First Nations voices speak to the Church God’s Own Country Edited by Stephen Daughtry Art by Aunty Robyn Davis
We have learned to speak the white man's language. We have listened to what he had to say. This learning and listening should go both ways. We would like people in Australia to take time to listen to us. We are hoping people will come closer. We keep on longing for the things that we have always hoped for – respect and understanding. Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann My people are not threatened by silence. They are completely at home in it. They have lived for thousands of years with Nature's quietness. My people today, recognise and experience in this quietness, the great Life-Giving Spirit, the Father of us all. It is easy for me to experience God's presence. When I am out hunting, when I am in the bush, among the trees, on a hill or by a billabong; these are the times when I can simply be in God's presence. My people have been so aware of Nature. It is natural that we will feel close to the Creator. Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann
Foreword In 2023, a majority of voters opposed a change to Australia’s Constitution which would have established an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander ‘Voice’. Among the reasons for this opposition to establishing a First Nations Voice to Australia’s government was fear, including the fear of what an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander ‘Voice’ might say. If I am truthful, I can empathise with this fear. Really listening to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices has always been hard for people like me who were raised with the settler, colonial worldview that dominates Australian life. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people have experienced Australian history in a way that has left deep wounds and seething injustices. These studies are written by some of the wisest, most generous, inspiring leaders of the Anglican Church of Australia. They are written without the encumbrances of the settler colonial worldview. In a sense, they come to us from the margins. Our theology of mission makes us alert to voices from the margins. Voices that come from the edges are more likely to point to what God is doing than voices which seek to reinforce the dominance of the powerful. Think of Jonah showing up in Nineveh. So, for a country that has just voted against recognising its First People in our Constitution, these voices come to us as a Lenten gift: an opportunity collectively to seek to discern the voice of God speaking to us from the margins. They take us back to the very beginning and urge us forward as we ask that most missional question: what is God doing today, and how are we being called to participate? For ABM, reconciliation begins with listening to what Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are saying and being willing to change. I pray that these studies are a life-giving encounter with the Word of God as we fast, pray and work together for love, hope and justice. Brad Chapman Reconciliation Missioner - ABM
www.abmission.org Published by The Anglican Board of Mission – Australia ©2024 Book design by AZanker Design – azankerdesign@gmail.com Always Was, Always Will be. ABM acknowledges and thanks all of the writers and artists who have contributed to ‘God’s Own Country’. Their work and words remain their own. Their generosity and the stubborn kindness of their peoples remain as an example and a challenge to the rest of us to do better. Thanks again to our designer, Nettie Zanker, who always comes through for us, even when we give her half the time she needs. Thank you to everyone who helped this book to happen – especially to Brad Chapman, Rachel Buxton and Celia Kemp for their careful proofing. Any mistakes remaining are those of the editor! As always, respect and thanks to the ABM staff who do great things with great love. And to Vanessa and Liam, who put up with the process and continue to long for a better world, thank you. All my love. Steve
Contents Introduction Artist profile: Robyn Davis The 5 Marks of Mission How to use this Study Guide DAY 1: Creator God of Outstretched Arms DAY 2: Navigating Our Faith DAY 3: Planting the Seeds for Future Generations DAY 4: An Exercise in Walking Backwards DAY 5: A Larger Web of Interconnectedness DAY 6: A Turning Point DAY 7: Sabbath: Giving Exploitation a Rest About us Additional ABM resources 4 45 6 57 7 69 8 83 13 96 23 97 31 3
Thank you for choosing to study with ABM again. Each year, thousands of individuals in hundreds of parishes order our Lenten Studies and sit down to consider their faith and God’s story. By joining this learning community, we hope that you feel very much a part of God’s mission in Australia and the wider world. Our studies are designed to encourage you towards a deeper understanding of what God is doing and how God is at work in the world. Mission is always dynamic, as God meets the new day and the new reality. Throughout history, we have been challenged by the radical nature of God’s love being expressed in new contexts and through new voices. We must always be alert to the living voice of the Gospel. Once, mission – as understood from a Western, imperial perspective – meant taking ‘our’ voice and our culture and our belief system and imposing it on ‘others’. The result of this approach was often destructive. Cultures and ideas and understanding that could have led us closer to a contextual and holistic understanding of where God was at work in a particular place were often demeaned, ignored or suppressed. We have needed to – and still need to – repent for the mistakes made and the damage inflicted. This is particularly true in Australia, where we have, for far too long, marginalised the voice and spiritual understanding of First Nations people. ‘God’s own country’ is an expression often used in awe, when we stand before a place we see as beautiful and wish to name as sacred. The land we live in has always been ‘God’s own country’, and it was honoured as sacred by the people who lived here for over 65,000 years before the first European boats arrived and the frontier wars were fought. In this book, we seek to listen to and honour the voices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Elders and leaders. We are invited to hear from people who are Introduction 4
