The Lutheran JULY 2014

NATIONAL MAGAZINE OF THE LUTHERAN CHURCH OF AUSTRALIA

Print Post Approved PP100003514 VOL 48 NO6

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it [1 Corinthians 12:27]

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JULY 2014

Front cover: Sonya Evans and Anton are absorbed by Messy Fun day activities at St Paul’s Box Hill, Victoria. Photo: Jodi Brook EDITOR/ADVERTISING phone 0427 827 441 email rosie.schefe@lca.org.au

IN TRAINING

SUBSCRIPTIONS phone 08 8360 7270 email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au

Stephanie Hanckel heads for the sunshine of home at St Paul’s, Henty NSW, on the CountryLink (XPT) train after a weekend of heavy rain in Sydney. The Lutheran is her perfect travelling companion for the journey—much more relaxing than The Hobbit.

www.thelutheran.com.au We Love The Lutheran!

As the magazine of the Lutheran Church of Australia (incorporating the Lutheran Church of New Zealand), The Lutheran informs the members of the LCA about the church’s teaching, life, mission and people, helping them to grow in faith and commitment to Jesus Christ. The Lutheran also provides a forum for a range of opinions, which do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editor or the policies of the Lutheran Church of Australia. The Lutheran is a member of the Australasian Religious Press Association and as such subscribes to its journalistic and editorial codes of conduct.

Photo: Bruce Hanckel Send us a photograph featuring a recent copy of The Lutheran and you might see it here on page 2.

We Love The Lutheran!

CONTACTS Editor Rosie Schefe 197 Archer St, North Adelaide SA 5006 phone 0427 827 441 email rosie.schefe@lca.org.au

People like you are salt in your world [ Matt 5:13 ]

Executive Editor Linda Macqueen 3 Orvieto St, Bridgewater SA 5155 phone 08 8339 5178 email linda.macqueen@lca.org.au Design and layout Comissa Fischer Printer Openbook Howden

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Those that are published may be cut or edited. Advertisements are accepted for publication on a date-received basis.

Acceptance of advertisements does not imply endorsement by The Lutheran or the Lutheran Church of Australia of advertiser, product or service.

Copy deadline: 1st of preceding month Rates: general notices and small advertisements, $18.00 per cm; for display, contract and inserted advertisements, contact the editor.

SUBSCRIPTIONS and CHANGES of ADDRESS LCA Subscriptions PO Box 731, North Adelaide SA 5006 phone 08 8360 7270 email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au www.thelutheran.com.au 11 issues per year— Australia $42, New Zealand $44, Asia/Pacific $53, Rest of the World $62

Micah Huth

Susie Papadionisiou

Cherrilyne Schulz

Peace Lutheran Church, Gatton Qld Student Enjoys playing sport and eating Fav text: Micah 6:8

St Paul's Lutheran Kindergarten, St Marys NSW Teacher/centre director Enjoys cooking and bushwalking Fav text: Matthew 19:14

Holy Cross, Murray Bridge SA Retired Enjoys reading and knitting Fav text: Psalm 23

Surprise someone you know with their photo in The Lutheran. Send us a good-quality photo, their name and details (congregation, occupation, what they enjoy doing, favourite text) and your contact details.

Issued every month except in January

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Vol 48 No6 P172

Hope. It’s only a little word, but big in impact.

‘Where there’s life there’s hope’, the world often tells us—even if it doesn’t always believe what it is saying. It seems that having hope is a big part of being human—God has created us to have hope. Hope for a better life, a better future, a way out, a way in. Whatever situation we might find ourselves in, while we live, we find ourselves hoping for something better. For Christians, hope is often the spark of faith (Hebrews 11:1), the entrance through which the Holy Spirit whispers into our lives, pointing us to the Way, the Truth and the Life.

This past month has given me plenty of opportunities to reflect on the nature of hope and what it means in our lives.

As the people of Hope Vale told their stories of the return from Woorabinda, I wasn’t surprised that they had chosen this name for the mission settlement they built. By retelling the story on its anniversary and remembering it each time they pass the memorial at the church fence, they can teach their children the meaning and reward of hope.

Sadly, for Leo Seemanpillai it seems that all hope was lost. His story unfolded from its end on 1 June. Although he came to Australia filled with hope, the pain of his past and the fear of his future were overwhelming. What can we do to restore hope for people like Leo, newcomers to our country?

