Free to Reject (spoken word poem)

“The ultimate in unconditional, gospel love… at least that’s my goal.” In this spoken-word poem, David Sretenovic expresses his vision and faith for life and life after death: hope for all, bar NONE. (Video and lyrics only)

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Free to Reject (spoken word poem)

By David Sretenovic — November, 2016

You are free to reject this; That’s what makes it the gospel; I won’t use coercion, pure and simple; There can be no threat, if agape is in use; and risk can’t exist if omniscience and love fuse; To me the gospel’s simple: it’s unconditional love; selfless and pure, guaranteed from Above; And here’s the kicker: there’s no catch to it; You can give Christ the finger; And tell God to shove it; You’re free to curse Him; You’re free to hate; go ahead and murder Him; I’ve done worse to date; And you’re free to oppose me; You’re free to prove me wrong; if enemies abuse me, gospel love echoes-on; Attack the church; join a cult; change your gender; what’s the result?; Nothing changes from God’s POV; The gospel embraces every single body; Because God sees it coming; And technically you can’t bother; The king on his throne; Who’s got your back like a brother//

For me the Good News is that heaven is for all; Otherwise, it can’t be heaven at all; That’s the beauty of the Christian game; We all came from love and our destination is the same; If God is truly able to do as He desires; Couldn’t he choose to quench Hell’s fires?; Sure I’m not God, I can’t see beyond the grave; but I’m just not inspired unless all are saved//

Think for a moment what has captured the human mind; the most divine images your heart can find; The purity of a child; The nurture of a mother; a wild west sunset; The climax of a lover; Reading that love letter; tasting a vintage wine; memories from that picture; a symphony sublime; The love of a dog; or a campfire moment; finding a galaxy; oooh that perfume scent; Perfect geometry; sculptures of Rodin; surfing Oahu’s wave; holding her hand; Your head on his shoulder; dancing slow; That desert rose; the orchid in the snow; These are all a taste of a heaven guarantee; our souls are meant for a garden of ecstasy; This is the hope I have to share; the gospel of Christ takes us all there; And you’re free to reject it; That’s what makes it the gospel; who needs coercion? Not Christ in the Bible; The truth is that love is everywhere and nothing is at stake for a perfect God of care

Xenophobics Anonymous (Diversity 101)

Diversity has some crucial foundation stones, and the idea of welcoming and including others into your life is one of them. David Sretenovic serves up some morsels from applied linguistics and parenting his toddlers, to give a message of hope for lovers of diversity.

Over the years I’ve gained some expertise in Applied Linguistics, and there’s one particular concept which stands out head and shoulders above the rest; for me, it’s possibly more powerful and worthy of attention than any other in the field. And I think it holds some of the keys for unlocking and harnessing the depth of human diversity. It is captured by the term “an additive environment”, in the sense of “more value, quality and information” being introduced. In its original usage, an additive language environment contrasts starkly to an environment where another language, or even culture, is undervalued to the point where it gradually atrophies and eventually disappears. Here in Australia, it may come to as a shock to my friends that nurturing an “additive language environment” may in fact be an historical weakness for us as a nation, considering the hundreds of languages that have become extinct since Europeans arrived… but many of us are keen to reverse this uncouth trend! And every time someone uses the word “diversity”, they are echoing this sentiment of historical reversal. When we call for diversity, we are calling for inclusiveness of others… but walking the talk wasn’t easy when Europeans first arrived, and it ain’t easy now. But read on if you love the ideas of diversity, community, inter-generational connection and reciprocal respect.

Inclusiveness. It’s inclusiveness that gives us access to the gold mine which resides within our neighbour (in the biblical sense). But the reality is that living inclusively is hard; moreover, it requires a paradigm shift away from the “fluffy” and “rainbows and candy” slogans which governments and the media use to depict diversity and multiculturalism. It’s so easy to share a meme which lampoons anti-immigration, or to vote for the political party which is welcoming refugees…even go to a candle-light vigil. But including these foreigners, and carrying their burdens… understanding their culture and appreciating which parts of it are sacred. Getting to know why they struggle. Visiting their ghettos and being confronted by the violence in their worlds. Man, that’s life-interrupting stuff. It takes time, effort, money and Saturdays. Public holidays. Sacrifice. Oosh.