both part of our Church and part of a culture, living and ancient, that met God in this country long before non-Indigenous people even knew the country existed. ABM is enormously grateful to the writers who have contributed, especially in the wake of a year that has been personally gruelling. The hand of friendship extended in the Uluru Statement from the Heart was batted away by the Referendum result. Yet, these writers have chosen to reach out again, and share generously with the Church. They know they may be misunderstood and that their voices may not be welcome in every place. But they have given the Church another chance to listen. To hear. To embrace the wonder of how God chose to reveal God’s self in ways that we cannot understand or see without their kindness. It is important to point out that Aboriginal and Torres Strait writers, theologians, clergy, leaders and artists do not all speak with one voice. They may not always agree with each other, even if it might suit non-Indigenous people to have a single narrative to learn from. Life and faith and culture are complex. Each of our writers is writing from a particular human perspective, guided by their unique understanding of the issues. Each writer’s work is their own and does not necessarily represent the views of others or of ABM. This is yet another gift to those of us who read this book. Just as the boy Jesus went to the temple to listen to the elders in order to learn, it may be that the greatest missional need in our country is that we learn to listen respectfully to those who carry the spiritual history of this land in their very DNA. This Lent, may we listen, learn and repent, in the hope that we might be part of yet another ‘resurrection’ moment in the life of the Australian church. The Reverend Canon Stephen Daughtry Education Missioner - ABM 5
The Reverend Robyn Davis is a Wadi Wadi woman from the Balranald and Swan Hill area. She has been painting and drawing for as long as she can remember. “Painting is part of my life, my nature, my being and my spirit, it is inseparable from my Christian faith and Indigenous heritage.” Her paintings, which are often of a spiritual nature, tell the stories of life, relationships and culture, and are known internationally. “I have strong ties to the river and the bush. I love the red sand, the beautiful stunted forms of the mallee trees and the soft bluegrey of the saltbush. They are all part of my dreaming.” Her clan totem is the platypus and her personal totem is the sand goanna, so she is truly a woman of both land and water. Robyn is the Director of Walkabout Ministries and a Life Member of the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council. Robyn has a strong Christian faith (she was ordained in 2009) and she believes that God has given her this gift as he gives all of us gifts. You will find a small gold cross in each of Robyn’s paintings to acknowledge the true Creator. Artist profile 6
The 5 Marks of Mission • Witness to Christ's saving, forgiving and reconciling love for all people • Build welcoming, transforming communities of faith • Stand in solidarity with the poor and needy • Challenge violence, injustice and oppression, and work for peace and reconciliation • Protect, care for and renew life on our planet (Anglican Board of Mission - Australia) The Marks of Mission were originally articulated at the Anglican Consultative Council in 1984 with updates in 1990 and 2012. They are not a final and complete statement on mission but they offer a practical guide to the holistic nature of mission. ABM has translated the Anglican Communion's official Marks of Mission (below) to adapt to our specific context. You might like to have a go at translating the Marks of Mission for your own particular context. The mission of the Church is the mission of Christ 1. To proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom 2. To teach, baptise and nurture new believers 3. To respond to human need by loving service 4. To transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and pursue peace and reconciliation 5. To strive to safeguard the integrity of creation, and sustain and renew the life of the earth (Anglican Consultative Council) 7
How to use this Study Guide Step 1. Reading the Scripture Each Study begins with the scripture readings for the week, which you are encouraged to read together as a group. Consider reading them a second time. After reading, take a few moments individually to record or remember your initial response to the text. We ground ourselves in the rhythms of the Bible. Step 2. Theological Reflection Have one or more of your group read aloud the Study for the week or day. Each writer will present you with new ideas and understandings of how the scripture might be read or interpreted. Bear in mind that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander approaches may be new to you, so take your time and keep an open mind. Remember, throughout Christian history we have been constantly renewing our understanding of the Bible in every community and society in which it has been read. Feel free to question any of this, see what it sparks in you and ask questions of each other about any ideas raised. 8
Step 3. Questions The questions are always starting points and every person or group will take them in different ways. That’s good! If they’re helpful, then go with them. If not, make up your own. Particularly if you are the leader, be sure to make space for each person to speak if they wish. Beware of the temptation to dominate a group, as it’s rarely, if ever, fruitful. Step 4. Personal Reflection This section is a more personal reflection from each writer, focusing on how the ideas in their work have been reflected in their own life. Remember, as always, that you don’t have to agree with everything that has been written. You might have similar or entirely different responses. That’s how we learn! One person in your group may be enraptured while you’re bewildered. Talk about it. Be bold. There may be more questions here. Step 5. Prayer Please end each Study with a time of prayer. We encourage you to pray together, taking time to allow members of the group (should they choose) to speak with and listen to God. 9
