Words have meaning and convey meaning. Sometimes, across cultures, those meanings can be difficult to translate in a way that truly conveys the meaning. 

If I look for dictionary definitions of ‘country’, I am likely to find something like this:

A country is a distinct territory with defined borders, a permanent population, and its own functioning government. It acts as a sovereign state that manages its own internal affairs, economy, and relations with other countries. (AI-generated text)

When Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people speak of Country, this is not really what they mean, and indeed barely a pale reflection. 

If I were looking for what First Australians might mean when they speak of Country, I might end up with something more like this:

For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, Country is a living, breathing entity and the ultimate source of life, identity, and culture. It goes far beyond the Western concept of land ownership, serving as a deep, holistic connection that shapes existence itself. (AI-generated text) (

The site Common Ground also has an article discussing this idea. (https://www.commonground.org.au/article/what-is-country)

When the Parish Acknowledgement of Country was recently updated, the term ‘country’ was used specifically with this idea of meaning deeply embedded in it. The words of that acknowledgement read:

Acknowledgement of Country
We acknowledge the First Australians with gratitude for their stewardship of country. In our Parish, we recognise the strength, resilience and continuing culture of the Awabakal and Darkinjung people, and affirm our commitment to walking together in a spirit of truth-telling, justice and reconciliation. (https://elm-anglican.au/)

People who have worked in Papua New Guinea will be familiar with terms such as ‘place’ and ‘place belong me’ (These are expressions well known in Pidgin English), which convey a sense of connection to an area, a tribe, and a community over time. 

Disconnection with Country, or Place, is not simply a geographic thing; it is an emotional, social and spiritual reality as well, and reconnection is both liberation and redemption. 

Europeans brought to this Australia ideas of fences and land ownership, which may be tidy at one level; however, this view of the land would struggle to come to terms with the traditional idea of Country as understood by the first Australians.

Ironically, Europeans also replicated their own connections to their old Country as they replicated place names, such as New South Wales, Newcastle, Swansea, Belmont, Cardiff and others, which were simply recycled uses of place names they were used to.

As Christians, indeed as Anglican Christians, we should be able to make some sense of Country from a First Australian perspective. We agree that life is more than meets the eye, more than energy and atoms bumping into each other. We might call it the dreamtime, or the spiritual world.

As Christians, our place, our country, is ‘in Christ’ (2 Corinthians 5:17). We express this in terms of Church - Ecclesia - those called out. Whilst the Church exists in time, it exists through time, and through geography as we express in the Nicene Creed - We believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic church (The Nicene Creed.). It is here we find not simply belonging without ownership, but life, and the ground of our being. 

This, of course, we encounter in many ways, not least of all in the local expression being our Parish Church. We know this very clearly in our Parish, having recently gone through the process of amalgamation and the closure of some churches. We have come through this and can breathe again. 

If we reflect on our experience, perhaps we will be better able to understand what First Australians are saying. Our commitment to the path of reconciliation, and ultimately makarata (The journey forward after making peace), asks us to listen deeply and find connection built on mutual respect and integrity. 

Abandonment is not an abstract feeling. It has the shape and sound of resentment. (Thomas Mayo - ‘The Monthly’ June 2026 in the article ‘For the love of Country’ p 24.)

Thomas Mayo’s rich and deep understanding of both Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander conscience, as well as the needs of a modern nation, provides for the welfare of all, which means we need to find ways through this more meaningfully than we have. 

‘Country’ is a term that includes its Indigenous context and meanings has only entered the lexicon of the History discipline relatively recently. In part, that recognition of country is an ethical one premised on the understanding that Indigenous knowledges had been excluded from Australian History for the better part of two centuries. ( Anna Clark, ‘The Making of Australian History’ 2022 Pengin Randon House Australia p 264)

Clearly, part of this is that we all know and acknowledge that Australian History did not begin in 1788 or 1770, but in the time before, where we struggle to find dates.

It is easy for our Acknowledgement of Country to slip into a routine of a checklist we tick off; however, it is also possible to allow that familiarity to become part of our ingrained understanding as we walk towards a positive future for all Australians. 

The Funeral Look

I recently attended the funeral of a longstanding friend in a rural community. I had known the lady for nearly forty years, and as I stood there, I recalled that we had first met when I was helping with arrangements for her mother’s funeral.

Naturally enough, I reflected for a moment on her mother’s funeral as opposed to the funeral I was attending. The earlier funeral was in the church with the customary rites and forms of an Anglican Funeral. Today we were in the shade of a bushland chapel in the funeral park, with a clergyman in a suit and tie, and a loosely semi-liturgical form, though largely secular. 