Our cover verse, 1 Corinthians 12:27, might seem a strange choice to link these stories. But go back one verse and you find this: ‘If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honoured, every part rejoices with it’ (12:26). As the body of Christ we share the pain of the people of St Paul’s Grovedale who grieve over Leo’s death.

But we can also share in the joy of the people of St John’s Hope Vale, Living Waters Wujal Wujal, and the worshipping community at Coen in welcoming their pastor and looking forward to a new future together.

Hope is something that we can share. We can share it to build up the body of Christ and we can share it with those who are not yet part of it. Hope remains one of the few things that we might share with those who have become separated from Christ’s body. We can still hold out hope for those who have lost their hope.

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FEATURES

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05 A return to hope 10 Memories of a friend 22 Cross purposes 24 The stew that grew

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COLUMNS 04 Heartland 09 Reel Life 12 Little Church 13 Inside Story 16 Letters

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17 Directory 18 Stepping Stones 20 Notices 21 Bookmarks

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26 Bring Jesus 28 World in Brief 30 Coffee Break

Last month, a former leader of the South Australian opposition party defected to the Labor government.

It caused a wave of theatrical name-calling, the most prominent accusation being ‘traitor’.

‘Traitor’ is a strong word with a violent history. You can never be sure of your ground with a traitor, no matter how many assurances he or she dishes up to placate you. A traitor is not to be trusted.

Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus’ trusted inner cabinet, is the archetypal biblical traitor. At the critical moment, he betrayed Jesus to men who wanted to kill him.

Infamously, Judas took cash for the job. Did he mean well? Was he trying to force Jesus to show his power and publicly prove he was the Son of God? We have no idea.

We know only that Jesus was to die a criminal’s death, and Judas did his bit to make sure it happened.

Did that have to be the end? Would there have been a way back for Judas? Yes, there certainly would.

He wasn’t the only one. Peter denied that he knew Jesus, three times. Everyone ran away. Jesus died alone, without his friends.

When we continue to gather around Jesus and his word, then we have a good fighting chance of pulling through

Later on, most of them found each other again. Despite their shame and guilt, they still gathered and waited, and Jesus came to them.

Judas, however, chose not to come back. He cut himself off, forever.

We can experience a similar temptation. Anger, hurt, abandonment, guilt, deceit or treachery still conspire to drive us apart. Churches are loving communities, and we expect better, but sadly, division, separation or

schism can still happen for all sorts of reasons. Most of us know former members of our congregations where that has been the case. It might have happened to you. It’s a human thing. Christians fail like everyone else.

Is there a way back? The continuing presence of Jesus among his disciples says, ‘Yes, there is’. Our baptism says, ‘Yes, there is’. The teaching on justification by faith says, ‘Yes, there is’. The very existence of our church as synod says, ‘Yes, there is’. When we continue to gather around Jesus and his word, then we have a good fighting chance of pulling through.

In his day, Judas played his part in putting Jesus on the cross.

Through our sin, we do too. Jesus died because of us; he carried our sin into the grave. The only way back is through his resurrection and ascension, a divine act that overcomes our human failures. God loves us to the end. He loves the world. I pray that, like the disciples who found each other again despite their fear and uncertainty, we will always continue to gather as one for prayer and worship. No matter what we think our problems are, Jesus is greater. That’s our strength. He is right there among us, as he has promised, breathing the life-giving Spirit so we can carry his love into the world.

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Though I scatter them among the peoples, yet in distant lands they will remember me.

They and their children will survive, and they will return [Zechariah 10:9]

Photos Rosie Schefe

A return to hope

by Rosie Schefe Above: One of the youngest in the advance parties, Herb McLean says he didn’t realise what the return meant until he had a family of his own.

It remains one of the most remote of Lutheran parishes in Australia and New Zealand; they don’t call this part of the world ‘Far North’ Queensland for nothing. But Hope Vale's history is rich and unique.

Sunday, 17 May 1942, was one of the worst days in the history of the interaction between the Guugu Yimidhirr people and European Australia. But the people have chosen to remember a different event instead.

On Sunday, 18 May this year, LCA Bishop Rev John Henderson unveiled a memorial outside St John’s Lutheran Church in Hope Vale. It carries the names of 36 men who ‘returned from Woorabinda to help build Hope Vale’ over a six-month period from April to September 1949. This is what they choose to remember.