Remember… Lent is a time to CONNECT Since the fourth century, the six weeks prior to Easter have been set aside by Christians as a special time of prayer, fasting and reflection. As we spend time together during this Lenten period, we turn our hearts and minds to what Jesus did, not just in the week of His Passion, but also in His life and His actions towards others. Lent is a time to CONNECT with Christ, each other and those around us. Lent is a time to GROW Above all Lent prepares us for the coming of Easter so that we may truly GROW into the spirit of Easter, and GROW in our understanding and experience of the Passion of Christ. The joy of the hope of new life resounds in our response to the Spirit’s call to follow Christ in the world. Lent is a time to SERVE It gives us time to reflect on our needs, the needs of others and all that we have and do. There has come to be a custom of ‘giving up for Lent’. Not only are we called to ‘give up for Lent’, we are also called to ‘take up the Cross’ and SERVE the world around us. 10
Lent is a time to GIVE The mission of God is always one of giving. Lent reminds us that we are called to live out in the world the self-sacrificing, self-spending life of Christ. As the Easter community we are free to practice a radical generosity as we GIVE ourselves, in Jesus’ name, to each other. Supporting one of ABM’s missional projects is a great way to reach into the world. Bible Translations When doing Bible studies, people often worry about which version they should read. We have usually chosen to use the text from the NRSV in these Studies – but having a range of translations and versions in your study group will sometimes help you to discover more in the text. Whatever you regularly read will do the job if you invite the Spirit to read with you and don’t get too precious about your version being the correct one. Let’s always remember that we all read from translations – and no translation can be perfect. 11
DAY 1 Creator God of Outstretched Arms The Right Reverend Chris McLeod In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day. (Genesis 1:1-5) Painted on a cave in the Hunter Valley in New South Wales is a picture of Baiame. Baiame is the Wanarua people’s Creator of all things. With extraordinarily long, outstretched arms, Baiame embraces creation. Baiame is surrounded by paintings of hands, tools, and boomerangs. With large, bulbous eyes Baiame sees all things and looks deeply into the eyes of those who look at the painting. It feels like Baiame is looking into the soul and heart. I did not find it unsettling, but comforting. I also sense that I am not alone as I look at this painting. I am with my brothers and sisters in the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council on this 13
day, but the sense of others is more than those who are physically looking at the painting with me. Two texts from Hebrews spring to mind: ‘We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses’ and ‘long ago God spoke to our ancestors …’ (Hebrews 12:1; 1:1). As I stand looking at Baiame, I feel the presence of those who have stood and looked at this painting over centuries and, more importantly, those who created it. There is a sense of peace as I look at this ancient painting. It is thousands of years old. No doubt the legend of Baiame predates that. Aboriginal people have been on the continent we now call Australia for millennia. My own origins link with this heritage of thousands of years. Like most Aboriginal people I feel connected to this land, and I stand in awe of its beauty and mystery. It is a land that is silent but speaks. The peace and quietness of the bush says something to those who stop to listen. We name this land as sacred. The Creator’s hand can be seen in all of creation. The gum tree, spinifex and yakka, kangaroo, possum, snake, wombat, and platypus. Strange plants and creatures, unsettling in many respects, but they are part of God’s created world. Creation that God looked upon and declared good. Some get nervous when we speak like this. They think we equate God with creation. They think we are saying God is a gum tree or a kangaroo. But no, Aboriginal people are not that simplistic. We understand nuance. We understand the presence of God in all things, but all things are not God. There is a difference. The hand of the Creator can be seen on all things that God created. The book of Job encourages us to ‘ask the beasts and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or the plants of the earth, and they will 14
teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all humankind’ (Job 12:7-10).1 Creation is still good. God created light so we can see, but light also enables plants, humans, and animals to grow. There is an interconnectedness to light for all of creation. Yet, God also created darkness. There are many creatures that come out only in darkness. Nocturnal animals that thrive and survive in darkness. There are creatures in our deep oceans that never see light. Strange and often frightening creatures that God created too. Humans need darkness as well to sleep and rest; to re-create. This balance between light and darkness is not by chance. It is as God intends it to be. Light and darkness can be used metaphorically as well. We enter light when we experience something new and transforming. A religious experience can be described as having ‘seen the light’. The New Testament speaks of Jesus being the light of the world, ‘the true light coming into the world’ (John 1:9). Jesus is the light by which we see the world (John 8:12). It is through his eyes that we get perspective and see the world, the people of the world, the created order, as God intended it – as good. Darkness can also represent those aspects of creation that disturb us. We can be plunged into darkness that can mean, for many, a sense of loss and grief. Aboriginal people, with all Indigenous people from around the world, have experienced moments of utter darkness. Yet there is a resilience borne from this darkness. It is part of who we are. I am beginning to understand what the Psalmist is suggesting: 1 I was reminded of this important text very recently by Brooke Prentis, an Aboriginal minister and theologian. I thank her for the gift. 15
