FOREWORD

My initial contact with Harold Bischoff was when he entered The College of the Bible of the Churches of Christ in Australia, at Glen Iris, Victoria in 1930 (my final year) to study for the Christian ministry. Contact has continued down through the years to this day.

The motto of the College of the Bible (now Churches of Christ Theological College) was "All to the glory of God". This record of his life suggests that Harold made this motto an ideal for his own life and service.

His early life was simple and his education limited. If someone had predicted then that Harold would be:

• A successful and loved Christian minister;
• A pioneer in special children's programmes;
• A pioneer in the production and use of a national and uniform syllabus for Religious Education in schools in New Zealand, along with the production and introduction of the fast Activity Books in the schools of New Zealand with a wide variety of other teaching aids;
• The General Secretary of a Bible Society in New Zealand and a Vice-President of the National Bible Society of Scotland;
• A representative of the Bible Society overseas in assessing needs in Bible translation and supplies;
• The National Secretary of a Christian Communion; many would have said scoffingly, "Impossible". This record shows as the Lord Himself says, "What is impossible with men is possible with God." (Matthew 19:26)

Undoubtedly God said of Harold as he said of Saul of Tarsus, "He is a chosen vessel to me to bear my name before the people. . ." (Acts 9:15). So the day came when Harold fulfilled the exhortation of Psalm 37:5 "Commit your way unto the Lord, trust in him, and he will bring it to pass."

At that time of decision Harold could well have said with the Apostle John, "Now are we the sons of God and it does not yet appear what we shall be. . ." (1 John 3:2). But with a surrendered life "God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think." He did this with the lives of both Harold and his dedicated life's partner and fellow worker for Christ and his church, Muriel, as this record shows.

What God has done for and with Harold and Muriel he can do for others. My prayer is that God will similarly be able to have his way in the lives of all who read this resume of lives well spent for God and people.

Acknowledgements

I would like to express my very great appreciation to Merle and Rodney Van Cooten, my niece and great nephew who have given so unsparingly of their time and expertise in the preparation of this book for printing. Without them it could not have been produced. [vi]

HOW I CAME TO WRITE

I had never really thought very seriously about writing the story of my life. It was not my idea. My experiences certainly have been very interesting and satisfying but I have not felt that they would necessarily be of interest to a very wide circle of people, so the writing would therefore not be worth the effort. However, some of the family suggested that l should write and write now. The suggestion moved along the line to a "request", a "persuasion" and then almost a "threat if I didn't" begin to write. There was the problem as to the form the story should take. It certainly wouldn't warrant being published as a book as it would only be of interest to family and friends. However with good friends to help, Merle, my niece, has very kindly offered to draft it into form on to a computer and Rodney, her son, who is a computer consultant at the Melbourne University, has offered to take it from there and put it into an attractive readable form. So here I am. Here is my story or at least a small part of it. I hope it will be worth reading. I trust you will enjoy it. I am writing it at the end of 1991 as I begin my eighty-fourth year.

I have decided to begin by telling you who I am, then move along through some childhood memories, memories of my parents, growing into manhood, my call to the Ministry and College experiences, and then divide my ministerial services into those within the pastoral ministry of the church and those with related organisations. While the pastoral and para-ministries were intermingled I thought this plan would be the most helpful. I will add a few extras at the end which do not fit under these headings.

WHO I AM

My birth certificate says that I am Harold Charlie Bischoff, son of Friedrich Bischoff and Bertha Wilhelmine, formerly Abraham. My father was born in Queensland at Vernor and my mother at Wilhelmsdorf, Prussia, Germany. So you see I am not only a Bischoff but a "descendant of Abraham" as well!

I was sixth in the family following Arthur Erich,11 years, Allan Frederick, 9 years, Elsie, 8 years, Lena, 5 years and Fredrich William, 3 years. I was born on 19 October, 1908 at Vernor, near Lowood, Queensland. My brother Norman Edward was born 5 years later.

I have always used "Charles" instead of "Charlie". I'm not sure why. Perhaps I thought it sounded more sedate.

I was married to Muriel Olive, formerly Tippett, on 27 July, 1936. At least that is what our marriage certificate says. Muriel believed she was born at Benoni in South Africa on 19 April, 1912. That is what her christening certificate says. When she became eligible for a pension in New Zealand she had to get a birth certificate from South Africa. It says she is just plain Muriel (no Olive) born at Boksburg (not Benoni) on 18 April (not 19). So I'm not sure if I married Muriel or Muriel Olive and she isn't sure whether she is married to Harold Charles or Harold Charlie! However we are married and live happily together!

We have never had children of our own but seem to have gathered a lot of proxies on the way and also a lot of "nephews" and "nieces" and "grandchildren". We have been as Dad and Mum to many admiring children, one who even wanted to leave home and live with us, and to a young prisoner whom we often cared for while he was on parole. One Father's Day we were invited to afternoon tea by an Indian family at our church. We had often dined with them and visited them. We graciously accepted [2] the invitation, and as Father's Day meant nothing to us in our childless family we went just as a usual visit. However at the door I was greeted and gifted as "Father". They said, "We have no father here and you have no children so why not accept each other!" We are Uncle and Aunt to many proxies, even over a period of fifty-five years, and have often stood in as a third set of grandparents. Only last week a little boy greeted me as "another grandad".

MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD

While, because I make a practice of preaching without notes, people often say "You're certainly not suffering from loss of memory", I'm afraid that is not actually the case since in my eighty-fourth year I find my childhood almost completely blacked out. I can remember practically nothing of it.

Perhaps the earliest experience I can remember occurred when I was about four years old. My father and I were down at the pig sty. Dad had placed his good steel hammer on a ledge and I had knocked it and it fell into the sty in which a hungry old sow lived. Naturally she nosed it a little to see what it was and I cried out excitedly, "Quick, Dad, she's eating it!" It would have taken some digesting, to say the least. Dad was greatly amused and often reminded me about it, and that is probably why I remember it.

During my early days we attended the Baptist Church near Lowood, Queensland, which later became the Tarampa Baptist Church. On occasions we would have as visiting speakers some of the leading men from Headquarters. It was our privilege as a family to offer hospitality, as Dad was an elder of the church. As far as I can remember our family was a very practical and loving one but did not express themselves in "hugs and kisses". I can still remember my great embarrassment in being picked up and nursed and hugged by Rev T. U. Symonds. I simply wasn't used to it and scrambled off his knee as quickly as possible.

I can't remember much of my school days. We lived about three miles from the school and at times walked, rode a horse or were taken in a gig. My sister, Lena, told the story of how one time when my mother was away I refused to go to school and they had to get my teacher to come out and threaten me with punishment to make me go! I don't really believe that I was such a naughty boy, but there it is! On one occasion we were travelling home from school by horse and gig when one of the boys decided to play a trick on us and give us a fright. As we moved along he suddenly jumped out of his hiding place and gave the horse such a fright that it jumped and broke the harness and bolted home without us. Dad came with haste to see what had happened.

One of my tasks was to go and get the cows at milking time and sometimes we played games on the way. One day I took a friend with me, Augie Stumer by name. It was drought time and one particular dam was minus its water but still had plenty of soft mud. Knowing that if anyone tried to cross it they would possibly become subject [3] to waist deep mud, I decided to play a joke on my friend and offered to race him across the dam. I ran like fury with him but stopped suddenly as I got to the edge while he went straight in and became covered in mud. I not only got what I deserved when I got home for being late with the cows but I had to take a wide berth of my friend's home for several weeks on the way to school.

One of the things I appreciated about my childhood was Christmas. Christmas was far different then from what it is now. The gifts children receive today were simply never heard of then.

We believed in Santa and were sure he would come if we were good and kept our eyes shut on Christmas eve. In expectation we would hang out our stockings at the end of the bed. If the gifts were too big for the stockings they would be left beside them or tied to the end of the bed. Our special treat was often only nuts and biscuits and lollies. And we thought we were great. Maybe we got a whistle or something we could make a noise with as well.

We always went to church and to Sunday School and had a Christmas tree there. We also received gifts--a nice brown paper bag with our name on it filled with nuts and lollies and biscuits! Yummie, yummie--a second special treat we thought we were the luckiest people in the world.

One Christmas eve I can remember hanging out my stocking and going to bed, waking in the morning to find nothing short of a horse tied to the end of my bed! I jumped out of bed and began to ride it round the room. It was my first horse and my very own! Did I have fun learning to ride it! I rode it into the lounge room and out on to the verandah. Was I excited! Of course it was a wooden horse but I had a lot of fun with it and rode it almost non-stop for days.

As time went by I learned to ride a real horse and had a pony of my own to ride to school and get the cows.

As a member of a family on a dairy farm I was required to rise early and yard the cows for milking, bring them to the bails as required, and help feed the calves and the pigs. The family always met together for breakfast and there were always family prayers. On the way to school we took the cows to the paddock and brought them home for milking on the way home. With kerosene lamps and candles and the farm responsibilities there was never much desire or encouragement to do homework.

I was never really a sportsman but can remember winning some prizes at school for high pole vaulting. I was probably more interested in silly things such as teasing the girls. I still carry a dent in my head which I received one day chasing a girl threatening to kiss her. She ran under the steps leading up to the school room and I bumped my head a beauty. I guess it taught me a lesson to be more careful and not so silly. [4]

MEMORIES OF MY PARENTS

I cannot remember very much about my parents after a period of over eighty-three years except the very difficult circumstances under which they must have lived and worked. Just think of a background like this:

Mum's father and mother, Michael Julius and Ottilia Abraham were born in Germany and arrived in Australia in 1885 and settled at Deep Gully, Ropely, near Gatton in Queensland. Julius was a wheelwright and farmer, and they were naturalised in 1887. They were parents of eight children with my mother second in the family. The first six were born before coming to Australia. The last two died in infancy--one at five days and the other at six months. The little cottage in which they lived at Deep Creek, Ropely, is still standing today.

Grandmother passed away in 1896 and Grandfather Abraham married again in 1903 to Mary Richtor and they lived at Laidley. I can remember meeting her when I was a child as she taught me a lovely little chorus which has stayed with me through the years:

My remembrance of Grandfather was when he was a frail old man of 87 years. He was then living as our neighbour with his oldest daughter Lydia, Mrs Charles Litzow.

Dad's father and mother were born in Germany in 1836 and 1840 respectively (according to the headstone on their grave in Vernor cemetery) and were married in 1864. They migrated to Queensland, arriving in January 1865. We are not sure where or how they lived after arrival except that we find them at Oxley Creek near Brisbane when their fast son was born in 1866.

In 1869 they made application for selection of land at Vernor (as it is known to us today) on the Brisbane River. The Certificate of Fulfilment was granted in 1874. They had selected 40 acres and paid £1 for the lot (6d per acre) and were charged £3.8.0 as a surveying fee. They had at this time a two roomed cottage made of slabs and shingles split from the local timber and twelve acres under cultivation fenced with a split post and rail fence. Dad was born in 1872 in the midst of this settling in period.

But in 1893 the Brisbane river flooded and washed their home away! They found it stranded in the backwash in a gully. They were determined to save what they could and carefully dismantled it and stacked the timber ready for removal when another flood came and washed the lot away.

We have no details of what happened then but Grandfather seems to have died the following year at the age of 58 while Grandmother lived on until the year of my birth in 1908 when she died at the age of 68. Dad would have been 21 at the time of the flood and 22 when his father died.

Imagine the hardships Dad and Mum must have experienced in getting married two years later, with Dad aged 24 and Mum 21 years. Imagine starting from scratch and building a home and raising a family of seven children. They must have toiled and saved and had great determination, as I can remember how Dad bought out our neighbours one by one and invested in land at Buaraba and Murgon and up England's Creek, doing all that he could to see that each member of the family got as good a start as possible when they set out to establish their own way in life.

