Trapped

SWEET COUNTRY is a disturbing movie.  Filmed and directed by indigenous director Warwick Thornton, it is a moving collaboration between some of Australia's finest actors and unknown local aboriginal newcomers.  It provides a snapshot of the tough conditions that faced returned WWI diggers as they struggled to open up central Australia to cattle raising.

Up front it focuses on the racial tensions between the settlers and the aborigines they dispossessed whilst making them work in slave labour conditions on the properties.  But there are other demons at work too.  Alcohol becomes the solace for the ex-soldiers battling the heat and loneliness and harsh realities of the desert country.  This fuels tensions.  Sam Kelly kills one such settler in self-defence of himself and his wife. He is hunted and brought to trial, but exonerated.  Not acceptable to the locals:  he is shot dead as he leaves town.

Interestingly the story-line is based on fact.  Google "Wilaberta Jack" and on the Trove website you'll find a report of a trial in Darwin in the 2 August 1929 edition of the Northern Standard of one Wilaberta Jack accused of murdering Harry Henty.  It makes fascinating reading as it recounts word for word the testimony of witnesses. The jury returns a verdict of justifiable homicide.

In many ways it is a depressing story.  It reminds us vividly of the injustices visited upon the first peoples of this land.  It also points to the disadvantages and lack of support suffered by those living in remote areas, even as they struggle to make a living for themselves and to contribute to our national economy.  For today it also highlights the lack of care for returned servicemen who suffer as a result of their time in war zones - then and now!  And it challenges us to pay greater attention to the scourge of alcohol and drug addiction in our communities.

On the face of it, Sweet Country portrays the unjust situations the faced aboriginal people.  They were trapped in a hopeless circumstance with little protection or prospect.  Despised as savages, exploited as slave labour, their women used as sex relief, they inhabit a sad chapter in our national story.  But the other players - the settlers, the townsfolk, the mounted police - are all equally trapped in the harsh reality of frontier life.  One wonders how they could have been other than they were.

The magpie and the crow

For some reason in recent months a couple of local magpies have taken to visiting my balcony.  They sit perched on the railing, surveying the surrounding territory before taking off to do whatever magpies do.  Both seem friendly and inquisitive, eyeing me up and down as I sit reading in the shade.  Eventually one got cheeky enough to come close and try to steal some of my biscuit as I enjoyed a cuppa.

Foolishly (?) I started to leave a piece of biscuit or bread on the rail, gratefully gobbled up by my winged visitors. Wikipedia informed me that as carnivores such birds should only be fed unprocessed foods:  puppy kibble suggested.  So I bought a packet and started leaving a small dish together with a bowl of water in my plant-less planter. Throughout the day I enjoy watching the occasional visitors:  a couple of baby magpies, a currawong, butcher birds as well as the original magpies as they nibble the kibble and dip into the water bowl.

But all is not idyllic.  The noisy caw caw of a local crow perched on the foxtel cable opposite warns of the approach of the avian bully.  With a swoosh of black the crow lands on the balcony rail, frightening the incumbent feeder away.  It then hops down and cleans out the feeding dish greedily, usually tips over the water bowl and heads off leaving nothing for lesser locals. 

Needless to say, if I become aware of the crow's presence I quickly chase the invader away with stern warnings that it is not welcome and that the food is definitely not for it.  But it is a sneaky animal, and a completely empty dish is a sure sign it has managed to raid the pantry yet again.

In a quiet moment I got to thinking:  why this discrimination against the crow?  Why such dislike for this emblematic Aussie bird?  Is it that its jet black plumage and beady eye are so universally associated with death?  Is it the Cain and Abel thing, the crow bearing the mark of the murderer Cain upon it?  Is it some sort of repulsion drawn from so often seeing crows feeding on rotting road kill as one drives country roads?  Is it the annoying persistence of its loud cry?  Is it the surfacing of an inherent racism within myself drawn out by its blackness?

Yes!  is the crow any less a creature of God adding variety and colour to our landscape?  Is it any less deserving of affection and feeding than its more variegated cousins?  I suspect the crow and the magpie may be Jungian indicators of human interactions that need deeper awareness and consideration.

Meanwhile my prejudice continues unabated!  The crow is just not welcome on my balcony .. yet.   Now I need to find suitable names for my magpie chicks 😃

M*A*S*H as image of Church

Cardinal Cupich of Chicago has been reminding us that Pope Francis gave us a powerful image for Church when he likened it to a field hospital.

Got me thinking about the TV series MASH 4077 and its zany crew.  And I couldn't help but realise just what a wonderful image it is.

No neat Emergency Room crew here, running a slick corporate medical clinic.  Rather an unlikely bunch of the good, the bad and the ugly.

Yes, there's the kindly Father Mulcahy whose seminary training would have done little to prepare him for the dramas of the Korean conflict.  His "parish" was far removed from the routines decreed by diocesan guidelines and episcopal pronouncements.  For him, the gospel was the only handbook he could rely on.  He had to learn the hard way to accept people as they are and to journey with them where he found them.

Margaret and Frank displayed the weakness of human nature in their marital infidelity and clandestine lust.  Ambition too, and forever seeking to take advantage of others to further their own ends.  But for all that, they were part of the team and when it counted could be healers and life-givers.

Radar O'Reilly reminds me of the indispensable "little people" in the church.  In his own quiet way, he is the one who gets things done and who really keeps the unit humming along.  He doesn't get much credit for it; is pushed and pulled and used; has no authority yet knows how to achieve what needs to be done. Without Radar I doubt that MASH 4077 would have survived.

What can we say about Klinger?  Let's just be reminded that the misfits of the world should find a home in the church as much as the rest of us.  And not just to be cared for.  They have their own contribution to make if only we accept them and give them scope.  How often Klinger rescued situations in the MASH stories!





Cupich and Francis both draw attention to another aspect of the image of Church as field hospital.

It's not just about having a well equipped centre with all the latest equipment and bundles of bandages waiting for patients to come in for treatment.  In fact our near-empty churches remind us that "patients" don't often turn up for our scheduled services.  No.  The field hospital has another function -- one that wasn't highlighted so often in the TV series.




 As important as the doctors and nurses and field hospital staff are the paramedics who are sent out by helicopter to rescue the wounded in the field. They treat them on the battlefront, stabilise them for transport back to the field-hospital.  But often their patients don't come back with them.  Patched up, they choose to remain out there in their messy world.  The paramedics equip them to get on with life whilst always knowing that the field hospital is there as a resource if ever they decide they need it.  Yes, the church has to see to it that it is "missionary", going out and ministering to people in their daily lives;  not just sitting at home and waiting for them never to come looking.

I guess the trick question in all of this is:  who from MASH 4077 am I ????