. We want to be a part of great stories. We want to celebrate a win. We want to remind ourselves that wonderful things can happen.

Winston Churchill once said, “The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” And some of us can see a house in a paperclip.

It takes courage to face the challenges life brings us, and to still dare to dream that we can make a difference. It’s easier to simply throw our hands up and admit defeat, or to point the finger of blame at our parents, our children, the government, or society. And yet we only hurt ourselves by doing so. If we never unleash the passion and determination that enriches life we end up all the poorer for it.

The attitude we approach life with literally defines our days. For even though we may go through seasons of difficulties, those with a positive attitude will always end up stronger and more resilient. Those with a can-do approach refuse to be beaten down, won’t give up looking for a solution, and will persevere until their dreams are fulfilled.

Could the reason the red paperclip story has captivated so many people is that we resonate with daring greatly? We may have grown weary but we still want to live significant lives. It’s here that our celebrated western individualism has tripped us up. Thinking we have to go it alone, and just be strong, we have forgotten one vital component.

Kyle MacDonald could never have got that house without people who were willing to be part of his journey and cheer him on. Like Kyle, each of us needs people who can be a source of strength and encouragement. Similarly, we have the privilege of being that for others. Life’s too short to be mean-spirited. Those who encourage others often find that they themselves are bolstered. A few kind words or a simple act of generosity can be all someone needs to spur them on.

We can live passionately and greatly. We need courage to dream big, determination to stay positive, and people who will encourage us. And every so often, we just need to remember how one guy from Canada turned a red paperclip into a house.

Caution urged on gay unions

2006-06-17T13:28:00.000+10:00

PUBLISHED in the Courier Mail 16 June 06

AUSSIES are generally a laid-back lot and rally around the idea of a fair go for all.

So it was surprising last week when public polling repeatedly revealed that we weren't supporting the idea of legal gay unions put forward by the ACT.

Does this point to a nation filled with hateful or fearful people? Have we suddenly become mean-spirited and judgmental? I'm sure there are those who would say we have.

The term homophobic is tossed around with abandon and those who dare to question the widespread promotion of homosexual activity are sure to be labelled as such. This is highly unfortunate.

More than often this label is incorrect and increasingly unhelpful for genuine, caring discussion. After all, most rationally minded people would realise you can disagree with a philosophy without being afraid of it. (It happens with a Judaeo-Christian ethic all the time.) However, people are reluctant to publicly question the idea of same-sex unions as they would be faced with vitriolic rebuke.

Case in point is the response of ACT Attorney-General Simon Corbell to the Howard Government decision to overturn their gay unions law. He said "it is a homophobic decision . . . it is arrogant and undemocratic".

It's a strange comment, considering the response of the Australian public to gay unions, as the Federal Government's decision is more in line with the spirit of democracy than that of the ACT Government.

So why have so many of the recent polls indicated that Aussies aren't in favour of such a thing as unions or marriage between two people of the same gender? I don't think people are scared. I don't think our nation has suddenly decided to become hostile.

I do think though that many people are capable of making a distinction between dealing compassionately with individuals while still being able to discern what cultural principles and values will build a strong society.

I wonder if there was a large disagreement with the notion of same-sex unions because so many people realise the foundational nature of the concept of marriage.

We have a deep feeling that the idea of marriage being between a man and woman is somehow intrinsically connected to the fabric and strength of our society. Our society has always recognised this relationship as the unit around which society is built. After all, it's opposite-sex relationships that produce children, and as children are born, a society grows.

Same-sex relationships cannot produce children. This is not a statement of prejudice or discrimination, simply recognition of the limitations inherent in same-sex relationships.

While no one is naively suggesting that opposite sex relationships are always idyllic, there is still a fundamental agreement that this is how our society best works – generationally.

The many things that make it a challenge to maintain strong healthy marriages are not reason to abandon the idea. To legally change what we recognise as marriage and marriage-like relationships is a defining moment for a nation as it is such relationships that we entrust to the next generation.

The public's response shows that we do not want our laws to enshrine dramatic changes to our social foundations before we have a full and honest discussion about the ramifications. The ability to do so, rather than make an emotive decision, is a mark of a society's maturity.

It's not wrong, or hateful, or fearful, to want to proceed cautiously and carefully with any changes to the accepted and endorsed family structure. It's responsible and wise.

Prudence is not a vice. Let those who desire to convince us of the societal benefit of same-sex relationships put their case. Marriage is an institution that long precedes us, and one that should remain long after we have gone. Tinkering with it is reckless but inverting it even more so.

Ruth Limkin

God increasingly missing from public life

2006-05-22T10:39:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 22 May 06

The last few weeks has seen an interesting juxtaposition of community and civic responses to the place of God in our society.

Our legislative leaders and their bureaucrats seem to be quietly yet increasingly removing references to God from our public life.

The Beattie Government’s desire to make changes to Religious Education in state schools, in which they would effectively sideline education about Christianity, is one example. They seem to forget, or ignore, that it’s the Judeo-Christian value system which provides the philosophical underpinnings of our nation and way of life.

Also recently, the decision to remove Bibles from bedsides in several Queensland hospitals is indicative of the stance of our civic officials that God and our Judeo-Christian ethic should be increasingly marginalized from public life. One wonders at the motivation behind such a decision. One excuse was that it was to reduce the transmission of infection. That seems a little weak though – or the well-thumbed magazines in patient lounges would also be binned.

Officially at least, God doesn’t seem to be very welcome in Queensland.

However, back in the real world, we see a very different picture being painted.

If we examine the grassroots responses to some current events, such as the Beaconsfield situation, and the accident of little Sophie Delezio, we see a different picture emerging of what the community psyche is.

As footage and reports rolled out from Beaconsfield about the rescue effort at the mine, we were asked to pray – not just by those we’d expect it from, but by media representatives, union leaders, our Prime Minister and even each other. For many long days, we watched – and yes, many of us prayed. In fact, even the non-religious amongst us told of their short but sincere prayer of thanks when the miracle we’d hoped for occurred and Todd Russell and Brant Webb were rescued.

In the midst of that, we were shocked to hear the latest tragedy to befall young Sophie Delezio. Injured previously, when a car crashed into a kindergarten, Sophie had been hit once again by a car and flung metres into the air. The horror was almost incomprehensible and it was staggering that one family had to endure this again.

Sophie’s tearful mum had one request of Australians. Rushing to the hospital, she pleaded with us to pray – and we responded by doing just that. Recent days have seen her recovery described by doctors and media as a miracle. It appears that removing bibles from hospital bedsides is a little out of touch with community sentiment.

