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08.05.02 - The Queensland Church with the invisible congregation.
From Royce & Heather
Perkins.
I attended a church service the other Sunday morning. Couldn't see a soul, but I shared in communion, heard a children's talk - though not a child to be seen - responded (as did others) to the pastor's questions, listened to a message on Mark chapter 3, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was sitting alone at the time in my home office, clutching a telephone. The rest of the congregation were in diverse and distant parts of outback Queensland conferencing with speaker phones. The Church of the Outback had met again for Sunday morning worship.
Congregational participation included prayer and praise points. The need for rain figured in the first and "We thank You that we can worship together by phone" in the second. Practical prayer needs were covered - a pregnant mother with sugar problems; safety in travel across long distances; computer hassles; land care difficulties. At communion time, one gave thanks for the bread, and another, hundreds of kilometres away, gave thanks for the cup. Altogether it was an enthralling and inspiring experience.
Trevor Meares, now based in Toowoomba on Queensland's Darling Downs, led the service. He is a Church of Christ pastor who graduated from Kenmore Christian College in Brisbane in 1969, served at Broken Hill (where he learnt to fly an aeroplane), then at Dalby and Bongeen in Queensland. In 1985 Outback Christians in Ministry began, followed by Phone Fellowship in '87, which grew to be The Church of the Outback in '91. Though affiliated with Churches of Christ in Queensland, the Church of the Outback is inter-denominational in character. The strategy is to build up outback and isolated Christians with teaching and encouragement to enable them to share their faith. "They already have relationships that would take years for an outsider to grow", Trevor explained. "City people have difficulty understanding the financial and personal struggles of outback people, especially those on long-term drought affected properties - they often have the mistaken 'well-heeled cockies' view. Church finances are often fragile, though the bond of fellowship is strong".
"What about pastoral care?" I wondered. The answer is a single-engined, 2-seater-with-luggage Cherokee 140 aeroplane.
I sat in the cramped passenger seat as we began a Monday-to-Friday pastoral visit that took 11 flying hours to visit four properties. The vast horizon-to-horizon expanse of the Darling Downs appears as we climb. Huge geometric patterns of black, all shades of brown, grey, and occasionally, green - squares, oblongs, rectangles, zigzags and circles. Every now and then spots of green mark homesteads and sheds and toy-looking trucks and tractors. Nothing seems to be moving - except us. A sort of "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world" illusion at 4500 feet, and sometimes lower.
We landed at Kroombit on a grassy strip, observed by a curious herd of cattle beyond the fence. Neville and Sylvia Knight and son Ric warmly welcomed us. Nev and Sylvia have worked Kroombit for 44 years. If you want to drive there, get on to the Leichhardt Highway (it starts at Goondiwindi and runs 698 kms to the Capricorn Coast), look out for Guluguba, which is half way between Gililgulgul and Wubegul, then head off for about 32 kms and you'll reach Kroombit - you can't miss it! There hasn't been much rain hereabouts for a long time. Kroombit's carrying capacity is one beast per one hundred acres.
What's the value of Sunday morning church-by-telephone? Deep-voiced Nev said, "It saves an awful lot of travelling and it's in the house! It's better than the time and travel it takes to get to a church, and it involves all the people as part of the service. It's very much a family thing, especially the prayer and praise points. And we can cover the weather as well as anything else". "I just love it", Sylvia said. "The only thing I miss is congregational hymn-singing". The Kroombit fellowship was good.
Next day we headed over the ragged cone peaks and rugged escarpments of the Bigge Range, passed by Emerald, crossed over the moonscape of the coal mines out from Blackwater and tracked for Clermont past Lord's Table Mountain (a flat top amid the peaks) and on to Willesley, landing beside a field of sorghum.
