SHORT REPORT - LONG MEETING

SHORT REPORT

At last week’s meeting of the Northland Conservation Board a powerpoint by Vince Kerr regarding the Northland Regional Council’s proposed Aquaculture Management Areas (AMAs) held everyone’s attention. What’s an AMA? It’s an area specifically created to allow for marine farms. Anyway Vince showed a photo, taken around 1885, titled ‘All in a Day’s Work,’ showing a man covered in and surrounded by fish.

Since 1885 90% of the ocean’s biomass has disappeared, and today unique sites, like the Mimiwhangata Reef in Ngati Wai as well as Doubtless Bay and the Nukutaurua Reef in Ngati Kahu, are still being wasted. Our worry is that, if AMAs are added to the mix before we can set up protections like Marine Reserves, Marine Protected Areas and Mahinga Mataitai, things could quickly get even worse. So what’s the hold up? Apparently it’s questions like: Who should run these, and who will make decisions regarding them? If I was a fish the only question I’d have would be: When are you going to act? My solution is simple. Iwi Maori meet and agree on our mana moana, then establish seamless mahinga mataitai round the entire coastline under which Marine Reserves and Protective Areas can be established before any AMAs are set up.

I seem to recall that it was the NRC who signalled its readiness to go where no other Council in the country had yet dared and set up these AMAs. Now only time will tell whether it’s out on the plank above the circling sharks (read anything from cultural to commercial fishery interests here) or swimming ahead of the pack. Whatever, it’s just another day’s work for the fish.



LONG LIFE
It has been my fortunate burden to work with many older men. Fortunate in that it’s generally better to be an old man’s darling than a young man’s slave. Burdensome in that they tend to pass away just when they’re at their sweetest. I mark the death of my old friend John (Haki) Campbell who, with single-minded focus and ambition, made the transition from small town Pawarenga boy to nationally recognised leader of his iwi. Right to the last when Haki walked into a room you knew – Te Rarawa was in the house. We shared nine years as Chair and Secretary respectively of Te Runanga O Te Rarawa and, boy oh boy, if only the Board Room walls could talk! We rarely started on the same side of any issue, but we always reached total agreement before leaving that room, even though what happened in between was sometimes ugly. Certainly no man ever upset me as much, except maybe my dear husband, and some of our ‘encounters’ had onlookers literally ducking for cover. But it was Haki who gave an adamantine cultural base to my more mercurial talents, while I provided the written words on which he anchored his ambitions for the Iwi. Together we fronted the battles that finally won recognition for Te Rarawa as an entity in its own right.

Then one day we looked at each other and realised our time was up. So we both moved into supporting roles for the new generation of leaders who took the Iwi to the next level. But by then it was too late. We’d come to love each other as true friends – warts and all. And that will never change.

There are too few kaumatua of that generation left, and even fewer who can or will do the mahi across iwi boundaries. Haki was one of those who did, in spite of failing health and sight. Florence, Barry and Kim – thank you for sharing your husband and father with us and for taking care of him better than he did of himself. Haki my old darling, although you won’t be Chairman there, kia pai to haere ki te Runanga i te Rangi e hoa. Ka kite ano.

KINK IN THE LINK

This is to the Whanau Hapu and Iwi wherever and whoever we are. As I wrote last week our Whanau, Hapu and Iwi chain is a very elegant one. Trouble is, elegance doesn’t cut it anymore for heaps of us because there’s been a serious break in the chain or at least a kink in the link. The reasons are debatable but one thing’s for sure – we’re the only ones who can mend it. Not government. Not the schools and sports clubs, not the Councils, not the DHB – you and me.

Why? Because until we take personal responsibility for changing the destructive dynamic of Whanau hell-bent on repeating the same mistakes over and over, then all the service providers will do is fence the top and clean up the mess at the bottom of the cliff over which more and more of us are either falling or jumping. In the meantime, our own cultural, societal and familial values are ringing hollow for the abused, the maimed, the bereft and the dead.