‘The darkness is no darkness with you, but the night is as clear as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike’ (Psalm 139:11). Only a sense of stillness and mystery can unlock the paradoxical ‘treasures of darkness’ (Isaiah 45:3). God’s presence, even amid suffering. The gift that First Peoples (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders) give to Australia is this sense of balance. Being the land’s most ancient people, we sense the eternal mystery at its heart. We have no desire to conquer or subdue it. We sense God’s presence in it and through it, and in consequence we cannot take the land or its peoples lightly. Reverence is the word that captures our connection to this land and its peoples. This is why justice is never too far from our conversation. Justice is about God’s creation and God’s declaration that all is good. All creation is of ultimate worth. All creation is to be respected. All creation is to be loved. We lose sight of this from time to time, but the light calls us back to seeing things through the eyes of God. We begin to see things as God first intended. Creator God of outstretched arms, embrace all creation. Help us to embrace your creation too. Help us to care for all created life – humans, animals and fish, plants and forests, seas, oceans, and waterways. God with bulbous, all-seeing eyes look out over your creation and protect it. Help us to see too – those who are being treated unjustly, the beauty and your presence in creation, the destruction of your creation, the love and kindness that is always present in others. Look into souls and hearts and correct what is not right in the way we treat your creation, the way we treat others, the way we treat ourselves. Help us to change. We ask this through Jesus the light of the world. Amen. 16
Questions: When do you experience creation as God intends it to be seen? What do you think the connection is between creation and justice? When have you experienced light during darkness? When have you had a deep sense of God’s presence in creation? 17
My Experience of being Anglican (a personal note) I occupy a privileged position in the Anglican Church of Australia as National Aboriginal Bishop. It is a position that I have held for 7 years. It is a great honour and blessing to be able to serve my people in that capacity. I have been a bishop for 8 years, a priest for 32, and a deacon for 33. I am also Dean of St Peter’s Cathedral, Tartanya (Red Kangaroo Place – Adelaide). I grew up in the Anglican Church but left the church and the faith in my early teenage years. I found my way back into the Christian faith through my wife Susan, then my girlfriend, when I was 17 years of age. It was quite a dramatic conversion and one that was transformational. Very few who knew me in my teenage years would have thought that I would become a bishop in the Anglican Church! Susan and her family were Baptist, and it was in that church that I spend my first years as a Christian. It was nurturing and formative. I never really felt at home in that setting, but I still regard the Baptist Church with deep affection. After marriage, Susan and I attended the local Anglican Church and it felt like a homecoming to me. What I loved then, and love now, was the ability of the Anglican Church to embrace diversity. I think that is the greatest gift we can offer as Anglicans. I also embrace the 18
inclusivity of our church. We must work at it, but it is still part of our temperament. I love the deep theological tradition of the Anglican Church, and its ability to offer space and freedom for reflection. I love the well-thought-out and prayed-through liturgy. I have made good friends through the church and witnessed firsthand the love that Christians can have for each other. It is through the Anglican Church that I have been a member of NATSIAC2 since 1994 and I have learnt much at the feet of my Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander family. The Anglican Church and NATSIAC have helped me find myself. I often say that I found my identity in Christ. The Anglican Church was instrumental in that process. I have experienced global Anglicanism and appreciate the richness and depth of our communion. We belong to a world-wide and diverse family that I embrace. With this love also comes frustrations. I believe we have become timid in the Anglican Church of Australia, reticent to work hard for justice, especially with my people. We often lack boldness and creativity. We have not yet become one with this land and my people. However, these are the challenges that drive me back into what Anglicanism offers best, to rediscover and discover ‘treasures old and new’ (Matthew 13:52). In the deep well of Anglicanism I find this pool of love and acceptance – if only we could drink from it more often! +Chris 2 National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council 19
Bio Bishop Chris McLeod is the National Aboriginal Bishop of the Anglican Church of Australia, an assistant bishop in the diocese of Adelaide, and Dean of St Peter’s Cathedral. Bishop Chris has been in ordained ministry for 33 years and has served parishes in the Diocese of Adelaide and the Diocese of Willochra. He is a foundational member of the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council, and a member of the Anglican Indigenous Network. Bishop Chris is of Gurindji descent, his mother and grandmother being members of the ‘Stolen Generations’. Bishop Chris serves on several local and national committees and boards. He is married to Susan, and they have three adult children. His interests are cooking, Australian Rules Football, and gardening. 20
Notes: 21
DAY 2 Navigating Our Faith Larissa Minniecon And God said, ‘Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.’ So God made the dome and separated the waters that were under the dome from the waters that were above the dome. And it was so. God called the dome Sky. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day. (Genesis 1:6-8) If your spirituality does not demand beauty and liberation for every person and piece of the cosmos, it is not God you are seeking, but a shallow ritual of self-soothing. INHALE My practice is love. EXHALE My path is justice. INHALE In tears of another EXHALE I meet the face of God. – Cole Arthur Riley @blackliturgies 23
