Sunday, June 28, 2026

Where is God in difficult times?

There is a particularly poignant scene in Les Miserables. The poor and oppressed people have risen up in revolution hoping for a better life, but the revolution has failed.
Good men and women have fallen, and the level of suffering has increased and now Marius Pontmercy sits in the broken cafe knowing he's the only one to survive, his friends have died, other than Jean Valjean, and he now regrets and reminisces the loss of his friends:

Oh, my friends, my friends, forgive me.
That I live and you are gone.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.”

 

One of the realities of human life is that tragic things and suffering happen in our world, and not just to bad people who we might think deserve a good wake-up call. Look at the pained faces of those sitting in the ruins of a bombed out city or in a squalid refugee camp. 

One of the great questions in life is this: "Why is there suffering?" -- Where is God in a war? Or in an earthquake Or in a crime of terror? Or a sombre medical diagnosis?

How do you respond to that?
How do we help our kids understand why the suffering doesn’t just go away when they say their prayers?
What do you believe your faith has to say that is helpful or unique at a time like this?

Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, author of the provocative book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, tells how one day he received a phone call informing him that a five-year-old boy in the neighbourhood had run out into the street after a ball, had been hit by a car, and died. He did not know the boy; the family was not a part of his synagogue. Nonetheless he went to the service. 

In the eulogy, the family's minister said, “This is not a time for sadness or tears. This is a time for rejoicing, because Jack has been taken out of this world of sin and pain .... He is in a happier land now where there is no pain and no grief, let us thank God for that.” 

Rabbi Kushner said that he felt so so bad for Jack's parents and family!
 Not only had they lost a child without warning, they were being told by a representative of their religion that they should rejoice. Of course they did not feel like rejoicing. They felt hurt; they felt angry; they felt that God had been totally unfair to them; they felt, not for any valid reason, guilty even. Their minister assumed God to be the direct and simple cause of this tragedy, and that therefore a simple solution would suffice.


Monday, June 08, 2026

Boutros Winter 2026 Update

Greetings friends,We’ve attached a short news-letter to give you bit of an update  about what’s happening for us and at haven. Click HERE

We’re into the middle of the year, with the shortest day of the year coming up soon (21 June)!

Winter is a season of discontinuity. The growth, warmth and light of summer are gone, he days are short, often damp, and there’s less light. Spring is still a-ways off. It’s a ‘liminal’ time!

Our modern world can feel like permanent liminality! Everything we thought was nailed down keeps changing. We live with permanent stress because the 24/7 world is never still long enough for us to re- acclimatise.

We’ve had a ‘pandemic’ of stress and fear long before we had the corona-virus pandemic! We have been alert and alarmed for years. And then of course, the never-ending earthquakes in world affairs can feel like a dark  liminal space. How do you navigate such seasons?

In our newsletter, there’s a reflection on managing such liminal times.

The prophet Jeremiah, writing about his time affirms where hope comes from: “... But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.’"  Lam 3: 21-40

We want to say a huge thankyou to the many who encourage, support and pray for us and for Haven — You are all SO appreciated! 

  Sincerely,
  Martin and Esmae



Sunday, April 26, 2026

Anzac Day | Grief and Hope

About halfway through the movie 1917 there is a haunting scene of exhausted young soldiers slumped down listening to one singing the song: “Wayfaring Stranger.” 

It’s the view of World War 1 from from the perspective of an insignificant shell-shocked trooper in the trenches.
It's Anzac Day again, and many of us will rise early to recall the Great War and the millions of lives that were lost.

The human cost of World War 1 was enormous. More than 9 million soldiers and an estimated 12 million civilians died in the four-year-long conflict, which also left 21 million military men wounded.

There was also a human cost in a larger sense. The war remade the world for the worse in every conceivable way. It ignited the Russian Revolution, it laid the ground for Nazism. It made World War II pretty certain. It’s hard to imagine the second world war without the first. What is unmeasurable, is the huge personal and emotional toll on a generation in terms of ongoing grief and trauma.

Each generation — and each of us personally will in some way — experience grief and trauma. Whether its the loss of a loved one; or surviving a natural calamity like a massive bushfire or flood, or a life- threatening illness — or maybe by having the rhythms and hopes and dreams of our lives derailed by some unexpected and inescapable shock or crisis 
— the great depression or nine-eleven for some, the repercussions of the COVID:19 crisis for others, the war in Ukraine or the Gaza crisis or grinding poverty or oppression.

Thursday, April 02, 2026

On Generosity | Thoughts before Easter

On our own, we conclude: there is not enough to go around

we are going to run short
of money
of love
of grades
of publications
of sex
of beer
of members
of years
of life

we should seize the day
seize our goods
seize our neighbours goods
because there is not enough to go around

and in the midst of our perceived deficit
you come
you come giving bread in the wilderness
you come giving children at the 11th hour
you come giving homes to exiles
you come giving futures to the shut down
you come giving easter joy to the dead
you come – fleshed in Jesus.


Thursday, March 26, 2026

Coming to the City Nearest You

Palm Sunday, 29th of March 2026!

Jesus comes to Jerusalem, the city nearest you.
Jesus comes to the gate, to the synagogue,
to houses prepared for wedding parties,
to the pools where people wait to be healed,
to the temple where lambs are sold,
to gardens, beautiful in the moonlight.
He comes to the governor’s palace.

Jesus comes to Jerusalem, the city nearest you,
to new subdivisions and trailer parks,
to penthouses and basement apartments,
to the factory, the hospital and the Cineplex,
to the big box outlet centre and to churches,
with the same old same old message,
unchanged from the beginning of time.

Jesus comes to Jerusalem, the city nearest you
with his Good News and…
Hope erupts! Joy springs forth!
The very stones cry out,
“Hosanna in the highest,
blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
The crowds jostle and push,
they can’t get close enough!
People running alongside 
flinging down their coats before him!
Jesus, the parade marshal, waving, smiling.
The paparazzi elbow for room,
looking for that perfect picture for the headline,
“The Man Who Would Be King”.