We rescued the reo and now it’s time to rescue the speakers. We have to do a “Kohanga Reo” across every living generation of our Whanau and teach them how to be fabulous again. Call it “Fabulous Whanau” or some such, and staff it with skilled “Whanau Mahita“ to do the teaching. Take every prevention, intervention and postvention that already works out of the schools, off the streets and directly into every home. Aim every piece of research, on which new programmes will be built, at Whanau in our homes. Churches, marae, schools, clubs, clinics, service providers and others can support and reinforce what is done, but WE have to ensure the delivery penetrates the point of need – our Whanau in our homes.

I thank Te Oranga, Te Hauora O Te Hiku O Te Ika and the DHB for the Suicide Prevention hui held last week. I hope a follow up call will now be made for Whanau leaders and relevant professionals to mahi tahi. Together look at the solutions offered at that hui. Set up a menu of choices from which to tailor-make the approach and find the best-fit Mahita for each Whanau. Design together the peer review, supervision and reporting format thingies that will keep everyone honest and accountable. Jointly develop and make the case to the DHB or whoever for the money and materials needed. Then power up and work to penetrate our whanau.

Who are these leaders? They are the ones who have the goodies and the guts to do whatever it takes to fix the broken links of our whanau. The ones who will coax and cajole, even bully us and the agencies into doing the right thing. The ones who couldn’t give a flying fig about our rights if we’re a kaka parent or a kuare Crown agent and who, rather than let us ruin them, will take our children to either raise themselves or find a decent Whanau who will. The ones who will help us to rehabilitate but will kick our butts out the door if we stuff it up for their uri. They’re the ones who will help stop this damnable scourge of murder, suicide and abuse afflicting us.

I believe every baby comes to earth ‘trailing clouds of glory’ needing Whanau who are committed and know how to literally lift and power them into their full magnificence. Only then will the desecration and destruction stop. Oh and by the way – misery-mongers, finger pointers, mona lisas and unrepentant abusers of any race, colour or creed need not apply.

Hei konei. Hei kona.

CONSTITUTIONAL COUNT

The time has come, the Walrus said – for Ngati Kahu to put rubber on the road and ratify our new Constitution. This is the end of only one of a number of tangled threads in a complex arrangement officially called the Maori Fisheries Act 2004.

Even I get a headache distinguishing the beginning from the end of this knotty mess, and I’ve lived to some degree or other with it since 1986. That was when Government adopted the Quota Management System (QMS), and Ngati Kahu joined all other Muriwhenua Maori in a fisheries claim against the Crown for breaching Articles 2 and 3 of Te Tiriti O Waitangi. Eventually the claim went nationwide, culminating in 1992 with a partial settlement covering only its commercial aspects. That was the Sealords Deal followed by establishment of Te Ohu Kai Moana (TOKM) to administer the settlement assets until it could be figured out who to allocate them to, and how. After that all hell broke loose.

After enduring a number of Court cases, TOKM finally plumped for an allocation model to traditional Iwi – but only after we’d met a stringent set of criteria. And that’s where our Constitution ratification comes in. We’ve made several changes, but the main one is that the remaining four original Trustees no longer have automatic membership on our governing body. Instead they will have automatic membership on Te Taumata Kaumatua O Ngati Kahu from where they can still ensure the Runanga operates under and according to the tikanga of Ngati Kahu. That way we strengthen our own ways of operating and also meet the standards of democracy.

In a massive exercise we’ve just finished posting private notices, information papers and ballot papers to more than 2000 registered adult Ngati Kahu members who can cast their vote for or against ratifying the Constitution. If 75% of those who do vote tick “I APPROVE” then the Constitution will be ratified, the Runanga will become our Mandated Iwi Organisation (MIO) and Ngati Kahu will finally receive the fish quota, shares in Aotearoa Fisheries Ltd and cash currently held for us by TOKM.

Now the really critical thing is that, while we have more than 3500 individuals on our register, we know that in the 2001 census there were 6500 who chose Ngati Kahu as their main Iwi, and our own whakapapa calculations are that there are more than 15,000 who could rightfully claim membership. If you are one of those who are not yet registered you need to register soon. Contact us at the Runanga either on 4083013 or ngatikahu@xtra.co.nz or online via http://www.ngatikahu.com/index.php?pr=Registrations

Hei Konei. Hei Kona.

