Trinity College Newsletter, vol 1 no 38, February 1989

Bishop Peter Hollingworth emerges from the 1988 Festival of Lessons and Carols and is hailed by the Warden. Those near the door are (L. to R.) Dr Richard McKinney (Director of the Trinity Theological School), the Reverend Ron Browning (newly appointed College Chaplain), Bishop Hollingworth, Mr Frank Henagan (verger), Dr John Wright (Woods Lecturer in Theology), Canon Russell Clark, and the Warden. The Director of the Choir, Mr Bruce Macrae, is the fourth person from the left.

INTERNATIONALLY DISTINGUISHED DIRECTOR OF MUSIC ARRIVES IN JULY 1989 The Trinity College Choir, originally established at a very high level by Professor Peter Dennison and directed for the last four years

by Bruce Macrae, is set to achieve national, and even international, recognition in the coming years. Professor Peter Godfrey, currently Director of Music at Wellington Cathedral, New Zealand, will direct the choir from next July, and also help to stimulate all aspects of music in Trinity.

Peter Godfrey began his musical career as a chorister in King's College, Cambridge. His influence on choral music in New Zealand has been immense. For much of his time there he was Professor of Music in Auckland and Director of the Auckland Cathedral Choir. He has taken several choirs on a number of international tours and in 1978 was chosen to be the Acting Director of Music at King's College, Cambridge. He is therefore amply qualified to work within the collegiate and academic tradition, and indeed was recommended to us by Sir David Willcocks, a former Director of Music at King's.

Bruce Macrae, the current Director of the Choir, has rendered the College and its Choir sterling service. He looks forward to continuing to work with such a distinguished musician as Peter Godfrey. Under Bruce Macrae's musical direction, the Annual Festival of Lessons and Carols has grown in popularity each year, to the point where an invitation to attend it has become prized and numbers have to be severely limited. Each year there is a good balance between new works and old, between the choir's skilful singing and hearty congregational participation.

Once again, in December 1988, we were honoured to have Their Excellencies, the Governor-General, Sir Ninian Stephen, and Lady Stephen as our guests. Both read lessons. After their coming retirement from "Yarralumla", they still look forward to

beginning their Christmas celebration at the Trinity Carol Service. Will we need to have two services - an Advent Carol Service, perhaps, as well as the Christmas Service - in order to accommodate everyone who wishes to come? The Chapel can hold only 300.

The College is greatly indebted to its resident music tutor, Mr Philip Nunn, who has worked tirelessly for the Choir and also been our organist for the past year. His playing at the Carol Service was much admired, but not acknowledged in the printed Order of Service. That is because he generously relieved pressure on the office staff by typing it himself.

An enthusiastic committee of the Trinity College Foundation, chaired by Mr William D. T. Cowan, has undertaken responsibility for seeing that a Choral Foundation is established in Trinity on a secure artistic and financial base, and that the Chapel is provided with a worthy new organ. The present organ has worn out beyond the point where extensive repair is economically or musically justifiable. Although it can sound fine in skilled hands it is something of a nightmare to play. It is also better for grand effects than for musical painting in delicate shades. The Committee believes that Professor Godfrey's arrival will stimulate public support for both the organ and the Choral Foundation.

A PUBLICATION OF TRINITY COLLEGE WITHIN THE UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE Registered by Australia Post — Publication No. VBG 4336.

His Excellency, Sir Ninian Stephen, reads the seventh lesson, while Mr Frank Henegan looks on.

After the service, the Warden, Dr. Evan L. Burge Dr Robin Sharwood and Dr John Davis with Sir Ninian and Lady Stephen.

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ARCHDEACON FOR BEQUEST OFFICER In November 1988, the Trinity College Foundation was delighted to appoint as its part-time Bequest Officer Archdeacon Stan Moss, a Trinity man well-known and respected both within the College family and outside it.

Stan Moss went up to Trinity in 1946, the major influx year of ex-servicemen demobbed after World War Two. He found it a most congenial place. Was that merely in contrast to his previous four years overseas service with the RAAF, over half of which were spent behind the wire cages of a German POW camp? No, not really. Trinity to him, as it probably is to most, was a stimulating experience where friendships were born, more of life and self discovered purposeful attainment striven for and all within the College community life, punctuated with its own traditions of fun and dignity.