I can remember my mother baking with the old wood stove and how she kept it polished up with stove black and brush. I can remember how on baking day she would carefully stoke the fire to heat the oven and the only way she could assess the temperature was to open the door and test the heat with her hand. She would then carefully stoke the fire to maintain the heat she wanted for the required period. She baked all sorts of things but I can remember how the scones and little currant cakes, which Dad rudely called "possum knockers", were delicious.

The baker delivered the bread with horse and van twice a week and the butcher delivered the order every Friday. The fresh meat had to be cooked as soon as possible, after being in the van most of the day, and the rest of the order had to be placed in the brine cask under the house until required. There were of course no refrigerators in those days. [6]

Occasionally we would kill a bullock and a pig and make German sausage (which was called "vaust") with a carefully blended recipe of beef and pork, filling the smokehouse with ends of vaust where it would be cured in a sealed shed with a smoky fire. The vaust was delicious when cured and when I rose at daylight to get the cows in for milking I would often slip in and break off a piece to eat to help me on my way. I remember how when we killed the pigs we used to drench them with copious supplies of boiling water until we could scrape the bristles off and make them look so beautifully white and clean. They would then be winched up on the gallows and dissected as required.

Another memory I have is of washing day. Mum would have to light an outside fire and boil the water in the copper to do the washing. It always came out beautifully clean. She used to make her own soap and believe me it was anything but soft and delicate. It could remove almost any dirt or stain.

There was no such thing as a hot shower as there was no supply of hot water. If you wanted a hot bath you had to light the copper and heat the water.

During the days when we worked with the horse team felling and carting timber to the mill it was a rather unequal partnership with Dad on one end of a six foot crosscut saw and me on the other as we felled the trees and cut them up. He never seemed to be short of energy and always had plenty of strength.

I often wondered how Dad and Mum were able to cope with the limited education they had. Dad was born at Vernor in Queensland and would have received a limited country education, but Mum having come from Germany at the age of ten, entering a new country and learning a new language, must have had severe educational difficulties. She could speak and read and write in German and used to correspond with friends or relatives in Germany but as she grew older she found the language more difficult and could no longer cope with it. I can remember how she often prayed and read devotional books in German although Dad and Mum never conversed in German at home. Her father was a wheelwright and Artie's family still have a German wagon made by him.

Dad was a strict disciplinarian in my day and had high general and Christian ideals of behaviour so we had to watch our "Ps and Qs". I do not think he ever sought much by way of leadership in the community but I do remember he was an elder at church and also a director of the Murraree Bacon Factory and a co-signatory for their cheques and used to get whole books of them to sign.

One of our pastimes was fishing in the Brisbane River. Dad made his own flat-bottomed boat and knitted his own fishing nets, and after buying the twine and the hooks he would make his own setlines and handlines with hooks and sinkers.

Fishing with a handline wasn't very exciting as the fish seemed to be few and the turtles kept nibbling the baits off. They were too small in the mouth to be hooked so we were continually re-baiting to feed the turtles. We were really out after the jewfish but occasionally a young eel would snatch the bait and if we were not careful it would make a horrible slimy knot and tangle in the line before we could release it. [7]

We would go to the river late in the afternoon and set the nets and the setlines. They would be tied to the bank or to a log in the river on one end and be stretched out and anchored on the other end. We would check the nets and lines at night with a lantern and retrieve them in the morning.

The net was the best prospect with a two inch mesh, and corks to keep it afloat. There was the possibility of catching fresh water mullet, bream or jewfish, or perhaps an eel that would get tangled in trying to steal a fish out of the net.

On one occasion we decided to add to the nets so made a fairly substantial wire-netting cage with a funnel shaped entrance, baited it with fish or fowl to tempt the eels, and set it on a sandbank in shallow water in the middle of the river. We had already made a good catch in our evening inspection and I was amazed when I went in the morning to find the cage just alive with eels. There were so many that I had to leave the nets behind with the cage and be content with my bag of fish. There were far too many for us to handle, and we weren't that keen on eels anyway as they were a little muddy to taste. We decided that I should take the horse and gig and go out and sell them. They were eagerly bought, cleaned, cooked and eaten, or smoked and kept to serve as a delicacy on some future occasion. More often than not we would be lucky to get enough for our own needs.

Needless to say Dad, having lived on the river bank for the first twenty-one years of his life, was quite an accomplished swimmer in spite of the fact that it was believed that an occasional shark frequented the river. Sightings had been reported and occasionally something seemed to go straight through the net. I can remember him sometimes stripping off and diving in with grace and skill and then returning to the boat or bank. Somehow we spent little time in the water and when we did indulge it was usually in the dam and not in the river.

Those were great days in the bush and on the farm and l wouldn't mind living them over again. I would have to admit that during these years I probably sowed some "wild oats" but fortunately for me they did not grow too well and I escaped the consequences.

GROWING INTO MANHOOD

Variety of Experience

After leaving school I worked on the farm at home and occasionally worked for other people. I worked for my brother Artie and his wife Tean at Buaraba, for my sister Elsie and her husband Walter at Tarampa, for Rudolph Pieper, a neighbour, at Wivenhoe timber clearing, and with Bill McKinley, a friend, with whom I went timber cutting on the north coast of Queensland sapping house stumps with a broad axe and splitting posts and palings and shingles. We used to bake our own bread and make our own potted meat out of kangaroo tails. If you boil them well they will set like jelly and are [8]

delicious. I also spent a period in a stone quarry at Beerwah spalling stone with a sledge hammer.

Working at home did not just involve me with dairying and agriculture but also with cattle and timber felling "up the creeks" where we owned a property. There is a family photo of me driving a bullock team which belonged to my friend Ted Stumer, but most of my team work was done with horses carting timber to the mill which still stands in Fernvale today.

Breaking in Horses and Riding

We bred a lot of our own cattle and horses. The older members of the family had a lot of experience in horse-breaking which tapered off in my time but I did have some opportunities. To have first ride on a horse was quite an experience and we did the breaking in not only of our own horses but also for the people in the district. We were the horse-breakers. It was a poor-spirited horse which did not test its skill in ridding itself of its burden, and I suppose it was really an unfair contest with a rider who had [9] had the opportunity of developing his skills. We were usually the victors but occasionally we were dropped off unceremoniously.

I can remember one young mare which after trying desperately several times to dump me finally accepted me as the victor and behaved alright as long as nothing happened. But if she got a sudden fright or saw something unusual in her hindsight, such as when you wanted to carry something, she would go into action. On one occasion I rode her to Fernvale, our nearest shopping area, filled a sugar bag with supplies and mounted her only to be dumped bag and all, publicly in the main street, on my head. However after remounting her with some assistance, I was able to stay in the saddle.

When working for Artie I did a good deal of cattle work and developed some skills in riding and throwing bullocks. When we mustered for dipping and there were "strangers" in the paddock we often left them in the yard in the meantime and it was a good opportunity to have a little fun. I would often, very unsuccessfully, try my skills in riding a bullock. It's really amazing how hard they are to ride and it is also amazing to see how quickly you can get out of a yard under a fence with a little help from a bullock on your tail!

I was honoured on one occasion to be invited by Walter Barrett, a cattle and horse dealer, to accompany him and be the rider when he took a number of horses up the north coast to a sale. We would travel so far while I rode one horse and then get into a yard somewhere so that I could change horses and so have a workout on each horse before we reached the sale yard where I was expected to mount and ride each horse during the bidding. There was one "Kleo Colt", young and fresh and quite a bit dicey. It was agreed that it might be best in this case just to lead the horse, which I proceeded to do; but much to my horror the Auctioneer said, "Hop on him, son" and while I was actually trembling with fear I very "courageously" hopped on bare-back and rode the colt to a good sale. Barrett was very proud of me and offered the job again on his next trip.

Among the Dingoes

On one occasion when I was working at our grazing property "up the creeks" Dad asked me to do some ring-barking of the trees in the Mt England corner of the property. The idea of ring-barking was to remove a ring of bark around a tree to prevent the sap running and thus cause the death of the tree with a view to growing more grass for the cattle. At this time I was particularly dingo conscious and would practice imitating the dingoes when they howled. Although we seldom saw them there seemed to be plenty about. A likely place to find them was in the vicinity of a dead beast. It so happened that a bullock had apparently got its head stuck in the fork of a fallen tree and had somehow, possibly by being charged from behind, fallen and broken its neck. On the way to work early in the morning, I thought maybe there could be a dingo or two still in the area so I rode a certain distance, armed with a gun, and then left the horse and the axe and proceeded on foot.

The dead bullock was in a gully and there was a cattle pad in the wiregrass which provided easy access with the tall grass giving good cover. I stooped as low as [10] I could, moved along the cattle track some distance and then gave the call as best I could to ascertain if there were any lingering "dogs" at the beast. To my surprise, almost to my horror, I had a response not from one but from several. I got quite excited and proceeded cautiously on hands and knees, all the time "whining and howling" as best I could. The reply seemed to be coming from over a steep bank where there was a pool of water. I imagined a grandstand view and the possibility of several shots. With dreams of several dingoes in my bag I crawled excitedly closer. To my surprise, all of a sudden, I saw a huge "yellow dog" coming full speed along the track heading straight for me. Imagine the terror I experienced in looking straight into the mouth of a snarling dingo! I was too surprised even to raise the gun. All I could do was yell! I must have really yelled, as the dingo turned and went for his life. After I recovered I got to my grandstand, saw several dingoes and had a few shots, but as I was shaking like a leaf in a storm, I returned with empty shells and an empty bag.

The only thing I could be proud of was my "skill in calling". What I should have done was just called and sat and waited. I had surprised myself on other occasions in having a dingo come to investigate the source of my call.

Whilst working for Art and Tean at one time, early one morning Artie called, "Quick, Harold, there's a young dingo out in the paddock near the hens. Grab the horse quickly and see if you can run it down".

I grabbed the horse, hopped on it bare-back and got into action. I ran the dingo down into a hollow log right near the gate to the house paddock where we quickly blocked up the log until we worked out our method of attack. We chopped the dingo out, got a rope around its neck and eventually got a dog strap and chain on it. The idea was that I would feed it and tame it and see what we could do with it. It was very frightened and savage for a time but eventually I got it to the place where I could handle it. However l was soon to leave working there and could not take it with me. It became so difficult and savage with anyone else that it was decided to put it down. I had become quite attached to it and was sad when I heard it had to be put down. Dingoes can be friends.

THE CALL TO MINISTRY

While I spent my early years as a "perfectly normal young man", deep down in my heart there was always a deep faith in God. This was cultivated in our home with daily worship conducted by my parents, by being taken regularly to Sunday School and church and particularly through association with the Christian Endeavour Society. It was there perhaps above all else that I felt the challenge of the Christian faith. The monthly Consecration meeting and pledge always presented a tremendous challenge. The pledge, as I remember it now, went something like this--"Trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ for strength I promise Him that I will make it the rule of my life to pray and read the Bible every day, that l will support the work and worship of my own [11] church in every possible way and that in so far as I know how, I will endeavour to lead a Christian life".

I made a public commitment of my faith at the age of twelve and was baptised in the old Baptist church near Lowood 71 years ago. Baptisms there used to be conducted by immersion in a neighbour's dam but I believe I was one of the first to be baptised in the new baptistry built into the old church.