Turkeys Don't Fly

THE DELETIONS BILL

Did you hear the one about the bunch of turkeys who went to flying school? After four years they graduated with a full understanding of the theory and practice of flight - then they all walked home.

This reminds me of New Zealand First and its ‘Principles of the Treaty of Waitangi Deletion Bill.’ The architects of the DB, for short, promise it will – improve race relations, reduce the money spent on lawyers, decrease the power of judges, improve our health, education, housing and employment systems, break the shackles of victimhood off Maori, stop apartheid happening in New Zealand, and free all of us to fly. It will do all these things by deleting every whiff of the Treaty and its principles from the current and future laws of our country. The current laws that will change include six claim settlement Acts and 22 other Acts that deal with the use, management and control of almost every resource in this country. Interesting that.

To those of you who haven’t got a clue what it is to be in a half-way real relationship, ask yourself these things. If this Bill passes, what will you make of it when every Treaty claim already settled is revisited in the Courts by claimants determined to protect their hard-won gains? How will you feel about the legal aid budget blowing out as those yet to settle do likewise? What will your solution be when almost every indicator of national wellbeing nosedives as we polarise into those who feel they have a stake in this country and those who know they don’t?

I don’t think the DB will gather the numbers to survive its next reading and, as you may gather, I don’t support it. It’s based on the flawed thinking that one partner in a marriage can define everything for the other, including the state of our ‘race relations.’ And all you couples out there have got to know how poorly that turkey flies.

RESOURCE MANAGEMENT ACT

In Ngati Kahu we have a lean, keen machine called Victor – our iwi Environmental Manager. Originally from England he made the wise choice to fall in love with and marry one of us. After a couple of decades he made the even wiser choice to bring her home and work for us. His particular bailiwick is largely defined by two things – first, Ngati Kahu tikanga and second, the Resource Management Act.

Of the two the RMA provides Victor with his biggest frustration – lack of notification from FNDC and NRC on way too many resource consent applications. Under the RMA, Councils define who is an ‘interested’ party and who is an ‘affected’ party in any resource consent process. Most people want to be recognised as an affected party because they get more say than those who only have an interest. Victor and his peers have done some sterling work to provide these Councils with a definition process that works for everyone. Me and my mates on the Taitokerau Iwi Chief Executive Forum encourage our NRC and FNDC counterparts to adopt what Victor and his peers are proposing.

Finally, if you’re wondering what the heck the difference is between an ‘interested’ and an ‘affected’ party, think of it like a plate of bacon and eggs. When you see the eggs you understand that the hen has an interest. But the pig – ahh the pig.

Hei konei. Hei kona.

Guy Fawkes A Goner

I came across this recently and felt some empathy. “I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.” [Extract from ‘A Tribute to the Fire-fighters.’] OK, OK – I concede it’s a little melodramatic. But as a metaphor it fits.

9.00 p.m’ish Friday night – ‘KA-RUMP!’ Dougie answers my startled glance – “Sparkler bomb.” Sounds like it came from the same direction as the last one a few weeks ago that took out a neighbour’s letter-box.

10.42 p.m. Saturday night – my husband waits in line at the local Mobil. In front of him a pakeha lad of no more than 16 drops ten rolls of electrical tape on the counter. He doesn’t have enough cash, so walks out with only nine rolls. No-one other than Dougie so much as bats an eyelid.

8 p.m. Sunday – the smell and drift of cordite hang thick in the air over Parkdale and Allen Bell, up through Matthews Ave and around North, Bonnetts and Lake Roads. Do these streets represent the money-belt of our town? Hardly. More like the brown-belt. The fire alarm has gone off at least five times already. Is there anyone not celebrating tonight? Yep – the whanau of our Volunteer Fire-fighters.

I worry that some of this town’s restless souls might head out to Maitai Bay or other Ngati Kahu beach spots to let off steam along with their fireworks. If they do it will not be pretty.

Annually Guy Fawkes sees property, livestock, emergency services and people munted. What is that about? Consider those who market it. It’s not their core business, yet all week they’ve pumped out megabucks worth of explosives – supposedly to adults. Want to take a punt on how much their sales climbed around this event? From where I stand it looks like a lot of profit. Ba-da-bing! Ba-da-boom!

