Ballina Uniting Church

12/12/2025

29/11/2025

A wonderful baptism this morning, with the welcome to a new family to the Ballina congregation and the baptism of two children. Welcome to the Pen*sini family! Thank you to Reverend Pablo Nunez and Reverend Richard Pen*sini who led the service this morning.

29/11/2025

Our beloved J***y and Penny continue their journey in Nimbin with their first Paradise and Lunch at St Stephen’s. Let’s keep praying for them!

15/11/2025

15/11/2025

Jesus Peopke Nimbin, an outshot of the work of Lunch with Punch, was launched today at St Stephen’s Church in the heart of Nimbin. We had almost 50 peopke showing up, a great time of worship and prayer, an inspirational word by J***y Woolley and great hospitality. Keep J***y and Penny in your prayers!

18/09/2025

The God Who Loves Us -
(Based on 1 Corinthians 1:18–24; John 3:13–17)
There’s a strange thing about the cross. Paul says it’s “foolishness” to some, but to us who are being saved, it’s “the power of God.” (1 Corinthians 1:18). That’s Bible-speak for: “Some people just don’t get it.” To the Greeks, it sounded like bad philosophy. To the Jews, it looked like a failed Messiah. And to the Romans, it was just another ex*****on. But to God, it was the greatest love letter ever written, penned not with ink, but with blood.
Now let’s be honest—when you and I say “love,” we usually mean something a little smaller. We love our morning coffee. We love Netflix (until it asks, “Are you still watching?” and we feel judged). We love our dog, our team, our phone. But God? He loves in a way that makes the word “love” stretch beyond its normal limits.
John 3:16 is the verse you’ve seen on everything from T-shirts to football banners: “For God so loved the world…”
Not just the good people. Not just the church people. Not just the ones who vote like us, or cook like us, or cheer for the same footy team as us. He loved the world. Every single human being in history—past, present, and still to come.
That’s billions of names, billions of stories, billions of fingerprints. Think about that. Napoleon. Shakespeare. Joey Ramone. The quiet farmer in a tiny village. The child born this morning in a hospital you’ve never heard of. God knit each one together and said, “This one? I love them.” It’s unconditional. Not based on achievements, titles, or Instagram likes. Augustine, the church father, once said, “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.” That means if the whole world shrank down to just you, God wouldn’t blink. He’d still send Jesus. The cross would still stand.
Now, some of us hear that and think, “Yeah, but God doesn’t know my mess.” Oh yes, He does. He knows your Google search history. He knows the words you wish you hadn’t said. He knows that thing from twenty years ago you still regret. And here’s the miracle: He loves you anyway. It’s a bit like the story of Corrie ten Boom, who survived the N**i concentration camps. After the war, she met one of the guards who had been cruel to her sister. He asked for forgiveness. Corrie said she froze—she didn’t want to forgive him. But she prayed, “Jesus, help me.” And as she reached out her hand, she felt the love of God flow through her. Corrie realised she didn’t have enough love in herself, but God’s love was big enough for both of them.
That’s the kind of love we’re talking about. Or think about it this way: God’s love is like Wi-Fi. You can’t see it, you may not always understand how it works, but you know when you’re connected. And unlike Wi-Fi, God’s signal doesn’t drop out when you step into the wrong corner of your life. That love changes how we see others. If God sees every person as worth dying for, then how can we see them as anything less? That annoying neighbour who always whipper snips at 7 am? Loved. The teenager rolling their eyes at everything you say? Loved. The person you struggle to forgive? Loved. The cross is not only God’s love for us—it’s God’s call for us. John says Jesus came “not to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:17). Which means if we follow Him, our job description is pretty simple: love like Jesus did.
It doesn’t mean we have to die on a cross. (That position is already filled, thank goodness.) But it does mean we pick up our little crosses each day—the cross of patience, the cross of kindness, the cross of forgiveness. It means we choose to see people the way God sees them: precious, priceless, and loved.
History is full of moments when ordinary Christians caught this vision. William Wilberforce, driven by the love of Christ, fought to end the slave trade. Mother Teresa picked up the dying from the streets of Calcutta and called them beloved. Desmond Tutu stood up against apartheid, insisting that every person bore God’s image.
And here’s the kicker: God calls you and me into the same story. No matter where you live or what you do, you’re invited to be a walking, talking reminder of His love. Maybe that means sending a text to the lonely person you’ve been meaning to check on. Maybe it means forgiving someone who hurt you. Maybe it’s giving up a Saturday to serve someone who can’t pay you back. In every little Christ-like act, the world hears a whisper: “God loves you.”
Because here’s the truth: the cross is foolishness if it just stays as a story. But when it becomes a lifestyle—when people see love in our words, our hands, our patience, our humour—that’s when the world begins to notice. That’s when the foolishness becomes power.
Let me leave you with this thought. If God created every single human being in history and loved them enough to give His Son, then your life is not an accident. You are not a random collection of atoms floating in space. You are deeply, deliberately loved.
So let’s live like it. Let’s see people through that same lens. Let’s laugh a little more, forgive a little quicker, and hold on to hope a little tighter. The world doesn’t need more experts or critics—it needs more reminders of God’s love.
And that’s what you and I get to be this week: living postcards from heaven, each stamped with the same simple message— “The God who loves us… loves you too.”