Gradually there seemed to grow in me a call to Christian service. I had become interested in the newly formed Church of Christ at Fernvale and believing that the principles and practices of the Churches of Christ were closely in line with the principles and practices of the New Testament church, by choice and conviction I came into membership there in 1929 and became a lay preacher. Almost immediately I applied for acceptance as a theological student at their federal college, the College of the Bible, Glen Iris, Melbourne, now the Churches of Christ Theological College, Mulgrave. As I had not worked hard at school, had had little incentive or encouragement to study and had left school at the earliest possible moment, I had to spend my first two years at the College doing my Intermediate and Leaving subjects.

Coping with college studies and student ministries with churches, as told under "ministries" later, was tough but it gave me a good grounding for later life.

To break the monotony and strain of study we used to get up to all sorts of mischief. The welcoming of new students and farewelling of exits was always quite an occasion. One stands out in my mind in this respect. There was quite a bunch of students going out, some of whom were quite "hefty" and there was even earlier experience of wrestling and boxing among them. They had threatened us not to [12] man-handle them and we heeded the threat. We decided instead simply to lock them out of the college one night. They had been invited to a special evening at the Vice-Principal's home which gave us the opportunity of having them all out at one time. We set to work to lock and block every door and window. Most of the rooms were upstairs but there were some living down in the "slums" below. We took every precaution. We hid the ladders so that they could not attempt to climb up and enter the upper windows. We hid the spades in case they had the bright idea of using them to get under the "slum" windows and force them up and break the catches, and so on. One of the boys even had the bright idea of taking a garden hose upstairs and fastening it to the bathroom tap in case we had to persuade them not to start climbing. Then we waited with an upstairs view in bright moonlight. We could not have been more excited if an army had been expected.

The first arrivals belonged to the rooms downstairs, mentioned as the "slums". They walked up to the doors and innocently took hold of the handles only to find the doors were locked. They held a brief conference, tried the other doors and then suddenly it was obvious they were heading for the spades to jam them under the window and force the catch. Imagine our delight at their consternation at finding the spades missing.

The upstairs men approached and found the doors locked, and we watched as they headed for the ladder. We chuckled again at their consternation in finding the ladder missing.

Then there was a sudden, excited shout from one of our number, "Methven looks as if he is going to climb the parapet to enter an upstairs window." Another had the bright idea of dissuading him with the a little water. He cried, "I'll get the hose, Harold, you open the window, and Allan, you turn on the tap!" Danny got the hose alright, Allan turned on the tap but Harold couldn't get the window open! So it was Danny and his bed that got the hosing down. I can't remember if we finally relented and let them in or if they had to spend the night in the Common Room. I was probably too excited to allow "the conclusion of the whole matter" to register.

College however, on the more serious side, was a wonderful experience. There was no doubt about the mental and spiritual development, the development of skills, the training in methods of working and learning and above all the enlightenment that came to us from the Scriptures. We were indeed Scripturally grounded. We caught the vision of what ministry was all about. With my early background I never became an academic but I felt I did develop on the pastoral and practical side to the extent that l could carry out a worthwhile and acceptable ministry of care and teaching. [13]

PASTORAL MINISTRIES IN CHURCHES

At the time of writing I have completed almost 61 years of ministry since I began with my first student church in October, 1930; however, not all of these years have been in the pastoral ministry of the church. Twenty-six of them were spent in specialised para-ministries which, because of their nature, gave regular pastoral ministry opportunities and involved me in the pulpits of practically all Christian communions. I will look fast at pastoral ministries in the Churches of Christ.

Drummond, Victoria

I began my first student ministry with the church at Drummond, Victoria, a small country church not far from Kyneton. For my weekend services I received £1 per week, plus travelling expenses. The appointment was for one year, which was the usual term for student ministries, but at the end of the year I was delighted and encouraged when the church approached the principal of the college asking that I might be permitted to serve a second year. This ministry was an encouraging experience in that six of the young people made confessions of faith in response to my Gospel preaching and I was privileged to take them through the enriching experience of Christian baptism.

No doubt I was very raw and inexperienced as a preacher in those days but I always prepared thoroughly and did my very best. I remember how on one occasion I decided to try being very dramatic. I took as my subject and text "The thing was done suddenly". I had carefully selected a number of texts, and there are plenty of them in the Bible, where things happened suddenly and unexpectedly, and I was urging the congregation to live in a state of readiness for whatever might happen. To drive home the point I shouted, as I used an apt illustration, "The thing was done suddenly!" at the same time striking the pulpit with all my might. It so happened that the building had the old style windows which were pushed up in their fittings and held there with a prop or piece of wood. The action wasn't as smooth as it used to be and someone had just pushed up the windows considering the prop to be unnecessary. However as the building shook, with the power of my dramatic action, down came the window with a mighty bang! The congregation seemed to lift off their seats and fall again as one unit! They looked pale but impressed! I'm sure if I had said at that moment, "Would those who would like to make things right in their lives please come forward" I would have been knocked over in the stampede!

One of the congregation meeting me fifty-five years later, told me of the happy memories he had of going to church sitting on my knee in the old buggy. He was at the time President of the Australian Council of Churches.

One family usually looked after the hospitality requirements of the students and had what they called "The Preacher's Room". The lady of the house was noted for her scones--honestly I have never seen, or made, scones like them. One night after a sumptuous meal of scones I said to the congregation, "If the sermon is no good [14] tonight, blame Mrs Gilmore's scones! If the sermon is good, give her the credit". The scones did it. Someone said, "She must make wonderful scones to make you preach like that".

In quail season, or when the rabbits were plentiful, I would sometimes catch an earlier train and the father and the boys would take me out shooting. The father especially was a crack shot and they would pair me off with him. He would give me first shot and if I missed he would almost always bring down the game.

The church no longer exists but I am still meeting those who were young people in those days and finding them and their families to be active and dedicated Christians in other congregations. There is a particular joy in meeting those whom you helped in their decisions for Christ, and had the joy of baptising, after 59 years and finding them still standing by their decision. Small country churches and the ministry of immature students have their value.

Bet Bet, Victoria

My second assignment at a student church was at Bet Bet, Victoria, just beyond Maryborough. The church was about 160 km from Melbourne. This was another very happy ministry. At a district "Back to Bet Bet", fifty-one years later, I met five of the eight young people I baptised there in a two-year ministry. One of those not present was in West Australia where he had just retired from a life of ministry. There were over three hundred present at an ecumenical church gathering at which I had the privilege of being guest speaker.

At the District celebration Muriel, my wife, was approached by a woman who asked, "Where's Mr Bischoff? Where's Mr Bischoff? I must speak to him. I must see him. I used to clean his shoes every weekend when I was a little girl!"

Preaching there as a student was a little nerve-wracking--but nevertheless good training. There was an old gentleman in the congregation who had the habit of whispering rather loudly to his brother during the sermon, telling him what he thought of it. The "whisper" could be heard up in the pulpit! If things were going nicely he would say, "That's a good point. That's a good point, isn't it?" If he didn't agree with what was being said he would "whisper" "A lot of rot! A lot of rot!" If I hadn't acquitted myself well he would slip past me at the door without a word. If I had pleased him he would take me with both hands and say, "Keep going, Brother. Keep going. You'll make a good minister one day!"

On one occasion one of the young men took me out to see some gold mining. I had stayed on for the Monday morning. It so happened that just as we arrived at the mine, some of the machinery collapsed, much to the disgust of the miners. Language!--you've never heard anything like it--not even from a bullock driver! As a young minister I was most embarrassed and didn't quite know how to say, "Watch your language. I'm a minister." So I said, "I'm sorry I can't offer to help you. I have my good clothes on and will have to preach in them next Sunday." You've never seen the atmosphere clear so quickly in your life! [15] The Bet Bet church no longer functions because of changes in the nature of the district but at the time of the "Back to Bet Bet" celebrations we located active members from this congregation in at least ten Melbourne suburban and country churches.

In visiting a suburban church as guest preacher forty-eight years after leaving Bet Bet, I was met at the door by a man, an elder of the church, who greeted me by saying, "You're Harold Bischoff, aren't you? You baptised me forty-eight years ago. Here is the New Testament you gave me on that occasion. I have carried it ever since, even through the war." How could you help but feel that ministry was well worthwhile?

Ministering at Bet Bet for two years was no easy task for me as a student. I travelled there each weekend from Glen Iris College of the Bible, attended the Christian Endeavour meeting on Saturday night, on Sunday gave two addresses, told two children's stories, taught the Bible Class, and then did some pastoral visiting on the Monday before returning to Melbourne to take up the studies of the week and make the necessary preparation for the following weekend. They paid me well--£1 per week and expenses. Jolly good money in those days!

The late Harold Patterson, one of our senior ministers who was born in the district, was invited as guest speaker for the Sunday School Anniversary services. He suggested that he and I should sing a duet "Hark the Harold angels sing!"

North Richmond, Victoria

My third ministry began toward the end of my college days and was at North Richmond, an inner suburb of Melbourne. The old church building has now gone and a new one stands in its place. This was really what I would call a single man's appointment. The commencement salary of £3 with no residence would hardly have supported a married man. My salary was increased by 10/- as the work prospered and I served there for a year and nine months leaving to get married and serve in a larger church.

This ministry was a happy and successful one registering twenty-six new members by baptism over the period with eight baptisms on the closing night of my ministry. The daughter of the last and youngest baptised on that occasion is now a leading worker at the church here at Frankston, Victoria, from where I am now writing. The mother is still a faithful worker in another congregation.

Looking back on the lighter side of my ministry there I remember an elderly couple coming for marriage with the lady even then much older than the man. He seemed a little sensitive about it and explained, "Mr Bischoff, I should explain there's really nothing in it. It's just a business arrangement!"

During my ministry at North Richmond I became engaged to Muriel Tippett of the St Kilda Church of Christ. It happened like this. We were both actively interested and involved in the Christian Endeavour movement. I was at that time the Vice-President of the Victorian Churches of Christ CE Department and as such I was invited [16] to be one of the subsidiary speakers at the National Convention in Brisbane. I wished to organise a CE Convention Echo meeting at North Richmond on my return and at the convention approached a friend whom I knew to act as soloist. She was unable to oblige, but introduced me to, and recommended, her friend, Muriel Tippett, who accepted my invitation and sang at the Echo. She was accompanied by her mother who said to her, "Harold Bischoff seems to be quite a nice young man. Has he a lady friend?" Well, he didn't have one then, but soon did have one--Muriel Tippett.

Muriel sang for me on other occasions. I once had a request from a couple to be married, for someone to sing "Because" "Because God made you mine." I asked Muriel to sing it for them but she hesitated because she felt it was beyond her range of voice. However after some hesitation and plenty of practice, she decided to oblige. It proved to be a strange request for the couple as when the bridegroom arrived he was so drunk that it was practically impossible to proceed with the service! After I pronounced them "husband and wife" the new husband threw back the veil almost knocking the bride over, and then kissed her with one long series of kisses, while she was digging him in the ribs to make him stop, in full view of the congregation! Eventually he did stop and I was able to conclude the service and, we hope, they were happy ever after!

As a young minister, in my first full time appointment after College, I decided to be a good pastor--you know--"be nice to everybody, kiss the babies" and all that. It so happened that a young married woman entered the maternity hospital to have her first baby which happened to be a boy. I went to visit her and the baby was in a different room. I asked the nurse, "Could I see Baby Alderson, please?" "Yes, certainly," she said, "you sit down by Mrs Alderson and I will bring him in to see his daddy!" I was a little more careful next time!

There was another interesting wedding at North Richmond. A young couple had arranged to be married at the bride's residence. I made sure I was there nice and early, to have everything in order to commence the ceremony at the appointed time. The bride was all dressed and ready and excited. The hour arrived but the bridegroom did not. So we waited and waited and waited. The bride began to cry--"perhaps he had had an accident on the way or perhaps he had even changed his mind!" He arrived one and a half hours late--he apologised profusely, he had only been delayed buying the ring on the way out! Tears were dried, apologies were accepted, and it turned out to be a very happy occasion.