The buyers’ side of the tradition is equally simple. They know it’s a waste, but hey! It’s fun / They’re not pikers / It’s their right / It’s a great NZ tradition / What a thrill / What a buzz! With explosives in hand, alcohol at hand and control out of hand they metaphorically shout – look at me! I’m powerful! Sadly, come Monday morning, all that’s left are the burnt out ashes of the money they just blew away.

Tatou katoa – no matter what central government does with regards to fireworks (and I predict a ban on private sales to the public), it’s way past time for this town to pull finger and pull together, to get alcohol free facilities up and running here, to put on a decent public firework displays that lets our whanau enjoy the temporary thrills for what they are, and to think more about what and why we’re buying and selling.

The closing lines of that fire-fighters’ tribute go, “Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who we are, or what our job really means to us...I wish you could though.” Pure empathy I tell you. I wonder if my brother-in-law could whakamaoritia it for me. I’d call it ‘Te Tangi o Te Iwi Insider.’

Oh and by the way - the link in the title above to youtube surely should have earned these particular eejits a special mention in the "Darwin Awards."

11 p.m. Sunday night – kneel in thanks for the day’s blessings, including the Sabbath and our fire-fighters. Goodbye Guy Fawkes. I won’t miss you.

Hei konei. Hei kona.

Humpty Dumpty Hurts

Hurt and emotional pain can last a long time. In fact, unless people have a way of processing their hurt, it can last too long.

CORONER'S ACT
A few years ago my mahi as a SIDS prevention worker put me amongst the first on the scene whenever a Maori baby died anywhere in Auckland. My kaupapa – monitor and get the coronial process over ASAP so that the tangihanga can happen, because that’s our tried and true way to emerge from the grief and loss still reasonably whole and sane.

Every culture dislikes post mortems. I’ve been to many and still believe that, unless there are suspicious circumstances or the family want to know something about the cause of death that may only be discoverable through autopsy, they are mainly a training ground for those in the medical, legal and police fraternities. Engari, all I could do at the time was explain to the whanau pani what was happening and offer to stay with their baby every second as its Kaitiaki until the tupapaku was returned to them and the tangihanga could resume.

Now, while most police, pathologists and funeral directors are lovely people, few of them are trusted by Iwi Maori to be able to give the assurance – “Kei whakahokinga matou te tupapaku katoa o tou kohungahunga – we have returned your baby’s body intact.” I could, and such a little thing makes a world of difference to the living of any culture.

Yet, in spite of submissions asking for it, the new Coroners’ Act still does not include trained Kaitiaki amongst the classes of people who can represent whanau interests during the coronial process. The Act has a number of similar flaws, so come on Hone, Shane, Pita or John – work with us to amend this Act please.

TREATY CLAIMS' NEGOTIATIONS
Remember how the original Humpty Dumpty said scornfully to Alice, 'When I use a word it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.' Well that’s what negotiating with this government is like. When challenged, their answer is along the lines of, “Get stuffed, we’re the boss!””

Example – in the 1980s 27B memorials were created on Crown lands under claim that were being transferred into the SOEs. The idea was that the land would remain available for inclusion in any eventual settlement. SOEs could still use or on-sell it in the interim, but always with the understanding that it could end up having to be repurchased for inclusion in a settlement. Bit like ensuring, before a divorce settlement, that one partner can’t give away all their joint assets to avoid having to share anything with the other.

Since then the Crown has given an unwritten nod and wink to buyers of such land that all they have to do is put a building or any improvement on it and Iwi Maori can kiss their chances goodbye of ever getting it back through a Treaty claim. For Ngati Kahu that includes the Rangiputa station and myriads of small but highly valued coastal sections.

Well it might be legal under Humpty Dumpty, but it will never be right. You have to wonder what hurt happens to the personal integrity of any Crown negotiator who has to defend it? My moko has a word for it – creepy.

Aroha mai ki a ratou me a tatou.

Row Away From the Rocks

Here’s one Hone – you know you’re a Maori when your nanna has a better throwing arm then your old man – and you’re glad there’s no rocks around. Actually my nanna was an Irish holy terror but she had a lot of sense in her hot head. She used to shout things like, “Sure! Pray! But, while you’re at it, row away from the rocks!” Some recent and upcoming goings-on convince me that my nanna was right.