After ordination Stan Moss served in a variety of parishes inner city, country, outer suburban and inner suburban. He was awarded a Lady Rosa Turner fellowship from the College in the early sixties to further his studies in Theology at Oxford. Over a period of fifteen years he was a College tutor in Old Testament, and there was a time when, as Archdeacon of Melbourne, he was an ex-officio member of the College Council. One other Trinity association was his marriage to Betty in the Horsfall Chapel and their two sons later became Trinity students.

So there are lots of links which drew him back to the "dear old Coll", after he had concluded a ten year stint as vicar of St John's Toorak in April 1988. As part-time Bequest Officer with the Trinity College Foundation, Stan will be working to expand the Bequest Programme amongst Trinity members. He may be reached at home on 211-2829 or at the office on 347-1044 and will make himself readily available to anyone who wishes to talk about the Trinity concern nearest his heart, or any other topic for that matter.

Archdeacon Stan Moss

APPOINTMENT OF QUEEN'S COUNSEL The College congratulates the following Trinity member who has been appointed to be Her Majesty's Counsel for the State of Victoria: Ross Campbell Macaw ('65)

UNION OF THE FLEUR-DE -LYS

ANNUAL DINNER

WE WERE WRONG

FRIDAY, 14th APRIL, 1989

In the last edition of the Newsletter (No. 37) the name of a Trinity man was wrongly included amongst those who had died. This mistake was due to incorrect information being passed on to the College.

COLLEGE DINING HALL

We apologise to: Rodney Stephen Hart (1929)

INVITATION ENCLOSED

and his family, and are very sorry for any distress this mistake may have caused.

WITH THIS NEWSLETTER

We are pleased to be able to say that Mr Hart is very much alive and well.

3

FLORENTINE DIPTYCH by the Warden A Visit to Florence from Assisi from Two Points of View Perhaps, however, there would be time for coffee and even a bun before the bus left. The aroma was certainly delicious, but the bus arrived before the order was out of my mouth.

Dr John Davis ('75), now our Stewart Lecturer in Theology, and Archdeacon Don McMonigle ('75), now Archdeacon of Albury, have made many pilgrimages to Assisi. How I wish all our students could have the same experience in their spiritual formation! In August 1988, the Director of the Trinity Theological School, Dr Dick McKinney, and I were privileged to join them there for a week, and to drink in the Franciscan pax et bonum, "peace and well-being", which permeates the ancient stones of this beautiful Umbrian hill-top town.

Twelve minutes in the square of Perugia was enough for the driver to eat and drink well — very fortunate considering the rigours of the roads ahead — but the bus door was locked behind him and the passengers were left to dream of rolls and coffee. It was another two hours before we were released into the square before the station in Florence. Don and I staggered into the nearest coffee shop, while John heroically helped Dick a few more hundred yards to the Left Luggage section of the station. How quickly one cup of cappuccino and two pastries can disappear. By the time Dick and John found us, we could only watch as they enjoyed theirs.

Still we were in Florence — home of the Palazzo Vecchio and the Uffizzi, of Michelangelo's Moses and David. A pity that the temperature was destined to reach 38 degrees celsius — a century in the old scale — and that Moses and David were nowhere to be found. Perhaps the heat was too much for them and their guardians had moved them to cooler quarters. Nor was there time to see the Fra Angelico paintings in San Marco and revive the spirit with their serene clarity. But at least there was the great piazza, safely reached through the throngs of the morning market with one hand on the camera and the other on one's money — for, we are told, in all Italian cities there are people who dash away with foreigners' valuables before their owners have realized they have gone.

John Davis, Brigid, and Don McMonigle in the main Piazza in Assisi.

And so to the glories of the main square — at least one third of which has become an archaeological excavation, fenced off and incomprehensible. Work has stopped because the vital permesso has still not arrived from Rome as paper is passed, or not passed, from one Ministero to another — Finance, Town Planning, Conservation, Archaeology, Education — they all want their say and meanwhile the Square remains a bomb site.