At a funeral service I was conducting 57 years after I commenced at North Richmond, I met a man I had not seen since I left there, who said, "I can still remember a sermon you preached when you first came to North Richmond. It was 'Weighed on the Balances and Found Wanting'." We ministers often wonder what happens to a sermon after it has been preached. Often a sermon requires many hours of very exacting preparation, and there is a lot of giving of one's self on the part of the preacher in the delivery, yet it would be a fair guess to say that some of the congregation at least will seldom take it outside the four walls of the church. However I was encouraged to [17] know that at least one of my sermons is still bearing fruit over half a century! Good preaching is necessary, but we must never forget the importance of good listening. Many people would be more greatly enriched if they trained themselves to be good listeners. Occasionally I have tried to encourage this by saying when I get up to speak, "Now let us see, what was it we were speaking about last Sunday?" It is evident some haven't a clue. Others always know. It is easy to see who are the most vital members of the congregation--usually the good listeners.

Swan Hill, Victoria

My fourth ministry was at Swan Hill. A friend whom I had married there, who had also spent time in College with me, knowing Muriel and I were engaged and wanted to be married, put in a good word for me there and I was invited to take up the ministry with the three churches in the area--Swan Hill, Ultima and Woorinen.

Muriel and I were married on 27 July, 1936 at the St Kilda Church of Christ by Principal T. H. Scambler of the College of the Bible. There was perhaps one unusual feature in our marriage service and it was this--after we had taken our vows and had been pronounced "husband and wife" we knelt while the friend of ours who had actually introduced us to each other, sang the Consecration hymn "Take my life and let it be consecrated Lord to Thee". Our marriage marked not simply the committal of our lives to each other but also the joint committal of our lives in the service of Jesus Christ. We have never broken the marriage vow nor have we broken our vow of commitment to Christian service. Through the years we have been "labourers together" with God.

I stood alone in our marriage as far as the Bischoffs were concerned, as no member of the family was able to be present. We decided therefore that it would be opportune to spend our honeymoon as a visit to Queensland where my people lived so that Muriel could meet the family and the family could meet the new bride.

During our stay there I was invited by Dad to go "up the creeks", spend a night or two there, and muster the cattle ready for dipping the next day. "The creeks", as we called it, was a property owned by my father up over the Mt England range and miles away from the nearest permanent residence. The property was mountainous with a creek running through one side of it. The easiest way to muster was to catch the cattle either morning or evening as they came down to drink and hold them in a smaller paddock. While there we lived in a small but built out of sawn timber used as slabs, through which the breezes blew and the moon peeped at night. I saddled a horse and mustered the cattle leaving Muriel at the hut.

One bright moonlight evening I decided it would be a good experience for her to go "possum shooting". We would find the victims by "mooning" the trees with the idea of silhouetting the possum against the moon. Poor Muriel was a bit scared stumbling around behind me, especially when I decided to demonstrate my "dingo calling" skills to see if there were any dingoes about. We didn't find any possums or hear any dingoes! Just as well. Muriel would have been up a tree! [18]

After we had got into bed and snuggled in beneath the old German feather cover I began to tell her of some dingo and snake experiences I had had up there. One which terrified her was an occasion when my brother Norman and I spent a night there. We got into bed and as I pushed my foot down toward the bottom of the bed I felt [19]

something terribly cold and suspicious. I said, "Is that your foot, Norm?" "No", he said, "what do you mean?" I said, "Out of bed! Quick!" We searched the bed and the hut but found nothing. But next day a metre long black snake slid out from under the hut! I believe there was really "a snake in the bed".

About the middle of the night when at times you might hear a fox yelping, or a dingo howling, or an owl, or a bandicoot rushing past, or the possums in the oak trees, or the cattle bellowing, the latter proved to be our experience. Cattle had the habit of giving a horrible blood curdling bellow if they smelled blood or something like that. All of a sudden the quiet of the night was broken by bellowing, down by the creek and right by the hut. The cattle further up the hill behind the hut suddenly stampeded in what seemed to be a straight line for the hut. If ever Muriel clung closely to me it was that night! She still remembers my particular skill demonstrated there in making banana fritters on an open fire. She says her heart still burns when she thinks of eating them!

The last night of our honeymoon was spent sleeping in the car bogged in a sand hill. We had arrived at Swan Hill and were to spend the first night with friends in the country. We arrived at night and either had been given the wrong directions or misunderstood the directions given. We took the wrong road which ended up in a sand dune--so did we! We dug ourselves out in the morning and proceeded on the right road to our hosts only about a mile away. [20]

Our ministry at Swan Hill was an interesting one with three churches in a circuit--Swan Hill, Ultima about 26 km out and Woorinen about 12 km. Pastoral work included isolated visitation up to 144 km away. I once visited a man who said I was the first person he had spoken to for a fortnight or had seen for a week. It was a tremendous thrill to minister to people like that. The churches were alive and active and healthy and a very happy ministry was experienced.

It was in this area that I decided I should introduce my city bride to life in the country. She had, for example, to know how to kill a snake. So one day on our way to Ultima, I saw a snake on the side of the road and after giving her a lecture about how to kill one--never try to hit it on the head or the tail; always go for the back, a foot or so behind the head, as once you broke the back the snake was helpless and could be finished off easily and safely. Having completed the lecture, I proceeded to demonstrate. I selected a suitable stick, sneaked up quietly and whang! right in the right spot. But to my embarrassment and Muriel's delight, it was a dead snake cold and stiff.

On another occasion we were travelling to Woorinen and saw a lizard on the side of the road. I decided to give her a nature study. I very carefully took the lizard by the tail and it stretched itself full length, puffed itself up and showed us the colour inside its mouth as it hissed at us. Just as the lecture was going well the lizard suddenly went into action and freed itself from my grip, running for the nearest upright object which happened to be Muriel. She ran hard but not fast, in the sand on the side of the road. I chased the lizard with all the speed I could muster and kicked it out of the way and it went for its life in the opposite direction.

It so happened that that night I was conducting a mission service at Woorinen and just as I rose to give the Scripture reading I noticed the splendid number of children present and the thought flashed through my mind, Why not give a children's story? The text came like a flash, "Resist the devil and he will flee from you." And the story was ready made--our experience on the way out. So I told the story as dramatically as I could and there were roars of laughter as they tried to visualise Muriel running with the lizard after her. One of the men really excelled himself; as the meeting would almost come under control, the gentleman would roar again. After an initial reaction caused by the story, the continued laughter was rather at the laughter than the story. However I eventually gained control of the meeting and of myself and proceeded with the reading.

On another occasion at Swan Hill we were told the young people were to put on a concert and during a special item one of the senior young men was to come rushing in from behind the platform shouting "They're coming! They're coming!" Unfortunately he tripped, lost his upper dentures, which came rolling across the platform as he shouted, "They're coming! They're coming!"

It is traditional for a bride to be late for her wedding, but some of them overdo it. I have had one 30 minutes late. I have had a bridegroom 1½ hours late. But Swan Hill holds the record in that there I had both bride and bridegroom five hours early. They were to be married at the manse at 2 pm. At 9 am there was a knock on the door [21] and I was greeted by the couple, who had come in from the country, saying, "We had to come into town on business this morning and we wondered if we could get it over now to save us coming in again." I obliged but had to get the Salvation Army Officer from next door and a man from down the street to act as witnesses. They were "happy ever after"--we hope!

Another wedding is worth mentioning here by way of a laugh on us. There was a rather stern lady in the church who had a daughter whom she watched very closely. The young men, in fear, usually steered clear of the daughter. One night by way of a joke one of the boys bet the other he was not game to take Holly home. He accepted the challenge and unexpectedly was warmly greeted by the father. The courtship developed into going steady and one night, they told us, after going to the pictures they were on their way home walking along an unlighted street gazing into each other's faces when suddenly they fell over a cow sleeping in their way! We said, "What happened to the cow?" They said, "She just gave a very long "Moo" and ran away!" Eventually I married the happy couple and as this was back in the days when it was customary to tin-kettle by way of a house warming, we decided to tin-kettle them. As Holly was such a trick and always up to some prank, we decided to keep our plans a deep, dark secret. We gathered our kerosene tins and anything that would make a noise, and since they were in the cottage in a vineyard we had plenty of cover. We got as close to the house as we dared and then "opened fire"! The noise would have been enough to scare the devil if he had been there. The house was open. The light was on. But there was no response. We held a conference and it was decided that Muriel and I would investigate--we were to enter the house if necessary and, as they were such tricks, even look under the beds to see if they were hiding there. Suddenly there was a roar at the rear of the crowd. They had heard of our plan, had disguised themselves, taken their tins and joined in the tin-kettling!

Years before their fiftieth wedding anniversary was due, they wrote to us in New Zealand telling that they planned to celebrate and saying, "Watch yourself, boy; we want all the originals at the wedding to be there." They were when the day came, down to the flower girls! Unfortunately, a short time ago I was called to Bendigo, their home church over many years, a 350 km round trip, to officiate at the funeral of the bride who died from cancer after 52 years of marriage.

The friend mentioned previously whom I had married at Swan Hill while I was still ministering at Richmond has a good laugh on me. This was one of my first attempts at marriages and in filling in the form I put his age in the column which should have been for "children by any previous marriage" and thus gave him a bonus of 24 children. So if ever he wants to get even with me, he brings out this certificate even though I had really corrected the error.

While we were at Swan Hill it was customary for the shops to close on Wednesday afternoons and open on Saturday mornings. The local hospital was dependent on wood to fuel its heating and water requirements. It was the practice of community minded people to arrange wood bees on the various stations round about [22]

to cut the wood and cart it to the hospital. This took place on Sundays. Some of our church members were interested, but felt that Sunday was not an appropriate day for this and were otherwise involved with their worship and church appointments. They were thus excluded from participating.

I hit on the bright idea of arranging a wood bee on a Wednesday afternoon and with my early experience in timber felling and plenty of exercise and practice at the time of cutting wood for our own needs for heating and the fuel stove, I did not hesitate to sharpen my axe and lead the team. We had a very successful day and an excellent media coverage with reporters and photographers, and you can imagine my surprise (and delight) in seeing myself featured on the front page of the local paper with the caption "Clergyman swings axe like seasoned wood-cutter".

I have always been a stickler for punctuality. This practice was sharpened at College by our Principal A.R. Main. We never dared to be late for his lectures. If we were, we were publicly reprimanded. If you made an appointment with him for, say, 2 pm and you arrived three minutes later, the appointment was off--you had failed to turn up and had to start again from scratch. At College I was the bell-ringer and delighted to get everybody out of bed and to meals and lectures on time. In my ministries I always planned to be early, allowing a little time for any mishap on the way. However on one occasion in the Swan Hill district for some reason, I cannot remember why, I turned up late for a Christian Endeavour meeting at Woorinen. The secretary, Dorothy Mott, always kept minutes of the meetings and when they were read at the next meeting they contained the words "Mr Bischoff was late in arrival." When I said, "What in the world did you put that in the minutes for?" she replied, "If it wasn't recorded and confirmed by the meeting you would never admit it!" She was probably right. She believed she was making history in catching me out! [23]

We had some trouble with a hall adjacent to the church, which ran a Saturday night dance. It was customary for the hooligans to bring their beer and hide it and then drink it behind the church. On Sunday mornings we would have to gather up the bottles, often broken, and clean up the mess. We were engaged in a battle with the police who said they could do nothing unless the people concerned were actually caught in the act. One night Muriel was out while we were holding an officers' meeting in the study in the manse. She returned while we were discussing this very problem. She had come in through the church grounds and had found a nice brown bottle full of drink under the church steps at the rear. Thinking it was a bottle of beer she took it and brought it inside. She fast showed it to a friend boarding with us. "Look Miriam," she said, "Evidence!" She wondered why Miriam roared with laughter. She then came to the study where the meeting was being held and knocked on the door, pushed the bottle in and said, "Evidence, gentlemen!" again to roars of laughter--the label read--"Tarax Lemonade!"