POWER OUTAGE:

On Saturday morning our Bishop called to give us a heads-up that the power was going to go off Sunday from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. so it was time to break out the emergency supplies, check the gas bottle and radio batteries, prepare the kai and other things that would be needed on Sunday, and warn our neighbours.

Come Monday morning I felt kind of superior listening to the amuamu from all those who either got no or very late warning until I remembered that I’d not checked to see if my neighbours knew what was coming – sorry Bishop, and I hadn’t rung around the marae to pass on the warning to our whanau and hapu – sorry Ngati Kahu. I suspect that most of them coped alright because they’ve lived in the area long enough to know that our infrastructure is shonky. Let’s face it, our power, transport and communication systems are vulnerable because they and us are neither plentiful nor close to the source of supply and those things aren’t likely to change in the foreseeable future.

All power to those who lobby hard for improvement – you have my support. But I reckon that a bunch of big rocks getting accidentally blasted into high tension power lines is one of life’s little rocks. Rocks happen and the systems to deal with them are only as good as the people in them, including you and me.

How many of us who were warned then thought to warn our neighbours? What means did we use to get the message out? I didn’t hear anything on iwi or mainstream radio, nor on TV. And how prepared were we anyway? I know our marae are generally geared up for any emergency, but what about us in our homes? E hoa ma, are we rowing away from the rocks or are we just praying and petitioning the powers that be?

PATHOLOGY SERVICES:

Remember my mate who told me about post mortems all heading south? I’ve done quite a bit of digging since then and found what seems likely to be the tip of a rapidly melting iceberg, which is just another kind of rock. There’s too much detail to report on in one column so I’ll start with the fact that the Coroners Act has been revamped and there are big changes in the wind that are going to blow into reality next July. One of those changes is that Coroner numbers are being drastically cut.

Coroners are the legal face of the “coronial process” that kicks into place whenever anyone dies. Coroners are VIPs. Literally every dead body belongs to them until they sign an “Order for the Disposal of a Body.”

When their numbers are cut next year we are likely to lose the services of Robyn Fountain in the Far North, Heather Ayrton in the Mid North and Max Atkins in Whangarei. When you add to that the fact that Pathologists (the medical face of the process – the ones who actually do the surgery) are rare as hens’ teeth and hard to find, then it seems my friend was right, post mortems are almost all going to have to be done in Auckland from next July on. In fact, most of them are being done there already.

Did I forget to mention that Ngati Kahu and most iwi find post mortems generally abhorrent anyway? One of the few things that has made them barely tolerable has been the local knowledge, sensitivities and networks of our Coroners and Pathologists.

I predict storms and wrecks on this one koutou ma, and I can hear my nanna’s stentorian shout from here – ROW AWAY FROM THE ROCKS!

Hei konei. Hei kona.

An 8 Hour Working Day? Yeah, Right.

Yesterday commemorated the eight hour working day, yet my workload last week was pretty typical for me and, I’ll wager, probably for a lot of you as well.

MONDAY:
• Leave for Auckland 5 a.m. arrive 9 a.m. Find a space to write and send the week’s column to the Age.
• Deliver speech to the Australasian Cemeteries and Crematoria Association conference titled ‘A Values Journey – Tangihanga and the Coronial Process.’

TUESDAY:
• Leave for Kaitaia 6 a.m. arrive 10 a.m. Meet to review a business option that needs more time and effort. We identify the mahi to be done, allocate personnel and time to it, and set our next meeting.
• Meet Police Iwi Liaison Officer [ILO], Te Uri Reihana, about the numbers of Ngati Kahu being apprehended, charged and processed through the District Court and find … what’s this? Is it possible that our crime rate is actually dropping? Well, it’s way too soon to tell if a trend is developing, so in the interim we’ll organise a separate hui with the District Court people.
• Teleconference with Waddy Wadsworth about training our marae delegates, executive members, directors and portfolio convenors and getting them to finalise the strategic plan. We’ll try for mid-November and see how it goes.