06/09/2025

Today we celebrate and thank all the amazing dads, father figures, spiritual mentors and role models who guide, support and inspire us to live our best lives. Your care and influence enrich our journeys in ways words can’t fully capture.

We also acknowledge that Father’s Day can be a tender and challenging time for many. Be encouraged that our Heavenly Father sees you, knows your pain and is with you (Matthew 10:29–31; Isaiah 41:10). Your experiences and journey are honoured today too.

So, to every person who reflects the wisdom, kindness and support of a father – your impact is greater than you realise. Wishing you a heartfelt and meaningful Father’s Day!

20/08/2025

Celebrating our Heritage, Building our Legacy (Based on Hebrews 11:29–12:2)
Imagine sitting in a stadium. The seats are full, the air is buzzing, and everyone’s eyes are on the runners about to begin a marathon. The writer of Hebrews paints this exact picture for us: “Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses…” (Hebrews 12:1). It’s not just you running your faith race. You’ve got the stands full of saints cheering you on. Think of Abraham in his robe, waving a flag that says “Keep believing!” Moses is clapping with his shepherd’s staff, saying “God makes a way when there’s no way!” Mary the mother of Jesus is smiling with tears in her eyes, whispering “Say yes to God. You’ll never regret it.”
And right in the middle of them all, Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, standing and pointing you forward. That’s the picture. That’s our heritage. But the writer doesn’t stop there. He tells us this race isn’t just about looking back; it’s about running forward, building something for the generations who will sit where we sit one day. Heritage is gift. Legacy is responsibility.

Heritage: Standing on the Shoulders of Giants.
Every family has its stories. My family has one about a great-uncle who fought off a cow with nothing but a broom handle. (I’m still not sure if the cow remembers the story the same way.) Ballina Uniting Church has its stories too. Stories of faithful men and women who, like the heroes in Hebrews 11, trusted God when the odds seemed impossible. Think about it: the writer lists a roll call of the faithful—Moses parting the sea, Rahab welcoming strangers, David facing giants. Not perfect people. But faithful people. God doesn’t require perfection to build His kingdom—He just asks for faith. That’s the kind of heritage we have here too. People who, decades ago, dreamed of a church community in Ballina where God’s love would be shared. People who showed up, prayed hard, sang loud, gave generously, and believed that what God was doing was worth their whole lives. Their faith got us here. It’s like the story of the Apollo 11 moon landing. Everyone remembers Neil Armstrong’s famous words: “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Behind him was an army of engineers, mathematicians, and dreamers who worked hard. The world saw Armstrong; heaven saw the thousands. Heritage is built by countless unsung heroes.