We can argue all we want about the separation of church and state – an American concept by the way, not an Australian one - however, our response to crisis tells us a lot about our deepest beliefs.

Jean Vanier, the founder of L’Arch communities for those with development disabilities said, “Life is a succession of crises and moments when we have to rediscover who we are and what we really want.”

Over the last few weeks, these crises have taught us something about ourselves as a nation. It gave us a chance to rediscover who we are, in the face of political correctness and a skewed notion of public tolerance that shuts down honest dialogue.

I would suggest we rediscovered that, in the hearts and minds of a great many Australians, there does exist a place for God. We don’t need to be ashamed of that, or fearful of admitting it.

In fact, it is only as we honestly acknowledge what our hearts tell us that we can start to have some proper conversations about the part God may, or may not, play in our civic life. But to assert that the Judeo-Christian worldview means little or nothing to Australians, or has lost its relevance, is at best uninformed, and at worst arrogant.

And as a nation, we can do better than that.

Ruth Limkin

Pre-mix drinks a dangerous teenage brew

2006-04-10T09:51:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 10 April 06

THERE'S something comforting about chocolate milk when you're a child. Mix it with vodka though, and it becomes a treacherous brew – not just because of the alcohol in it but because you can't even tell it's there.

Research released by the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre revealed teens can't distinguish between a normal chocolate milk, and one pre-mixed with vodka. Such pre-mixed drinks have been heavily marketed to young people over the past 10 years and have become the drink of choice among underage drinkers – in dangerous quantities.

In the past month in Australia, 35 per cent of teenage males and 22 per cent of teenage females will have drunk between nine and 30 drinks in one day. In one year, our nation's already overburdened hospitals have to treat more than 72,000 admissions caused by high-risk drinking. In fact, the social cost of alcohol to Australia was recently reported at $7.5 billion a year.

Australia has a problem. We nod our head and agree but no-one wants to own it. While it's true that the reasons behind dangerous drinking are complex and multi-faceted, that doesn't allow us all to simply eschew ownership of the problem. People under 24 have reported that the main reason they drink is to fit in on social occasions.

Considering you and I have created the society they are trying to fit into, we must take some ownership of this problem. We shape the culture that allows and tacitly condones risky underage drinking by normalising the use and abuse of alcohol.

Research into at-risk drinkers, conducted by the National Alcohol Strategy for the Commonwealth Department of Health and Ageing, provided insight into the assumptions held within our society. "Alcohol is perceived to be liberating and empowering. Getting drunk is a badge of being an adult and drinking is one of the significant 'rites of passage' into adulthood," it reported.

Consider how often you've heard the comment that someone needs a drink to relax or loosen up a little? How many parents do you know who have gone out and bought alcohol for their underage son or daughter? Have you ever heard the misadventures of inebriated friends or acquaintances being affectionately or admiringly retold? Every time these things happen, we are building a culture and we are forming social norms.

If we want to deal with the problem of underage drinking, we must be honest enough to realise that this can't be dealt with in isolation from wider community views on alcohol.

That demands we ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions.

For instance, do we feel we can shed inhibitions, or become emboldened without alcohol? Can we conceive of social events without alcohol to ease social awkwardness? Is alcohol really a compulsory part of life, necessary for us to enjoy ourselves? Until we examine our own assumptions about alcohol, and why we hold them, we cannot begin to develop the foundations for a holistic strategy to reduce at-risk behaviour.

After all, the answers to these questions shape the norms of the society that influence our young people.

Youth binge drinking will not be solved quickly and it will take courage and bold thinking to address it. We must genuinely examine our own thoughts and attitudes towards alcohol and then seek to integrate these with the message we give our young people.

If we don't, young people will rightly dismiss our advice as hypocritical. We are the message and we must embody and live out the values we wish to advocate. Anything less and our message will be as hard to distinguish as alcohol in a pre-mixed drink.

When actions speak louder than words

2006-04-03T08:51:00.000+10:00

Watching the extensive television coverage of Cyclone Larry in recent days, I was filled with a certain pride at how Australians had responded to this terrible crisis. Neighbours helping neighbours; communal bbqs cooking up all the food that would spoil without electricity to keep it frozen; volunteer personnel flying in to the disaster zone ready to help. Aussies helping Aussies.

And what Australian didn’t walk a little taller when we heard that President Bush had offered assistance, but we’d graciously declined? While international aid was offered in kindness, we’re understandably proud of the fact that we could look after it ourselves. We’re Aussies after all – we champion the underdog and rise quickly to a tragedy with both compassion and action.

Certainly, crisis, while never welcomed, provides us an opportunity to learn about ourselves by the way we responsd. Jean Vanier, who founded the L’Arch communities for people with developmental disabilities, said, “Life is a succession of crises and moments when we have to rediscover who we are and what we really want.” Australia is only a young country, in relative terms, but we still have to rediscover who we are.

Author John Garner recognised the importance of renewing identity when he wrote, “Values always decay over time. Societies that keep their values alive do so, not by escaping the process of decay but by powerful processes of regeneration. There must be a perpetual rebuilding. Each generation must rediscover the living elements of its own tradition and adapt them to present realities.”

While we have a society founded on the Judeo-Christian ethic, we have many different value systems to consider. Materialism is often promoted, which denies God and relies only on what we can see and touch. We have been taught the theory of evolution, which celebrates natural selection and its idea of survival of the fittest and elimination of the weak. Some cultures that have come to this nation have beliefs and social systems based on karma. They logically conclude that the poor are receiving what they deserve from former lives lived badly, and their current situation is justified and hardly alterable.

While we welcome invite many people to join this nation, we must not shrink from continually rediscovering what type of society we want to be and regenerate the values that build such a strong and attractive society.

Cyclone Larry has afforded us such an opportunity. As a community we have chosen to look after the weakest among us. We have chosen to “do unto others as we would want them to do unto us.”

We acted almost instinctively and reached out with compassion and mercy. If you asked people why they responded as they did, few would refer to the Bible or to value systems or anything grander than it simply being the right thing to do. However, even without realising it, we were, in fact, rediscovering the living elements of our nation’s Judeo-Christian tradition and adapting them to our present reality. We rejected fatalistic approaches, and chose the way of unconditional love instead.

There’s a lot of debate going on in our nation about who we will be and what values we will hold. When we just talk about it though, we often fail to acknowledge the social ramifications of different values systems, for fear of offending those who hold them. Yet when we are faced with crisis, and must act quickly, our response speaks volumes about what we truly believe as a nation.

People often ask where God is in such a crisis. I’d suggest He is in the hands and hearts of those reaching out with love. That’s why it seems just the right thing to do.

