9 minute read
A Season for Everything
The Salvation Army in Aotearoa is currently rolling out the most significant structural change since its commencement over 140 years ago. Richard Kerr-Bell, The Salvation Army’s tumu whakarae (national Māori director) for te Rūnanga nationally, explains the meaning and symbolism behind the new names Tai Timu (Southern Division) and Tai Pari (Northern Division). Drawing on the invitations from God to take time to reflect, remember and give thanks embedded within Matariki celebrations, Richard offers some wisdom for navigating this season of change.
WORDS Jules Badger
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven’ (Ecclesiastes 3:1).
In Aotearoa, the rising of the star cluster known as Matariki (the Pleiades of the South Pacific), on the darkest night of the year, heralds the dawn of the Māori New Year. Matariki is visible for most of the year but sets in the west for a month in the early evening in May, and periodically in June, rising again in the predawn sky of June or July. And on Friday 28 June, all who call New Zealand home receive the gift of a public holiday and with it the invitation to pause and give thanks.
Iwi (tribes) use different visible stars to signal this seasonal change across Aotearoa. Tainui iwi, in the central North Island, use Rerehu, also known as Antares. Southern iwi are looking for a different star— Puaka, known as Rigel, the brightest star in Tautoru (Orion’s Belt) which signals the start of winter and the end of the muttonbird and tuna harvesting season.
Disconnect to reconnect
Richard Kerr-Bell (Ngāpuhi | Te Rārawa | Te Aupōuri | Ngāti Kuri) observes that increasingly, New Zealanders are embracing Matariki as more than just a day off— it’s a time for reflection and celebration.
‘Matariki is a time for gratitude and to give thanks,’ says Richard. ‘It’s an invitation to disconnect from distractions that draw us away from God and dominate the still moments in our lives—and instead reconnect with the Spirit and with creation. Matariki is also a time to be together as whānau and remember those who have passed away. This may bring up some sadness for us, but those vulnerable moments give us a chance to keep stories alive and retell whakapapa (genealogy). Matariki can be a deeply significant time.’
In our ‘open 24/7’ world of digital distraction, Matariki also invites us to notice and re-engage with the natural rhythm of creation. Richard suggests that, ‘There’s joy to be found in God and within the changing of seasons. Matariki allows space for us to be still and reflect on our relationship with God, and it encourages us to consider what the seasonal changes around us have to say to us about our spiritual life. Matariki also provides an invitation to sit peacefully together and reflect on the true state of our lives. It challenges us to notice how long it’s been since we really noticed what the sun or the wind or the rain feels like on our skin. Are we grounded in God and on the earth that God created? The same earth Jesus walked upon as flesh and blood.’
Light from the darkness
The Matariki star cluster is mentioned three times in the Bible—twice in the book of Job, and again in Amos 5:8. ‘He who made the Pleiades and Orion, who turns midnight into dawn and darkens day into night, who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out over the face of the land—the Lord is his name.’
Obviously, here in the Southern Hemisphere we celebrate Matariki in the depths of winter. In the Northern Hemisphere, Christmas takes place at the exact same point in the lunar calendar—winter solstice. Our location means we celebrate the birth of Christ at the height of summer and miss the deep symbolism of the light coming out of the darkness.
‘As the seasons change, how we respond is discernable— if we take time to notice, that is,’ suggests Richard. ‘As the temperature drops, we put on coats and shoes, and we stay indoors more. When we go outdoors, it’s for shorter periods of time. We eat more hot meals and of course if you’re a squirrel you store nuts! But there are clear signs that the season is changing and when we take the time to notice, there’s an invitation to also reflect on the changing seasons of our lives.’
As we head into this season of significant change within The Salvation Army in New Zealand, many of us will likely vacillate between excitement and uncertainty about the future. With special thanksgiving services taking place around the country as the four divisions are dissolved, Matariki offers a timely opportunity to push pause and allow God to fortify us.