In 1942 the Cape Bedford Mission (as it was then known) was a very different place than it is today. Established by missionary Johannes Flierl and lay helper Johann Biar in 1886, the mission was led by Rev Georg Schwarz from 1887.

Schwarz was known as Muni (the Guugu Yimidhirr word for ‘black’, as the people couldn’t pronounce his surname).

The people of the mission lived in four small settlements: Elim and Hope Valley Vol 48 No6 P175

on Cape Bedford itself, Wayarego on the McIvor River to the north and Spring Hill, closer to Cooktown. On Sunday, 17 May 1942, the people gathered for worship at Spring Hill.

As worship ended, the church was surrounded by armed soldiers, who forced everyone onto American army trucks and took them to Cooktown.

The people were held at the wharf for 24 hours before being loaded onto a steamship for the trip down the coast to Cairns. At Cairns they were loaded onto a train for the long journey south.

By the time the train reached Townsville, the Lutherans in the north were aware of what was happening. When the train stopped in the station, members from the congregation went there with food and water; this was the first proper meal the people had received since leaving Spring Hill.

The train continued through to Rockhampton in central Queensland and from there the people were trucked again to a mission station at Woorabinda, under the watchful eyes of soldiers with fixed bayonets. They were mostly welcomed by the people there, but were deeply troubled by the cold climate, especially as they had left Spring Hill with virtually nothing beyond the clothes they were wearing.

While the operation was referred to as an ‘evacuation’, the reality was more sinister. Worried by the Japanese advances through Papua New Guinea, the government was alarmed that the people at Cape Bedford were familiar with the Japanese who had dominated the northern pearling industry. It was also worried by potential connections between German missionaries in Papua New Guinea and the Guugu Yimidhirr at Cape Bedford. Ties between Cape Bedford and the Neuendettelsau Mission Society had not survived World War I, and education at the mission had been conducted in Guugu Yimidhirr and English since the beginning of the century, but that didn’t slow the rumour mill. Effectively the people were interned at Woorabinda behind barbed wire.

Muni himself was detained—initially prevented from travelling with the people to Woorabinda, he was interned in Brisbane for four months before being allowed to live with one of his daughters at Eumundi on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. This lasted until 1944. The Guugu Yimidhirr were not so fortunate; sixty people died at Woorabinda during their seven year exile.

In 1948, community leaders, assisted by then Queensland opposition The Lutheran July 2014

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On 9 April 1949, the first seven men reached the Hope Vale site: Willie Wallace, Jack McIvor, Colin Jack, Jack Jerry, Fred Grogan, Jimmy Hart and Ernie McGreen. In the following six months another 29 men followed, readying the site for their wives and children, transporting army surplus buildings, setting up a sawmill for new construction and beginning a new chapter in the story of Hope Vale.

Photos: Rosie Schefe

member Joh Bjelke-Petersen finally negotiated permission for the Cape Bedford people to return home. But it was not to the old outstation way of life.

Instead, the people were required to live in the new settlement of Hope Vale, which did not then even exist. And they had to negotiate their own way back.

Left: Woorabinda returnees (from left) Eddy Deemal, George Rosendale, Herman Bambie, Myrtle Bambie, Francis Woibo, David Deemal, Ella Woibo, Dorothy Rosendale and Daisy Bowen join Bishop of the LCA John Henderson in unveiling a memorial to the men who returned in 1949 to prepare the site for the families who followed.

In their own words Photos: Rosie Schefe

Some of the people of Hope Vale shared their family memories of Woorabinda and the return.

ROY MCIVOR, ARTIST AND ELDER If the Lutheran church didn’t come to us, where would we be? That is the question. If missionary Muni, if he didn’t come. But we are thankful to God and I think that sometimes we can say that we are a chosen race too, you know? God’s chosen people too. That is wonderful.

The military took us away and they thought, oh well, we’ll break their willpower and take them to a strange land where they’ll never come out again ... Woorabinda was a great community.

There were people there who were good at gardening. They had people help out at the big garden, good soil … There was a big school and we had a few disagreements but I had good friends there. A good teacher too. At that time there was a rule that indigenous kids could only go to Grade 4. But the teacher who came there he was going over, taking us further. There were brainy kids there too, you know.

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HERB MCLEAN, COMMUNITY ELDER When we were taken away I was only eight or nine years old. We’d never seen a train, didn’t know how to behave on the train.