The week proved a joyous experience for us all — combining sight-seeing, the pleasure of eating each night in Italian family trattorie; sipping granita, cappuccino, or gelato in the Piazza Communale; choosing which of the many delectable handcrafted items on sale we could afford to buy and manage to carry home; climbing down and especially up the narrow winding hilly streets; joining with crowds of pilgrims — many of them young people radiating faith and hope — in Mass or Vespers at San Damiano, or Santa Chiara, or San Francesco; and still having time for siesta, reading and prayer — total recreation for body, mind and spirit. We were aided considerably by the cheerful atmosphere of the irrepressible American Sisters who run "St Anthony's Guest House'; where we stayed.

What a relief to gaze at noble art in the shade of the Uffizzi. We did not expect a line of about 500 perspiring art lovers to be ahead of us, but the 20 minutes of waiting passed quickly enough and we were ready to enjoy the paintings in a more relaxed frame of mind. But no! Between the ticket box and the entrance are six long flights of stairs. On a cooler day, and twenty years younger, I could have simply flown up them, but these days one must work for cultural pleasure. You would be surprised at how much heat — I do not mention the odour — thousands of perspiring art lovers can generate in closed galleries. And how can one cope with so many pictures, and so many on similar themes? John was the first to say that he simply must get outside. Don followed him closely. Dick and I persevered with the late Italian Renaissance and even a few Flemish masters before we admitted defeat.

On Dick McKinney's last day in Italy, the rest of us took the morning bus with him to Florence and returned in the evening, while he caught the night train to Munich. "What a marvellous day it's been!" sighed John Davis contentedly. Mischievously, I pointed out that you could look at things another way if you chose.

The next day I wrote two contrasting accounts of our day in Florence. Both accounts are accurate, but the facts are not necessarily the truth. So much depends on one's attitude.

Perhaps the delightful and wise Brigid from Belfast, a fellow pilgrim seeking a vision, peace away from the stresses and sorrows of Northern Ireland, should have the last word: "You do need cheerful patience if you really want to enjoy travelling, don't you think, Evan?"

"You must see the Duomo before you go," said Don eagerly.

"I'd perfer a toilet," said I. "It's been a long time since 10 to 6."

Toilets in the Uffizzi? Not for the milling hordes. "Nel Palazzo Vecchio," helpfully suggested one of the would-be artists catering for the narcissistic sensibilities of visiting Americans in the hot and narrow street outside. The entrance to the Palazzo was on the far-side of the archaeological dig — nothing as the pigeons fly, but a long way in the midday sun with not a hint of shade. And in how many countries would you have to pay 300 lire just to stand at a urinal, and receive not even one square of toilet paper?

There are two places in the hilly town of Assisi where buses leave for distant places — the Piazza Mateotti about 200 metres from our guest house and the Piazza San Pietro about 2 kms at the furthest corner of town. The bus for Florence left from San Pietro at 10 to 7 in the morning, a full hour and ten minutes before breakfast and Dick had a heavy suitcase of clothes and books. It is not easy to be cheerful when awakened at 10 to 6, but in less than half an hour we were ready — still tired, decidedly hungry and not a little thirsty. Dick was lucky to have three others to share carrying the case, which none of us would have considered carrying so far if it had been our own.

That felt better, but a certain feeling of exhaustion and dizziness was taking over. "Are you all right?" asked Dick. "Of course," I lied. His face matched his red hair and he didn't look so hot either, he was so hot. A cafeteria spread its welcoming arms. The tables outside were in the shade. Alas, they were all occupied — every one of them. So we reluctantly sat inside, queued up for the food, and devoured it as much from necessity as anything else. You could get cold water — at 2000 lire a small bottle. Sometimes there is no choice.

4

What more? Well, the Baptistery was packed with gawking tourists. And what is one to say of the Cathedral where the mighty altar candles come on at the flick of an electric switch.

"Moses was here," said Don, and went off for an anxious and fruitless search for Michelangelo's masterpiece. "And there was a Pieta that I like better than the one in Rome," he continued with the air of a fisherman telling a newcomer how well they were biting yesterday. Whether they'd gone for restoration, or to a museum, or back to Mt Sinai or Jerusalem I don't remember. It was hard to care.

What a run through the city! No time to buy postcards of things I'd not seen, or even of what I had seen. At least we didn't have to carry suitcases. But we did make it. Arrivedercí to Dick who was now on his own. "I'll just stop and get some quiet before hopping on the train", he said. And we were off — three more hours without food, drink or toilet facilities, and into St Peter's Square — not Rome, but Assisi. And what a long slog uphill! We could hardly set one foot before another.