Time to Listen

2006-02-09T21:54:00.000+10:00

This article was originally drafted in December, then redrafted and published in the Courier Mail on 9 February 2006.

The drug RU486 causes abortions. A Senate inquiry reviewing whether ministerial control over the importation of the drug should be removed will hand down its report today.

The Therapeutic Goods Administration would then determine the availability of the drug. The inquiry has received more than 4000 submissions opposing these changes.

Some lobbyists are saying this isn't about abortion – just drug regulation. Senator Lyn Allison, leader of the Democrats and co-sponsor of the Bill, says it is about a woman's choice – which infers that it is indeed about abortion.

Senator Stephen Fielding of Family First says it is a public policy decision and, as such, should stay in the hands of elected representatives, not unaccountable bureaucrats.

Obviously many questions are being raised, yet you can't escape the feeling that we are treating this issue too narrowly. It's time to recognise that abortion is an element of a much larger issue. Failure to do so excludes many who need to be a part of this discussion.

Where are all the other voices in the abortion debate?

Where are the voices of courageous doctors calling for good medical practice? The president of the Australian Medical Association, Dr Mukesh Haikerwal, recently angered many of the association's members by supporting the wider availability of RU486.

He called for people to "make their decision based on the real facts and what is important".

More than 200 doctors in the Medical Guild of St Luke think it's important that ethical criteria have some bearing on medical practice. Further, they believe that the Therapeutic Goods Administration's inability to take ethical criteria into consideration leaves it ill-equipped to assess drugs designed to take life.

These doctors convened a meeting on Sunday to consider resigning from the AMA in protest at its stance.

Where are the voices of the childless couples? I find it disconcerting that the only option our society is discussing – with regards to women with unwanted pregnancies – is abortion.

In a nation where countless childless couples ache to hold a baby in their arms, there are fewer than 80 Australian children available for adoption in a year. There are also more than 90,000 pregnancies ended each year.

Do we not find it a curious tragedy that in our nation women will weep with the grief of childlessness, while other women will grieve because they feel they have no choice but to abort? Why have we made it easier to end life rather than nurture life?

Imagine if our community considered adoption as an alternative that we would support, emotionally and economically? Imagine the dignity we would bestow upon women if we empowered them, in the midst of uncertainty, to be givers of life.

No one is denying that adoption can be emotionally difficult. However, once an unplanned pregnancy occurs, there are no detached, easy options. We are simply naive if we think that abortion has no psychological or emotional side effects.

In fact, where are the voices of post-abortive women who experience great grief and regret? Why are they not a part, and a vital part, of the policy decisions we make as a society?

After all, they can tell us, more than most, what the costs of these procedures really are.

They may be the voices who challenge us to come up with constructive solutions for women who face an uncertain future.

Where are the voices of courageous women who give birth, despite their child being diagnosed with chromosomal abnormalities such as Down syndrome? The immense pressure placed on women to abort children who are seen as "less than perfect" not only fails to affirm the value of those in our society living with such conditions but it also fails to give women true choice.

We should celebrate the courage of women who defy society's quest for perfection and choose to love extravagantly and unconditionally instead.

In all of this we would be wise to remember that abortion is big business, and that those who profit from it do so at the expense of women across our nation.

If the choice we are fighting for is between a medical and a surgical abortion, we have failed women.

That is not real choice.

We must make a place for the many voices that now are being silenced in this issue. At the very least, someone needs to speak for the women who are calling for a pro-woman approach in its fullest sense.

To be truly pro-woman, life-affirming choices should be as passionately and creatively supported as any other.

If we really care about the rights of women in our nation, let's listen carefully to all their voices – for in a multitude of counsellors, there is wisdom.

Community via your computer

2006-01-20T11:32:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 20 Jan 05

When I found out recently I had to get my wisdom teeth removed, I didn’t call my friends to commiserate. I blogged it.

When my friend graduated from uni and wanted to reflect on how he felt, he didn’t write a letter or even email us. He blogged it.

When the Courier Mail wanted to host a community discussion on gambling, they didn’t just run editorial after editorial about it. They blogged it – and invited us to join them.

For those of you who are reading this and scratching your head, let me explain. A blog is short for a Web Log, alternatively known as a Web-based journal or diary. It is essentially an on-line diary or journal.. The author of the blog makes ‘posts’ which are small articles published to their blog. It may be as simple as a record of someone’s day and thoughts. It may be as informative as in-depth technological discussions.

I spoke to a woman recently who joked that she finds out what her two out-of-home adult children are up to by reading their blogs each day. Personally, I keep up to date with what’s going on in the lives of my friends by a quick scan of their blogs every few days. There are blogs about the US President, blogs about swimming training and blogs about God. There seems no end to what we’ll find on a blog.

In fact, it also seems that there’s no end to blogs themselves. Recent estimates put their worldwide number at over 50 million, which means there are at least that many people using this relatively new technology to share experiences, thoughts, research and opinion with friends and colleagues. Who needs to talk anymore!

Some have suggested that this is the ‘beginning of the end’ of personal social contact, envisioning a cold future where we all retreat into our own world and eschew live social contact. It may be – but I doubt it. Let me explain.

One of my friends recently decided to abandon her blog, commenting in her last post that she could just tell her friends any news face to face. A flurry of cyber-response was generated, asking her to continue blogging. Friends from a distance appreciated the opportunity to get a window on her world, and those she saw regularly appreciated the way her blog complemented their personal contact with her.

Far from being the enemy of personal contact, blogs may well be a champion of community. Their astonishing take-up rate and readership could be a reflection of humanity’s intrinsic desire to connect with other people. It’s ironic that technology, which so many have seen as having a depersonalizing effect on society, is acting as a tool allowing us to connect with each other.

We are made for community, and while it can be harder to find now than it was a generation ago, it is still just as important.

Busier lives, fuller diaries and larger commute times means that modern Australians may not necessarily stumble across community in their neighbourhood anymore. Few of us expect to, if truth be told. We have started to wake up to the idea that we need to be intentional and seek out meaningful relationships. The community we choose to live in often exists as a relational network rather than a geographical location.

When we find that sense of community then, it’s little surprise that we’re keen to use technology to complement that. If you’ve put in a long day at work, you can’t really call all your friends late at night to catch up. You can however, check in with ‘those who blog’ and even leave comments they can read the next day.

None of us expect social technology like blogs to replace catching up over coffee. But social technology can make the ‘face to face’ times more meaningful, allowing us to pick up where the blog news left off, rather than starting at the very beginning.

Self-disclosure is a foundational part of building relationships, and blogging allows us to do this with relative ease and convenience. This complements the deep desire we have to relate to others, to be accepted, and to build relationships. As long as people are willing to know and be known, community will continue.