WEDNESDAY:
• Help mum draft her statement for Te Rarawa’s 20th Anniversary booklet. Oh, the tie that binds.
• Back to Ngati Kahu mode. Meet Te Puni Kokiri analyst, Keringawai Evans, about their new Maori Potential Approach. Looks good, but we’ll need another meeting to flesh out an application for some key workers, some tax and business development expertise and other needs.
• Meet Statistics New Zealand ILO, Telly Warren, about the upcoming roll-out of Census 2006 data. No work needed on this one – thank goodness!
• Meet Fire Services ILO, Willy More, about making our Ngati Kahu marae safer. Seems they must meet the same fire safety standards as a commercial enterprise. Well, what’s a life worth? Will need to work on reducing the costs though.
• Teleconference with Te Ohu Kai Moana about getting our amended constitution ratified. We’ll use a joint postal ballot / hui-a-iwi process, but have yet to set the closing date before sending out the public and private notices to our registered adult members. Still, we’re getting closer to our share of the Fisheries Settlement.

THURSDAY:
• Hold weekly staff meeting postponed from Monday. Have to reschedule the monthly staff supervisions as well. Promise I will. ASAP.
• Work on funding applications.
• Host our iwi radio show that night and get two calls – one to do with local, nitty-gritty stuff. The other from a Ngati Kahu person in Auckland listening to us via internet. Uplifting to my tired heart and mind.

FRIDAY:
• Review the week’s work and prepare for this month’s Land Claim negotiations and monthly Runanga meeting – the former in Kaitaia this Friday 27th, the latter at Te Paatu marae on the 28th.
• Take a call from Peter Jackson – due to it being Labour Weekend, can I get this column to him by midday Monday? Yeah, right.
• Send everyone home early at 4 p.m.

I’m not skiting or complaining – just reminding us all to take a breather, stop and go home when we should. In the end no success outside the home is worth failure within it. It’s an eight hour working day – that’s all.

Hei konei. Hei kona.

An Exasperating Waste of Time

Emma Wills and those distributing flyers headed "We Believe Louise Nicholas" go too far in breaching the High Court order suppressing certain evidence in the recent rape trial of Clint Rickards, Bob Schollum and Brad Shipton. I have no problems with their belief in Louise Nicholas – she is believable. I take issue with their assumption that the evidence they claim was suppressed, automatically constitutes proof of Bob Schollum's and Brad Shipton's guilt.

It is valid to argue that the jury should have had access to all the evidence and to be outraged that it was not. It is not valid to take that outrage and set themselves up as judge, jury and hangman. Guilt should never be assumed. Not even in the court of public opinion. Those who believe in Louise Nicholas would be better to put their energies into funding a civil case against the alleged rapists. Instead they may find their energies and funds expended on defending themselves against criminal charges. Mau mau te taima. A waste of time.

This post is not as soft as those preceding it. But it still represents an effort to listen and hear another point of view while at the same time challenging that view to stretch further and understand more than its own starting point.

This whole issue of the Rickards / Schollum / Shipton rape trial is the kind of thing that acts as a springboard for a heap of deep-seated and entrenched viewpoints (talkback radio stuff). They probably all have some validity, but are too often no more than static that blocks rather than helps the korero. Too much heat and outrage and too little light and understanding.

Outrage only takes people so far - and sometimes that's too far, specially when it succeeds mainly in pissing off those whose support is needed to bring about the desired change. In this case it seems Louise Nicholas' supporters want at least two things to change:

1. Any public perception that she's a liar. Well - good luck to them. I doubt they'll know when they've won because the court of public opinion is a fickle beast.
2. The conventions / laws that allowed evidence they think should have been aired to be suppressed instead. Well, I reckon to change those they'll need the help of a lawyer or two.

My point then is not that Emma Wills and co should not break the law, but that they might do us all a bigger and truer service if they showed the kind of strategic thinking and action of the "great reformers" like Mandela and Ghandi whose every action, even the "illegal" ones, was underpinned and backed up with a willingness to reach out to and talk with their "enemy". I don't see that same willingness in this case.

To end this post - although I have suggested that Ms Nicholas might take a civil case against these guys, I'd be more interested in facilitating a hohourongo (reconciliation) process for all parties. Because the sad truth is that without reconciliation none of them will ever be completely cleared of the paru from this case.