"If you'll excuse me," said Brigid of Belfast, who had accompanied us to Florence and back, "I think I'll skip dinner tonight' She looked very tired. The rest of us jumped into the shower, and somewhat restored managed the 50 metres downhill to the nearest Tavola Calda. It was still hot. "Can we sit near the window?' I asked. "What's wrong with near the door?" was the reply — an interrogative doing duty for an imperative.

The menu turistico in this place is excellent, but how could we cope with a first course that offered a choice of only pasta or pasta? So into the more lavish, and more expensive, reaches of the menu intended only for the rich — or the weary.

We did manage to get back to our guest house and sat up drinking and talking till nearly midnight. Drinking? That sounds all right. But suppose I tell you that all we had was water?

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II The days in Assisi in August can be rather hot and in Florence even hotter. The best times are the early morning and the evening when the sun is gentle and there is a cooling breeze.

We were fortunate that the bus for Florence left Assisi at 10 to 7 in the cool of the morning and that the road to the bus stop in the Piazza San Pietro was downhill all the way. Even having to carry Dick's suitcase was not a burden with four to share the load — 30 to 40 metres at a time. "Many hands make light work," I said — and meant it.

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The facade of the Franciscan Church of Santa Croce — Don, followed by John, Dick and Brigid.

We were in good time for the bus, and found to our joy Brigid from Belfast waiting to accompany us. She was perhaps a little shy, but her Irish instinct rightly assured her that she would be welcome. A pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled. The bus, in air-conditioned comfort, took us to Perugia of University fame and down along the shores of Lake Trasimeno, site of a famous ancient battle when Rome was saved from the threat of Hannibal and the elder Cato declared that Carthage must be destroyed. By nine we were in Florence enjoying coffee and pastries and full of excitement for the day ahead.

Coming from Assisi, we had to see the Franciscan Church of Santa Croce. Of course it was shut when we arrived. They did, I admit, open it before we left so that we could admire the Giotto frescos that become illuminated for a minute at a time if you keep inserting the appropriate coins. It does rather break the contemplation.

Instead of attempting in vain to see, I decided to be seen. I sat before a street artist and a large crowd gathered. "A smile would improve things," I thought, and smiled at the most charming girl in the audience. "Piu basso, piu a destra," commanded the artist. You don't look where you want to, you look where he tells you to. My eye fastened for a while on a hole in the wall until it was blocked by the hairy knee of one of the bystanders.

Some artists can get it all over in a few minutes. This one took it seriously. An hour and ten minutes, and don't move. "Look relaxed" called my companions," and remember, we catch the bus in a few minutes!"

Stalls of wonderful leatherwork in the street market in Florence.

The way to the more famous sights led through the street market. There were stalls of wonderful leatherwork and numerous ties and scarves in silk. It was too much to resist — and the prices were wonderfully low. Don bought a superb silk cravat for 16,000 lire and my two silk ties were 10,000 each.

Our only question was whether we should have seized the opportunity and bought even more.

Should we begin with the Duomo or the Uffizzi? The Uffizzi, we decided, as a church would be less likely to close in the early afternoon. The grandeur of the place unfolded itself from the majestic ascent of the grand staircase. How fine an early fourteenth century altarpiece with its simple, expressive lines

How can I keep still and still look relaxed while my portrait is being done?

5

cents in the slot they could be brightly illuminated for closer inspection, and — with a little luck — photography.

and gilt frame, its colours as bright and fresh as if it were painted yesterday would look behind the high altar of the Trinity Chapel. And then a room of Botticelli masterpieces — the birth of Venus and the Primavera, together with too many scenes of the Annunciation and the Madonna and child to remember.

One of the most beautiful was by Leonardo da Vinci, but all conveyed gentleness, wonderment, and acceptance of the divine will.

We had agreed that we would not attempt too much — the day was hot and masterpieces demand a concentration and elevation of the spirit that cannot be squandered on hundreds of different works. A banquet is best left graciously when one has taken sufficient, and after an hour or so we were truly satisfied. Downstairs in the street, artists of varying capacity were making portraits of the tourists — a quick caricature for 10,000 lire. Our eye was caught by one man who took infinite care with line and shading. He was drawing the face of a beautiful but restless fair haired boy of four or five and his work was a small masterpiece. I felt moved to book myself in for 3.30 p.m. when I found the price for over an hour's work was less than $50. Could he do as fine a work for me as for that much more beautiful little boy?