We were curious too, rowdy. When the train started to move the old ladies saw the houses moving very slowly and they told us to be quiet, that we were making the houses move!

The first people to return in 1949 had this place (Hope Vale) in their heart and soul. They looked at the future and they believed this was a better place for children to grow up. Hope Vale is a lovely town. So we came back; there were 36 of us. I was only 15 or 16 when we came back. I didn’t realise how important it was to come until I got married myself.

We built everything here—the school, the rodeo ground. We built it for our children, our grandchildren and our great-grandchildren. There are only three [of the advance party] left now: George [Rosendale], David [Deemal] and me.

REV DR GEORGE ROSENDALE, PASTOR AND EDUCATOR God had a reason for bringing us back to Hope Vale; we need to keep that in mind. It is up to us to share the gospel, not to keep it in our pockets but share it with others.

They need it.

Woorabinda was a great place for me; I was happy there. I wanted to go out west, but I didn’t get to do that.

Woorabinda had problems; our parents and elders were very concerned.

A lot of drunkenness and gambling was going on. They wanted to take our kids home.

It’s great to have David [Spanagel] as our pastor, but I felt sad also knowing that none of our own was able to come up and take on the work of sharing the gospel. When I look at other communities along the cape, there are no white ministers; they are all their own people. I had the privilege to be able to train them to do that.

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Photo: Michael Spanagel

The road less travelled by Rosie Schefe ‘Management is about doing things right. Leadership is about doing the right things.’ With this declaration June Pearson, chairperson of St John’s Hope Vale in Far North Queensland, welcomed David Spanagel to St John’s as its pastor.

David’s history with the community goes back more than 30 years and this ceremony of ordination and installation was a reflection of this changing relationship.

David and Pam Spanagel, with their three young children, moved from South Australia’s Barossa Valley to the far northern community early in 1983.

While the former farmer was appointed to the position of manager of Hope Vale Mission, David saw this as a vocation in ministry to the people of these communities. A few years later the Lutheran Church recognised this too, placing him on its roll of lay workers.

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and eventually Kuranda. The Spanagel connection with Hope Vale remained strong. For the next 20 years David was the liaison officer for Far North Queensland Lutheran Mission.

During this time David and Pam regularly travelled to Wujal Wujal (a 600-kilometre round trip) and Coen (a 2000-kilometre round trip) to support ministry in those centres.

In 2011, when the community could not find a pastor, David was invited to fill a pastoral carer’s role, having already been well equipped through his experience in lay ministry.

David and Pam moved to Hope Vale semi-permanently, working their way back into community life slowly, carefully. They took their time to listen and to develop trust-filled relationships again. ‘[God] was equipping us for our work over a lifetime and for most of it we weren’t even fully aware’, David said.

‘He had a plan: God knows the future,

Hope Vale is complex, and it’s all in his hands. I still say God has saved the best till last.’

Hope Vale is complex, and it’s all in his hands. I still say God has saved the best till last David’s ordination and installation expressed this new situation in a unique way. The elders and congregation, who had, after three years, called David to be their pastor, dressed him in the surplice and stole that symbolise his being ‘set apart’ for ordained ministry, as Christ’s representative within the community. He will serve St John’s, Living Waters Wujal Wujal, and Coen.

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Rosie Schefe joined members of David’s extended family, Bishop of the LCA Rev John Henderson, Bishop of Queensland Rev Noel Noack, Queensland Director for Mission Rev John O’Keefe and Queensland Church Council member Michael Stolz for the celebrations at Hope Vale. Rev Vaughn Spring—David’s closest Lutheran neighbour in ministry— and his family also made the five-hour road trip from Cairns to Hope Vale.

Photos: Rosie Schefe

No longer the manager. Now a spiritual leader within the community. The person tasked with doing the right things. David and the Hope Vale parish ask all of us to join them in prayer as they step into the future together as pastor and people.

The Spanagel family renew their ties with the Hope Vale community; when David and Pam first arrived, their children (from left) Michael, Suzie and Paul (right) were all still very young

Smoke and water

by Rosie Schefe

A small fire of melaleuca bark is set beside the river.

Just around the bend are the Bloomfield Falls, still swollen with rain that has been falling since Cyclone Ita flooded the Bloomfield River weeks ago.

The Kuku Yalanji people of Wujal Wujal call the waterfall ‘Living Waters’ and it holds age-old significance. Only the traditional owners and their invited guests approach it.