Blackburn, Victoria

From Swan Hill we moved to Blackburn, an outer suburb of Melbourne. Our salary of £4-5-0 was increased to £5 and later to £6. We were responsible to find our own manse. We had a very happy ministry there with 37 additions to the church in four years. On the closing night of our ministry I took his confession of faith and baptised the local policeman. The church now has a membership of over 500.

The church was eager to break new ground so we hired the Home Mission marquee, pitched it on a vacant block and began an evangelistic mission. Among those who made decisions was the wife of a leading atheist in the area. She was baptised and received into fellowship. Unfortunately she was not with us for long as she took ill and died shortly after. We were greatly concerned, as we knew that some members of this family had been put to rest without a Christian burial. However we were delighted when the husband came to me and said that with respect to his late wife's faith he would like me to conduct a Christian burial service. There was one condition however and it was this, that he would speak fast at the open grave and then I would be invited to carry on. We wondered what would happen. Would this be turned into a debate? Would I be able to make a satisfactory reply to any statements he made? Would he challenge anything I said? We need not have worried, as he did little more than recite a poem written by Robert Ingersol the great infidel at the death of his brother. The poem contained these words:

Never did I feel more joy and pride and satisfaction in being a minister of the Gospel than in being able to offer hope and enlightenment in such a situation. With what joy I stepped forward and began to read of the Christian hope! "Behold I show [24]

you a mystery. We shall not all sleep but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet. For the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible and we shall be changed. For this corruptible shall put on incorruption and this mortal shall put on immortality.  . . Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written 'Death is swallowed up in victory! O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?'. . . Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" (1 Cor 15:51-57). And Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life. He that believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever lives and believes in me shall never die." (John 14:25, 26).

Wellington South, New Zealand

From Blackburn we moved to New Zealand to the church at Wellington South. The phone rang one night and the question was, "How would you like to go to New Zealand?" It was a minister who had ministered over there and he had a request from the church to recommend a married couple for ministry there. He thought we would be suitable. Muriel was at that time president of the Christian Women's Fellowship of the Churches of Christ in Victoria and Tasmania, the youngest they had ever had, and I had shown some interest in evangelistic work in a couple of church and tent missions. He thought we were just what they were wanting. I was staggered at the suggestion and said, "Well, I have never even thought of it." We talked it over and prayed it over and felt it would be good ministerial experience to go there for a few years and then return to an Australian church. Our name was sent and we were invited.

This was wartime, 1943, and shipping was difficult. Sailings were not advertised and daily contact had to be kept with shipping offices. We had to be ready when they said "Come." We were booked from a "port in Australia to a port in New Zealand" and we did not know which ones. Fortunately for us Blackburn had no minister coming and we were able to stay until called. We were farewelled on 19 March but did not get our call until mid-July and that was to go to Sydney to report. [25]

People were shocked to discover that we were going to a place where there had been severe earthquakes, with the one in 1931 still fresh in their minds. This quake had shattered buildings in Napier and surrounding districts, killing 256 people. We assured them we were hundreds of miles from the earthquake centre. But the morning our resignation was announced to the church news, came over the radio "The people in Wellington, New Zealand were rudely awakened with an earthquake shock this morning." However we proceeded.

We were forbidden to advertise any departure or arrival date but we advised the church in New Zealand that we were coming by sending a coded message, "Congratulations as you welcome your new preacher on Sunday, l August" giving the date of expected arrival.

We had had a request from a member of the Wellington South church to act as guardians to, and bring with us, his daughter aged 111/2 years who had come to Australia with her grandmother at a time when her mother was ill, with the idea that the mother would come and get her when well enough. She had been stranded in Australia for four years because of the war. We had never met the daughter before but made the contact and agreed to the request. The girl was Jean Delaney who later served as a missionary from New Zealand Churches of Christ to the then New Hebrides for twelve years. Jean was loudly spoken and when we were well on our way in the train [26] from Melbourne to Albury where we had to change trains, she "bedded down" for a sleep sitting up. To the amusement of all in the compartment she said loudly, "Mr Bischoff, do I have to say my prayers?" And when we changed trains at Albury, she said in a voice that all could hear, "Do I have to say my prayers again?"

When we arrived in Sydney and reported to the shipping office we were told to get accommodation and report daily. We did this for eight days, by which time funds had almost run out. Then we boarded the Brisbane Star, a cargo vessel, which was the first boat for ten weeks to carry women and children. There were only twenty-one passengers on board. There was a touch of the reality of war on the Brisbane Star, which bore the marks of having her nose blown off in the Battle of Malta and had a plaque commemorating the event. We zigzagged across the Tasman dodging submarines and sighted land at the Bluff, the southernmost point of New Zealand, turned up the west coast to Cook Strait, sailed right past Wellington where we were due to land, and then went up the east coast to Napier and landed right where the big earthquake had been! The town which had been largely levelled in the quake was being rebuilt. Acres of land came up out of the sea which are now the airport and a housing area.

We spent our first Sunday's worship in a house church at Napier and then travelled by train back to Wellington, which we had passed a few days before, to find many of the buildings in scaffolding following the earthquake shock. So much for being miles away from the earthquake centre. Wellington has about 100 tremors a year and they can be scary.

My first service at Wellington South was a broadcast service. I had never led one before and was not very concerned because I believed no one would bother listening to a broadcast church service. This was the Sunday evening service. I preached as powerfully as I could on "Tempted to Quit": one thing you must not quit your determination to do the right thing; two things you cannot quit--the penalty of your sin and your responsibility to make a personal decision for Christ; and three things you ought to quit yourself, your sin and your procrastination in making a commitment to Christ. I received thirty-two letters after the broadcast from as far afield as Norfolk Island, the New Hebrides, New South Wales and Victoria. Many of them indicated a new commitment to Jesus Christ, some asked for a poem I had quoted and a drover in outback New South Wales testified that he had listened to the service while droving his sheep and in the quietness and loneliness of the night had committed his life to Jesus Christ.

It was while working at Wellington South that I felt I would like to do some extra-mural university study, working toward a degree over a period of several years. I applied to the University and was assessed and accepted for study but I actually opted out before I commenced as in reassessing my work load I could see that I had no possible hope of doing justice to such a course with the load I was carrying, which included--preaching two sermons each Sunday, teaching the Bible Class, conducting a weeknight Bible study and prayer meeting, taking two classes for religious [27]

instruction at the Intermediate and Primary schools and running a weekly Children's Happy Hour with an average of 320 children present, and taking my turn on a roster basis for Morning Devotions and the Children's Sunday Service on the local radio. And of course doing the pastoral visitation! I let the matter drop then and never considered it again, as I always seemed to have plenty to do without it.

A special feature of our work here was the weekly children's Happy Hour (mentioned above) on Tuesdays after school. The initial program was for ten days when attendances increased from one hundred and twenty on the fast day to over five hundred. We started in the hall, moved into the church and finished by opening the doors between the two and using both buildings. This initial programme was shared by the Dominion Youth Director of our churches, Gordon Stirling. There were so many children arriving from everywhere at the one time that we were given a traffic officer to cover the commencement period.

I decided because of this initial success to conduct a weekly session. I was assisted by Muriel and a middle-aged woman and a teenage boy who assisted with the projector. The weekly sessions began with 90 and increased to an average 320. We distributed tickets to register new members, clipped them at the door and issued a badge after so many attendances. They registered age, birthday, and Sunday School. The programme was religious with some educational films and cartoons mixed in.

This work gave me a standing as a worker with children and I conducted several vacation schools up and down New Zealand from Auckland to Invercargill.

My emphasis at Wellington South church was definitely evangelical and some fifty-six members were added over a five year period. The Sunday School had [28] increased from 37 to 80 members. Youth work was strong with Scouts, Guides, Brownies and Cubs as well as a youth group.

St Andrew Street, Dunedin, New Zealand

After five years we were offered an extension of ministry to eight years at Wellington South but we felt we did not want to stay out of Australia too long as churches may not want an older minister. But as we were thinking of returning home, we received a call from the city church at St Andrew Street, Dunedin with the suggestion that a couple of years with them would be good added experience for us. The church was also passing through a difficult and unhappy time and several people used persuasion with us, feeling that our particular skills and approaches could help the church there so we accepted a limited call with the idea of then returning home.

The Happy Hour was a feature of our work there also. The Sunday School on our arrival was practically nil but we were able to raise an attendance at Happy Hours of 120.

The local committee of the New Zealand Council for Christian Education in Schools wanted to employ a full-time organiser and supervisor. I was a member of the local committee. The position was advertised and there were 23 applications and enquiries. The chairman of the committee was the lecturer in Christian Education at Knox Theological College and his daughter used to attend my Happy Hours. He suggested that I should be applying for the job rather then judging the applicants. So I took the hint and applied, and was appointed. The story of this is told in another part of this writing under "para-ministries".

Marrickville, New South Wales

After six years with the New Zealand Council for Christian Education, I received "out of the blue" an invitation to Marrickville, NSW and feeling as we did before that we should not stay permanently in New Zealand, we accepted. Marrickville was a healthy, happy inner-suburban church in Sydney and we enjoyed our stay there. Among the [29] It was this emphasis on and success in children's work that actually led to my going out of pastoral ministry for a period.

young people we ministered to there was Dennis Nutt, who became lecturer and Vice-Principal of the Churches of Christ Theological College, Carlingford, NSW, and Diana Catts who is a missionary and Bible translator in Papua New Guinea.

Perhaps one of the highlights of our Sydney experience at Marrickville was the privilege of sharing in a Dr Billy Graham crusade. Quite a number of the congregation went through the training sessions and Muriel entered the campaign as a counsellor and I as a supervisor. During the early part of the crusade our enthusiasm was dampened one night by the heavens opening and releasing on us one of those great Sydney downpours. There was nothing to do but sit through it. No one else moved--neither did we. There was nowhere to go anyhow if we had moved. Needless to say, our best clothes never looked quite the same again.

It was Muriel's privilege during the crusade to counsel a lady with a German background and through the Bible Society to procure for her the Bible in her own language which she could more readily read and understand.

Muriel also counselled a lady from the Sydney North Shore who was really an Anglican and remained such until her later years. She kept in touch with us during the years even though we moved to New Zealand. She was always full of the highest praise for what Muriel had done for her. In later years she moved to Adelaide where she came in touch with the Brighton Church of Christ and on the thirty-seventh anniversary of her experience in Sydney she phoned us at Frankston and said that she had decided to come into membership with the Brighton church and to be baptised (immersed). As she was now a frail old lady walking with the aid of two sticks, a special weekday service was arranged for family and friends to share with her in this experience. As we were free and as Muriel had played such a large part in counselling her, not only at the crusade but during the years since, she felt she would like to be with her in this experience. So we set out for Adelaide at the appointed time.

As she was unable to enter the baptistry because of disability, two elders of the church lifted her in their arms into the baptistry where she was immersed in the [30] hands of the minister and an assistant and then handed back to the elders. A very meaningful communion service was held and she was received into membership.

While at Marrickville we had a regular church broadcast, on a roster basis with other churches, which was always stimulating and challenging to me. I served here as secretary of the Churches of Christ Ministers' Association in NSW, and as member of the Christian Union Committee and the state Aborigine Mission Committee of the Churches of Christ in NSW.