The heat and travelling, to say nothing of the concentration on great art, meant that our bodies needed reviving. Happily we found the perfect place — a cafeteria where the prices were low but the food worthy of a restaurant. Moreover, there were ceiling fans — surprisingly common in Italy. The excellent food, including a superb apple tart and bottles of icy mineral water made us ready to enjoy the afternoon.

Next the Duomo — but the Baptistery with its magnificently proportioned space and well-lit miraculous mosaics came first.

To enter is to have one's breath taken away. Perhaps the Cathedral is slightly less impressive, but not without its rewards.

For me one of the greatest was a small monument to Marsilio Ficino, founder of the Florentine Academy, and the major source of the noble Platonic stream that has flowed through European Literature, Philosophy and Theology from the late fifteenth century to our own day. We were in Florence, source of so much beauty and inspiration.

Next, la Chiesa della Santa Croce. Winding along narrow lanes we suddenly emerged in a square before a truly inspiring facade. But the joyful surprise of that view was eclipsed by the wondrous space within. Coming from Assisi we were expectant for places in the Franciscan tradition, and this was the oldest Franciscan Basilica in Italy. Like the one in Assisi this too had fine frescos by Giotto. Moreover, by the simple device of a few

My appointment with the street artist was at 3.30 p.m. — just ten minutes away — leaving just a few precious seconds to wash my face and comb my hair in the Palazzo Vecchio. At exactly the agreed time I came and took my seat. A considerable crowd gathered. Most of them went after five minutes or so but there was sufficient variety of people coming and going to ensure that I was not bored. What is more, many of them indicated approval of the unseen portrait as it progressed, so my spirits rose higher and higher. When my friends arrived they were loud in their praises of the emerging picture — "It makes you look so much younger!" they said. It reminded me of the Jewish mother who beamed when her two-year old son was praised for being so handsome. "Yes," she said, "but wait till you see his photograph."

The artist spared no pains to get the shading and moulding of the face right. My friends had arrived at the right moment. Don recorded the evocative moment on film, and my face broke into a smile which the artist recorded for posterity. "Perhaps Barbara will like this one," I thought, because two other artists have "not quite managed to get the mouth right". "Cinque minuti" said Don to the artist. "Finito!" said he, sprayed it with a fixer and rolled it up. We sped on our way with just enough time to catch our bus if we hurried. Dick wished us God-speed as we bade him arrivederci at the bus stop. He had had a wonderful time with his colleagues in Assisi and Florence — an aesthetic, social and spiritual experience shared — a joyful foundation for our work ahead.

The trip home to Assisi was even more rapid than the trip over.

It seemed almost no time before Monte Subasio's tonsured head appeared on the horizon. Perhaps the driver wanted to be home with his wife and children, or at least his dinner. He was quick, but careful. We were soon walking slowly up the hill for a cold bath and our own excellent dinner at a genuine family restaurant. Brigid decided she was more than content with the full day's offering, and that a good sleep was preferable to a meal.

Late that night, Don, John and I sat up talking over our wonderful day. The lights twinkled on the plain far below. The towers of Santa Maria Maggiore and the town hall spread their peacefully welcoming light along the hillside. We slowly sipped our cups of cool mineral water and thought of St Francis: Praise be to God, for our sister water; she is useful and clean and pure.

Prayer of dedication of the cushions in memory of Helen Brown We praise you, heavenly Father, for your gifts of colour, beauty and human skill; for the joy of sharing your gifts; and for all labours of love. We thank you for the pleasure of beautiful design, the skill of hand and eye, and fine needlework. And especially we remember before you with loving gratitude the life and service of Helen Brown - her modest and gentle humanity; her caring and warm concern for all with whom she came in touch; her readiness to share in their joys and sorrows; her humour and ever-youthful spirit; her devotion to her family and family traditions; her love for her husband Val, their four children and ten grandchildren; her professional skill as a librarian at Flemington High School and in this College; the depth and sincerity of her Christian faith. To her cherished memory, and to your glory, O God, our loving Father, we now dedicate these cushions for the adornment of the Leeper Library. May they remind us continually of Helen and the fruit of your good Spirit in her life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom with you and the Holy Spirit be all honour and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

Trinity College Chapel

Some members of Helen Brown's family photographed in the Leeper Library in front of the set of cushions dedicated in her memory.