So why not get out into the big wide world of blogging, even just once? You never know who you’ll bump into!

The voices we don't hear

2006-01-20T11:30:00.000+10:00

Unpublished

Listening to the claims and counter-claims over whether the RU-486 is safe and should be more widely available, I have many questions. My biggest question is about what we aren’t hearing. Where are all the other voices in the abortion debate?

We are used to two voices - ‘pro-choice’ and ‘pro-life’. In both camps we find the compassionate and the zealot. There are those who trade insults and those who argue with reason and logic. We argue as if this matter is solely about abortion. In reality though, abortion is simply an element of a much larger issue. By failing to recognise that, we have excluded many voices that need to be a part of this discussion.

Where, for instance, are the voices of the childless couples? I find it disconcerting that the only option our society is discussing - with regards to women with unwanted pregnancies - is abortion. In a nation where countless childless couples ache to hold a baby in their arms, there are less than 80 Australian children available for adoption in a year. There are also over 90,000 pregnancies ended each year.

Do we not find it a curious tragedy that in our nation women will weep with the grief of childlessness, whilst other women will grieve because they feel they have no choice but to abort? Why have we made it easier to end life rather than nurture life?

Adoption is now almost considered the unmentionable. A friend of mine who has been adopted however, expresses nothing but gratitude for both their biological mother who gave them life, and also for their adopted parents who have nurtured them.

Imagine if our community considered adoption as an alternative that we would support, both emotionally and economically? Imagine the dignity we would bestow upon women if we empowered them, in the midst of uncertainty, to be givers of life and joy to those couples whose are unable to conceive.

No-one is pretending, of course, that adoption doesn't carry an emotional burden. However, once an unplanned pregnancy occurs, there are no detached, easy options. We are simply naive if we think that abortion has no psychological or emotional side-effects.

In fact, where are the voices of post-abortive women who experience great grief and regret? Why are they not a part, and a vital part, of the policy decisions we make as a society? After all, they can tell us, more than most, what the costs of these procedures really are. They may be the voices who challenge us to come up with constructive solutions for women who face an uncertain future. I find it hard to believe that the most ‘compassionate’ option we can provide is to suggest women end their pregnancy.

Where are the voices of courageous women who give birth despite their child being diagnosed with chromosomal abnormalities such as Downs Syndrome? The immense pressure placed on women to abort children who are seen as ‘less than perfect’ not only fails to affirm the value of those in our society living with such conditions, but it also fails to give women true choice. We should celebrate the courage of women who defy society’s quest for perfection and choose to love extravagantly and unconditionally instead.

In all of this we would be wise to remember that abortion is big business, and that those who profit from it do so at the expense of women across our nation.

We must make a place for the many voices that are currently being silenced in this issue. At the very least, someone needs to speak for the women who are calling for a pro-woman approach in its fullest sense. To be truly pro-woman, life-affirming choices should be as passionately and creatively supported as any other.

If we really care about the rights of women in our nation, let’s listen carefully to all their voices - for in a multitude of counsellors, there is wisdom.

Most heartfelt gift gives peace a chance

2006-01-20T11:29:00.000+10:00

Published in Courier Mail 24 Dec 05

`GLORY to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, goodwill toward men.'' That's what the angels sang that first Christmas night. Peace on Earth? I doubt it!

In California, two men came to blows after exchanging Christmas gifts. So offended by what the other gave, they each hit the other over the head with a flower pot and ended up in hospital.

Family doesn't fare much better at Christmas either. One young woman was charged with fire-bombing her mother-in-law's house, and subsequently burning it to the ground. Apparently she didn't like her gift either. That promised peace seems a little elusive these days.

In the whirl of events that constitute a modern Christmas, we fill our lives with all the seasonal trimmings, and empty our bank account. The goodwill we sing about in carols evaporates when we venture near a shopping centre car park. (And if you do happen to spy some goodwill in the distance, someone will get to it before you.)

Why does the traditional season of harmony sometimes leave us stressed, unhappy and frustrated?

For those among us who've had a less than joyous year, Christmas can often magnify our unhappiness. Bereavement, difficult situations and unfulfilled expectations all weigh heavily upon us as we reflect upon the year that was.

It may just be that we've had another ordinary year, in a string of ordinary years, and we long to live with some excitement and passion. It may be that we have experienced a loss which is felt all the more keenly at this time of year. Those who cannot share this season with someone they celebrated alongside last year will bear a special grief.

In the same way that you never feel lonelier than when surrounded by a crowd, you never feel more miserable than when peace and joy are foisted upon you externally.

The angelic chorus of that first Christmas night -- ``Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, goodwill toward men'' -- can sometimes feel like a taunt rather than a promise.

The human heart can quickly pick up when things aren't right. Just as children know when mummy and daddy aren't happy, we seem to have an innate sense of how things are meant to be and whether our experience rings true.

And let's be honest, we know that things aren't meant to be the way they are.

Relationships are not meant to be fractured. Sickness shouldn't take someone so young. Food shouldn't be so hard to put on the table.

That's why escapist substances such as alcohol or drugs are so popular. That's why people often indulge in foolish or unsafe behaviour -- whether that's telling your boss what you really think of them, or drinking and driving, or having an affair.

When the heart is not at peace, your world is not at peace.

Someone once said, ``Christmas began in the heart of God. It is only complete when it reaches the heart of man.'' Christmas is a Christian celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Christians believe that this baby grew to be a saviour who can still bring peace to the heart of men, women and children everywhere.

Whatever your religious persuasion though, the idea of peace is irresistible, and the slight suspicion that this could be what we are missing resonates within us.

Christmas will always be with us. The retail sector will make sure of that. The decorations are lovely, the carols are beautiful, exchanging gifts is a wonderful tradition and a Christmas feast is a welcome part of the day.

The essence of Christmas though is peace -- peace with one another and peace within.
Some time this Christmas season then, why not put away the wrapping paper, hide away the ``to do'' list and take a moment to listen to your heart? For if Christmas doesn't reside in your heart, then all the trimmings of the season won't make it so.

Being offended a matter of choice

2006-01-20T11:27:00.000+10:00

Published in Courier Mail 16 Dec 05

SO, you're offended. Join the club. It seems just about everyone is these days.

The most recent is the situation reported this week where the principal of Yeppoon State School wrote a letter of apology to a family. They had complained about her use of the word Christmas in the end-of-year school newsletter. The family said they did not celebrate Christmas so they cried discrimination. In the letter of apology, the principal stated that ``on reflection, I should have referred to the holiday season rather than the Christmas season''.

On reflection? Why would a principal feel that she had to apologise for calling something exactly what it is?