After three years of ministry in Marrickville we received a persuasive letter from New Zealand inviting me to apply for a position as Secretary or Director of the Bible Society of Otago and Southland, their first such full time appointment. The story of this position, which lasted until retirement after a period of fourteen years, is told under "para-ministries".

After a few months' rest after retirement from the Bible Society at age 65 years I was appointed as full-time General Secretary of the Associated Churches of Christ in New Zealand, which position I held for six years. This story is told under "para-ministries" also.

Brighton, Victoria

After retirement from the above, in my seventy-first year, I received an enquiry from the Ocean Grove Church of Christ in Victoria, which was a small group meeting without a church building and without a manse. The idea was to live in the area and serve in a part-time capacity. This appealed to us as it would have enabled us to return home. As you remember we didn't want to stay in New Zealand too long but actually spent 33 years there altogether. Perhaps this was it! But no, on further consideration we were not keen on living so far south and the church decided in consultation with headquarters that they were not ready for this move yet.

Within a couple of weeks, however, we received a letter from the Brighton Church of Christ, Victoria, offering a one year half-time appointment-preaching

twice on Sundays, taking a week night meeting and doing the pastoral visitation! Halftime! They had a manse we could go into and would give some help in removal costs. We were delighted to accept this offer and soon found ourselves on the way to this interim ministry. There was to be some student assistance with the young people.

After looking us over at my age of 71, they said I was more active then they thought I might be at that age, and as they had no contact as yet for a permanent appointment they invited us to stay another year--they said "Don't do anymore work, you are working full time now, but we will pay you full time". We were delighted and accepted. The manse was the best ever for us and was eventually sold for $320,000 to build afresh near the church. The age group at Brighton suited us admirably and we thoroughly enjoyed it as instead of the usual pattern of more or less expecting the minister's wife to organise the ladies' work, the women there said, "We don't want you to feel you have any responsibility. All we want is to have your interest and presence." And that's how it worked.

The period at Brighton offered us the opportunity of looking around and locating a house in an area that suited our needs and was within our means. All things added up to the purchase of a house at Frankston.

Chadstone, Victoria

Our plans to move into our house at Frankston at the end of our Brighton ministry did not eventuate, as the elders of the Chadstone church phoned and asked if they could have a word with me. They were planning full time ministry in the future but wanted a little breathing space as they could not quite afford it, so we were invited on a three-quarters basis for two years and we moved into the manse at the church in Waverley Road and continued to lease our property at Frankston. This was a good, steady ministry of consolidation and encouragement and we enjoyed everything but the traffic on Waverley Road day and night with about 25,000 vehicles whizzing past every day. We were told we established the best lawn ever at the church and the best garden ever at the manse.

It was here at Chadstone one night that I made my debut as a hero. I had been invited to conduct the closing devotions at the Good Companion's club. I walked across from the manse at the appropriate time only to find the church hall door locked and more than usual excitement inside. Having a key to the building, I quietly slipped it into the lock and opened the door and stepped inside to the sudden scattering and screaming of the girls. One would have thought the devil had suddenly appeared.

When the shock was over I was surrounded by about 15 girls all trying to tell me the same thing at the same time. Failing to understand what they were trying to tell me, I asked them several times to repeat the story but it still didn't sound right. It sounded as if they were saying, "There's a leg in the corner up behind the shed." So I tried to quieten them and asked, "A leg? Did you say a leg?" Then gesturing I indicated a leg cut off at the hip and said again, "Did you say a leg?" "Yes", was the reply, "There's a leg up in the corner behind the shed." [32] "Well," I said, "I have a torch, let us go and see what it is all about." So with torch in hand, followed by 15 excited, jittery, ready to scream at any moment girls, I bravely tip-toed up to the corner behind the shed and flashed the torch. "There's nothing here," I said. "I can't see a thing." "What is that white thing over there?" came the question. "That's a piece of paper that's fallen out of the incinerator," I said. "What's under that dead branch over there?" was another question. Lifting it up bravely I said, "Nothing. I put it there. The vandals broke it off a tree a few nights ago." Satisfied there was nothing there, the girls returned to the hall.

But that wasn't the end. "There's a mark of a man's hand on the window in the girls' toilet" was the claim. "Well," I said, "I'm not allowed to go into the girls toilet while there are girls around. I'll have a look tomorrow, and see what it is all about." However they were assured by a statement from their leader, "A man might have put his hand there when he was painting the church."

Being re-assured, the girls settled in for devotions. The leader thanked me for coming. The girls gave me an enthusiastic round of applause and acclaimed me as a hero for solving their problem.

Montrose, Victoria

After two years we eventually moved into our home at Frankston. Retired at last! Fifty four years after commencing my first student ministry. But no, again--after six months, during which time there was an increasing voluntary work with the Frankston church, there came a visit from the elders of the Montrose church up in the Dandenongs. They had lost their minister and needed a new minister and a new church building. They had called in the past principal of our College, E. L. Williams, for consultation and he offered in his retirement a year's service on the condition that they banked a full-time salary and the manse rent each week towards a building fund. But unfortunately he had a stroke and never started. A substitute was found for a few months and then they came to me, and as we were on a pension we offered to give six months' assistance with travelling expenses only. At the end of the period another year was added. The little church grew to be more and more packed each Sunday with seats up the front near the platform facing inwards and seats in the aisle. One Sunday we even had the side doors open. The Church School or "Sunday School" was held on a weekday and thus many of the Sunday church attendances included families. In the period membership increased from fifty-three to eighty-seven and the building fund from $2,000 to $64,000 including what they had saved, what they had earned and what was given to them. A new building was planned and contracted but because of delays it was not completed until early the following year. The church is still thriving and the membership is now about one hundred and fifty. What a privilege it was to work with a growing church. New people were moving into the area and were "shopping around" and once they visited Montrose we were on their doorstep immediately, usually in the afternoon. The old church was given to a Restaurant in the area and is now renovated and used for weddings. It is right at the site where the baptisms of the early members took place. [33]

One of our delights here was to go to a different family each week for Sunday dinner, enabling us to meet the whole family and get to know them. Montrose is 52 km from Frankston.

Frankston, Victoria

After this period of eighteen months' assistance to Montrose, travelling each weekend from Frankston, we were now prepared to settle down simply as members of the Frankston church.

Retired at last? No, again! Frankston was a growing church and had at that time a senior minister, a pastoral minister, and a theological student to assist with work among the young people. This later grew to three full-time ministers--a senior minister, a minister for adult activities, and a minister for the youth and family aspects.

The pastoral minister, at the time of settling in, asked if I could give some assistance by visiting the "shut-ins". I was happy to do that. Then he thought perhaps I could do a little more--could I help with the elderly? He thought of them as the over 65s. He underlined 150 names on the directory list. Yes, I was willing to do that. Then the senior minister said, "Harold is doing a marvellous job. He's looking after the over 60s!" Then I saw that I was listed as one of the ministry team, having been "officially" appointed by the Board in an honorary capacity.

After six years, at the time of writing, I am still serving in that capacity, listed as "pastoral minister to the elderly". I do this because I want to. I am interested in people and their needs. I like to see them in their homes, in their setting, as that helps me to understand them and see their needs. I often cover up to sixty contacts in a month. I take regular Bible teaching periods at the Greenways retirement village which is managed by the church and I act as convenor for that. From time to time I speak at services arranged at the Long Island retirement village and Baptist village, Baxter. There are also requests for guest preaching and anniversaries. Dealing with elderly people, funerals also often come my way.

Muriel naturally becomes involved in all this. She has been active through the years and hostesses a drop-in on Wednesdays of forty to fifty people, and until recently, led a weekly brief devotional period for them. This is now shared on a fortnightly basis. Muriel is also vice-president of the Christian Women's Fellowship and a member of the indoor bowling group.

Frankston is in the Melbourne metropolitan area less than an hours' drive from the city. It has a population of over 90,000 and is the gateway to the Mornington Peninsula. It has on its doorstep some of the finest tourist attractions, all within an hours' drive. It is at present completing a $160,000,000 upgrading of the central business area with several additional projects of $40,000,000. It is becoming one of the largest and finest cities outside central Melbourne. It is well supplied with both public and private hospitals. [34]

MINISTRIES WITH CHRISTIAN ORGANISATIONS

The New Zealand Council for Christian Education in Schools

The New Zealand Council for Christian Education in Schools was formed as part of the New Zealand Council of Churches and took the place of the previous Bible in Schools League. Branches of the NZCCE were formed in each of the provinces. At the time of the formation there was a fervent desire to improve the standard of religious teaching in the schools and to maximise coverage. Each instructor at this time decided on the particular syllabus they would follow.

The law at this time was that education was secular i.e. teachers were not allowed to teach religion in class. There was however a loop-hole in the law which allowed religious teaching to take place. The rule was that there must be three consecutive hours of teaching each day. Outside those three hours the School Committee was free to decide how the time could be used. This meant that with committee approval on a certain day of the week, school could officially commence at, say, 9.30 am but the children could be assembled at 9 am and the first half-hour dedicated to religious teaching. Attendance was not compulsory, as parents could withdraw their children if they objected to their receiving the teaching. This was quite legal and quite acceptable throughout the schools. Most of the teaching was done by ministers with some lay assistance.

The Presbyterian Synod of Otago and Southland had initially established certain trusts with income to be used for the religious aspect of education, when they belonged together, but when education became secular a new outlet had to be found for the fund. The Synod used part of the proceeds for ministerial training. They then approached the NZCCE in Otago and Southland, the two southernmost provinces of the Dominion, and offered to pay the salary of a Supervisor if one could be appointed.

I was the Churches of Christ representative on the local branch of the NZCCE. As mentioned before under ministry at Wellington South and St Andrew Street, Dunedin, I had a considerable interest in Christian education with children having run a Happy Hour Club on Tuesdays after school at Wellington South with an average attendance of 320 and a similar one at St Andrew Street averaging 120. I had also conducted Happy Hours in various areas in New Zealand and conducted regular broadcasts on national stations in both Wellington and Dunedin as "The Children's Sunday Service."

The position of Supervisor was advertised and there were 23 enquiries or applications. The Chairman of the Committee, Dr J. D. Salmond, was lecturer in education at Knox Theological Hall, Dunedin. His daughter used to attend my Happy Hours and take home a good report. He suggested to me personally that I should be applying for the job and not judging the applicants. I took the hint, applied for the job, and was appointed.

The responsibilities required the selection and recommendation of a syllabus that could be used by all instructors so that there would be a better standard of [35]

teaching and more uniformity throughout the area. It meant soliciting the services of lay people, ministers, and teachers who could, as the teaching was "outside school hours", take their own or other classes; preparing a library of teaching aids such as posters, film strips, and flannelgraph stories based on the syllabus and generally advising and training teachers in teaching methods. Students in the Churches of Christ Theological College, Glen Leith, Dunedin, and of Knox Theological Hall, Opoho, Dunedin, were required to do a year of Bible teaching in the schools as part of their training, using the materials and syllabus supplied by my office and I would lecture on the subject in each of the colleges each year.

The position required a good deal of travelling, interviewing headmasters, ministers, prospective teachers and committees. This added up to approximately 21,000 miles a year.

I selected the Teachers' Guides to Religious Education, edited by Ernest Hayes, as used in the English schools. They gave an excellent coverage of the Bible graded for all ages, and included the lesson narrative, background material and class work for each lesson. They also included post-Biblical characters and church institutions. They were perhaps a little "modern" in places but generally quite good. [36]

My library of teachers' aids was catalogued and the list sent out to all teachers with order forms, and postings were made each week for the next week's lessons.

