POST by JED: Made in Australia

My father is the most eccentric person you’ll ever meet. I would be happily drifting in-and-out of consciousness when his screaming would instantly sober my senses.

I was 6 years old and for one-reason-or another was made to sit in the main service of our unique, small, full, Sydney-side, suburban Church.

I found the man enthralling, totally interesting, and at the same time long-winded and boring. The moments I loved most was when his face would turn blood-red and he would scream at the top of his lungs (I never experienced this burst of outrage towards me personally, that always came from my mother… She has red hair).

And then it was my turn. I would go up to the front of the Church, puppet in hand, and would crouch down beside my father. My place was at the bit that wasn’t quite the monstrous pulpit my father was standing behind, but wasn’t the door to the vestry either. It was halfway, a sort of sitting spot for a would-be preacher, or the Queen of England, or somebody else who might think themselves better than to be sitting with the common people.

My father and I would have a chat, in front of the ENTIRE congregation. Him, as himself – the preacher, and me as “Matthew”, the “Cruppit”. I took this moment VERY seriously, as this was my minute of monthly fame.

My father would ask me questions, pre-rehearsed (one would hope) and then I would give a detailed response, not letting a single hair on my head be seen by my audience. For I didn’t exist, I became the heart and soul of “Matthew” the blonde haired “cruppit” from who´s inner sanctum was filled with my sweaty right hand (and arm… I know, perhaps that should have been added as a verse in the Bible).

My father would continuously close my (Matthew´s) mouth with his preacherly hand, or ask me to close my mouth. He´d talk to me, both before and after the service, about how my mouth should always be closed (when not speaking) in front of the congregation – because to not do so would be staring, which is very rude. However, I´d always forget.

This continual correction in front of my audience was a tad humiliating, because this wasn´t “Matthew´s” fault, it was my fault, and the people knew “Matthew” wasn´t real (I hoped… I loved the congratulations after the service… The adoration… I LIVED for my audience!!!). I felt patronised and saw my future on the stage slipping steadily from my grasp.

I was so embarrassed. I was standing on the stage of Sydney´s foremost amusement park - a world of fun. Donned in white pants (hello ABBA), blue polo-shirt (a hideous American invention), and topped with a ridiculous looking cowboy hat (with bobbing corks, a repugnant Aussie invention, though highly functional – IN THE BUSH! (Aussie word for area outside of Aussie cities, but not dessert, which we term the outback, I think…)), I was the only “amusement” at this park… Along with my “sister” (I grew up with her at the mission, and she is now the sister of my sister-in-law… We´re family). Actually, she was the amusing one... She was singing with her mouth open wide, a bit too exaggerated-like, looking kindly upon the spectators, with a gentle smile and slow, nodding head. I noticed people laughing at her.

We were told that we had to sing with our mouths open-wide. Too much. It looked stupid. I was embarrassed to even observe our coach, Lisa, who would sing with her mouth so wide I felt concerned for her, that she might accidently inhale a fly buzzing by, or a small bird, or child, or something…

The song we were singing was an Aussie Medley, with a mish-mash Church fate variety special, American marching band, young talent time kind of feel to it. Horrendous! The song ended, thank God, and we were on to our next act, “This Little Light of Mine”.

I slipped away from my eccentric “sister”, and took my position at the mike. To my horror, my eccentric “sister” joined me at the front. I had forgotten that SHE was the MAIN singer in this song, and I was to be her accompaniment. “This little light of mine… I´m gonna let it shine” (oh, and a special shout-out to Psalty and the Kids Praise Kids at this stage...).

What was I to do. I couldn´t bare to be seen as a freak, for I have talent, and it´s me who should be letting my little light shine, not my wide mouthed, head bobbing “sister”. I entered the song and sung with all my heart. I was loud, clear, and just beautiful. My part over, “I shall replace the mike and wow my audience with my meticulously crafted dance moves”, or so I thought…

Now the main stage for this amusement park was on a man-made lake. There were 100 kids on this stage, and only a small gangway, which had to be walked over, single file, in order to be accessed.