In the foreground from left to right: Dr Graham Brown, Mrs Anita Robson and Mrs Helen Poppins, three of Helen Brown's children, and Mrs Eirene Clark, Helen's sister and Leeper Librarian.

Those who embroidered the cushions include Mrs Win Saunders in the background of the photograph, and Mrs Eirene Clark, Mrs Gillian Forwood, Mrs Joan Hancock, Mrs Mavis Harper, Mrs Hope Ingamells, Mrs Clare Jardine, Miss Susan Johnston, Mrs Myrna Peel, and Mrs Morna Sturrock.

16 October 1988 6

VALEDICTORY SERVICE -15 OCTOBER 1988 ADDRESS BY THE WARDEN, DR EVAN L. BURGE, IN MEMORY OF HELEN BROWN muscle but of the mind and spirit. Nan-Chien believes the same is true of playing the piano at the highest level. The Zen perspective is very like the Christian one: you can't hit the mark by trying to do it. That is something that has to be given to you.

The joy of doing it - of hitting the mark, of kicking the winning goal, of playing Beethoven so that the inner spiritual depths are shared with the audience - these things are like the joy of receiving a wonderful and unexpected present. St Paul calls this God's grace or mercy - and he urges his readers to respond to it by surrendering themselves body, mind and spirit, to God's generous love.

The Christian faith always begins, not with us - our theories, likes and dislikes - but with God and God's love, to which our part is to respond. Only by an act of surrendering to the free gift of God's love is the Christian life possible. And this life is marked by a whole change of outlook - the renewing of the mind, which brings new understanding and a new way of living: Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God - what is good, and acceptable, and perfect.

The chapter goes on with many things that seem to me important for individual lives, for a College, for our community, as well as for the Church. The picture is an attractive one. May I remind you of some of the things we heard: not to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to think to cultivate the many different gifts in the community for the good of all to have genuine love to be generous to others in need and to be hospitable not to retaliate or seek revenge, knowing that that is God's business and not ours to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep to live in harmony with one another always to overcome evil with good.

Helen Brown Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good, and acceptable, and perfect. (Romans 12:2) The twelfth chapter of St Paul's Letter to the Romans is one of the great chapters of the Bible - even if it does contain that difficult expression about heaping burning coals on your enemy's head. At all events, the practical message is clear: we are to feed even our enemies when they are hungry, give them drink when they are thirsty, and in all ways to overcome evil not by multiplying evil but by doing good. In Church this sounds like conventional preachers' wisdom. In practice it is far harder, and may even lead to the early death of those like Jesus, Gandhi, Archbishop Lawum, and many who, at the present time in places like South Africa, Northern Ireland, and Israel, have committed themselves to taking seriously the radical teaching of Jesus and Paul.

True Christianity is not conventional and it is incredibly challenging and difficult. It is not only difficult, it is impossible.

It is impossible, because our best efforts are invariably tainted, and the harder we try the more we fail. A more popular address for a Valedictory Service would say the opposite: if you really make an effort you will succeed in life. I don't expect to persuade everyone in five minutes what the far more subtle Christian position is, but I would like to try to give some insight into what I think the Christian position is. Of course, I can't be sure that I've got it right - to work through the implications of this chapter alone is the work of a lifetime.

It is easier for us to understand these things when we experience them in human lives. We have seen many examples of practical love and care in this College. I have been exhilarated and moved by the openness, trust and willingness to share time and gifts cheerfully, which we have all known here in this past year. Without such qualities we could not experience the Art Show, the honesty of Brother Phillip's forum on religion in our lives, the singing of this choir, the dedication and generous spirit which made A Midsummer Night's Dream and Cabaret possible, the sustained efforts of our sporting teams, the lively programmes of the Music and Dialectic Societies. Without such spiritual qualities, we cannot have a fulfilling community or true friendship, which is what most people value in College life above all else.