The Dunedin Public Library at this time added a Christian Education section to its services which included Biblical teaching aids such as books, posters, film strips, films and records. I served as secretary, purchaser and advisor to that department and we were able to take advantage of much of that material for our purposes.

I also pioneered Activity Books for all grades based on the Teachers' Guides, and suitable books with work for composite classes where a teacher in a country or small school would have all classes in one session. These included graded activity for all children.

The Activity Books included drawings or sketches as illustrations which sometimes had to be completed by drawing "from dot to dot" or perhaps being coloured. There were memory verses, questions to be answered, scrambled letters of the names of the main characters in the story so that the children would have to sort out the correct spelling. As I am not capable of even drawing a cat, most of the illustrations had to be copied, cut on stencils and duplicated. This was all done in my office at home with the voluntary help of Muriel. These were a God-send to many teachers who otherwise bored the children by trying to talk for 30 minutes. They were of course only available to the schools in my area. However, I found that ministers and teachers who had used them in my area and then moved to another province used to write begging for supplies.

As I was the only supervisor of such work anywhere in New Zealand, this was pioneering which was not done in any other region.

The Hayes Guides, as we called them, began to be used throughout New Zealand. Their main weakness was that the seasons in them were wrong and it was gradually felt that we should have a New Zealand syllabus. I was on the Committee to design this, and we were instructed by the NZCCE to prepare Activity Books based on the pattern of my experiment in Otago and Southland. I was invited to prepare the material for Forms Three and Four. These then became the responsibility of the New Zealand council and were printed professionally and available throughout the whole country.

Having completed six fascinating years of pioneering in this respect and now having the New Zealand Council's new syllabus and activity materials completed, I began to feel I had reached the end of an achievement and started to think of home again. We had gone to New Zealand for three years initially and had now been there 14 years. Surprisingly, as if in answer to prayer, I received an invitation from the church at Marrickville, Sydney to minister there as already mentioned. Muriel had had a cancer operation on her leg and had been in hospital for a ten week period and we felt that going "back home" was the right thing to do. So we accepted the invitation and re-crossed the Tasman. [37]

Bible Society

After three years at Marrickville, however, New Zealand began to reach out after us again. Bible Society work in New Zealand really had two societies at that time--The British and Foreign Bible Society founded from London and the Bible Society of Otago and Southland established by the early Scottish settlers in the interests of the National Bible Society of Scotland. The Societies complemented each other and remained in their areas. Half the proceeds in Otago and Southland went to the BFBS and half to the NBSS.

The BSOS had been carried on by voluntary workers and had reached the stage where they wanted to appoint their first full time Organising Secretary/Director. Having worked in the area for six years with NZCCE and being acceptable to all churches, having a flair for organising and acceptance for hard work, they felt I was the man for the job. They sent me the advertisement for the position with a friendly hint that if I applied I would be appointed. I applied and was appointed, and once again we crossed the Tasman and went back to Dunedin.

The practise of the Society at this time was to arrange an annual collection on a house-to-house basis with voluntary collectors. This would be arranged by having what we called a "group secretary" in each area who would divide the district into sections and arrange a collector for each. My task was to find the Group Secretary and give whatever encouragement and support I could in finding the necessary collectors. I was also required as far as possible to arrange meetings for the collectors to encourage them in the work and inform them of the work of the Bible Societies in the translation, publication and distribution of the Scriptures. I would also arrange District rallies and have a regular program of promoting the work from the pulpits of all non-Catholic denominations. While the Catholics were not generally included there was a measure of support, and I used to visit Holy Cross College at Mosgiel each year as the students used the Bible Society Hebrew and Greek texts. This gave an opportunity of acquainting them with the work of the Society. They were regular visitors to our Book Room. There was no problem with the churches generally as the work was widely accepted. This meant regular travel amounting to about 21,000 miles per year and acceptance in the city and larger churches.

In addition to this our office in Dunedin gradually grew into a Bible House. My office assistant/typist would attend to this while I was away in the field. Muriel assisted me in this way in a part-time capacity for some part of the time. I of course had to manage the office and Book Room. You will understand by this that it was a full-time job indeed.

With a healthy Scots Presbyterian background in the area, the work was well supported and we actually held a world record for our per capita contributions. On a per capita basis, New Zealand contributed more than any other country to Bible Society work and our area contributed more than any other area in New Zealand on that basis.

The success of the areas depended a good deal on finding the right Group Secretary. On one occasion we found this particularly difficult at Port Chalmers, at the [38] entrance to Otago Harbour. I was encouraged to write a letter to be considered at the Annual meeting of the Presbyterian church there. The letter was considered and shelved. There was one lady there who was vitally interested but felt "somebody else" should do it. She went home from the meeting really very very angry that a secretary could not be found. She decided to pray about it and told God that He should lay His hand upon someone and compel them to do it. In the meantime someone had recommended to me that she should be approached. So the next day I decided to visit her. I knocked on the door and when she appeared I said "I am looking for a good Group Secretary for the Bible Society collectors in this area and you have been highly recommended to me as a possibility." She laughed and said "I prayed earnestly about this last night and asked God to lay His hand on someone. Looks like he did. Looks like it's me." She accepted and did an extra good job. If you don't want to be involved yourself, it can be dangerous to pray too fervently about a particular task. God might choose you to do it and who better could He choose than someone who is interested and concerned.

While there were at this time many Bible Societies throughout the world such as the British and Foreign Bible Society, The American Bible Society, the National Bible Society of Scotland and others, they were working more and more in partnership and never in competition. They agreed that work in various areas of the world should be the responsibility of particular societies. This soon led to the formation of the world organisation called the United Bible Societies (UBS). The Bible Society of Otago and Southland merged with the British and Foreign Bible Society and became the Bible Society in New Zealand. This took place at the time of the Centenary of the BSOS and I then became a regional secretary of the BSNZ.

In recognition of my work with the Bible Society in Otago and Southland founded by the NBSS I was made a Vice-President of the National Bible Society of Scotland which position I still hold and regularly receive Christmas greetings and United Bible Societies reports and materials.

At the time of the Bible Society Centennial celebrations of the BSOS I was entrusted with the responsibility of compiling a Centennial History of the Society. This was published as an attractive little booklet whose production I had just taken as a matter of course. On publication the book was registered, and I was soon surprised to be receiving requests from libraries in places such as England, America, Canada and Australia for copies of "my book". I had suddenly become a recognised author! A.H. Reed a publisher and author in New Zealand who had a special interest in autographs and autographed copies of books by great authors, surprised me by requesting an autographed copy of the book for his special collection in the Dunedin Public Library!

Working with a world organisation such as the Bible Society gave us great privileges at times, in having in our home and in our company as we travelled from meeting to meeting such personalities as Martin Niemoller of Germany, renowned for his stand against the Nazis; Chandu Ray, Bishop of Pakistan who later led the South East Asia Christian conference; Archbishop Donald Coggan of England; Edwin [39] Robertson, noted English broadcaster, and Bible Society leaders from various parts of the world. This was a great privilege indeed.

In our support of the National Bible Society of Scotland we took as a special project the raising of funds for the translation, printing and publication of a New Testament in Murut for a particular tribe in Sarawak in the North of Borneo. When the New Testament was completed I was invited to go to Lawas in Sarawak to present the rust printed copy of their Scriptures, and at the same time look at Bible Society work in Papua New Guinea, Hong Kong and North Sumatra and West Java in Indonesia. I was to spend several weeks abroad while Muriel, who was in the office at that time, kept her eye on things at home. This was in 1962. My first port of call was to be, New Guinea.

New Guinea

I called at Sydney on the way and was able to attend the Church Conference there, which happened to be in session at that time, and renew acquaintances with many of our friends from the time of our ministry at Marrickville.

I then proceeded to Port Moresby and hoped while there, after looking at Bible Society work, to contact my nephew and his wife--Alwyn and Fay Neuendorf, who were with what was then the Unevangelised Fields Mission. Unfortunately it rained so heavily that I was unable to get a flight to their area as the airstrips were all unusable. I visited only port Moresby and Lae over a period of about ten days.

My first impression of New Guinea was that it was a land of contrast. It was one of the most remarkable countries in the world in that while it had been known to European civilisation for over four and a half centuries, it had been influenced by it to any great extent only in the last fifty years at that time and even then only on the fringes.

This led to a tremendous contrast in its people. On the one hand you had the most primitive native living under stone age conditions, completely cut off from the world. New tribes had been discovered as late as 1954 and in 1959 we were told that "tribesmen had captured, killed and eaten the village policeman!" There were areas at that time which missionaries were not permitted to enter because of the potential danger.

On the other hand you had the most advanced nationals who had stepped out of the stone age into the twentieth century who were controlling their own municipal affairs, elected to the House of Representatives, and recommended by the United Nations for self-government in the very near future. I thought this to be absolutely remarkable.

There was also a contrast in religion. On the one hand there was the primitive native worshipping the spirits of the dead, living in superstition and fear. On the other hand there was the virile Christian worshipping the true and living God and living in peace and hope.

Papua New Guinea was also a land of confusion. The Administration claimed that there were over 700 languages and dialects in the territory, 654 of which [40] had already been listed. Many or perhaps even most of these were mutually unintelligible. It is estimated that there are about 3,000 languages in the world and this means that almost one quarter of them are found in New Guinea. Some groups consisted of only 50 or 60 people while others had 50 or 60 thousand.

I paid a visit to the market while there, where perhaps two to three thousand people had gathered. There was a quietness and lack of conversation. The sellers sat on the bare ground in the hot sun with their meagre supply of goods for sale--a few betelnuts, bananas, paw paws, pumpkins or potatoes, pineapples, coconuts, fish and what-have-you. Everything was priced in shillings--one shilling, two shillings, three shillings. I wondered why, and then it dawned on me that perhaps not a hundred of them would fully understand my language and not a hundred would understand each other's. There could possibly be dozens of language groups represented there.

On the Sunday morning I was to go to the London Missionary Society church service but it rained so heavily they did not even ring the church bell. Instead they planned a service for the hostel girls in the Superintendent's house. There were 25 girls there. They all understood and spoke English. I was introduced and invited to speak about the Bible Society. In introducing me, the Superintendent asked for a show of hands for language groups--there were six language groups among 25 girls.

On the Sunday afternoon I went with the prison chaplain to the prison. We sang hymns in two languages and read the Scriptures in three, but it was evident that several still did not understand. After the service I spoke to a young man carrying a Motu New Testament. He spoke a few words in broken English, launched out into Pidgin and then as his heart became more burdened, broke out into his own language. We tried six people before we could get an interpreter. What he wanted to say was that he could not fully understand the Scriptures in Motu and urgently needed them in his own tongue.

To get the exact meaning of Scripture was not always easy. I later had the Translations Advisor from London visiting us in Dunedin and Dr Lyn Calvert, a Presbyterian missionary translator working in New Guinea, happened to be home on holiday. We had several sessions together and I remember her telling him about her problems in translating John 3:16 into the Ei language. They had no word that would adequately express the meaning of "begotten" so she could not put "only begotten Son". She thought then that she would have to be content with "only Son" but she discovered that "only" meant "favourite", and as they had no other word, she had to use it and add in brackets "(He had no other son)".

Some suggested that "pidgin" should be used. In New Guinea proper there was "Pidgin English", now called "Neo-Melanesian", and in Papua "Motu" which is again more of a police or trade language, but while these are widely spoken and have Scriptures in them they are not what we might call the language of the heart. The Secretary there took me into his office, opened the drawer of a filing cabinet, waved his hand over it and said, "One hundred and twenty languages in which Scriptures have begun to be translated." The number later increased to 150. [41]

At the time of writing it is stated that 80% of Papua New Guinea's 3.5 million people are illiterate and the Government has a literacy programme "to reach as many of its 800 languages as are deemed viable". It has a higher number of missionaries in proportion to population than any other country.