Ye are no more strangers and foreigners

I was really touched to read this morning of the eventual death of
an elderly woman, who was hit by a car while crossing an Auckland
road last week. Now that the life support has been switched off her
name has been published and, in death, she has lost some of the
anonymity of a stranger.

So why would I be so deeply moved by the fate of this particular
stranger? The answer is a very simple and human thing. At the time
of the accident she was carrying her young grandchild in her arms
and he, bruised and weeping, picked himself up from where he'd been
flung on impact, ran to her and cried out, "Nanna, Nanna."

There are, at any given moment, any number of tragedies happening a
lot closer to home than this one. But I recognise and embrace the
universal connection between nanna and moko, the fact that somewhere
there is a grieving whanau and moko, and the feelings I have for
them.

If I could I would tell them these things and hope they gave them
some comfort.

Fare well Aihui Wu. Haere ra ki to kainga tuturu. I recognise you.

R.O.I. vs. R.O.E.

Some of you have been asking after my friend. She is working through the process of repentance and, though the valley is deep and she has lost some ground, she is toiling upwards with a contrite spirit and a broken heart. She sees her disfellowshipping for what it is meant to be – a way back. Her efforts are sincere and, unlike the Saviour, she has many friends who yet remain with her.

If you'd like you can meander through a bit of history she and I shared with each other a couple of days after the Church Council – some of it personal, others of it scriptural; some of it temporal, much of it spiritual.

Back in the early 1980s an ex-public servant, Kara Puketapu, joined forces with the intuitive arch-strategist, Sir Graham Latimer, and floated a limited liability company called Maori International Ltd. Initially they offered a million dollars of shares to Maori only. When that was under-suscribed by 90% they re-jigged their original business plans and went for it anyway. The company’s never really hit the big time but it’s survived, thank you very much.

I was one of the original investors with $500 – a fortune back then. Anyway I’ve had a small and tidy return on that investment over the decades, but even if I’d never got a cent back I would feel OK about it because I never expected the company to last out the year let alone this long. My $500 was earnest money in the old-fashioned sense. It was about Maori solidarity and it showed I believed in the worthiness of the concept regardless of its chances of success. So to get a return on my investment and know that the principal is still intact has been a bonus.

Recent events have caused me to ponder this principle of R.O.I. which is almost universal in the world of commerce. It’s an honourable principle, but I’ve tried to imagine where mankind would be if it were applied by Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father in their dealings with us.

Here’s a scenario? I’m in a deep pit of my own making with no way out. What do I do? Shout my head off for a start, hoping someone hears me. Along comes that someone and, glory be, he has a ladder long enough to get me out. But what’s this? My might-be rescuer wants me to promise that after I climb his ladder out of the pit I will go with him to the nearest ATM, withdraw from my bank account twice the dollar value of his ladder and give the money to him. In fact he insists I show him I have an eftpos card before he will even so much as lower the ladder.

The latter part of the scenario is the R.O.I. principle in crude action. But the front part, right up to the arrival of the ladder-man on the edge of the pit, is a similitude of humanity’s dilemma between the time of The Fall and that of The Atonement.

Amongst the several consequences of The Fall, the most severe, even more than the introduction of mortality, was humanity’s eviction from the presence of God. Its severity was to be found in the irrefutable fact that we were completely without any means to get ourselves back into His presence. Adam’s and Eve’s transgression, as it were, put us in the pit.

I mention them both here, even though the scriptural record at times singles out either Eve (1 Timothy 2:14) or Adam (Romans 5:12). It was Eve who first understood they had to break God’s second commandment (Genesis 2:17) in order to fulfil His first (Genesis 1:22). And when she explained it to Adam he also understood, then took and ate of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

After that Adam and Eve, knowing good from evil and no longer permitted to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Life, were of necessity sent out of Eden by God and into the world of mortality. Here they brought forth the bodies of God’s spirit children. Here they and we all could undergo the tests of earthly life in preparation for a greater glory in eternity (2 Nephi 2:25)

Like Eve I feel to glory in God’s Plan of Happiness for us all (Moses 5:11).

Again, like Eve, I also understand the severity of the consequences for their transgression and the mercy required to redeem us from the penalty imposed by justice (Mosiah 3:19).