Perhaps because one of the worst things you can apparently now do in Western society is offend someone.

Causing offence is the new unforgivable sin. Western nations, in embracing relativism, have struggled with how to balance conflicting world views. In what is proving a flawed approach, we have usually chosen to simply remove that which may upset another person.

This approach comes into particular focus during the Christmas season, when the now predictable uproar occurs over nativity scenes and even Christmas itself. Granted, the political correctness police seem to often operate by double standards. After all, we don't hear anyone complaining when the Brisbane City Council helps promote Buddha's birthday at South Bank every year, yet the celebration of the birth of Christ is somehow seen as greatly more offensive.

So, in the interests of all of us getting along, I would like to put forward a proposition. I'd like to suggest we choose to no longer get offended.

Offence is a funny thing (no pun intended). It is entirely subjective, and we can decide whether we continue to subscribe to it or not. Feeling insulted is not an inevitable response to disagreement or even to being hurt. Offence is never forced upon us -- it is something we decide to carry.

Ultimately, we choose whether or not to take offence or to overlook it. However, this isn't the concept we ascribe to in civic life. By inextricably linking the notion of disagreement with insult, we have failed to teach our young people that it is possible to disagree with someone without being personally hurt.

The ability to have a difference of opinion, yet still retain a graciousness and generosity of spirit, is the hallmark of maturity.

Shahed Amanullah wrote in alt.muslim -- a discussion and news website for the Muslim community -- that ``being offended all the time gets tiring, and it isn't an example of people who are confident in the strength of their faith and community''.

The ability to resist offence has wide-ranging implications, for our families and for our society. Instead, much of our social commentary has schooled our society to assert their mythological right not to be offended and demand the elimination of what they don't like.

This idea that much of mainstream Australia's traditions and values must be silenced because they may offend someone else is abhorrent. It's abhorrent not because of the danger this is to free speech but because of what it infers about our capacity as human beings.

It infers that we are merely slaves to our emotions, and that we lack the volitional ability to make choices about how we respond. Victor Frankl, a survivor of Auschwitz, wrote in Man's Search for Meaning: ``Everything can be taken from a man but . . . the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances . . .''

It is wrong to take from us the opportunity to overlook offence, for it's in choosing a good attitude in the midst of adversity that we grow and mature as individuals.

Each of us must choose for ourselves how we respond to possible offence. We can choose to get upset and throw a tantrum, or we can take a deep breath, extend forgiveness and acknowledge the freedom of others to express something we disagree with.

Of course, this doesn't negate your corresponding freedom to debate opposing ideas, and vigorously contend for your views. This is, after all, a healthy sign of a free and democratic society.

So in this Christmas season, let's reflect upon the opportunities we have every day to be upset by others. And then let's start a revolution -- and choose not to get offended.

Values system historically at heart of union movement

2006-01-20T11:26:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 10 November 2005

In the midst of the raging debate about the industrial relations legislation, finally something has given us some light relief.

I have watched with great interest, and more than a little amusement, the response to comments made by the head of the new Fair Pay Commission, Professor Ian Harper. Many of them are, (unwittingly I suspect), laced with a refreshing irony. With so much of the IR debate a little ``same old, same old'' it's been a nice change.

In the past week, Harper has been open about the fact he has a personal Christian faith, and has commented that it will guide his decisions. That has been enough to set off the nervous whispers about religion in the corridors of power and the accusations that the Prime Minister is being influenced by fundamentalism.

The responses by the secretary of the Australian Workers Union Queensland, Bill Ludwig, have been interesting. Ludwig attacked Harper's comments, declaring them as an extraordinary development in 120 years of industrial relations.

That's an interesting perspective. Men of Harper's persuasion founded the trade union movement precisely because they were guided by their personal Christian faith. It was the Church that initially acted to end the unfair exploitation of workers. Therefore, all Harper's comments have really done is return us to the roots of unionism. There doesn't seem anything extraordinary about that.

Ludwig also expressed that Harper should ``take into account the view of different gods worshipped in different sections of the community''. Is Ludwig proposing that Harper should, for example, include multiple spousal benefits for those faiths that allow polygamy?

Or perhaps he is suggesting we take into account a Hindu world view and implement a caste system into the new industrial relations salary structure? I can imagine spirited discussions about what professions would be relegated as ``Untouchables''. (Personally, I have my money on bank managers or real estate agents.)

What I do find particularly puzzling is the notion that Ludwig seems to be advancing, which is that it's unacceptable for your value system to influence your working life. Let's examine that a little more, shall we?

Within the course of a working day, each of us has to make many decisions. While some decisions are straightforward and organisationally defined, many of these decisions have an element of ethical ambiguity. The decision you make, and the reason you make it, reflects none other than your value system, which comes from your world view.

We neither work in a moral vacuum nor make decisions in one. The idea that we do is illogical.
Carly Fiorina, who was the chairwoman and CEO of Hewlett Packard, said in an interview: ``I think leadership takes what I call a strong internal compass. And I use the term compass because what does a compass do? When the winds are howling, and the storms are raging, and the sky is cloudy so you have nothing to navigate by, a compass tells you where true north is. And I think when a person is in a difficult situation, a lonely situation, you have to rely on that compass.''

Every one of us has an internal compass. It is the world view through which we understand and make sense of concepts such as right and wrong, the dignity of humanity, justice and accountability.

While we live in an egalitarian, secular society, we are free to live out our value system if it isn't inconsistent with society's laws. For many people, like Harper, that world view is a Christian one.

In a society that prides itself on its tolerance, it seems curious that this would be disparaged.
In fact, the Judeo-Christian world view contains such foundational and positive core values as protection for the poor, justice, equality and inherent human worth. These values have built a strong Australia, and are at the heart of the union movement.

I suspect that Ludwig's assertion, that we must leave our value system at home, doesn't reflect wider community principles. If it does, it's this line of thought, rather than Harper's comments, that suddenly ushers in a whole new age in industrial relations.

After all, this would mean having to sacrifice the great Australian right to complain when our Mars bar ``disappears'' from the staff fridge -- and that's a right none of us wants to lose.

Suicide and rights talk at cross purposes

2006-01-20T11:24:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 9 September 2005

Have you ever been at the dinner table when there have been various conversations going on around you? People talking over the top of one another, or around one another, as they continue a conversation with someone several seats away.

It can get quite clamorous and more than a little confusing, as snatches of different conversations get overheard, and people end up talking at cross-purposes.

There are two conversations occurring within society at the moment, and it may do us well to pause and compare notes before we continue.

