Melbourne Welsh Church
Ordinary Sunday 16: 18th July, 2004
Fr John Davis, Vicar of St Peter's, Eastern Hill
Sermon preached on the occasion of the 151st anniversary of the founding of the Melbourne Welsh Church.
And Jacob said: "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." (Gen 28:17.)
I am delighted to stand in this pulpit at this anniversary time as the incumbent of a neighbouring city church and also as the present convenor of Melbourne City Churches in Action. As an Anglican, I am here representing a Church whose current best claim to fame would be that it has a Welshman as its archbishop of Canterbury – and a fluent Welsh speaker at that. I am also happy to lay claim to a goodly majority of Celtic blood flowing in my veins – both Scottish and Welsh – and to honour that tough and unfortunate Welsh boyo, who somewhat unwillingly was the first of my Davis family to come to this part of the world in 1830. And I stand here to honour what you are doing in this community of faith to preserve and nurture the linguistic, cultural and religious heritage of your forebears.
Today we give thanks for and honour the vision and the determination of that first generation of Welsh pioneers who cared sufficiently about their God and their Church to start what they did here, 151 years ago. That was no small thing. And all around this central part of our city that was going on. At St Peter's on the Eastern Hill of Melbourne we were at the same time expanding our simple earliest church built only 6 years before, to cope with the huge numbers of people arriving for the diggings.
What a remarkable generation that must have been. Bearing in mind that most of those who were here in Melbourne were here willingly and not at Her Majesty's pleasure, what a huge task and challenge confronted them. What hopes and fears they must have had fresh off the boat from a homeland that was so very different. Houses, shops, pubs, courthouses and lock-ups came very early. But churches and schools and banks were in there too. Developing farms around these young communities had to provide the essentials of life that could not be imported by sea.
Part of the drive of the newly arrived settlers of course was to be able to reproduce as faithfully as possible as early as possible, those central aspects of the cultural environment of home in a strange and new land; like a church where familiar traditions and ways of offering worship to God could be honoured. The driving impulse of some may indeed well have been as much cultural as religious. All was not perhaps so strange after all.
Now 151 years later, perhaps even bigger challenges confront those of us who worship and serve in these historic churches, so long at the centre of our community life and now facing so much that is uncertain. It would be nice to think that in another 151 years we will all still be continuing in service and ministry, valued and cared for. But that is by no means clear. None of this may be taken for granted no matter how venerable are our stones.
Changes in taxation and local government rating systems for instance in a generation more hostile than indifferent to religion could see most of our churches turned into concert halls, art galleries and storage sheds, just as happened in much of central and eastern Europe for several generations of the 20th century. In many rural regions as well as many parts of our suburban areas, the changes in demographics as well as the aging profile of those who continue to care to go to church may see the same result in any case. Things are no longer the same. Nothing, including our continuing existence then, can be taken for granted.
We are today surrounded by great and pressing need in our wider community: a need that is indeed deeply spiritual but that is increasingly more difficult to be able to be met by the traditional Church, as presently configured and experienced. This is both confronting and challenging. It is not hard to become discouraged. It is not hard to encounter great resistance if change is being contemplated in an attempt to address some of these issues in other ways than those previously tried. The needs and the cherished familiar pathways to God of the remaining faithful also must be respected and honoured. There has to be a way that does both.
It is absolutely clear that for a combination of reasons, the Church as a whole is facing most challenging questions of direction, of confidence, of hope. In the absence of something quite remarkable occurring, a very large number of our congregations will simple cease to exist within the next twenty years.
Those of us who worship in historic churches do not want to be custodians of musty and decaying museum pieces that from time to time are appropriately dusted off. What a tragedy that would be and how demoralising, how sad that would be if that were broadly so. We must be offering more than fascinating insights into the quaint habits and customs of long dead forebears. These places need to be the focus of living communities now. We know and accept that. But because of our long traditions, we each carry particular and special responsibilities, and these go further than our ongoing worries about the leaks in the roof or aging drainage systems.
Historic churches are then so much more than admired designs of bricks or stone and mortar. Because of their age, they hold a particularly significant place in the hearts of generations of people, in the corporate memories of families and communities. These are sacred places. This is sacred space.
This recognition relates to an accumulation of experiences, the adding together over the years of significant happenings. The patina of worship and hope and dutiful service can be observed in a place like this. The power and faithful strength of the prayers of the generations can be felt. At times it can be contagious.
So it is that all manner of occasions have been celebrated within the walls of this particular Welsh Church here in La Trobe Street Melbourne. They will continue to be in the future, for there is every indication of the benefits of an excellent combination of careful stewardship and the good fortune of property in a prime location. The worship of God, on-going rites of birth and marriage and death, times of community celebration, the cherishing of a particular national and cultural tradition, times of quiet insight and reflection, all that cleaning and polishing and caring for this place – so the round will continue, as it has through all these years. The style and the details may change but the overall shape of things will be there.
The people will be different; the expressed needs and desires of the surrounding community may be different. But it will be the fact of what continues to go on here that will matter. That it goes on, how it goes on – each is of importance. As in every Christian church, according to its tradition, here God will be worshipped, neighbour will be loved. If this is not so, then the place has abandoned its purpose.
Perhaps it is fortunate that we are unable to see into the future. Good stewardship demands that we look after that which we have received and which has been entrusted to us. Part of that may be understood to be buildings and plant – all these fine things that surround us. But none of that will ultimately last if the centre has not held.
The centre must be that foundation of which so many of our great hymns sing – and the Welsh tradition is very good at that! The guiding hand of God for pilgrims in a barren land – even if they were pilgrims looking for gold – was certainly something that our forebears wished to be reassured about. That is at the heart of our stewardship: that rock-based foundation of God in Jesus Christ in a tradition that we have known and loved. Lives shaped, nurtured and encouraged by that relationship of love that is Christian discipleship must be the centre of what goes on here, and in every community of faith. This community of faith will have a particular way in to that relationship that is shaped by the faith and cultural tradition that is yours – yours to share and to pass on.
Therein lies the hope, therein lies the future. Even the most beautiful of surroundings are secondary to that truth. But it is also true that these good stones can yet see many succeeding generations, each in their own way attempting to live lives of service and care, offering worship to our God with gratitude and thanksgiving for all the blessings received, just as in these first 151 years.
So in the regular worship, in the ongoing pastoral care and outreach – in all the normal things of a community of faith – there is definitely still that spark of life. For in these most simple things lives are still changed. God is embraced and honoured. So yes, even in our somewhat embattled and tired state, the rumour of God is still abroad. Our worship, our witness, our service to those around us all have the power to attract, to make and grow disciples, to give glimpses of the wonder that is God, the grace and the care that is of God in God's people. It is truths such as these that will sustain us through the hard transitions that lie ahead. Our structures and organisation are therefore a second level concern, not a first. They are able to be re-expressed, refashioned, renewed. But first there is God. We all need to live as people of God, firm in that conviction.
So we have gathered at a time when we are honouring and celebrating 151 years of Christian service in this congregation. We give thanks to God for this and your fellow Christian friends in the other city churches of Melbourne warmly greet you, in the name of our common Lord.
And Jacob said: "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." (Gen 28:17.)
The Rev'd Dr John Davis
Vicar St Peter's Eastern Hill Melbourne
Convenor MCCIA
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