Tallygaroopna, Numurkah and Cobram

April 26, 2009 (pics are thumbnails, so click on them for larger)

I must confess, that before making arrangements for this particular visit, I had never even heard of Tallygaroopna. I do apologise to the local folk for my own ignorance, but the truth is that my knowledge of Numurkah and Cobram was only marginally better. The moderatorial journey continues to be a delight of discoveries.

We managed to make other arrangements for Duncan, so he was able to attend John Diacos' 45th birthday (he's older than me!) on the Saturday evening with Richard and Rosemary O'Brien and then stay over with them and get to Scots' Church on the Sunday. We did it this way because the minister of TN&C, Frank Savage, had told me there would be no children at his churches and we felt it might not be fair on Duncan to put him through such a long day without even meeting up with some new friends. As it turned out, there was a family of 3 children in Cobram, including a boy about Duncan's age, which was lovely and gave me the opportunity to dust off a story for them in church.

On Saturday evening, Alison and I drove to Shepparton through one of the worst storms we have ever driven in - and don't forget, Scotland gets its fair share of wild and stormy weather. The rain was so heavy, driving speed was reduced below 50kmhs on the freeway; visibility was so poor I drove some of the way up the middle of the road to follow the only thing I could see, the white line; the wind was so strong we worried about trees or branches being blown onto us; and the lightening was so bright that on a couple of ocassions it hurt my eyes. Oh what a night!! We were very glad to finally reach Shepparton.

On Sunday we started at Tally at 9:30am and we found a small but wonderfully warm congregation, despite the early winter chill. Frank led most of the service, including dragging his guitar out to lead the singing of a couple of choruses.

At each service (except Cobram, where I replaced it with a children's address) Frank gave me the opportunity to say something about my experiences as Moderator. On the whole I was happy to report what I've been reporting in these pages, that it has been a positive and encouraging experience. Despite the portents of doom we frequently hear in the press, most congregations, though small, are sincere in their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, lively in their fellowship and generous in their hospitality. And many congregations have a surprising number of children and young people, which bodes well for the future.

The main downside I am seeing is that personnel are stretched thin, both professional and volunteer, especially ministers and elders. I am concerned that we expect too much of the handful of good elders who are scattered around each region and we risk burning them out.

Tally provided a very fine morning tea after church, but we didn't have very long to fellowship with the folk there as we had to get to Numurkah for 11:15am. There they really laid it on thick for a visiting Scotsman, including tartan trimming around the door, a wee tartan-clad cuddly toy at the front of the church, and a bagpiper called Jock to lead me down the aisle at the beginning and back out at the end - he also entertained us over lunch in the hall.

In Numurkah, the Church of Christ uses the Presbyterian church hall - at the same time as the Presbyterian Church are singing with great gusto right next door - but in Cobram the Presbyterians make use of the Anglican Church, dedicated to St Catherine of Scotland, no less. (Not that I'd ever heard of St Catherine of Scotland, but then, I'm not Anglican.)

It is great to see these examples of ecumenical support, and others like them, throughout many rural parishes. I strongly believe that it is to the glory of God when his people can work together to bear witness in their local community.

For a sermon, being the 'second week of Easter' (if you pay attention to the Christian calander), I preached again as I had done at Kirkbrae the week before, on the Walk to Emmaus from Luke 24:13-35. If was somewhat different, perhaps more refined, and without reference to any harvest thanksgiving.

I invited the congregation to consider our own 'Walk to Emmaus'. It's not an exact analogy, of course, but we are now leaving behind the comforts and successes of former generations, in which the Christian church was the central socal institution, with immense influence, and we all had high hopes for a thoroughly Christian future; just as the disciples were leaving behind the comforts, successes and high hopes that they would have had in Jesus, leading up to his triumphal entry in to Jerusalem.

These things are now behind us and we face an uncertain and perhaps even frightening future as a new social-cantract is worked out, in which the Christian church is no longer a central, respected, revered institution, but a marginal bit-player, sometimes deliberately marginalised, sometimes even vilified, similar to the uncertainties and fears that the disciples faced as they walked home to Emmaus, fully expecting the persecution that was meted out to Jesus to come their way too.

I gave them 5 practical words of advice to carry us through this journey: (1) talk to one another about the things of Jesus; (2) be prepared to talk to strangers about Jesus and always talk him up, even though it might be tempting to vent disappointment that things aren't as they used to be; (3) spend time in the Scriptures, and learn to understand that even though God has not fulfilled our expectations, hopes or dreams, he is still fulfilling his own plan of salvation; (4) practice hospitality, which will give you the opportunity to recognise Jesus as your journey's companion; and (5) seek out the company of believers - no Christian is an island complete unto himself.