Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places,

Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.

Australia, after eighteen years . . .

Jenny and I have been in Australia for more than a week now, arriving without incident or delay after a 25-hour trip, from take-off in Albuquerque to touch-down in Melbourne.

In some ways it is the same Australia we last saw eighteen years ago.  It is a beautiful wide-open country, roughly the same size as the United States with only 28 million people. Old friends look remarkably the way we remember them and we have picked up where we left off without missing a heartbeat with stories and laughter easily bridging the years.  Oh, how good it feels to be back.

Yet, as one might expect, it is not the same Australia. Thankfully, the all-white policy that was officially changed fifty years ago has led to a more diverse population, but it seems to have extended mostly to Asian countries.  A few friends lamented that Australia still remains a racist country which surprised and saddened me.  I was hoping I could look at Australia as an example for the rest of the world, or at least for the United States, as we struggle with our own racism.

The day after we arrived a horrendous knife attack killed six people in an upscale shopping mall in Sydney.  A few days later a Christian bishop was injured in a knife attack during worship. Legislation is being talked about to curb nice violence.  Australia was successful in ridding the country of guns after a horrendous shooting in 1996.  Where there’s a will good things can happen.  It would do us well to take notice of how other countries solve issues.  In the meantime, a few friends confided that they are too scared to visit America.

Others tell us they are waiting to see the results of our elections before they come for a visit.  They know as much about what is going on with our politics as we do, it seems, and many a conversation has led to questions about our political turmoil.  It is affecting the world.

Last night we had dinner with a physician who works for Doctors Without Borders and her husband, a dear friend who works for the International Red Cross.  Both have served in places like Gaza and Afghanistan and the insights they have on the role of the United States are chilling.  We shake our head.

Last Sunday we attended Jenny’s old church and the service was entirely lay-run as the congregation is beginning to look for a new minister.  There was one child who was playing with toys in the rear of the sanctuary and on one occasion wandered up to the front only to be gently snatched away by his mom. Before the pandemic, and in the years when Jenny lived here, children were everywhere and a very important part of worship.  The absence of children and youth is not only an American issue.  Oh, and there was no worship bulletin.

It is the same Australia and yet it isn’t. There are more cars than we remember, more traffic everywhere.  Many houses have given way to apartment buildings.  Graffiti is prevalent and I wonder the meaning of all the squiggles. At the same time there are beautiful exotic birds flying overhead and sitting in trees sharing their songs and cackles, perhaps like the graffiti trying to tell us something important that we may one day understand.  Kangaroos, as prevalent as deer, sit in distant fields in the countryside watching us as we watch them.

After all these years we have been welcomed back.

Grace and peace,

Harry