Legacy: Leaving a Trail for Others.
But here’s the thing: heritage is never the end of the story. If heritage is the faith that got us here, legacy is the faith that helps others keep going after us. Think about a relay race. The runner doesn’t just run for themselves; they run to hand the baton to the next person. If they drop it, the race stalls. If they hold onto it and refuse to pass it, the race ends with them. Our faith is the same. We’ve been handed the baton by Abraham, Moses, Rahab, and yes, by those faithful saints of Ballina Uniting who went before us. Now it’s our turn to run and then pass it on. Building a legacy means asking: What are we leaving behind? Not just buildings or programs, but lives changed by Jesus. Not just memories of good fellowship, but stories of love, generosity, and courage that will still inspire long after we’re gone. C.S. Lewis once said: “The church exists for nothing else but to draw people into Christ.” That’s legacy. To make sure that the young, the old, the newcomer, the doubter, the seeker—all have space to discover the God who is still writing stories today.

The Weight that Slows Us Down
Of course, the writer of Hebrews knows there’s a danger. Runners don’t carry backpacks filled with rocks. That would be ridiculous. But sometimes, in the race of faith, we do exactly that. We carry grudges. We carry guilt. We carry traditions that once gave life but now weigh us down. Hebrews says: “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.” In other words: travel light. The past is a great teacher, but it makes a terrible master. We honour our heritage best not by clutching it tightly but by letting it inspire us to run with freedom into the future. Think of it like your smartphone. Remember when phones used to be just phones? Now they’re maps, cameras, calculators, encyclopedias, even flashlights. Imagine if Apple had said, “No, we like the old version. Let’s just keep making flip phones forever.” They would have missed the future. Heritage gave us the first phones. Legacy gave us the ones we with many more possibilities.

Fixing Our Eyes on Jesus.
And then the writer of Hebrews gives us the secret: “Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” Notice that word—pioneer. Jesus didn’t just watch us run. He blazed the trail. He went first. He took the hardest part of the course—through suffering, rejection, even death—and finished it with joy. And now, He runs with us. That’s why we don’t lose heart. That’s why we keep going even when it’s hard. Because this race isn’t about what we can do. It’s about what He has already done.

Celebrating Here, Building There.
So how do we celebrate our heritage and build our legacy? Celebrate faithfully. Tell the stories. Honour the saints. Thank God for those who prayed, served, and sacrificed to get us here.
Live courageously. Don’t let fear keep you from trying something new. Legacy is built when we take risks for the sake of the gospel.
Love generously. At the end of the day, the legacy people remember isn’t sermons or structures—it’s love. Love leaves footprints that last forever. Think about this: 100 years from now, no one will remember what car you drove, what clothes you wore, or what Netflix series you binge-watched. But they will feel the ripple of your faith. Just like we feel the ripple of Abraham’s, Moses’, and the Ballina saints before us.
So, let’s lace up our running shoes. The stadium is full. The race is on. Our heritage is cheering. Our legacy is waiting. And Jesus is running right beside us. Grace and Peace to us all!
Prayer:
Lord, thank You for those who have gone before us, who trusted You and paved the way. Help us to run our race with faith, courage, and love. May our heritage inspire us, and may our legacy point others to Jesus. Amen.

08/08/2025

Maclean Uniting Church presents: “A Songfest of Hymns”
"A welcome is offered to all those who may remember some of the great hymns from earlier times and those who..." read more: https://clarencevalleynews.com.au/maclean-uniting-church-presents-a-songfest-of-hymns/