John and Veronica Wood have operated these 37,000 acres of cattle and crops (corn, cotton, sorghum) for 12 years. They have invested countless hours of hard work with massive bulldozers to make dams, ready for when the rain comes. The latest, almost finished, will hold 9000 megalitres. That's an average of five metres deep over its 300 acres - when it rains! For the Woods, the telephone church solves the questions of distance and dress ("Phone church solves the problem of what to wear"). For Veronica, the fellowship of phone church is important. "You don't know their faces but you get to know them as part of God's family", she said. "Because they are on the land too, you feel they understand what is going on in your life". John commented that "you feel you are not the only Christians in the bush". At the moment, their dams are drying up and their rainfall is way below average. So what does it mean to them to be Christians drought after drought? John: "Some people take their life because its hopeless. My faith gives me a long term hope". Veronica: "You know even when all this is going on, God is still in control. You have Someone to lean on and turn to. You can't do anything for yourself. It's your faith that keeps you going".
Shane and Delma Neuendorf are on Willesley too. They have almost three children - 4 years, 3 and one due in early June ("It's a 2-hour drive to Emerald if you don't hit a 'roo"). Phone church, according to Shane, "is really our only means of Christian fellowship. It's good, and for that we are thankful. Sixty per cent of something is better than 100 per cent of nothing. You have to learn to feed yourself. That's the discipline". They came here from the town of Dalby, 870 kms. away, and they miss the during-the-week activities like Bible study groups.
Next stop Clermont, where Rhonwen Tighe and 9-year-old Aimee meet us and drive us to Greenmantle (there's no airstrip there), their grain growing property (sorghum, wheat, sunflower, chick peas) with some cattle for fattening. This is an average 26 inches rainfall area, but there's been nothing like that for several years. They know the heartbreak of dying crops. Jim describes phone church: "It's good to hear other people. You learn as you listen. It's a group of like-minded people and even though we are apart, there is a togetherness, a bonding, sharing a common faith, and encouragement. It may not be the sole thing that sustains your faith, but it helps!" Rhonwen: "I think people in city churches take the fellowship of going to church a bit for granted. Phone church for me means fellowship, strong fellowship. You become very close even though you haven't seen them. Because you are a bit isolated, you need each other more. But being alone, not cluttered by traffic and noise, teaches you your need of God, and He is there". Their worker is off for a week with a sprained ankle, and Rhonwen goes to Rockhampton at the weekend for a few days to be with her mother while her father undergoes surgery. The bonus is she will be able to see the other children at boarding school. The dusk erupts with the screeching of white cockatoos and pink and grey galahs who seem to think the crops have been painstakingly grown just for them. The faith and trust in the Lord of these people amid the busy pressures of drought farming are a quiet inspiration.
Day 4. Jim left before we did to deliver a truck-load of grain to Capella for cattle fodder. We set out for Nuga Nuga. The Carnarvon Range emerges on the distant right. High in the mountains we land on the station airstrip, warmly welcomed by Tom and Ruth Wagner and 9-year-old Kate. The two older children are in boarding school in Rockhampton, 3 1/2 hours drive away, much quicker in the station plane. The escarpment into Arcadia Valley at the edge of Expedition Range marks the western boundary of Nuga Nuga's 78,000 acres (28,000 in use). They grow oats for the cattle, breed bulls, and run 1 beast per 10 acres. Ruth says of the Church of the Outback, "Living a long way from where you can fellowship, it's so nice to have ongoing fellowship regularly". Tom said, "It binds everyone together instead of being out on your own. You have good friends even if you don't know what they look like". "How far to your mailbox", I inquired. "We're fortunate - it's only five kms and mail comes twice a week". Ruth nonchalantly mentioned that she goes to a fortnightly KYB (Know Your Bible) group. "The venue moves from place to place. It's about 80 kms each way mostly on dirt roads".
Day 5 and the Cherokee warms up for the Friday flight back to Pittsworth (where it's hangared) then home to Toowoomba. Trevor Meares believes the Church of the Outback hasn't finished growing. He believes it will develop into five services (one on Saturday night; two Sunday morning; two Sunday evening), and the facility is now available for interstate outback people to join in.
It's the Year of the Outback. What better way to celebrate it than to uphold these outback saints as they worship the Lord by telephone. And uphold Trevor Meares as he provides the nurture, the teaching, the word of God - and the pastoral care. The Church of the Outback, tel 07 4636 5078 Fax 074636 5738; Email OutbackAussie@bigpond.com. |
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