The first conversation has been given impetus by former New South Wales Liberal leader John Brogden's recent suicide attempt. We labelled this a tragedy. Fresh attention has been given to the devastating statistics of suicide in this country and we share a sense of mourning for the victims, and their friends and family who are left to carry the burden of grief.

The second conversation is spurred by what is somewhat deceptively called the ``Right to Die'' movement. This conversation is galvanised by high-profile cases such as Nancy Crick, Terri Schiavo and Maria Korp. Phrases such as ``quality of life'', ``mercy killing'' and ``death with dignity'' are a significant part of the accompanying vocabulary for the euthanasia movement.

We find then that we are faced with an interesting clash of conversations.

On one hand we are allocating large amounts of resources to suicide prevention, for good reason.
Since 1990, Australian men have been more likely to die by suicide than a motor vehicle accident. For men aged 15-19, suicide is the leading cause of death in Australia. The desire to decrease suicide indicates that we believe life is worth living, that hope can prevail and that the taking of a life in despair is a tragedy.

On the other hand, we are witnessing impassioned debate by advocates of euthanasia who maintain that people should be able to choose when they end their life. Underlying this conversation is the viewpoint that life is only worth living if in good physical or mental shape, that there is no hope, and that the taking of a life is noble.

Euthanasia is not just for terminally ill people. The philosophical and practical extension of the ideological underpinning of euthanasia sees application for those with physical disabilities or other forms of suffering, such as mental illness. This is demonstrated in Holland, where an otherwise physically healthy woman in her early 50s was euthanised. Her illness? Depression.

Pro-euthanasia societies often speak of euthanasia as a choice. However, as with suicide, we see that the decision to end your life is rarely made apart from factors that place immense pressure on the individual.

An unspoken, yet powerful, influence in decisions regarding euthanasia is fear. Whether it is fear of pain, fear of losing physical or mental control, or fear of being a ``burden'' to family, this fear is powerfully persuasive.

Ending your life is a decision that never had to be made by those who are free from encumbrances. The decision to kill yourself is only ever made by those who are vulnerable -- physically, mentally or emotionally.

This psychological climate is eerily similar to the one that affects those who are suicidal. Author Edwin Schniedman, who has studied suicide for nearly 50 years, says: ``Nearing the end of my career in suicidology, I think I can now say what has been on my mind in as few as five words: Suicide is caused by ``psychache'' -- the pain of excessively felt shame, or guilt, or humiliation, or loneliness, or fear, or angst, or dread of growing old, or of dying badly, or whatever.''

How can we then say that euthanasia is in essence any different from suicide? Why then do we consider one is beneficial and one is a tragedy?

What then are we to do with the two conversations that society is having? While euthanasia activists maintain they have benevolent motivations, and may do so, we cannot escape from the fact that, all euphemisms aside, they are advocating suicide.

Let's be honest with ourselves about the nature of this conversation, and stop reframing concepts of suicide into concepts of mercy and dignity.

Only then will we be able to act comprehensively to protect all those who are vulnerable to the pressure to kill themselves.

Live joyously and be happy to be well

2006-01-20T11:22:00.001+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail on 2 July 2005

Another article about the crisis plaguing Queensland Health; another headline, and another shocking story.

We are dissecting this issue in lounge rooms and offices around the state, for good reason. Hidden behind the big news, however, is something else we would do well to consider. It is not headline material and it doesn't have the same shock factor as so many of the disturbing revelations we have been hearing. However, for the general public it is as real an issue as the seemingly stricken heath bureaucracy.

As we hear the terrible situations our fellow citizens have endured, we should experience great compassion for them. What we also should do is pause to take stock of our own situation. If we, and our loved ones, are well, we should consider this a timely reminder of blessing and resolve not to take it for granted, living instead with thankfulness in our hearts each and every day.

My own recent, and continuing experience with our health system has reminded me of this.
While the medical staff have been highly professional and personable (though obviously understaffed), even the best care cannot alleviate the trauma associated with long hospital admissions and the associated separation from family and friends.

And the unfortunate truth seems to be that we rarely appreciate what we have until it is taken away from us.

All of us have regrets in life, of varying types. According to author Will Henry, ``Fools live to regret their words, wise men to regret their silence".

At times of death many people carry regrets to their grave. Sadly though, the greatest regrets can be held by the living -- and often for the words left unsaid.

Regret can be a slow and silent killer, for it saps the joy out of each moment and renders those still living almost lifeless.

For those of us without a personal investment in the health inquiry, we would do well to allow it to act as a catalyst to make each moment count. Much of the irritation we allow into our lives is of a relatively trivial nature.

The disagreements over household work or finances do have their place in the scheme of things, however, they often assume a place much higher than they are truly worthy of. The emotional and mental energy they consume often leaves us wanting when it comes to using our energies to build the parts of our life which are of value.

We often wait until a time of crisis to reflect upon the value of good health -- whether it be ours or our loved ones -- and then act accordingly. While we may wonder at our capacity to replace routine with awe, can you imagine the difference in homes and communities if we did?

There would be fewer harsh words spoken, and apologies would quickly follow if they occurred. There would be more time spent building relationships than bank balances and we would be more likely to create memories rather than a fuss.

What can the every day Queenslander learn from the current health inquiry? Perhaps firstly to be thankful for the great care that so many health professionals provide -- and to verbalise that thanks when the opportunity presents itself.

Second, and perhaps more significantly, embrace every moment you have and share it with those you love. For life is uncertain, whereever you are, and the possibility each day holds should never be taken for granted. Failing to do this is another type of tragedy all together.

Force is with search for father

2006-01-20T11:22:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 27 May 05

IT'S midnight and I'm surrounded by strange looking creatures. Fortunately it's nothing sinister -- I was at the midnight screening of Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.

I was there by choice, having been a big Stars Wars fan from childhood. However, even I was surprised at the level of devotion that these movies have inspired, and I wondered why.

For a work of science fiction, these movies are also deeply human. One of the things that resonates with us is the cosmic battle between good and evil.

In Star Wars we see a reflection of our own ethical or moral dilemmas, illuminated on the big screen. We see, in the story of Anakin, how this struggle influences a person's choices and subsequent behaviour.

Another profound and emotionally charged factor in the movie's appeal is the feeling of fatherlessness we are confronted with. In both Anakin and Luke, we see fatherless young men. Fatherlessness has been labelled the ``most harmful demographic trend of this generation" -- making it easy to see why many people identify so powerfully with this story.

For those who have been abandoned by their fathers -- physically or emotionally -- they well understand the feeling of loss. The characters may be figments of someone's imagination -- the emotions they convey are not. Over the past few decades, fathers often have been seen as an unnecessary part of a child's upbringing.