As a First Nations woman, I am a fifth-generation Christian, and I come from a long line of survivors. My Kabi Kabi ancestral grandmother escaped the colonial invasion, surviving massacres that ravaged her tribe and family in Southern East Queensland. She found refuge in Gureng Gureng country and worked at an outback station, where she had her children. The life of her daughter Sarah, my great-great-grandmother, was not of her own choosing, but she fought for the survival of her people and her family. Her days are documented not through photos or letters, but through the stories of her descendants who chose to remember her and carry her name forward. Survival of foreign powers, survival of being a First Nations woman, survival of keeping her kids, a constant choice for survival. Stories of her courage and resilience are shared by my Elders with admiration and compassion. She navigated her faith based on survival. Her daughter Katherine, my great-grandmother, was a staunch Christian woman. She raised her 15 children with her sugar slave husband, who was blackbirded from the Island of Ambrym, Vanuatu, at the age of 13. They met at an outback station and married, then moved to a remote farming town outside of Bundaberg called Lowmead. There they were free from the colonial gaze and raised their family in relative peace. They worked hard not to attract any foreign interest and engaged in a Christianity that was safe. The children were safe, and life felt peaceful for the next generation. She navigated her faith based on safety. Her son, my grandfather, Sterling, became a pastor. He worked the sugar cane fields during the week and did his ministry on the weekend at the Aboriginal missions. In his early days he wasn’t invited to, or even allowed in, to white churches or towns. Segregation was 24
a reality for him and his family. He travelled to remote places of Australia, ministering to his people, working to keep his family. He loved to write. He was a poet, and wrote beautifully about a faith that was tethered to his experience, his people and his land. He navigated his faith based on resilience. His son, my father, was called to bible college in his early years. Eventually allowed to leave the state of Queensland to enter into NSW, he had access to theological education, and the possibility to become a full-time minister. Under the safety of the Aboriginal Evangelical Fellowship, we moved to Western Australia to live on a small Baptist reserve called Marribank Family Centre, also known as Carrolup mission. Under the leadership of Uncle Ronnie Williams and other Noongar families he witnessed the ongoing atrocities of colonial invasion, ongoing segregation and racism. For Dad, faith was more than Sunday service attendance: it was to hear, see and feel liberation. To understand the full extent of God’s justice, he had to achieve higher education, so as to challenge the discourse and narrative of colonial Christianity. He continues to seek truth, in all its natural, spiritual, and physical forms, a truth that could set us free from the lies of colonial Christianity. My father navigates his faith through truth-telling. As for me, the journey of my ancestors ensures I can now follow the Jesus way with strength and courage. Because of them I understand survival. I know the importance of keeping your faith safe, how to be resilient in times of hardship and the courage it takes to pursue truth-telling and justice. This is my DNA - stories of God’s creation, my ancestors making room for God to move through them in the face of adversity and injustice. I am trans-denominational, not by choice, but by human design because of colonial Christianity. How do I keep my faith safe? I need to know if this church is safe for my mob. Are they in 25
this church? How are we being represented? Are they willing to build the Aboriginal Church? The politics of the Church cannot dictate our spiritual calling to the world (read Matthew 22:36-40). The Church has not been a good neighbour to my family or my people, but I personally choose to navigate my faith through advocacy. Once I heard this dreaming story from a Larrakia sister, re-telling us a story from her uncle, that was passed down to him by his grandfather: “My old ones tell me that all life begins in the river of stars, the Milky Way. There you wait and watch for the call for you to come down to Earth. Once you get the call, you journey down the river where you are met by the Ancestors of where you are going to be born to. There, they show you the dreaming of the land, they show you what your duty will be. At each significant or cultural spot, you walk the same story that was shown to you for countless generations. Then you are born and it’s your duty to reconnect with the land and relearn that story and when it’s time for you to leave this world you’ll be met by the same ancestors that brought you into this world and they will lead you back to the river of stars.” – Aaliyah-Jade Bradbury I invite you to read Acts 17:24-28. It is by God’s own design that he proclaims our life and our death. He appoints the times, and we as his offspring must protect the divinity of his creation. For us to navigate our faith we must all continue to ask ourselves the questions posed on the following page. Larissa Minniecon Kabi Kabi/Gureng Gureng/ Torres Strait Islander and Australian South Sea Islander Scarred Tree Indigenous Ministry of St John’s Church, Glebe, NSW 26
Questions: How do I honour my faith story? Is my faith resilient? How is my faith surviving the daily adversities? Is my faith willing to listen to truth-telling? Is my faith an advocate? For whom? For what? How do I keep my faith safe? 27
Bio Larissa Minniecon is a respected emerging Christian leader who has a rich ministry heritage. Her parents, Pastors Ray and Sharon Minniecon, have over 40 years of service in ministry to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander individuals and families across Australia and are currently based in Glebe at St John’s Anglican Church where Uncle Ray runs Scarred Tree Indigenous Ministries. 28