I find myself struggling to include my kids sometimes. Well, actually, sometimes I struggle to include anyone but me. Don’t even mention my long-term, Aussie next-door neighbours… let alone the indigenous community on the outskirts of town. The refugees being resettled locally are way down the subconscious priority list – most people ought to admit that to themselves. It’s like step one at AA. I think Australia needs to go to an AA type meeting over this, actually. Xenophobics Anonymous? XA we can call it… hmmm, that’s a bit weird, maybe XO? Yeah that’s better: Hugs’n’kisses Anonymous. And we can advertise it with free beer! I’m being tongue in cheek, of course, and a little harsh too (Australia is awesome!)… but a bit of fair dinkum introspection can go a long way.

Now, although I’m as selfish as any other bloke, I do think I have applied the right idea with my kids from time to time. My daughter, Andje (3 years of age), and Jet (2 years of age), will be sitting and playing beautifully: giggles, interactive banter and intelligent imagination – such a delight to a parent’s ears! But then Jet might pull her hair a little too much. She’ll react, and he might not stop yanking. This spirals into raised voices, shrieks, banging … I’ll be holding back from intervening in the hope they can mediate for themselves. But inevitably sometimes they need me to provide some scaffolding. I’ve pondered what the best forms of intervention are and I think there’s a qualitative difference between these two interventions:

  1. “Jet, stop pulling your sister’s hair!”
  2. “Jet, listen to your sister… she’s upset.”

There are variations on these interventions, but the latter has captured my imagination because I feel like I’m shifting the focus away from me, and onto them. It’s no longer about stopping the screaming (so I can get back to what I was doing, or even to stop Andje’s discomfort). It’s now about engaging with the kids and making this a moment of personal growth and care for one another: I am actively mentoring Jet; Jet is being directed towards empathizing; and Andje is being listened to. Our day’s activity becomes less about an external goal and more about our relationship, shared experience and making space for each other’s very different worlds.

I’ve had to lay down what I’m doing more. I’ve had to let my Saturday plans go sometimes. I’ve had to give up some career ambitions. Oh man, but to see my children’s eyes widen with the discovery of each other and themselves… to see them enjoy the sense of family in all its diversity: it’s so worth it.

To me inclusiveness encapsulates the ethos of an additive environment: adding the priorities of others to your own life without sabotaging yourself. Sure it takes time and energy, and a meaningful sacrifice in order to include the young, the old…those with different languages, strange cultures. But there is a way you can do this without excoriating your own identity and values, or expecting them to either.

Ye Shall Know the Truth and it Shall Frustrate the Bleeding Life out of You

In this blog, David Sretenovic takes the reader to that fork in the road where, in daily routines, you have a choice as to which truth to speak. Captain Obvious swoops in like Superman to do his thing too.

“Well, thank-you, Captain Obvious!” Have you ever heard someone say that? It’s said with a double dose of sarcasm, sometimes in jest but other times with spiteful disdain. (If you haven’t come across this colloquialism, it’s directed at someone who has made an unhelpful and unnecessary observation about something which is plainly clear to all present.) Sometimes it amounts to being told, “Make yourself useful for a change, would you?”

I had a funny thought though (go with me for a second):  isn’t Captain Obvious telling the truth? Doesn’t the “truth set you free” (according to the popular, biblical maxim)? Soooo, if Captain Obvious were a Superhero, then telling the truth would be his super-power… that would make him the greatest liberator of all the Superheros! I’m being silly of course, but to be honest I know people – often religious, preachy folk – who actually think that that’s the way it works. Unfortunately it’s not: simply stating something which is true doesn’t miraculously liberate someone. Moreover, it seems to be a largely unappreciated reality that some truths are simply not worth stating. In fact, in any given circumstance, there are always multiple truths on offer (and you can’t say them all!). Developing my perspective here, I’d like to point to two of the more important truths which present themselves in any given circumstance, one of them being pertinent particularly for the Christian Believer.