THE children of our ``liberated'' society were left alone to deal with the fall-out of this philosophical shift. Unfortunately, it wasn't until later that we discovered there were many consequences and that they had widespread ramifications.

As sociologists began to rethink their theories, they began to recognise a father hunger in many people. However, it seems academic discovery was pre-empted by a young filmmaker who had already identified that feeling of loss, and vividly communicated it.

It's little wonder, then, that the collective imagination of a generation was captivated by the ultimate reconciliation, albeit a brief one, between father and son in Episode Six.

It was not quite a fairytale ending but it was an ending. There was closure in the relationship between a child and his father, and that had eluded many in our society. To see father and son united, even for a small moment, provided a satisfaction that couldn't be easily put into words.

To understand its attraction, one must realise that Star Wars is an epic that has spanned a generation. Although it's a great story, it's more than pure fantasy. Its enduring themes, that express the human experience, lift it above a work of science fiction into the realm of cultural narrative.

While Star Wars may have been set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, we see ourselves reflected in it today -- and there is nothing more irresistible than the telling of our own story.

Death of Values

2006-01-20T11:21:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 29 Mar 05

SOMETHING is very wrong with our culture. The tragic story of Terri Schiavo is a case in point. It is a compelling chronicle of the fight between her husband, who is trying to kill her, and her parents, who are trying to keep her alive.

At the age of 27, Schiavo suffered a heart attack that left her with brain damage. She's not on a ventilator as she can breathe by herself. She is not brain-dead. She is capable of interaction, although to what level remains a hotly debated topic between her husband and her parents. As her husband has denied her rehabilitation for the past 10 years, we will never know what she may have attained.

What Schiavo cannot do is feed herself. Food and water provided by a feeding tube, connected at meal times, is vital to her continued survival. Her husband's campaign to have the feeding tube removed, so that she starves to death, has been successful and she has now been more than a week without food or water.

Schiavo's husband has a new partner and has started a new family. However, Schiavo cannot divorce him without his permission, as he is her legal guardian. He also controls the malpractice settlement she was awarded for her medical care, which was more than $US1 million, and he will inherit whatever remains when she dies. Conflict of interest perhaps?

This situation has garnered attention everywhere from the American Congress, to the Vatican, and is being discussed in lounge rooms and Internet chat rooms internationally. How did we reach a point in our civilised Western world where we are debating whether a husband can kill his wife? More importantly, how do we as a society decide who lives and who dies?

We have re-orientated the axis on which that question pivots, and so find ourselves in our current moral quagmire. Within Judeo-Christian cultures, murder has always been considered wrong. We have considered life a gift from God the Creator hence it also was regarded as His alone to take. Civil governments were charged with keeping order and passed laws which made the taking of a human life a criminal act. It was an absolute we all agreed on -- the rules of play, if you like.

However, as we have drifted from the notion of our responsibility before God, and embraced moral relativism, we have set ourselves up as the final arbiters of life -- and of death.

This change of perspective has profound results. We see this in the abortion rate in our nation. We see this in first the adult euthanasia movement, and now the infant euthanasia movement; witness Dutch doctors currently advocating the killing of terminally ill infants. Australia's own Dr Peter Singer supports parents being able to kill their disabled babies.

Taking a few steps back to peruse the broad picture, we are faced with a frightening prospect -- our social ethic no longer considers human life as having intrinsic value.
Medical advances have made the end-of-life issue complex, to be sure. At what point does pain relief become the agent that kills? At what point can the ventilator be turned off and allow the person who is brain dead to die completely?

These are intricate issues. They must be thoroughly discussed, and support given to anguished relatives. However, these are not, in fact, the issues that are at stake in the Schiavo case.

WHAT is at stake is how our society views those who have physical and mental incapacities -- and whether we protect their right to live. All Schiavo needs to survive is food and water -- something each of us need.

While we would be arrested for starving a dog to death, it seems to be OK to do this to a disabled person, even though the only person who speaks for her has questionable motives, to say the least.

If your right merely to live needs to be justified, rather than defended, as the Schiavo case highlights, we should all be concerned. Is the measure of our life's value related to our independence, or ability to contribute to society? Who decides?

Most of us would agree that the intervention into the Schiavo case of the courts and legislature shouldn't have to happen. However, in a culture that has come adrift, this will not be the last such case.

Like it or not, until we re-anchor our culture to something solid, our elected representatives will be forced to intervene to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

Sadly for Schiavo, it appears this time they -- or we -- have failed her.

What the devil will they teach next ?

2006-01-20T11:20:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 23 Mar 05

C.S. LEWIS once famously asserted that ``Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.'' As the Queensland Government is currently undertaking a review of the Education (General Provisions) Act 1989, including a review of religious education in schools, we would do well to consider what type of education they are looking to fashion for our children.

The Peter Beattie Government has proposed that religious education be widened to include spiritual and philosophical programs, rather than just religious instruction. They suggest that this means state schools will reflect the ``true make-up and nature of our diverse communities''.

Just why they are suggesting this and what extra philosophies our children are to be exposed to remains characteristically unclear.

A glance across the spiritual environment of our nation shows that while Australians may not be the most church-going group of people, we do have a God-consciousness.
Research indicates that between 74 per cent and 85 per cent of Australians believe in God. Furthermore, about 20 per cent of Australians attend church monthly and 33 per cent pray or meditate weekly.

We may all argue about what we think God is like, but the overwhelming majority of us believe that He exists.

The pluralistic approach of the existing religious education guidelines acknowledges this, and is consistent with our social framework. Many different religions are represented and unless you request exemption, your child is a part of the class.
The proposed guidelines would mean that much more than established religions could be served up to young and impressionable minds. There is no method of deciding which philosophies and what content are suitable to include.

Discussing the guidelines, the Faith Education and Formation group from the Catholic Diocese of Rockhampton says: ``There is no criterion in this list that judges the content of the program offered. Malevolent belief systems are not precluded. Humanism might be just one of a list that could include groups representing philosophies such as communism, fascism, Satanism, nihilism, existentialism etc.''

IF THIS seems a bit far-fetched, and you don't imagine the Communist Party of Australia ever being given classroom time, consider the recent official recognition of a Satanist in Britain's Royal Navy. Unthinkable just a few years ago, Chris Cranmer, 24, can now perform satanic rituals on board his ship and have a satanic chaplain. Sometimes it is a short leap from far-fetched to commonplace.

The Queensland Humanist Society also would have class time to teach their philosophy. They believe that children should be free of religious or political indoctrination from their parents. While they promote indoctrination as something sinister, it simply means, ``to instruct in a body of doctrine or principles''. Should our state schools really be giving classroom time to a philosophy that undermines the rights and responsibility of parents to instruct their children?