Like Isaiah I stand in awe and gratitude for the unconditional mercy of Jesus Christ in redeeming us from justice’s harsh requirements (Isaiah 53:4).

Like Paul I understand that Jesus Christ’s atoning death and His subsequent resurrection guarantee resurrection and immortality to all without condition (Acts 24:15).

Like Daniel I accept that not all of us will be resurrected to eternal life and that there is a distinction between immortality and eternal life, the former being granted to all without condition, the latter attained to only on conditions of faith, repentance and righteousness (Daniel 12:2).

Like the listeners on the Mount I have heard the standards of righteousness set for all who wish to inherit eternal life with Jesus the Son and God the Father (Matthew 5:48).

And like my friend I have reason to be very grateful for the principle of repentance which permits the grace of Jesus Christ to fill the inevitable deficit between my best efforts (James 2:22) and the requirements of perfection (2 Nephi 25:23).

Imagine then if, before He would redeem us, the Saviour of mankind had insisted on an R.O.I. The thought makes me shiver because it would be impossible. So what are we to do? We are to do our very best, that’s all. The rest has already been done by Him and, although we more often than not under-subscribe to His generous terms, He still makes the investment in us. All He seeks in return is our effort – an R.O.E. Amazing isn’t it?



Faced with a choice between the Lord’s R.O.E. and Maori International’s R.O.I, which would you choose? Well, like I said I'm grateful for the R.O.I. but in the eternities it won't amount to a hill of beans. So they can keep the times and spaces - big or small. As for me and my friend, we’re trying for the option where neither time nor space will have any more meaning. I often wonder if I’ll make it, but I’m going for it anyway.

“… choose you this day whom ye will serve; …. but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” [Joshua 24:15]

Thy Friends Do Stand By Thee - Chev and Friends at the Beach in summer 2005

Who Can Find A Virtuous Woman?

There's a song running through my head today. It's a song composed and arranged by a woman of faith, and gives me the most appropriate introduction to this post.

SHE’S MY SISTER – by Janice Kapp Perry

There’s a feeling in the air, that says out there somewhere,
There is someone reaching high who feels the same as I.
And she knows, yes she knows, with a countenance that glows,
With every fibre, every part, down deep within her heart
That the gospel light is true, even as I do.

There’s a feeling that we share, a joy beyond compare,
It’s a ray of heaven’s light that comes from doing right.
And she knows, as I know, that our Sisterhood will grow,
With every deed that shows our love for Father up above,
For His light will never dim as we follow Him.

She’s my sister,
Far across the sea, or right next door to me,
She’s my sister.
And we’ll walk hand in hand with God, holding to the iron rod,
With faith enduring to the end, we will be eternal friends.

---oo0oo---

I write this post thinking of someone in particular. A friend. Today she came to see me, tonight she will probably go before a church disciplinary council, and tomorrow she may be ex-communicated or dis-fellowshipped.

There’s no particular reason why we are friends. In fact, until Bo’s death, I hadn’t really spent much time with her. I knew heaps about her though. Facts - some good, many bad, others indifferent. Yes, I knew a lot about her, but I didn’t know her. Now, as much as one human being can know another, I know her.

She’s the lady who came looking for me almost every day for weeks on end while I wallowed in the lowest despond. She’s the lady who reintroduced me to the Holy Spirit and helped me see my husband’s inner beauty at a time when it was not at all apparent. She’s the lady who lets me give to her. We have exposed ourselves to each other. We have sorrowed and joyed together. We have hit rock bottom and found our best friend and big brother was right there – loving and lifting us back up. We share a faith in Him and all He has done, continues to do and will yet do for us. We have changed and been changed by knowing each other.

Maybe if we hadn’t shared the bitter and the sweet times we wouldn’t be so close. Maybe if we didn’t share a foundational faith in Jesus Christ we would not be friends. Who knows? Who cares?

She’s my friend, a sister, and it seems appropriate to close this post with another song by another woman of faith.

---oo0oo---

WHERE CAN I TURN FOR PEACE – by Emma Lou Thayne (1971)

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
when other sources cease
to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart,
anger or malice,
I draw myself apart,
searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know,
where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand
to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
in my Gethsemane,
Saviour and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds
for my beseeching
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.