I face the choice over and over – and marriage circumstances, particularly arguments with Wifey, spring to mind – as to which truth to speak, to harness, to thrust into our discourse. Something has gone wrong in the home: perhaps a child was disappointed because their favourite pyjamas were unwashed for bedtime; perhaps dinner preparation was left too late and the whole zoo rioted – and I am locking horns with her. I know I am right, and I can retell the story for her, stating each excruciating fact, exactly as it happened. In brutal prosecutor fashion, I could piece together the machinery of her failure so no judge or jury could deny my case. (As an aside, I’ll point out that such an approach, brimming with factuality and truth, tends to have to the objective of putting the blame onto her and off me). But, as a Believer who is possessed by the Holy Ghost, I always have another truth ringing in my ear. “Your wife,” He says, “is a Queen, a gift to you, blameless before Me, and achieving exactly what I have intended for her in life, and in your marriage. She is a holy saint, made exquisitely and perfectly, for you and for Me, and her words right now are emissaries from my throne. I, your God, am speaking to you, David, through her! She is Love to you, right now! And what she did in causing this present disappointment looks to you like a habit and a character flaw which you cannot justify or overlook, but this is not her true character; her true character, in Christ, is peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control… just as the Bible says.” For me, in that moment of heated quarrel, both of these are absolute truths. And at that instance, I can only choose to say one of them. The question is: which one is more helpful? To make this point more generalised: in any situation, you can either state the observable truths, or the gospel-driven, spiritual perspective. 

What I believe is a great challenge of life, and indeed a blaring reason for our need for God and the Holy Spirit, is to be able to make the right choice of which truth to be uttering at the right time. And this is my exhortation: choose the best truth you can at every given moment! Choose the best truth that YOU can see! There is no moral obligation or coercion (on pain of post-life culpability before the Great Judge, as some imagine it) to take one or the other, just simply choose that one which is your best and dearest! Choose it now! Choose it later! Choose it every day, for every person, in every circumstance! Choose the best truth you know, and speak it. 

And THAT, my friend.

THAT will set you free.

Peace.

Jet’s Moment of Truth

David Sretenovic retells a story of a moment which revealed something beautiful about how his toddler-son was growing to handle conflict.

Some moments of truth just take your breath away — especially when it’s your toddler’s personality which is being revealed. There have been moments when my two-year-old son’s expression of frustration has made me wonder how he will handle conflicts; some kids cower, others lash out, some have the knack to stand their ground. With Jet, I’ve seen much more of the latter two. But today was a wow-moment: I saw something which impressed me and truly made my heart burst.

Taking some time to be with my Aunty Maria at a local cafe, we’d unleashed Jet and his elder sister on the indoor children’s playground. It’s a veritable wonderland for kids, and there were dozens of them racing around and playing, ranging from rug-rats to primary school aged. At one stage Jet was manning the toy cash-register at a mock restaurant when a much older and bigger kid — literally almost double his size — joined him and helped himself to Jet’s operation. Jet wasn’t too happy with this and redirected the boy’s hands. The boy persisted in reaching for the controls but Jet pushed his hands away again. This happened a couple more times with Jet verbalising, “No!” to no avail. He even tried moving the boy away with gentle nudges to the chest. At the point of near exasperation, Jet turned to face him. He stretched both his hands out, as wide as he could, and looked at the boy earnestly as he hugged him with tender vigor. Having pacified the situation and given up the cash register, Jet happily rounded to the other side of the boy while motioning towards the other play-equipment. He was moving that way but had to halt as he realized his new mate wasn’t in tow. He turned and called out, “Come me! Come!” whilst beckoning him with his little waving hand. Despite his pleas, the new friend wasn’t coming, so he ran off to play anyway. He’d already forgotten about the cash-register because the ball-pit was calling.