I couldn´t get the mike on the stand. My big-mouthed “sister” was now dancing beautifully in the centre of the stage, and all eyes were on her. I had to act fast. The clasp just wouldn´t open wide enough, I´d have to give it a great-big shove and hope for the best.

I shoved and the mike went into the water… My “sister” continued to dance, mouth opened wide and with great BIG dance moves, but all eyes were now on me. Yes I was praising Jesus and letting my little light shine, but to the theme of blub, bluub, bluuub, bluuuuuuuuurb!

The mike had fallen into the water! Half of the children were still dancing, and the other half were staring at the audience, who half of which were waving wild-eyed at me, whilst I was staring into the water… I went to retrieve the MIKE (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!) screamed several burly, Western-Sydney men (before the days of Hillsong, when Western Sydney was still a bit festy).

I jumped back and looked up. They looked like they were going to cry… Could they have been as disappointed about my performance as I was. The poor fellows, they clearly were desperate to see me dance. Their wives chided them to shut-up.

I retrieved the Mike bluuuuuuuuurb, bluuub, bluub, blub, placed it on the ground, assumed my position and started to dance. However, nobody else was dancing and at that moment the music was cut. Jaded? Devastated? Ruined? My life was over…

Kate Carnell was there, this really was quite something! I had been married for a little over a year. We had lived for 6 months in Australia and 6 months in the UK. We had returned to Australia and had started a café with our best buds Guy and Jenny. Francesca was a month old.

Today was my special day! Although I wasn´t eccentric like the others in my

NEIS (New Enterprise Investment Scheme) program, I had something to offer the World.

Within my crew of weirdos and freaks were people who had special products and services that would explode like dynamite onto the market. These products and services would simultaneously change, culture, religion and politics of the Canberra region, whilst also getting us bludgers off the dole.

My “friends” had brilliant business ideas such as reinventing the parasol, commencing paranormal conferences in Queanbeyan (which is ironic, because Queanbeyan itself is paranormal), starting gourmet antipasto home-delivery services, etc.  

Liz and I were going to work on this arts café we´d opened, and make it a success. It wasn´t what God had called us to do, but we´d work it into our calling, somehow. It would, after all, be a Christian business and how could God turn his nose up at that?

The enterprise was in a rural setting, close to the city, and it would offer pottery, photography, paintings, woodwork, etc. Our building was beautiful, rustic, heritage listed and today I´d completed my business diploma, which meant that we could get crackin.

Kate Carnell looked around. She was a rather attractive (in her youth, I imagined…), middle aged, bitter, unscrupulous, divorced, Canberra labour politician, whom Canberrans all admired and adored.

She was the Chief Minister for our small “state”, the Australian Capital Territory, the “bush capital”, the home of the brave (our great Australian Parliament), the big cheese. She was nobody…

She looked at me and winked. I wasn´t quite sure what that was all about but I smiled back at her. Then the ceremony... Kate had been swirling her glass-of-red with a frown on her face, but as soon as she was summonsed she elegantly placed her glass down on somebody´s laptop, slapped a Hollywood smile on her face, and meandered onto the stage with charm, elegance and grace.

She gave a 30 second speech, her eyes twinkled (she had twinkly eyes). She wrapped up her election speech and moved onto the awards. One-by-one, clap, clap, clap… Aussies are Aussies when they want to be and Americans when it suits them.

I imagined myself to be on the set of a Police Academy movie, graduating before Cmndt. Eric Lassard. I took my certificate and shook Kate´s hand, she winked again and slurred into my ear “great to see you again”. How eccentric! I had never IN MY LIFE seen this woman, and she was acting as if I was her previous boyfriend…

The tv cameras swooned. “Yes I´ll do an interview…” I stood in front of the camera and, with Kate´s words churning around in my head, I went blank. I looked into the cameras and answered the questions.

