Blog

by the Rev Rex A E Hunt

Historians and theologians are quite direct with their assessments of Australian colonial religion.
Scottish born theologian, James Denny (1856-1917), stated Australia was
“the most godless place under heaven”. (Quoted in Breward 1988)

In 1788 when the First Fleet arrived in New South Wales from England,
Governor Arthur Phillip not only established a penal colony,
a goal for the 736 convicts—548 males, 188 females—and to a certain extent
the marines and officers who accompanied them,
he also won the land for ‘protestant’ Christianity.(Breward 1988:2)

His orders included the charge that he
“enforce a due observance of religion and good order among the inhabitants of the new settlement, and that you take steps for the due celebration of publick [sic] worship as circumstances will permit.” (Woolmington, quoted in Thompson 1994: 1)

Likewise the oath of allegiance at the foundation of the colony included
“a rejection of the doctrine of transubstantiation, presumably to ensure that no taint of Romanism entered even a prison colony.” (Breward 1988:2)

Exiled from home and family perhaps forever,
both marines and convicts found their new land ‘alien’…

The full text can be read here.

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in,
where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike”
(John Muir, 1912)

In the weeks between my first Covid jab in late April
and the first calendar days of the southern hemisphere winter and our Flu injections,
the 12 year young Japanese Maple (Acer Palmatum) in our front garden,
(a seedling gift from a mate when we were leaving Canberra)
was undergoing a time of transition.
From the gentle chlorophyll green sea-of-life-filled foliage—a miracle of evolution,
to its chosen orange and burgundy seven-acutely pointed, lobe leaves…
Not an all-at-once process, but a gradual must-do life-saving transition
as its energy from photosynthesis is diverted to the roots, resulting in
autumn technicolored leaves pirouetting to the ground in a light wind—plop,
to become crisp brown litter and our garden’s spring fertiliser.
Nature outdoors.
Nature approaching the cold of winter clad in a brilliant palette of colours.
Nature inviting us to appreciate daily experiences of wonder.
As Albert Camus wrote: ‘Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.’

The full text of this talk by the Rev. Rex A E Hunt can be found here.

How can Unitarianism be regarded as a religion when we have so many different points of view among the members?

This is the problem that the Rev Geoffrey Usher examines in the talk which can be read here. This talk should be read in relation to the previous post by the Rev. Geoffrey Usher.

“To feel religiously is to speak with the tongues of poets…
Like the language of art, poetry, and friendship, the language of religion
is suggestive, not descriptive or definitive”
(Bernard Meland)

Carl Sandburg (1878–1967), the widely regarded American poet, author, Chicago journalist, and three-times Pulitzer Prize winner—twice for poetry, once defined poetry as ‘the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits’.

Intrigued, I began to search for its context. Now I didn’t discover where he actually placed the comment—in a poem, that is— but I did find where hundreds of others have quoted it. So I am prepared to accept it as a genuine Sandburg saying.

By-the-way, of poetry Sandburg also wrote nearly 40 other so-called ‘definitions’.
Some of those are:
Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment.

It wasn’t until I read the comments of another poet, who also wrestled with his
‘hyacinths/biscuits’ definition, that I reckoned I began to appreciate some of the meanings attributed to it that made it attractive to many.

‘The putting together of unlike things to give us a new view of our world’.
(Joan Monahan) A ‘synthesis’ view of life.
oo0oo

As it happens one of my theological mentors, Bernard Meland (1899–1993), said of Sandburg’s poetry comment that it also defines life, “for life, too, is a synthesis of biscuits and hyacinths.” (Meland 1934:279)
(Meland changed the order…)

This is the intrduction to a thoughtful address by the

Rev Rex A E Hunt, MSc(Hons), GradDipCommMgt.
• Religious Naturalist • Social Ecologist • Progressive Liturgist
( further information can be found at www.rexaehuntprogressive.com

The full talk can found here.

A review by Cassie Thornley of the book “Into the Loneliness: The unholy alliance of Ernestine Hill and Daisy Bates” by Elenor Hogan

This book is the complex, well researched and forensic biography of two women who helped maintain and solidify two great 19thC myths, that of white tribe supremacy and power structures;  and the wonderful romance of wandering around distant places, especially if you are an unaccompanied woman.
Though very different in temperament both women had illegitimate sons who were raised by family members.   Ernestine befriended hers in his late teens, Daisy’s refused to attend her funeral – he had virtually never met her.  
Daisy had a vibrant personality and saw herself as a serious ‘scientific investigator’ despite lack of formal training.  She was initially employed by the WA Gov. to  document indigenous people and their culture.  Starting in a settlement outside Perth she travelled slowly north, back south then across east finally settling, by this time in her 60s, outside Ooldea and then Yalata in western S.A. Money had run out long ago, Daisy was bombarding the S.A. Premier with letters seeking  ‘proper recognition for her great life’s work of caring for the dying race of Aboriginal people’  and a pension.  She had become quite eccentric, still dressing in the formal attire of the late 19C including boater hat and an umbrella.
It was at this time that the young journalist Ernestine Hill showed up at her camp.Ernestine was in her late 20s.  She had left Melbourne for personal reasons but had a contract with a large publishing firm to write articles about life in the inland.  She had travelled widely in the north and interior alone, and was well regarded for her numerous magazine articles.  She was fascinated by Daisy’s personality and stories about being ‘Kabbarli‘ the benign caring ‘grandmother’ to the local indigenous people.
Daisy saw in Ernestine a wonderful opportunity to gain publicity for her ‘great work’ and leverage for a pension.  She told the credulous young woman exaggerated stories of the lifestyles of the ‘poor dying out natives’ mentioning cannibalism among other problems. 
Earnestine promptly wrote a series of articles without checking the veracity of Daisy’s stories.  They caused a great sensation.  Ignoring the dissenting voices of anthropologists and indigenous people Ernestine then persuaded Daisy to give her access to her notes and helped her write a book.‘The Passing of the Aborigines’ was published in 1935 to much acclaim and became a bestseller.  The book was quoted as late as the 1990s by Pauline Hanson to support her views, and helps underline the attitudes of the ‘black armband’ brigade until today. Earnestine’s own book about her travels ‘The Great Australian Loneliness’ was published in 1939-41.
This century Daisy’s story came full circle.  Indigenous researchers and anthropologists sorting through her disorganised notes found reference to country boundaries, lists of words, and stories recorded from old people early in the century. They are useful to help support land claims and add to reconstruction of language.
The author travels to the Yalata area hoping to learn if elderly people there had any memory Daisy’s life among them.  She manages to connect with an elder,  Russell, through whom she meets a number of elderly Anangu and Pitjantjatjara women. They had heard of Daisy, acknowledging that their people had learnt from her while also teaching her their ways, they had ‘looked out for her’ in her isolated camp. But there were bad memories too, Daisy’s dislike of mixed race children was assumed to be the cause of so many of them being removed, and her lies about cannibalism were known.   Leaving the community Russell commented “Two great clouds hang over our people, Ms Daisy Bates, and Maralinga”.
Beyond the lives of these two women the author takes us through the intricacies of her research, with comments on current lifestyles and the many interesting people she meets.
A wonderful read!