Notes: 29
DAY 3 Planting the Seeds for Future Generations The Reverend Cameron Burr And God said, ‘Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.’ And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, ‘Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.’ And it was so. The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the third day. (Genesis 1:9-13) The approach that I have decided to take with this passage is less of a study and more of a critique of how this passage has historically been understood by the Western Church, including the Anglican Communion. We must also address the subsequent teaching that drew on such interpretations, for example that colonisation and the dispossession of peoples’ lands and rights was God’s will. 31
When we first read verses 9 and 10 of this passage it sounds as though it is contradicting verse 1, which says, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth”. If God created the heavens and the earth back in verse 1, how can the earth be created again in verses 9 and 10 by dividing of the waters? Verse 1 of Genesis is the introductory heading to what has become known as the creation narrative by theologians and the early church Fathers. Many theologians throughout Christian history have believed that the Genesis creation narrative was written by Moses as a direct challenge to other widely-held religious beliefs of groups in the area at the time. It was a challenge to the divinity, power, and ability of their gods. Some of the religious groups in the area believed in multiple gods; they had a god for everything. Others believed that different aspects of creation came about through battles and the work of said gods. For the Israelites, their creation story states that they only have one God (Yahweh). The God of the Israelites was so powerful and so divine that He created the entire heavens and all the earth. There was no battle, there was no physical labour on their God’s behalf. All He needed to do was speak and all creation came to be. Chapter 1 of Genesis outlines not only how God created the heavens and the earth, but more importantly, especially for this study, why God created the heavens and the earth. The direct translation of the word “Earth” in the Hebrew means “Dry Land”. So, if we take the Genesis creation narrative literally, which has been the Church’s historical stance, verses 9 and 10 would lead us to believe that, prior to the waters being gathered and exposing the land masses that would come to be known as earth, there was nothing except water. There was no “Earth” or “Dry land”. This new 32
land had appeared out of nowhere: it wasn’t home to anyone or anything, it was void of all life until verse 11 when God created vegetation. This new land was also still in complete darkness because the creation of light doesn’t happen until verse 14. As stated previously, it is widely believed that the author’s purpose in writing the Genesis creation narrative was to prove how powerful the God of the Israelites was. There is no perceived relationship between God and the land or seas, they are elements to be controlled, to be dominated in order to show the power of God. Unfortunately, it was this historically-held theological belief, especially among white, non-Indigenous Christians, that lead to the widely-held belief that colonization and the conquering of foreign lands was not only Godly behaviour but, by extension, ordained behaviour for followers of the Christian God. For this reason, the ambition of every great civilization has been to create the largest and strongest boats that could sail further and further. The further a ship could sail the more lands a civilization or empire could ‘discover’ for the first time and claim as their own. It didn’t matter if there were native peoples already living on said land. If the dominant civilization believed that they were the first people to find it then they believed it was “new land”, not belonging to anyone, not home to anything and in complete darkness. If necessary, we First Nations were simply categorised as the flora and fauna that starts to appear to verse 11. Those with the biggest ships and the strongest armies control the land and seas and whoever controls the land and seas has power and dominion over the earth, the known lands. Still to this day we can see this with the ever expanding and changing military powers around 33
the world. I think of the United States of America with their nuclearpowered submarines and aircraft carriers that can traverse the globe with ease, or the rise of the Chinese government building new islands and reclaiming old ones in the South China Sea. I would like to say that the Western Church has progressed somewhat in that it frequently condemns the actions of governments and foreign militaries for their unwarranted expansion into the lands and seas of other sovereign peoples – but unfortunately, I cannot wholeheartedly do so. The Church, in my experience, puts little to no energy into fixing this destructive theology and fails to address the continuing actions that come about due to a message of imperial dominance. In fact, I would say that more energy from the Church goes into keeping this kind of thinking around because it gives them a valid, theological reason for their involvement in the atrocities that have happened to First Nations people the world over, not just Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. But what if this passage has been misunderstood or misinterpreted? What if the theology around this passage is wrong and it is not about showing off the power and dominion of God? What if it is about a loving God that hears the cries of his people who are in pain and suffering? What if it is about a God who will do anything to save His people even if that means moving back the waters of the ocean to expose the dry land and an escape route? Dry land that will lead the people to a place where they will no longer be in captivity under the strong hold of their oppressors but instead will be free to flourish and bear good fruit, planting the seeds for future generations? What if we looked at verses 9 through 13 as the Israelites praising God for the miraculous lifesaving miracle that He had performed? 34