29/07/2025

“Make Room at the Table: A Sermon for Ballina”
Scripture Reading: Luke 14:15–24 – The Great Banquet
There’s this table. Big one. Long. Wooden, probably.
Bit scuffed. Been there a while. Seen a few things.
Bread’s on it. Wine, too. The good kind. And there’s this invitation—one that keeps going out.
Not to the VIPs. Not to the folks who are already full.
But to the streets, the schools, the skateparks, the nursing homes, the food pantries, the beachfront, the basketball courts.
It’s a table where the guest list is… odd. A bit unpredictable. A bit chaotic. And totally wonderful.
Because the Host is a little unconventional.
And the question for us today is: Are we making space at that table? Not just talking about it. Not just singing about it.
Making room.
THE INVITATION ALWAYS WIDENS
Jesus tells this story—one of his best. Someone throws a banquet. Big deal. A wedding-level event. All the invitations go out, and what happens? One by one, people make excuses.
Bought some land. Too busy. Got married. Can't come.
And the host? Not offended. Not hurt. The text says that he was “angry”, but he doesn’t express his anger through destruction.
He just widens the invitation. “Well then,” he says. “Go out into the streets. Invite the poor. The blind. The ones left out. The forgotten ones. Fill the house.” That’s how God rolls. And that’s where we come in. See, we love talking about “mission.” It’s one of those churchy words that sounds noble, sounds serious. But at its core? Mission is making room at the table.
It’s an invitation. A posture. A lifestyle.
Not a church program with a clipboard. Not a one-day outreach with matching T-shirts. Mission is… the way we live out this banquet. It’s how we reflect the wideness of God's love—in Ballina, and beyond.
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BUT FIRST: ARE WE TOO FULL TO TASTE IT OURSELVES?
Let’s be honest: sometimes we’re the ones too full to come.
Too full of good things. Church traditions. Structures. Committees. Calendars. Too busy. Too tired. Too comfortable. Sometimes it’s like Jesus keeps sending the invite,
but we’re stuck scrolling our phones or rearranging the crockery.
Friends, the church in Australia is at a crossroads.
At the next census, it is very likely that we will have more people choosing the option “Not religious” than “Christian”, from any and all denominations. Now, I come from a Country like that; I know what it is like to live in an openly secular society. And I am not afraid; I’m excited with the possibilities. Because I prefer an outward rejection, that a comfortable and untruthful agreement. But now we need to make a choice: we can either hold tightly to what we know, or loosen our grip so we can open our hands.
The Church has been around long enough to know some things. We’ve got good bones. A strong story. Deep theology. But if we’re honest… we’ve also made the table smaller over time.
We’ve added some expectations: “Dress like this. Talk like that. Sit still. Sing nicely. Don’t ask too many questions.”
And slowly, unintentionally, we’ve made a church that’s friendly—but not always welcoming.
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MISSION MEANS MOVING
Mission is never static. Jesus didn’t wait for people to come to him. He went to them. He walked. He wandered. He waded into messy, complicated, beautiful lives.
So if our idea of mission is “hope they come to Sunday worship,” we’ve missed the whole thing.
Let me say it this way: Jesus didn’t just say, “Come and sit.” He also said, “Go and tell.” That’s why we need to reclaim a sense of movement in our churches.
What would it look like for the churches of Ballina to move together—not just gather in one space once a year,
but consistently act together in love for this region?
I’m talking about real movement. Across generations.
Across neighbourhoods. Across denominations.
Not to build our kingdoms, but to reveal God’s kingdom—a place of justice, compassion, laughter, forgiveness, and yes… room at the table.
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THE YOUNGER GENERATIONS AREN’T ABSENT—THEY’RE WAITING FOR A SEAT
You’ve probably heard it: “Where are the young people?” “We just don’t see them in church anymore.” “It’s not like it used to be.” Can I say something gently but truthfully? They haven’t disappeared. They’re just not hanging around waiting to be entertained. They’re looking for something real. Something big enough to live for. Something that costs them something.
Younger generations—Millennials, Gen Z, Gen Alpha—they’re not interested in fluffy faith or shiny packaging. They want authenticity. Community. Justice. They want a church that walks the walk. Not just sings the songs.
If we’re serious about mission, we need to stop asking, “Why won’t they come?” and start asking, “What are we doing to make room?” Not just room to sit. But room to speak.
Room to lead. Room to mess things up and still be loved. Because here’s the thing: Jesus didn’t handpick perfect people. He handed keys to people who still smelled like fish.
TABLES, NOT STAGES
I once heard someone say: “The early church didn’t meet in buildings with stages. They met in homes around tables.” That’s where the Kingdom spread. Around bread. Around coffee (the good kind, please!) Around stories. Around shared laughter and tears. Around people sharing love and grace and mercy.
Maybe our churches need to do less staging… and more table-setting. If we want to reach the next generations—
we might need to turn down the volume on our microphones,
and turn up the listening at our tables.
What if church wasn’t about having all the answers,
but about creating space for people to wrestle with their questions? What if we dared to say to a group of teenagers,
“Here’s the table. Here’s the bread. You’re invited.
And we’d love for you to help lead.”
MISSION IS MESSY
Let’s be honest—it’s gonna be messy. When we widen the table, it won’t be quiet and tidy. Kids will fidget. Young adults will challenge everything. The music might not suit your taste.
The prayers might sound different. Someone might put avocado on communion bread. (Lord, have mercy.) But that’s okay.