“15 people have graduated from a locally based Neis course, a federal initiative to get people off the dole and into small business. I´m on location in Queanbeyan with Jed Brien, who has just graduated. Jed, you´re commencing a business venture, can you tell us a bit about it?” “We´re opening a café in Gundaroo” Pause “Oooh sounds GREAT, now the NEIS program is about giving young people who receive social subsidies a chance to introduce niche products and services into the market. Can you tell us how your business will be different from the offerings of other businesses?” “We´re going to have coffee and other stuff” Pause “Cut tape let´s go to somebody else!”

The young, pretty female journalist flicked her hair around and walked over to the handsome paranormal conference graduate. Where was my head? Why couldn´t I speak?

Bedazzled I sat down. What was going on with my graduation day? I wasn´t the eccentric one, they were the nutbags! I started chatting with my wife, Elizabeth and sister in-law. I was starting to feel calm again, but Kate and the journalist were still dominating my thoughts.

One of the judges, who had argued that I should receive a grant for my business came over to chat. This man was oooooooooooooooold… But it´s rude to mention age when people pass the 40-something milestone. This guy was double that, if not more…

Blah, blah, blah… Rah, rah, rah… Yah, yah, yah… I was done! Ready to go home… “So Jed, when should I come out with my wife and visit your café?” he asked. “Oh, well we´re open Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Yes, you know… You should come out! Sunday mornings are beautiful – get in your car and drive, drive, drive… Then have a deavonshire tea, your wife would LOVE it! All the old fogies do!” My sister in-law let out a gasp/laugh! Did I just say what I think I said? But I´m not the eccentric one! I´m not!! I´m normal!!! They´re the losers, THEM!!!

In Church, and Liz has just finished the game for our youth. Now it´s time to hear from one of the youth leaders. We´ve just hired this young man, thanks to an awesome supporter from Canberra, Australia. He´s a good looking chap in his early 20s, married to a gorgeous young lady of 19 years, and the father of a 2 year-old son.

Now our local Church is Pentecostal, but like many Nica Churches, there is a dominance of rules and not much grace-and-mercy flowing from the hearts and minds of the leadership.

He starts on about how the youth need to be spending half an hour with God in the morning and half an hour at night. The youth should not be listening to secular music, of any form, and should be in Church 4 nights per week and on Sunday mornings. The youth should dress modestly. Muchachas must wear skirts and the lads need to wear slacks (long pants). For this is the will of God for us…

I scan the room. We have HEAPS of work to do. The youth are either texting, or staring out the window. It´s normal, the speakers check-in and the youth check-out. As I peruse I stop at Sezni. Now here´s an eccentric little lad if ever I´ve seen one. He´s my son. He´s beaut! I love him so much.

Now because we´ve just finished playing a game we´re all sitting in a circle. Sezni, however, is the only one who hasn´t moved his seat from the front. His seat is directly in front of the pulpit. The others, who were at the front of the room, have now moved their seats to the back of the room.

Sezni is muttering silently to himself. Odd little chap. He is staring at something. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it´s a bug. The youth speaker is getting really, REALLY heated about the problems the youth have and then SMACK. The bug is dead. Everyone laughs… Sezni had not been listening to the speaker, he´s been concentrating on a flying insect. At just the right moment he had silenced the speaker and brought a release to a rather tense situation.

We´re all a bit eccentric (in our own way) aren´t we? But God is faithful and He will use us if we are willing. Liz and I have just come to the realisation that although “God uses everything for good” (and he does, honestly – he does), it is clear to us that really, TRULY, we are only now for the first time stepping into the will of God for our lives… He has a plan for all of our lives. He created us uniquely, with different gifts and talents, but at the end of the day, we´re here - ALL of us, on this Earth to be of service to Him, our Father in Heaven.