Seas of change
The Salvation Army in New Zealand is moving from four divisions to just two, with each division comprised of ‘areas’. There are seven areas and these areas, with their corresponding area officer and area leadership teams, are the beating heart of the changes. So while the divisions will not function as they have in the past, the imagery behind the new names Tai Timu (Southern) and Tai Pari (Northern) not only conveys the interdependence of vision, values and mission, but Richard also explains the connection they have with Matariki.
‘I really love the divisional names. Tai Timu is the ebb tide, or low tide; and Tai Pari is the high tide, or incoming tide. The tide comes in and goes out and is also affected by the changing seasons. In the Matariki star cluster, there are three stars that specifically relate to water. Waitā is fresh water, and the creatures and plants that live in our bodies of fresh water. Waitī is the ocean and the more salty, tidal waters. And Waipunarangi is the water that comes from the sky— rain, hail and snow. We are surrounded by water in Aotearoa, so we have an awareness of the living water around us and its beauty.’
Most of us will immediately grasp the significance of this tidal imagery in these new divisional names. Both tides are vitally important for the flourishing of creatures and plants that live in and around the ocean. Furthermore, our vision to be the Army that brings life is beautifully and insightfully captured within this imagery.
Richard explains that naming the divisions in this way achieves two things: ‘Firstly, it’s connecting us to mana whenua and honouring Māori stories. But secondly, it’s also acknowledging that we need to be open to God in all parts of our lives—the highs and lows. Everything has the potential to feed us and offer life. The different tides are a metaphor that allows us to notice and experience these different elements of God’s work and character.’
Ebb and flow
Richard offers further and more detailed explanation of how the high and low tides inform our current change journey.
‘There’s obvious beauty in the high tide—it’s full and flowing, and it is the best time to launch a boat and go fishing. The incoming tide brings in lifegiving nutrients from outside the area along with species that feed, protect, nourish and regenerate life during this period. The high tide is active and allows movement and protection in, on and under the water. As it turns and flows back towards the sea, the tide spreads what is eaten or carried during the low tide to other areas.
‘The outgoing tide has its own particular beauty, and a number of important things happen when the tide goes out. Exposure to the sun and the elements stimulates growth at the ebb tide and changes the biochemical make-up of what is living and growing on the shore. It provides healing, goodness and sustenance for other life forms and gives unique strength and resilience qualities. The ebb tide provides access to the land and sea for other species to travel and find protection and sustenance. Some creatures require low tide to feed. All these benefits are transferred to the high tide but cannot exist without the low tide.’
Richard adds that the tides also reveal something about the character of God and how we are spiritually formed. ‘In terms of spiritual reflection, Tai Pari reminds us of being alive to God’s Spirit in our lives—faith in action through the movement and flow of Spirit-inspired work. Change is obvious and the dynamic work of God is observable with the fruits of the ocean being harvested, shared and enjoyed,’ he explains.
‘Conversely, the ebb tide can seem like a vulnerable time, but it’s when we are most open to God’s light and love. We can’t hide our true and honest state in God’s presence. It’s like when we sit with God in prayer—it’s not passive because we are actively engaged. So often when everything in our lives is going well, it’s like high tide and we say, “thanks God!” But often we are carried on the high tide only because of what grew within us at the low tide.’
Challenge to change
Change is challenging, even when we choose it. In the first instance humans experience change as grief, but when embraced in an open and healthy way, growth occurs.
‘Faith grows and deepens through change and challenge,’ affirms Richard. ‘And Te Ope Whakaora (The Salvation Army) is going through change. The tide is turning, and just as both tides promote growth and the dispersal of rich nutrients to sustain life, I believe God is calling us back into community and collective unity. As the moon’s gravitational pull moves the tides, so the two “divisions” are moved by the Spirit of God. If we maintain an openness and keep turning our faces to the Son, to God, the grace of the Spirit will flow smoothly into our lives.’
Happy Matariki! May it be a season that brings us life as we celebrate what God has done, contemplate what God is doing, and in faith anticipate God’s goodness to come! Ki tau terangimarie o te Atua a tātou! May God bless us!