Because Jesus is never afraid of a messy table.
In fact, the mess is often the sign that the Kingdom is breaking in. When it’s too neat, we should probably be suspicious.
God isn’t looking for perfect churches. He’s looking for faithful ones. And faithfulness looks like radical hospitality. It looks like relentless grace. It looks like mission that moves toward the margins.
BALLINA IS THE MISSION FIELD
You don’t have to go overseas to do mission.
You don’t need a passport. You don’t even need a guitar. You just need open eyes. Because Ballina—right now—is full of mission moments.
The café where the same single mum comes every morning before school drop-off. The young bloke at the servo who’s clearly carrying a weight. The high school student who keeps showing up at youth group even though they say nothing.
The neighbour who waters your garden when you're away.
The refugee family navigating a new life.
The older person who just needs a conversation.
Mission isn’t somewhere else. It’s right here. Right now.
And the churches of Ballina—if we dare to collaborate instead of compete, to open our tables and our hearts—
can be a force of God’s love like this town has never seen.
WHAT IF…
What if every church in Ballina took the next 12 months and made this their mission: To listen more than speak. To open more doors than build more walls. To raise up younger leaders and actually let them lead. To practice hospitality—not just in fellowship halls but in actual homes. To collaborate across denominations—not to blur lines but to deepen love.
What if our legacy wasn’t how full our buildings were…
but how full our tables became? What if people in this region didn’t say, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that church,”
but instead said, “Those people? They love like crazy. They make room. They show up. They listen. They serve. I don’t know what they believe, but I know they’ve got something real.”
FINAL IMAGE: THE BANQUET CONTINUES
So I’ll end where I began. There’s a table. Still open.
Still set. And the Host is still sending out the invitations.
To the ones who were told they don’t belong.
To the ones who feel too messy, too loud, too different, too young, too old. To the ones who’ve given up on church… but haven’t given up on God.
You and I—we’re not just guests. We’re the ones now holding the invitations. We’re the ones sent to say: “There’s a seat for you.” “There’s food for your soul.” “You are welcome.”
BENEDICTION
May you go from here as people of the table—
with wide hearts, open hands, messy grace, and wild hope.
May you laugh with children, listen to teenagers, walk with the weary, and stand with the broken.
May you build a church that looks less like a club…
and more like a banquet.
And may Ballina know:
God is still throwing parties.
And there’s room for everyone.
Amen.

28/07/2025

Ballina’s Ministers Association organised and led a Combined Churches Service on Sunday July 27th. Our minister Rev Pablo Nunez was the preacher, and our community prayer for him and his family as they transition to a new placement in Sydney at the end of the year.

28/07/2025

Ballina’s Ministers Association organised and led a Combined Churches Service on Sunday July 27th. Our minister Rev Pablo Nunez was the preacher, and our community prayer for him and his family as they transition to a new placement in Sydney at the end of the year.