At the first funeral, probably nearly all the men wore a coat and a tie; today, apart from the minister, there may have been two or three ties. Dress standards have changed in our society in the intervening years. Both funerals would have had about 150 people, and I don’t think it is that we care less, but rather that we don’t dress for the occasion. 

Of course, you don’t go to a funeral to look and see who is there or who is not; yet we have to look somewhere. 

Perhaps the first place we look at a funeral is back over the years we have known the person, perhaps with sadness at the end of life, perhaps with gratitude for the road we shared with the deceased. More likely, it will be some of each together with other emotions. 

Having looked back at where we have been, we will also look forward to what is ahead. For most Christians, we look forward to life in a new dimension, the hope of heaven and the glory of the resurrection. We may have different ways of expressing the hope that is within us. 

The last lines of the Nicene Creed express what unites this belief in these words: 

We look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come. 

On the one hand, we look forward to what lies ahead for the person whose funeral it is. We may see that in terms of release from struggle and suffering, the beginning of a new day, and the hope of heaven, of being at one with the Creator, and those who have held the person close in time past. 

We also look forward to the road ahead. Sometimes the grief we experience seems overwhelming, and essentially all we can see. Someone might even suggest that ‘time heals’. I think it is more like when you stand next to a tree, it seems huge; however, as you move away from it, you get a better perspective of the tree and its context. 

We will also look around at those around us, and know that along the way, we need to support and nurture one another on this journey of grief, and that we also need to allow others to nurture us. Grief is undoubtedly, despite being intensely personal, best done in community. 

We cannot expect everything to come from within, nor can we expect too much from others, so we also need to remember to look up to God, who created and sustains all life, and who in his Son has shown us the way through death into resurrection light. 

Truth

Jesus before Pilate

Then Pilate entered the praetorium again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Pilate asked him, ‘What is truth?’

John 18:33-38

Those of us who go to Church on Good Friday are likely to be familiar with this passage from the Passion according to John. Pilate’s Question - What is truth? - is sometimes lost in the midst of everything else, and of course, the Gospel does not provide Pilate with a neat answer either. At one level, the answer to the question is four chapters back.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

John 14:6

Pilate, of course, did not have that information, and for him we can but wonder what the force of the question was as he uttered it.

If you read this passage, especially out loud, there is a question about how you read it. I have heard it read by a student with a real sense of genuine inquiry, and I have heard it read by a sanguine college professor who dropped it with an acid dose of cynicism. It can be read flat and simply dissolve into the text, or highlighted in ways that bring out various shades of meaning. 

This led to the question - how did Pilate deliver the question? 

Judea was a strategic but problematic appointment for the Roman Empire. While it had significant logistical advantages, it was also one of the most difficult provinces to govern, characterised by constant tension, religious conflict, and costly rebellions. 

Judea was Pilate's last significant appointment in the Empire, ending his appointment after issues in Samaria (we today call it the West Bank) around 36-37 AD. 

John presents the Jewish leaders as conspiring together to get Pilate to have Jesus put to death. There are several reasons why Pilate resists, including that no Roman Laws have been broken, that it is simply an internal Jewish issue, and that his wife suggests that he shouldn’t. However, the city is overflowing in preparation for the Passover, which falls on a Sabbath, and the three major power forces, the Priests, the Sadducees, and the Pharisees, so often divided, have found a common enemy in Jesus. To placate them and keep the peace, Pilate Consents. 

The turning point of the decision seems to be expressed when Pilate exclaims, “What is Truth?” The decision is about expediency and political reality, and has nothing to do with truth. Pilate washes his hands. 

And yet, to this very day, the question reverberates through time and again and again we are required to find an answer. AI will provide you with a basic answer.

Truth is defined as conformity to facts, reality, or actuality. It represents the accuracy of statements, beliefs, or propositions in relation to the world as it is. Common interpretations include correspondence with reality, internal consistency, and practical utility, serving as a standard for knowledge, honesty, and evidence-based claims.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth

Maybe such a definition helps, though I doubt that it would have helped Pilate, even if he had it at the time. There is a sense that many of us have that Truth should be both objective and absolute. 

Pilate, as John presents him, abandons the pursuit of a higher good and gives way to the mob to resolve the short-term problem of the potential riot. 

This same struggle confronts us today, again and again, sometimes more subtly and sometimes with less obvious consequences; it is really the same struggle.

We are confronted with information from an untold number of sources. Some of that information is true, and some of it is true in part, and some of it may be true but told in such a way as to elicit a response from you, some of it is half true and basically biased, and of course, some of it is simply false. 