Genesis 1 is believed by some to have been written by Moses in or around 1,400BCE after the time of the Israelites’ exodus from their slavery in Egypt, after the parting of the Red Sea that led them out of captivity. The way in which this passage is written sounds very similar to the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt, in particular the parting of the Red Sea, the revealing of the dry land allowing them to pass through, the appearance of vegetation that will sustain them in their new land as well as the fruit bearing seed that will see growth and future generations provided for. I believe it could be very likely that when Moses or others were writing the creation narrative, they used their past experiences and drew upon what they saw happening around them during their Exodus from Egypt. This in no way changes the meaning or purpose of what Moses or others are intending to convey to those reading verses 9 through 13. It also in no way changes the power and authority of God to perform these miraculous works, controlling the sea, the land, and everything that grows within the land. But it would potentially give us a greater insight in the situation from which this passage draws its creative imagery. This would also mean that the justification that has been historically used by Western churches, governments and empires would no longer be valid – particularly their taking over lands they deemed now belonged to them because they ‘found’ them or were new to them because they had never been there before. 35
These lands were not new land in darkness, home to nothing and no one. The peoples that were there before the colonisers/invaders arrived were not flora and fauna. As a proud Boandik man this is a correction in historical thinking that I could get behind. A loving and merciful God hears the cries of His people who are under oppression by a foreign empire and uses the elements of His creation to show the love and compassion He has for His people and the lengths that He will go to give bring them out of captivity and back into their own sovereignty. This has been, and continues to be, the cry of all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples since colonisation. Amen 36
Questions: What might it mean for the Church to take seriously the call to release Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people from cultural oppression? What do you think about the relationship between this passage and the Exodus story (the parting of the sea)? What is your understanding of the role of the Church in the process of colonisation? Is it acceptable any longer to talk about ‘colonising’ another country or land? If not, how do we rethink the colonisation of Australia? 37
My personal experience, both as a First Nations person and a newly ordained member of the Anglican clergy (and a young one at that), has been filled with mixed emotions and experiences. As a young priest and one of only two ordained First Nations clergy in the diocese of Adelaide, at times it can feel like my cultural ancestry and identity are at odds with God’s calling on my life. Most days it feels like I’m walking in two worlds, and not in the positive ways that the Uluru Statement dreams of. It is hard to give an overall picture of my experience within the Anglican Church. I find that my experience of our church and the people within it, both clergy and laity, very much depends on the person, the topic, what you’re trying to achieve, whether it’s a church related issue or something outside of the church. If I’m being brutally honest, it sometimes seems the Church hasn’t changed much in the 235 years since colonisation. If you are someone who goes along to get along, someone who doesn’t make waves, goes to church on a Sunday, worships like everyone else, dresses like everyone else, thinks like everyone else and behaves like everyone else, the fact that you are Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander is not a problem. Personal reflection on navigating the Church from an Aboriginal perspective. 38
However, that does require you to leave your cultural ancestry and identity, your ancient spirituality, Dreaming and song lines at the door. Typically, when I walk into an Anglican church, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time either to colonial Australia or mainland England during the 1700-1800s. There is little to no representation of Australian culture within the churches that I’ve attended, let alone anything to make First Nations people feel welcome. As I’ve said, the church to me – and this is just my opinion – doesn’t feel like it has changed in 235 years, in terms of both its liturgy and ecclesiology. This has been especially noticeable during my studies and training for the priesthood, which was a very cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-all process, pumping out ‘Church of England’ priests. There was very little appetite let alone encouragement for me to look at theological topics from a First Nations perspective, while there was even less flexibility when it came to the ability to experiment with First Nations inclusive liturgy and or ecclesiology. In fact, in the second year of my Bachelor of Theology I had to plead my case to study a unit of reconciliation as an elective over the Christmas/New Year break. It has become my experience that the more proactive and outspoken I have become about reconciliation and First Nations issues, and the more the laity and clergy of the Church become open to having this conversation, the more the structures of the institutional Church 39