My Aunty Maria had also witnessed the little altercation and she remarked, “Wow, he’s so resourceful! He tried one way and it didn’t work, so he tried another way. Beautiful boy.”

My precious little boy — what a winner you are! God bless you, my son, and may your generous heart and caring spirit blossom as you grow, in Jesus’ name. These are the gifts of God’s Spirit in you!

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Stepping Stones for Andje

David Sretenovic shares a poem inspired by time with his daughter, and reflects on the stepping stones of her growth into his family faith.

Earlier in the week I captured a special moment with my daughter Andje [AHN-jee], who is now three and a half years of age, in a poem. The picture attached is similar to the view I had as she sat on my lap outside 🙂 .

Rain, Snuggles and Tears

You sit on my lap wrapped in your special blanket
We breathe the rain-soaked air and feel the fresh breeze
You snuggle up and smile because you just love to
I hear your voice uttering unfiltered delights
You describe the world around and the world inside your heart
Every idea is magic to me
And just as I see the lines of your pure little cheeks
I see that you will need me to teach you as you grow
But if I am gone before that time
I know God will
The tears they come and fill my heart like the rain
Tears of joy for you, my beautiful daughter

This week has in fact been special: I’ve seen my daughter grow in beautiful ways. Little milestones of independence such as dressing herself and cleaning up spontaneously, next-level manners, and for the first time actively clarifying alphabet letters for her name and others’. And today as we were reading some kids Bible stories, she consciously engaged as never before with the events of Christmas and Jesus’ life story: I saw pennies dropping like a poker machine payout. It was a precious moment, because images from Christmas, Easter, and other New Testament events are so dear to our psyche as a family and our extended Christian community. She was partaking of our faith in a new way. These are moments I’ve been anticipating with joy: sharing with her the hope which the gospel gives to us and the whole universe — and not just potential hope, as some factions of Christendom offer, to “the elect” or to “those who say the correct prayer”. It was a thrill for me to share with her our faith, and to inspire a hope-filled outlook as she faces both life today and also the sadness of death. I was amazed at the hope I heard in my own voice – it was real! By telling her what I believe, my heart and voice communicated hope. And in time, because I have shared my faith, she too will have an opportunity to believe what I do … but regardless of her future choices, I believe I have already instilled a sense of hope into her spirit, something beyond words and intellectual understanding. I do believe this.

What joy my daughter brings. Thank you, Heavenly Father!

Expletive Dirty Gospel (a poem by David Sretenovic)

“Expletive Dirty Gospel” — a poem expressing David Sretenovic’s take on good and evil. [Video and lyrics only].

The gospel is the best thing I know, full stop. It inspires art because art has that divine quality which allows us to convey the spiritual realities we experience via faith. Here’s a poem which explains my way of making sense of this crazy world, and the optimism which Christ has birthed in me. It’s called Expletive Dirty Gospel [Video link and lyrics below].

Peace

David Sretenovic

Expletive Dirty Gospel (a poem)

I could use an expletive to portray my emotion; And you can bet your ass I will on the right occasion; It’s really not my style but I do sense the freedom; in my cut-loose religion of personal validation; Not the type of faith that is sans the supernatural; just a set of righteous rules, plus a heavy hymnal; Of course that’s cool if you worship that way; But let me shine a little light on how my gospel brothers pray; Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; And now we art on earth because artistry is your game

I’ve discovered the craft of prayer; no longer asking “Which craft?”; since sailing to safety on my prayer-life raft; It’s the crafting of stillness; where you become the clay; which cannot tell the potter how to mold it today; It’s the craft of learning who and what we are; those two raw elements, earth and water; No wonder I sometimes get bogged in the miry clay; I’m formed from mud and will return one day; It’s a murky mess which mirrors my soul; a soily personality part good part evil

When God shaped man from the dust of the earth; he was the very first potter at work; And this divine artist truly knew his trade; a creature capable of care and corruption he made; Good and evil, water and sand; why oh why – I didn’t understand; Until I stopped, and took his hand; And he opened my eyes to what he had planned; “Dust and water,” He said, “You are”; “so both good and evil you will discover, But only one will win in the end; no angel or man can stop what I intend; All will be as I planned it would; Otherwise I lied when I said ‘It is good.’”