A phrase used by an American President emphasised this problem when he spoke about alternative truth. The phrase itself debases the notion of truth as objective and absolute, making it subjective and relative.

The idea that then can be an alternative to the truth that is also true is problematic, and yet we find people speaking about ‘my truth’.  This suggests that there may be parallel truths about the one thing or event.

For us, as Australians, living in the 21st Century, some particular points about this may trouble us. Most of us whose schooling was in the last century were taught that James Cook discovered Australia in 1770. James Cook, who was an excellent seaman and ahead of his time in looking after his crew and their welfare, yet there are some really good questions about the discovery of Australia claim. 

• Willem Janszoon (1606): Landed on the western side of Cape York Peninsula in the Duyfken.
• Luís Vaz de Torres (1606): A Spanish explorer who sailed through the strait now bearing his name (Torres Strait).
• Dirk Hartog (1616): Landed on Dirk Hartog Island off Shark Bay, Western Australia.
• Jan Carstensz (1623) explored the Gulf of Carpentaria and named it after the Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies
• Abel Tasman (1642 & 1644): Discovered Van Diemen's Land and mapped northern Australia, calling it New Holland.
• William Dampier (1688 & 1699): The first Englishman to land on the Australian coast.
• Willem de Vlamingh (1696-97): Dutch captain landed on Rottnest Island, and sailed up the Swan River and found Black Swans.
• Makassan Trepangers: Fishermen from Indonesia visited the northern coast (Kimberley/Arnhem Land) for centuries to trade

However, perhaps more than 50,000 years ago, as the evidence now suggests, Australia's first human inhabitants discovered Australia on foot, crossing the land bridge from Asia. 

What James Cook did was map a significant part of the East Coast of Australia. Joseph Banks travelled with him on this journey and became a great advocate for the foundation of a colony in what became known as New South Wales.

Another thing we were taught in History was about the Settlement of Australia, which might be understood as the dispossession of the original Australians from their lands, hunting grounds and food sources. 

One of the things that the First Australians are asking for is truth-telling. Our History, the songlines of our story that tell us who we are, has been managed in a very colonial, Anglo-friendly way, where the English are always the good people. If we look at the account from the perspective of the first Australians, we may see a different view as the settlers become invaders and the overlanders become thieves of country, food sources and hunting grounds.

For generations, we have ignored the frontier wars, where tribal groups joined forces to struggle against the colonialists. We did not learn about this in school, and many of us to this day have but a scant understanding of it. Today, there is a new struggle in the History Wars to talk about these things with greater honesty. If we are serious about reconciliation, or makarata, then we know this is a prerequisite for us to walk into the future together,  

This, of course, leads us back to Pilate’s Question: What is Truth?!

When Abraham came from Ur of the Chaldees and settled in the Holy Land, he first arrived near Shechem, Samaritan territory at the time of Jesus. From there, he travelled to Bethel north of Jerusalem, and finally further south to Hebron. Today we would understand it as part of the West Bank.

Jacob, Abraham’s grandson, found a well near Sychar, most probably Schecham. This was taken as a significant site by the people, the well famous for constant fresh water, and the area for the close association with Abraham and Jacob.

History moved on, the enslavement in Egypt, the return and the Exodus. Ultimately, David became King over Israel, and in a move of strategic wisdom, he united the Northern and Southern Kingdoms and moved the capital to Jerusalem (city of peace), and the new temple was built there.

The area was where Abraham, at one stage, had paid tribute to Melchizedek, King of Salem.

The Samaritans rejected the Temple, honouring the holy mountain and Jacob's well.

The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.’

Again, we find this fumbling for understanding, which has a real sense of humour buried deep within it, as John draws out the meaning of the passage.

Now, for us who can’t imagine a house without a tap, we can easily miss this. If every time we wanted a drink, we had to walk downtown, get a bottle of water and walk home to drink it. We might get the point. Before tanks, before running water, what the woman says makes a lot of sense, even though it appears she has completely missed the point.

Jesus said to her, ‘Go, call your husband, and come back.’ The woman answered him, ‘I have no husband.’

Whilst it is not exactly clear why this is the next step, the question is interesting. A woman alone in the heat of the day, going out to the well, suggests she did not want to go out with the others, or that her company was not wanted by the others.

Her husbandless state may well have been a reasonable deduction.

Yet perhaps this also builds on the point made at the close of chapter 2, that Jesus did not trust himself to anyone, for he knew what was in people.

ABM’s brilliant new story/study book for Lent 2026 – or anytime! Gospel stories reimagined in an Australian landscape.