Our modern education system is largely afflicted by moral ambiguity and is often disproportionately influenced by a small cultural enclave that refuses us the right to discriminate -- even to discriminate good from bad. G. M. Trevelyan, in the book English Social History, recognised this when he said ``education . . . has produced a vast population able to read, but unable to distinguish what is worth reading''.

While the Queensland Government has given the impression in recent times that it is not too concerned with what the public thinks, we must still take this opportunity to determine what our state schools will look like in the future. Parents have the right to hold elected representatives accountable for how their children are educated.

Now is the time to distinguish what is worth teaching to our children, and what is not, or we will continue to see our state schools slide into uncertainty. If that happens, the current exodus of students and teachers from the state system may prove too difficult to arrest.

Redemption a modern morality mystery

2006-01-20T11:18:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 5 Feb 05

I DO NOT know Dennis Ferguson and I find his crimes abhorrent. However, as I watch the events that have unfolded in the past week, I am struck by an uneasy thought.

Quite simply, as a society we have nothing to offer the Dennis Ferguson's of this world.

We have found him guilty of crimes, sentenced him to a jail term, which he served, and then released him into a society that is determined to run him out of every place he moves into.

The whole sorry situation and the ensuing discussion, is raising more and more questions, with fewer and fewer answers being proffered.

What do we expect of our justice system? What do we expect of those who have offended against society?

Do we ever allow them to re-join society? And if so, how do we assist that process?

Society has the right to mete out punishment to citizens who commit a crime. When that punishment is finished, society then has the responsibility to offer them the chance to rejoin society as law-abiding citizens. But it's not that easy, is it?

In this case, for instance, there is the completely understandable fear of having someone who has been convicted of pedophilia moving into your neighbourhood. What parent wouldn't be concerned? And rightly so. The first instinct of a parent should be to protect their child.

The sad fact remains that there will always be those in our society who would try to harm our children. When we don't know who they are, it is difficult to protect our family. Forewarned, however, is forearmed.

The very fact that society knows of Ferguson's past means we are provided with a greater protection from him than from others, whom we are unaware of, who may be similarly tempted.

Furthermore, we have the dilemma at the inadequacy of society's punishment. This is well expressed by Jerry Brown, Mayor of Oakland, California, when he said: ``Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?''

Quite simply, we don't know what to do with offenders and we don't seem to know what to do for them.

We pride ourselves on our moral progressivism. However, we are becoming less equipped to deal with situations that we still find morally repugnant.

By re-defining sexual behaviour as innate, rather than chosen, we have condemned ourselves to a powerlessness that we never anticipated.

An English editor, Cyril Connolly, said: ``Those of us who were brought up as Christians and have lost our faith have retained the sense of sin without the saving belief in redemption. ``This poisons our thought and so paralyses us in action.''

Herein lies a clue to what has happened collectively to our society.

Once founded on Christian values of individual responsibility for our actions, and the desire for righteousness, society has now discarded such ``antiquated'' notions in favour of moral relativism, particularly with regards to sexual behaviour.

We're quite happy for people to express themselves however they want, even defending their right to do so by arguing that it's ``just the way they are''. That is, until someone crosses the line and engages in behaviour we all still find morally unacceptable -- and punishable by law.

HOWEVER, once these perpetrators have served their time, we have a problem.
Because we have championed inherent behaviour, we cannot even begin to contemplate helping the offender's transition back into society.

Such a transition requires that we help someone not only recognise why his or her behaviour is wrong, but that we also empower them to change.

How are we to do that if we think it's impossible for a person to change? Failure to address these issues means that we have condemned them to more than a jail sentence. We have condemned not only them, but also their victim, and our society, to a future trapped by the past.

Perhaps the debate we're having about what to do with Ferguson is not the only debate we need to engage in. Perhaps we also should be discussing how to discover what it is that changes the human heart, for only then will we really start to unravel such a complex issue.

In spite of theft, Jesus is still here

2006-01-20T11:17:00.000+10:00

Published in the Courier Mail 3 Dec 04

IN A RATHER ironic move, someone stole the baby Jesus from a nativity scene in a shopping centre recently. Just what you want if you're a thief -- a visual reminder of God.

Thankfully, the nativity scene has been restored (and is now safely enclosed in glass). However, it seems some are still intent on removing Jesus from public life.

Some government departments are sending out greeting cards for ``holiday greetings'' or ``summer greetings'' rather than Christmas greetings. Preschools are being warned to avoid any carols that mention Jesus. Just last week, a chicken franchise in Sydney chastised one of its shops for displaying a nativity scene. They were instructed to remove it for fear of offending non-Christians.

Therein lies the dilemma. How does one celebrate Christmas in a pluralistic society?
For many Aussies, Christmas is more about food and family than having a spiritual experience.

However, few of us question whether there is a place for Christmas in Australia in 2004.

We have a dilemma indeed. We pride ourselves on our tolerance for all cultures and faiths yet we don't want to lose our national identity in the rush to accommodate varying viewpoints.

So where to from here?

If the politically correct police are right, and large numbers of people are offended by the display of the nativity scene, have they thought through the logical ramifications of this? To be consistent, they should also be offended by any reference to the year AD2004. AD stands for Anno Domini -- in the year of our Lord. I'm guessing lots of people use that calendar system who do not consider Jesus Christ to be their Lord. Yet AD2004 it remains. Why? Because it is a part of who we are.

Our nation was founded on Christian principles, including our principle of time and history. Our very calendar is dated according to how long it has been since Jesus was born on Earth.

Which brings me back to Christmas. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Being offended by that does not change the truth of it.

WE CAN try to pretend that Christmas doesn't exist, or is entirely secular, but that would only be an exercise in self-deception rather than social progression.

Does this mean that celebrating Christmas makes you a Christian? No. Does it mean the state will start to force everyone to go to church if they hang up holly? No. What it does mean is that we respect the right for our nation's founding traditions and principles to continue.

Christmas, or ``Christ's mass'' is about Jesus. What we do with the time off from work that this religious holiday affords us is completely up to us. But what is not up to us is to rewrite history. This celebration, even if the experts cannot agree on an exact date, is to commemorate what arguably may be one of the most significant events that has ever occurred.

In a country founded on Christian principles, where a large majority of us give social, if not individual, affirmation to the Christian faith, we should not be afraid to celebrate Christmas or, at the very least, to acknowledge it.

Those who don't want to celebrate Christmas don't have to. They don't have to buy presents; they don't have to decorate their houses and they can even go to work on December 25 if they wish.

Christmas will still exist though, and so should the right to acknowledge it publicly in Australia. After all, it really is ``the most wonderful time of the year''.