This smoking ceremony has been arranged to welcome David and Pam Spanagel into closer relationship with the members of Living Waters, Wujal Wujal. In the case of Pastor David it raises him to the cultural status of ‘Father’ or ‘Maja’ of the Kuku Yalanji people living in Wujal Wujal. It is a position of honour and special respect. Now that David is ordained and called as their pastor, they want him to have a special place in their community. Not everyone who is welcomed this way receives such status. This ceremony is also Pam’s acceptance into the Kuku Yalanji family.

Sap from the grasstree and freshly cut bloodwood leaves are added to the fire, rapidly producing clouds of thick white smoke with a sharply clean scent. Traditional owner Francis Walker tells everyone how the fire represents the traditional resources of building materials, shelter, warmth and medicine.

First Pam and then David are encouraged to step forward into the thick of the smoke. Kathleen Walker wafts smoke over them with her hands, ensuring that it completely envelopes them, permeating clothes and hair. As they step back from the fire, the last wisps gently float away on the afternoon breeze.

Everyone moves toward the edge of the river, where a small amount of water is poured onto their heads as a final blessing from the river. Pam and David are then welcomed into the family with long hugs before we return to Living Waters for the formal installation and worship with holy communion.

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Doreen Doughboy (one of the traditional owners) keeps a close eye on the fire as David Spanagel is welcomed as God’s representative to the Wujal Wujal community in a smoking ceremony.

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A walk in the shoes of the saviour Calvary is a timely film for a world enraged and enraptured by the wave of scandals that have engulfed the church. This film puts a strong case for the majority of Christians caught up in these failings, without ever resorting to pleading.

Calvary’s story centres on Father James Lavelle, the down-to-earth pastor of an Irish village in County Sligo. Brendan Gleeson provides a pitch-perfect performance as a man who comes late to the collar after the death of his wife. His mix of humour, faith and blunt wisdom is the right medicine for a community pockmarked by the saddest of small-town sins. But Father Lavelle’s time in the confessional is interrupted one morning by a confronting admission.

An unknown figure tells James how he was repeatedly raped as a seven-yearold boy by a now-dead priest. But he is not looking for help or justice, just the chance to shake the world and the church out of their lassitude: Confessor: I’m going to kill you Father.

I’m going to kill you because you’re innocent. I’m going to kill you because you’ve done nothing wrong. Not right now though. I’ll give you time to get your house in order. Sunday week?

Meet me down on the beach. You’ve nothing to say to me, Father?

to tend the needs of his flock. They’re a sad bunch of adulterers, atheists, wife beaters and hedonists—even an imprisoned serial killer—who don’t see themselves in need of salvation. But Gleeson presents us with a hardheaded curate of souls who won’t stand for woolly thinking, nor the idea that anyone is beyond redemption.

Of course, as the audience, we’re completely unaware of which of those messed-up characters plans to meet the good father at the end of the week.

But what does become clear is the way that Father Lavelle’s life parallels his Lord’s. During those seven days he faces challenging questions from his daughter Fiona and is mocked by the worldly-wise. As his days run out he is abandoned by a fellow priest and experiences a dark night of the soul that may cost him his faith. What follows are moments of intense loss and a savage beating which culminate in the lonely walk to the site of his execution. How his passion week finishes is well worth the price of admission, as is the picture Calvary gives of a real man of faith.

Lavelle: I’m sure I’ll think of something

by Sunday week.

It’s not the crimes of the child molester on trial here, nor the multitude of other failings that can be laid at the church’s door. In reality it’s whether Jesus and his teachings have any relevance to this modern world. Can Father Lavelle trust them to his dying day?

Calvary is full of darkly comic moments like that, but its content and the earthy language of the villagers is very mature.

But none of this obscures the film’s real purpose. Knowing that he is going to die, can a representative of the church actually walk the path Jesus has mapped out for him? So Father Lavelle counts off the seven days by continuing

Calvary is a film about the need for faith to shape our lives if it is to be of any value at all. It also sensitively underlines our own failures to find happiness apart from God. If it has a weakness, it’s that Father Lavelle tends to edge Jesus out of the picture. But at least it stands firmly for a faith in God that continues to weather every storm the world can hurl.

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CALVARY Rating: M Distributor: Transmission Films Release date: July 2014

Comments on contemporary culture

by Mark Hadley The Lutheran July 2014

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