From Steve and Vanessa Daughtry, author and illustrator of ABM’s wildly successful Advent (or anytime) Study, CARAVAN, comes a brand new book, HOLIDAY.

Stories from the adult ministry of Jesus, starting with his baptism by John and finishing at the Resurrection, HOLIDAY imagines the Gospel stories set in a contemporary, Australian landscape.

HOLIDAY opens a door on new and refreshing ways to encounter Jesus. Concentrating on the people whose lives Jesus touched, the stories invite us to imagine ourselves in the scene.

Not just another bland Bible Study, HOLIDAY is a book of powerful stories that you and your faith community will laugh, cry, wrangle and wrestle with.

Here’s what one Aussie Biblical scholar has to say about HOLIDAY.

“In HOLIDAY Stephen Daughtry invites us in to encounter Jesus anew, by retelling key moments of Jesus’s adult ministry from the perspective of ordinary people in contemporary Australia.  The stories are gritty; at times I tasted the dust in my mouth and felt the pain of broken relationships. These stories are also of love and faithfulness, with gentle and true transformation in the lives of ordinary people.

I appreciated the deep respect for First Nations people and ways of knowing embedded into these stories, and the keen observational eye of each narrator as they tell their story in a voice that is unmistakeable Australian.  What CARAVAN provided for the Advent to Epiphany season with stories of Jesus’ birth and childhood, HOLIDAY offers for the Lent season with stories of Jesus as an adult and the ongoing impact of what an encounter with Jesus may mean. 

I highly recommend reading or listening to HOLIDAY in Lent and Easter as we journey with Jesus through key moments of his ministry to the cross and resurrection – and glimpse the transformation in the lives of those who encounter Christ as we hear these stories.”

Reverend Dr Ruth Mathieson, Executive Director & Principal, St Francis College, Brisbane. PhD (Charles Sturt), MTh (Charles Sturt), B.Th. (Hons) (Flinders), DipPS (ACD), Grad Dip Ed (SACAE), BSc (Hons) (Adelaide)

From 1 November 2025

We will trial a New Service Program from November 1, 2025, for the next few months. As The Rev'd Alison Wooden retires at the end of November, these changes are required to ensure that we have a service program that can be maintained.

Especially for people worshipping in Windale and Swansea, a new feature has been added to the top left of the website's home page, allowing you to view the schedule for each centre.

In brief, the changes are:

Windale:
Sunday Weekly at 8:00 am, alternating between Morning Prayer and Holy Eucharist. (That is a shift 3o-minutes earlier than previously)

Belmont:
Sunday Weekly at 9:30 am, Holy Eucharist. (That is a shift 3o-minutes later than previously)
Wednesday Weekly at 10.00 am, Holy Eucharist. (No Change)

Swansea: Sunday Fortnightly at 11:00 am, Holy Eucharist. (That is a shift 3o-minutes later than previously)
Thursday Weekly at 10.00 am, Holy Eucharist (That is a shift of one day earlier and 1/2 hour later)

NB: Especially for Swansea and Windale people. If you would like to download an app for the website to your smartphone to make it easy to check, please feel free. If you would like some help with that, please ask. As Sundays are a rolling fortnights, it should also coincide with the council bin collection for either Red or Yellow bins, so that may be another way of keeping tabs on it.

How Stuff Works?

A little while ago, in a discussion, someone mentioned how they had not been interested in History at school. They went on to explain that they had wanted to know “How Stuff Works?” and felt that Engineering was how to explain “How Stuff Works?”

Perhaps it is the abiding legacy of my Ancient History Teacher that shaped my views on this, for he taught me that the purpose of History was to explain “How Stuff Works?” Whilst those who do not study History are doomed to repeat it, those who do study History are forced to watch. 

Many of our Politicians are graduates in Law or Economics. These disciplines are also, in their areas, concerned with understanding “How Stuff Works?” It was John F Kennedy who is reported to have said that we need not more Politicians, but more Poets. 

When you think about it, just about every endeavour of study, fundamentally in some way, is concerned with “How Stuff Works?”

The 20th Century was a time when more emphasis was placed on Science than the arts; yet, interestingly, this is not reflected in our Politicians, only two of whom hold a degree in Science. 

Of course, the division between Science and Arts is relatively shallow and not ancient. Theology, for a long time, was regarded as “The Queen of the Sciences”. Part of the reason for that is that there has been a shift in the meaning of the word Science. It used to mean the pursuit of knowledge in any sphere; however, in contemporary usage, it refers to a systematic study of the structure and behaviour of the physical and natural world through observation, experimentation, and testing theories against the evidence.

