Looking back at Windgrove from the far end of the beach, a faint circle around 200 feet in diameter begins to emerge on the hillside as the she-oaks outlining its perimeter grow and darken. Aside from its main purpose of being a native grass sanctuary, its symbol as a circle carries many different meanings.
Today, it reminds me of the earliest use of the word “sin”: to miss the mark. Archers, trying to hit the bull’s eye, would receive the mark of “sin” when they missed hitting this central point of perfection with their arrow.
Consider this: when the archers were aiming at the bull’s eye, they didn’t shoot their arrows in the exact opposite direction (our present idea of sin). Instead, they were attempting and “trying their best” to hit perfection.
To not be a sinner would be someone who didn’t even attempt to shoot at the target, or walk the path of peace, or attempt to live a good and just life.
Early tomorrow morning, I will leave Windgrove to walk in the Styx Valley with many other hundreds of concerned Tasmanians to voice our objections to the clearfelling of old growth forests.
As a speaker at this forest rally, I will be asking the people gathered the following questions:
“Do we have the courage to consistently speak our collective truth with compassion?”
“Can we commit ourselves to consistently stand up for the trees, despite the personal suffering it might bring us.”
“Will we stay firm in our resolve to respect our elders and never let the chain saw silence these forests, the home of many an ancestor.
To answer any of the above in the positive will require being “a consistent sinner”.
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