—By David Sretenovic, November 2016

iVenerate – Jerry and the Cult

This blog takes a quizzical look at the concept of worship and veneration of a “god”. David Sretenovic urges the reader to be realistic about faith and miracles … and also empathetic. [Reader note: “M-rated” for language]

So I’ve got this mate, Jerry, who I went to high school with and I have a lot of respect for. He comes up to me and tells me about this dude they’ve been visiting weekly. The dude lives nearby and works locally… apparently he’s a great guy. But Jerry and his family go there and pray to him. They worship him. Like actually, worship him … bow down, give him their money and do what he says. Jerry is an intelligent guy whom I’ve known for years, but he’s completely given up all his life plans and is simply doing as this guy directs.

Seriously concerning stuff. Hearing all this, my mind just goes, “Cult. Weirdos. How could my mate get sucked into this stuff? They seriously need help. This guy’s pulling some scam.”

The fact is though, as a Christian, all of the above is pretty much how I treat Jesus Christ (God). So, what gives? [Oh, and the above scenario: yeah not real.]

I got to thinking recently that if, hypothetically, I had lived in the city of Jerusalem where the Twelve Disciples were recruited, I would really struggle to do what they did. I seriously think that if I was told that my friends had become devotees of a local guy, claiming Him to be God and literally forsaking their past life for his agenda, I would write them off as fools. Take it further: is there any chance I would bow before some guy — just a local tradie (literally a carpenter)? I actually cannot see myself doing that. I simply see humans as humans, and no one deserves to be worshiped; I am equal, and there’s no way anyone can subordinate me in such a way.

Unless.

There is a genuine qualification I must discuss. If this “dude” proved himself to me. Then, and only then, could I possibly be convinced to elevate him in some special way. I wouldn’t lightly be convinced, but there are probably a few things, of the miraculous kind, which could pique my attention and begin to sway me. For example, if he told me things about my past which no one else knew, or read my mind, that would impress me. If he was able to materialize (like magic) certain things on demand, that would get me to think again. Hmmm, let’s say my friend was decapitated in a local skirmish, and I saw the dude bring him back to life by restoring his head — yeah, I’d be impressed with that. And if he healed my sick child, or if the dude himself was killed and then came back to life. There would come a point where I’d feel like I’m denying my own reality to consider this guy equal to me; I’d have to acknowledge he’s not a normal human at some point. So, apparently this happened to the Twelve Disciples — okay.

What also needs to be added to this picture is that the religion of the disciples, Judaism, had established, recorded prophecies which were being fulfilled before their very eyes. That would, for religious folk,  be an incredible confirmation of what they were witnessing. And these miracles continued throughout their lives, even after Christ departed. Therefore, if all of the above were true, I could not blame them for being convinced to the point of worship. Sure, if the Bible is fiction, then it’s fiction. But the logic remains. And I still need to make my point.

Unless I experienced the far-fetched, unearthly proofs I mentioned above, there is NO WAY I would come close to devoting myself to, let alone worshiping, a guy, just a local tradie.  Unless I saw and experienced some bloody impressive and mind-blowing miracles, I’m sure that I would make doubting Thomas look like a hero of faith. There is no way I could be moved to the point of worship without this context.

The punch-line to my blog is this: it would be completely out of my hands as to whether these miraculous proofs were displayed to me (either in historic Jerusalem or today). The booming corollary is this: my present faith in Jesus, and my subsequent worship of him, is completely dependent on the one with the supernatural power. God.

So I am in no position to blame or resent someone for not having faith. How f*!#-ed up that would be. Nowadays I simply enjoy my own faith, and do what I can to allow others to enjoy what I do. But the actual moment of faith, getting others to see what I have seen, and experience a paradigm-shifting miracle. Pfft! That’s His prerogative! Lol.

Blessings in Christ

David