get in the way. I believe that one of the reasons for this is because the Church is either trying to avoid having the uncomfortable conversations, or is afraid of the changes that are necessary for true reconciliation and the acknowledgement of a First Nations Voice, or both. It has come to a point for me where I have taken a step back from parish ministry, going into full-time chaplaincy to Anglicans and First Nations people from the lands at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, so that I can dedicate more time in the evenings and on Sundays to invitations to speak at churches and host book studies. Once the requirements of my formation are completed, I look forward to visiting more parishes on my Sundays to strengthen their understanding of First Nations culture and how it might enrich them and our nation as a whole. Furthermore, I will use the opportunity to find a church where I feel comfortable and safe to explore my faith as an Aboriginal man within an Anglican framework. I will say that the environment within the Anglican Church towards First Nations has changed a little, as it has generally across the Australian public. But as I’ve sat down to reflect on my experience as an Aboriginal person within my Diocese and the Anglican Church of Australia more broadly, I would have to be honest and say that the Church is still generally not a safe, inclusive, and welcoming place 40
for Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander people. I don’t say that to cause outrage or to offend anyone but based on my experience and the experience of others that I’ve spoken to. It’s a truth that the Anglican Church really needs to hear if it genuinely wants to repair its relationship with First Nations peoples. Blessings, Reverend Cameron Burr Proud Boandik man from the South East of South Australia 41
Bio My name is Cameron Burr, and I am a proud Bungandidj (Boandik) man. My ancestors’ country stretches from Beachport in the South East of South Australia down to Nelson in Western Victoria before continuing inland as far as Millicent and Mt Gambier. I am an ordained priest in the Anglican Diocese of Adelaide and the diocesan representative on NATSIAC (National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council). My current ministry role is as a full time hospital Chaplain where I am privileged to be able to support not only those of the Anglican faith but also all First Nations peoples regardless of faith or denomination. My greatest passion both as a priest and a proud First Nations man is to seek recognition and greater education within the Church and wider society on First Nations issues, giving the first peoples of these lands a greater voice as we struggle for recognition within the Church and wider society. 42
Notes: 43
DAY 4 An Exercise in Walking Backwards The Reverend Canon Auntie Di Langham And God said, ‘Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years, and let them be lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth.’ And it was so. God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. God set them in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day. (Genesis 1:14-19) I am Auntie Di, a Buandik woman, whose tradition is from South Australia. I am the Reverend Canon Auntie Di Langham, Director of Reconciliation in Newcastle Anglican Diocese. I live in Blackalls Park. I am married, have four children, fourteen grandchildren and four great grandchildren with one on the way. I am also the chairperson of Nikinpa Elders. I am part of the Nikinpa Art group and enjoy being creative. 45
My grandmother told me stories about the cosmos that connect to both my life and faith. They are ancient stories and have a wealth of spiritual healing and significance. The Bible tells us that on Day 4 of creation, “God made the two lights – the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night – and the stars” (Genesis 1:16). I guess the writer was talking about the sun and moon. The sun is the most massive object in our solar system and contains over 99% of the mass of the solar system. The sun is a star and is huge. The sun is in the centre of our flag. It gives us warmth and life. The sun is brighter than 90% of the stars in our Milky Way. God told Abraham, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be” (Genesis 15:5). “Just as the host of heaven cannot be numbered and the sands of the sea cannot be measured, so I will increase the offspring of my servant David, and the Levites who minister to me” (Jeremiah 33:22). It took millennia to catch up on the numbers of stars this verse is alluding to in the Bible. Early astronomers could only see 3,000 stars in their time. Galileo could see 30,000 stars, but modern telescopes, like Hubble and James Webb, can see trillions of galaxies with trillions of stars. In the New Testament we see the mention of a star that led the Wise Men to the birthplace of Jesus. We find in Matthew 2 the words, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” 46
My Indigenous culture has many traditional stories about the stars. The star stories are told so our people can learn the pointers and direction-finding markers for travelling across these countries. The Songlines, or the song stories of our people that are sung, danced and memorised, are for travellers to know the route to their destination. We believe the tracks have been forged by Creation Spirits during the Dreaming. One of these songlines is the Seven Sisters. In the Hunter where I live, there are rocky outcrops that are markers for the Seven Sisters. The Seven Sisters are reflected in the sky as Pleiades, or as some people call it, the Jockey’s Cap. In the Hunter they are situated on the Aboriginal trade route that has the Great North Road built on it. At a recent NATSIAC1 gathering, many of the delegates, who had come from all over Australia, had Seven Sisters stories; so, it is a common marker for directions. The Northern Territory women recognised our Seven Sisters before we mentioned it, which meant for us they have the same songline. It was a star that was the pointer to the baby Jesus. At funerals I always tell this story, especially when there are children. The Milky Way is called Dinewan (the emu). If you look up in the night sky, you will see a giant cloud of stars that are in the shape of an emu. We believe that this is the Great Corroboree. We believe that when we die, we go up into the heavens. That is why when someone has passed away, we go outside at dusk and watch the sky. The first star that shines is the campfire of the person who has just passed away. We stay, watching the sky and as each star starts to creep out in the sky and the sky darkens, the campfires of our ancestors become visible. These campfires keep coming out as stars and the campfires 1 National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Anglican Council 47
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