We might reasonably summarise that by saying Science seeks to understand “How Stuff Works”? In the post-Enlightenment period, there has been a tendency to address this search from the starting point of what exists, often called existentialism. Despite the many existentialist theologians, a mindset in society has developed that equates existentialism with atheism, which is simply not true. 

Etymology, the study of origins, is one point where there are difficulties. The Big Bang Theory is a theory, and may indeed be the best answer that science has at the moment. Many people who believe in God, theists, accept the Big Bang Theory, and many Christians do; however, some robustly reject it because there is no Biblical Evidence to support it. 

Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury 1093-1109, argued in his book Cur Deus Homo (Why God Became Man) that Science and Faith/Theology pursued with Integrity will ultimately reach the same conclusion. 

Interestingly, Theology, when looked at honestly, is also in the business of understanding “How Stuff Works?” How God works in and for creation, how God relates to us in word and sacrament, and how we encounter God in the natural world and the community. 

Many in our world want to reject mystery, whilst people of faith want to embrace it. The Eastern Orthodox don’t speak of mystery very much; they prefer the term ineffable - that which cannot be told, the things that have no words. 

Mystery is not just a label to cover the things we can not explain, but rather a recognition that there is more than we can simply describe. There is more to life than meets the eye. St Augustine declared, ‘I found God only to find that he had found me’. Our relationship with God is both life-affirming and centres us. We are not better than those who don’t go to Church, we are not loved more that those who don’t go to Church, however, we are grateful that we are loved. 

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:3-5

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, and therein lies part of the beauty of The Book of Revelation. It is written in picture language for us, and we are given a rich and enchanting invitation to play with and enjoy the symbolism behind the images.

For example, the image of a breathtakingly beautiful bride is something and someone that is so exquisite and spectacular that words fail dismally when they try to capture the sight. You have to see it to believe it, to begin to understand. It's an experience, not a mathematical equation. This is what John is trying to begin to pass on to his readers when he writes

‘I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.’

Within this reading, there is a quirk that is very important to understand, and the quirk is this.

In verse five, we get ‘Behold, I am making all things new’

Even though the passage says that Jesus is making all things new, most often this is misread as Jesus is making all new things. It may just seem like a semantic blunder. The meaning that is carried by each of those two phrases is vastly different.

We believe in a God who takes what is broken, pours his grace out upon it, and transforms it.

We believe in a God who was crucified, was dead, and was buried. But after three days, he rose out of the tomb. The same body that was dead and buried was given new life, and this restored and renewed body still had the scars as proof of the cross.

Our God doesn’t destroy things and replace them with new, different things. Our God takes things that are dead and transforms them into vibrant, living things that give him all the honour and glory and praise. He takes people who have absolutely no hope, embraces them, and rewrites their story for them. He takes the broken vessels and breathes new life into them, making them irreplaceable instruments for the work of the kingdom. Our God doesn’t make all new and different things. He makes all the old things new.

Now, the best example is something I have used before, but it is the best illustration I can think of. There is a tea infusion cup that was given to me by someone special. This cup was and is special because it was a gift. Alas, I broke the handle, and the kind giver person did a clever thing and mended it for me, but they did it in a very special way.

They did it using the Japanese art of Kintsugi, meaning "golden joinery”. This is the practice of repairing broken pottery or ceramics with gold or silver, actually highlighting the cracks and imperfections as a testament to the object's history and beauty. Behind this craft is a philosophy of embracing imperfection and finding strength in the scars of life.

Kintsugi challenges the idea that broken things are useless or ugly. Instead, it celebrates the cracks and flaws as a unique part of an object's story and character.

And I think that another way of explaining Kintsugi is to simply say ‘Behold I am making all things new.’

There is also another really important dynamic going on here.

Would it be a mortal, unforgivable sin if instead of hiding our scars and brokenness in our deepest darkest place, we actually allowed The Master to pour his golden loving grace upon our brokenness and we allowed him to heal us so that the busted unsightly bits of us, actually become our most precious and luscious and celebrated bits. That would have to be a wonderful thing.

One last thing on a personal note. I often reflect that as I place the broken bread into your hands, it is his brokenness meeting and healing your brokenness; and let’s be honest, we are all broken in some way, somewhere, somehow. Remember it is the piercings, the unlovely, brutal bits that The Risen Master shows off to his disciples. His brokenness is healing the brokenness of their fear and joy.

When we might think that we are useless, we should celebrate our cracks and flaws. They are a unique part of our story and character. Embrace the imperfection and find strength in our scars. Behold, I make all things new. Even you… even me.

With thanks to Fr David Oulton for permission to reproduce this story.