Today we particularly honour Helen Brown, Assistant Librarian in this College until her death in 1986. I am struck by how fully she exemplified the qualities - let me say, the spiritual gifts that are mentioned in this 12th chapter from St Paul's Letter to the Romans. I knew her only in the last decade of her life, and I think of how so many staff and students sought her out to confide in her: she could indeed rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. Her love was utterly genuine and sincere. And as a devoted teacher and later a librarian she loved to foster the gifts in others. Her association with Flemington High gave her special satisfaction, for there she saw how children who might otherwise be seriously disadvantaged could, with loving encouragement, rise to heights sometimes not attained by those from more prosperous or socially distinguished backgrounds.

Part of my understanding is this - when we do something that really comes out right, the experience is not that we have done something but that something wonderful has been given to us.

Two examples from last week: On Monday, my secretary Susan and her husband Mike Moro came back from a week's holiday. Mike plays in a football team, for Werribee I think, and the premiership match was during their break. Unlike Trinity so far, they won - by just one point on the final siren. Mike Moro kicked the winning goal. He told me that the feeling of joy and elation of doing such a thing is just out of this world. From the way he spoke, I know that he feels that somehow something terrific was given to him - the ball reaching him at the right time and place, somehow kicking it, and then the thrill of seeing it soar between the two tall posts - "I don't know how, but it just went right". Something was given, and his part was to respond.

On Wednesday night, Tsou Nan-Chien gave us a memorable piano recital in the Hall. She stayed by herself in my study during the interval, and I found her reading a book called Zen in the Art of Archery. The summary on the back cover explained that in Japan, Archery is seen not so much as a sport but as a spiritual discipline - a training not only of hand and eye and

In all her life she showed that humility - not thinking of oneself more highly than one ought but honouring the gifts in others is not incompatible with leadership. Indeed humility is the true precondition for leadership. Apart from Jesus, the Biblical exemplar of true humility is Moses, one of the greatest leaders in human history. When I knew Helen she was elderly and rather frail. I was told that in her youth she was renowned for 7

Helen and Val had four children - Aileen, a social worker now in Port Moresby; Graham and Helen, both doctors; and Annita, a dentist. From their parents they have learned the great Jewish and Christian lesson about the importance of loving one's neighbour. All have shown a special interest in the peoples of the Third World; not only what we can offer them but the many things they can offer us.

her beauty, and I always believed it, for her face was always truly beautiful, with a radiance that came from within.

As an Arts student Helen was a non-resident student in Ormond - residence there was not open to women until 1974 and she was always proud of her membership of that College.

After her death, from Jean Waller's fine tribute in our Fleur-deLys magazine for 1986, I learned that Helen was also a University Blue in Tennis and President of the SRC.

I am thrilled and grateful that our Library will now be adorned in the window seat of Room 2, the original College Chapel, with these magnificently embroidered cushions. May they remind us of Helen and equally of the great Christian qualities that endeared her and Val to so many of us.

Her husband Val was a University Blue in cricket and they first met at a Blues Dinner. I knew Val long before I met Helen, because of his work for the Student Christian Movement. That Movement had an incredibly stimulating and lasting effect upon many of us. He was also esteemed for his contribution to the World Council of Churches and the Anglican General Board of Religious Education.

I am also thrilled that so many of our Valedicting students have come to the Chapel today. Some of you, I hope, will come back here to be married, or to have your children baptised. May you go on to live happy, generous and contributing lives - and perhaps reflect, as I so often have cause to do, that when you meet beautiful, caring, generous, and humble people like Helen Brown, in them you have met the Spirit of the living and loving God. Amen.

A descendant of the Henty family, Helen valued family as well as friends. Her sister, Eirene Clark, now the Leeper Librarian, tells me that along with a live sense of family tradition, Helen had a keen sense of history, and for many years kept a diary about her large family called "Six of a kind by one of them".

NEWS OF TRINITY MEMBERS Catherine MILNE ('80) works in Bangkok with the International Development Programme of Australian Universities and Colleges. The Warden hoped to call on her in January.

Frank MILNE ('53) moved recently from Dublin to Belgrade as Australian Ambassador. He was looking forward to a quiet town, when the Yugoslavian Consulate in Sydney was abruptly closed and the authorities in Belgrade decided to retaliate by sending away some key,members of the Australian Embassy staff. We all hope that he and Pat continue in a less exciting way and will find time to enjoy the cultural and natural delights of Yugoslavia and the surrounding countries.

Vicky WATTS ('80) and her husband Richard have been living in North Carlton since August after 18 months in the U.K. While there they enjoyed a holiday in France with Jim ABBOTT ('78) and his wife Georgie WEBB ('77) who are now in Hull. Vicky is now tutoring in the Architecture Faculty at the University of Melbourne, but has also begun her own consultancy practice in Cost Planning and Quantity Surveying. Her husband is a doctor at Larundel Psychiatric Hospital.

Peter SIEDE ('68) works with IPA, a personnel consulting firm, when he isn't at home with his wife Vivien and their three children.

Deborah HOLLINGWORTH ('81) is putting her legal training to enlightened use by working for the Coburg Legal Aid service which she finds highly stimulating.

John BEAVERSTOCK ('76) is continuing a distinguished musical career at Guildford Grammar School in Perth. Recently he was awarded to A.Mus.A. diploma, to add to the F.T.C.L. and A.R.C.O. he had gained previously, after the B.A.(Hons) and Dip.Ed. from his Trinity days. Congratulations!

Timothy LINDSEY ('82) was married to Mary O'Brien on 10th December at a colourful service conducted by the Warden assisted by Jeffery SHEATHER ('82), followed by a reception in a large marquee behind the Victorian Arts Centre, with a large group of Trinity friends in evidence.

Bryan DESCHAMP ('76), former Dean, was visited by the Warden in Geneva in August, where the two spent a happy night reliving Trinity life of five years ago, with help from a Fleur-de-Lys Magazine. Bryan will shortly change his position from Regional Director of the Australian Immigration Department to a post with the International Refugee Organization.

Nicholas BRASH ('83) is living at Selby, abutting the Sherbrooke Forest in the Dandenongs, and running a thriving "boutique" law practice specializing in "employee share ownerships': At the end of the year he was married to Leanne Radbone. They met as Best Man and Bridesmaid at the wedding of Stephen HARPER ('79).

Hugh SCALES ('78) is a solicitor with Gledhill, Burridge and Cathro in Melbourne, specializing in Commercial Law. He and his wife Elizabeth (nee Macmillan) were married in the Trinity Chapel over a year ago and now are enjoying their baby daughter Emily.

Richard CLOSE ('83) has been with Giant Resources Ltd., since mid-'88. He is based in Cairns, Queensland and as Exploration Geologist, is in charge of Giant's projects in the Gulf of Carpentaria and Cape York. Prior to this and immediately after this graduating in 1986, he was an Exploration Geologist with Freeport McMoran Australia Ltd., working on projects in Western Australia and predominantly in Fiji.

Stephen HARPER ('79) has recently returned to Melbourne and Mallesons Stephen Jaques after spending fifteen months working in London.

Sharon ORMONN-ROSSITER ('79) and her husband Kevin have spent the past four-and-a-half years in England. They live in Manchester where Sharon is working on the endocrine effects in porphyria at the University of Manchester after completing a Master's at Salford on coronary heart disease.

Kevin works in the Electrical Engineering Department at Salford on the physics of semi-conductors. Much to the Warden's delight, they both called in to Trinity in January during an alltoo-brief visit home. They are keen cyclists and have spent some happy weeks touring in Scandinavia, France and Greece.

Sue ROYLE ('83) is working in Melbourne with the architectural firm Buchan, Laird and Bawden. A major project at present is designing a new complex for the site of the Australia Hotel.

DEATHS OF COLLEGE MEMBERS The College records with regret the deaths of the following members reported since the last edition of the Newsletter:

Alex BAKER ('80) and Ann RICHARDSON ('83) were married in the College Chapel on 14th January. The Warden greatly regretted being in S.E. Asia at the time so that he could not take the service, but he was happy that another Trinity member, Archdeacon Stan MOSS ('46) was glad to assist.

Thomas Gartley Austin Healy (1930) Robert Henry Hayman (1934) Ivan Samuel Epstein (1941) Nicola Anne Walton (1981) Andrew Noel Mervyn Sprague (1986)

Ivan BASTIAN ('80), now married, is spending a year at the famous school of Tropical Medicine in London.

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