One of the first mistakes I made when I arrived in Papua New Guinea was to go into a chemist's shop to buy some tablets and hand over £1 note. When I looked at the change I noticed some shilling pieces with holes in them and, thinking that someone had drilled holes in them and had been wearing them as a decoration or something like that, I handed them back and suggested they might give me good ones. However, I was given to understand that they were genuine shillings minted by the Administration so that they could be strung and saved and carried by tribes people.

They told me all sorts of stories about the shilling. They said that the banks lost one million shillings a year and that this possibly represented the savings of the people.

Two Papuans are said to have bought a car from a European and when they came to pay for it they presented the price in shilling pieces. The man looked at them with a worried look and scratched his head in bewilderment. They said "All right Boss. Not enough there we have more at home."

Two men are said to have gone into the bank and deposited £300 in shilling pieces. After about three months they returned, filled in a withdrawal form and handed it to the teller. You know how the teller stands back and says, "How would you like it?" "In shilling pieces", they said. After he had gone to the Reserve Bank and replenished his supply and carefully counted out £300 in shilling pieces they thanked him profusely and said, "Put it back again. We just wanted to make sure it was still here".

I left Papua New Guinea thinking of it as an amazing, fascinating country, full of contrast, confusion and challenge, with its people gradually awakening from sleep, dazzled as they looked out of the darkness into the bright light of a new world. Their minds were outstretched seeking for guidance. The people there needed missionaries, translators, teachers, doctors, nurses and funds. It was for me on my return to make this known and see what could be done to help.

Borneo

I then touched down at Manila and proceeded to Hong Kong where I spent the Easter period and then moved on to Lawas, Sarawak, via Jessleton in North Borneo. It was at Lawas that I was to meet the translators of the New Testament in Murut and present the first printed copy at a special church service on Bible Sunday. I was to stay with the missionary-translator Madge Belcher and her husband. They were representatives of the Borneo-Evangelical Mission with the Sidang Injel Borneo--the Evangelical Church, Borneo.

My fist meeting with the Borneo people was with a small group of church leaders. There was Balang, the Vice-President of the District church; Tama, the acting [42] pastor of the local church; Tubu, the informant to Mrs Belcher in the translation of the New Testament; Udan, my interpreter; and Madge and Alan Belcher. It is worth saying something about these men from Borneo.

Tama was a very colourful character. He was a Murut not a Kalabit and we were really in Kalabit territory here. The Muruts had been the first of the tribes to be touched by the early missionaries and at that time were a filthy, drunken, immoral tribe described by the government as "a dying race, beyond redemption". But within a few years they were completely converted and changed through the reading of the Scriptures and were ultimately responsible for taking the Christian faith to ten neighbouring tribes.

The amazing thing about Tama was that he was now accepted as the pastor of a Kalabit church. He was a friendly, warm-hearted man with stretched ear lobes which hung well down below the shoulder line. (It was the custom of these people to pierce the earlobes when young and hang weights on them to stretch them down--the longer they got the prouder they were of them). Tama's were weighted down with heavy brass rings. He wore a plaited necklace of beads, a nice red pendant, and his lovely infectious smile was made more beautiful by his gold plated teeth.

He was a man of many parts. When they arranged a concert in my honour on the Wednesday evening I found him sitting on the platform skilfully strumming his native-style guitar called a sape. When they barracked him a little he slipped away and changed into his national costume which was in the rich colours of red and black. With a little encouragement he put on a song and dance for us with a chorus of Kalabit girls in the background. He sang in the native language of course and when I asked my interpreter what he was singing about he said it was a song of thanksgiving and praise for the coming of the Murut New Testament.

Tubu, the national assistant in the translation (Bible translators always use a national assistant to make sure the translation is correct and makes sense) was interested in only one thing that night and that was the printed New Testament. Up to that stage the only Scripture they had was in duplicated form. He had voluntarily given two hours a day over a period of years so that his people might have the New Testament in their language. Sometimes he got discouraged and went back to his village but the people would say, "Tubu, what are you doing here? You must go back and help. We are utterly dependent on you and we are anxiously awaiting the New Testament in our language." He was really excited that night to see a printed New Testament in his language for the first time and said to Mrs Belcher, "We will have to do the Old Testament now!"

It was interesting to see them plan the service. They had no sooner begun than Mrs Belcher looked over to me and said, "They want to sing 'Happy Day' (O happy day that fixed my choice On Thee my Saviour and my God.  . .) as soon as you have presented the New Testament in their language." They asked me what Scripture reading I would like and when I said I would like a few verses from Romans 10 they said, "Good. Tubu can read that from the new printed New Testament." But when I [43]

said I would also like a few verses from Deuteronomy 6, they looked at me in bewilderment. "We have no Deuteronomy 6 in our language," they said. But they soon had an idea. Tubu and Mrs Belcher could translate it and Tubu could read it from the typescript! So that night Deuteronomy 6 was translated into Murut and read for the first time at the Sunday service.

Udan Rangat was to be my interpreter and we had a rehearsal the next day so that he could grapple with any problems I might raise. Preaching through an interpreter is dynamite! You might say quite a sentence and he will dismiss it in a few words. Then you might make quite a short statement and the interpreter could go on for a few minutes explaining it. Another problem of depending on an interpreter was that while he always told them everything I said, he didn't always tell me everything they said. However, we got on quite well as we went along.

When the Sunday came the Belchers and I went across to the service about 10 minutes before starting time. About 500 people had gathered from up-river, downriver and across the mountains. They were heartily singing such favourite hymns as "Standing on the Promises of God". They had a church with removable walls. They filled the inside, took away the walls and the people were sitting about five deep around the outside. [44]

Quite early in the service I was invited to present the token copy of the New Testament, speaking through my interpreter. I was also invited to give the address and as far as I knew Udan told them what I was saying. Sometimes he seemed to get carried away a little!

When we came to what I expected to be the end of the service the Vice-President, Balang, rose and began to make a speech with a good deal of feeling. I sensed it had something to do with my presence and eventually Udan confided that they had a surprise for me. They were going to take a special cash offering and give it to me to take home and use to produce Scriptures in another language for other people!

An offering box was placed just in front of the pulpit and while they sang "All to Jesus I surrender, All to Him I freely give" the congregation filed down the aisles and made their contributions. Many of course had no cash at all and were unable to give. They had their rice from their ricefields, a few vegetables from their gardens and a few chickens under their longhouses. And unless they could get a job to bring in a dollar or two or sell some rice or a chicken they could make no monetary gift. Yet here they were jamming the aisles to hand over to God their precious cash. The offering amounted to less than $100 but in terms of value it was equal to giving thousands in our circumstances. In handing over the New Testament I had quoted words from the Coronation service of our Queen--"I present you with this Book. It is the most valuable thing this world affords.  . ." This is what the Scriptures were to them and this is how they expressed their joy. [45]

There was a sequel to this story. As we were so interested in the Muruts, the missionaries thought it would be good forme to visit a Murut longhouse and outstation church. Most of the people lived in longhouses, with the rooms in which the people lived running down one side and a full length verandah running down the other side on which the people did their work such as treading out the rice and winnowing it to separate the husk from the grain. From fifty to one hundred families could live in some of these. Their beds were little more than raised areas or shelves. They showed me one room where the unmarried women slept. When they were married they were given a room of their own but of course they said, "There are always some left on the shelf!" Maybe this is where that saying originated!

Well, to get to this area we had to travel six miles up-river by launch and then walk I'm not sure how many miles along a jungle track, or over how many stream crossings. We were bound for Longsabangan. The temperature was in the vicinity of 95 degrees and the humidity seemed to me to be about 610! We took with us a Murut carrier to handle our baggage, and I suppose if necessary to carry me back at the end of the day!

We reached the longhouse shortly before midday and went straight to the Pastor's house. The missionary had a short discussion with the Pastor and then looked at me with concern. He explained, "I'm afraid we are going to be late home. They have arranged a feast for you and a service at which they want you to preach." We were expected to be back home by about 4 pm and there did not seem to be any possibility of managing this under these arrangements. I was to leave Lawas next day and they were to farewell me that night.

No sooner had the missionary said they had arranged a feast for me than men began to arrive with packages of food. These were brought and stacked on the Pastor's table. We entered the house by climbing the notched log ladder, which was designed to keep the chickens from entering. We were invited to partake. I thought this was the feast and I was hungry, so I decided to satisfy my hunger, and at the same time, by eating a hearty meal, show my appreciation of their gesture. There was much of the food that I dared not eat. I decided to concentrate mostly on fruit such as paw paw and bananas. The drink supplied was hot, sweet milk, made from condensed milk and water, and kept for special occasions. Every time I drank a little and put the cup down, the pot would come over my shoulder to fill it up again. It didn't matter how much I protested, they couldn't understand. They could have thought I was saying, "Jolly fine. Fill it up again." It was not until at last in good fun I turned the cup upside down that they ceased filling it up. I felt proud of my effort and felt I had done more than justice to the meal. Imagine how disconcerted I was when the missionary whispered, "You know that wasn't the feast. The feast is still to come!"

There were 138 people living in the longhouse. I preached in the church to a full congregation. At the conclusion the headman of the village made a speech and said how grateful they were for the part we had played in producing the New Testament but said, "We have nothing we can give you to take back to New Zealand, but after the custom of our people we have prepared a feast for you on the longhouse verandah." I graciously accepted the invitation and we moved to the longhouse verandah where the food was being set out on mats on the floor. There was little by way of crockery or food dishes. Most of the food was placed on green leaves on the floor. Some had been rolled up in leaves which had been cut to a size of about 10 inches square. There was pork and poultry and eggs and fish, and rice and many other tasty morsels. As guest of honour, I was placed on a special mat with the missionary and the Pastor and his wife and provided with a spoon with which to eat my rice. Again I did myself proud as guest of honour, this time sampling more of the native type dishes. I rose proud of how I had acquitted myself again as their guest, but jolly glad I had miles to walk back to the boat on the way home.

What a wonderful experience--two feasts in one day! But wait, there was more to follow. When we arrived back at Lawas they said, "You're running late. Have a quick shower and come. The people are waiting. They have prepared a farewell feast for you." And what a feast it was! But this time we had tables and stools to sit on and we had crockery and cutlery, even table cloths and flowers and coffee and cordial. We were at headquarters and the area where they had their training college. It was only then that I began to put two and two together. On the Monday I had seen the hunters going out into the jungle for meat with their blow pipes and arrows and guns and spears and rifles. On the Tuesday I had seen them return laden with pork. Wednesday I sat down to the feast. They had done all this for me. They wanted to prepare a feast. The only way they could get it was to go out to the jungle and find it. This was not a mere show. It was an act of thanksgiving and praise to God for the coming of the New Testament. [47]

Truly these were wonderful people. They had a training college here for ministers and missionaries with an enrolment of 120 from 10 different tribes. In days gone by they hunted one another's heads (you've heard of the headhunters of Borneo); now they sat and trained and worshipped together as a family in the faith. Truly a wonderful testimony for the transforming power of the Gospel.

Not only did the Christian faith give them this spiritual enrichment. It had an economic value as well. They had been a very superstitious people. They had what they called the "omen bird". If they were going to plant their crops or work their gardens and they saw the omen bird flying in a certain direction they simply returned home, having failed to plant as they believed planting in the face of the omen bird was bad luck. To dash their superstitions led to a certainty of planting and harvest.

Indonesia

I left Borneo having had the most exciting experience of a lifetime.

Following this I paid a brief visit to Brunei and there was impressed by the river dwellers--people living in houses and boats built out over the water.

From Brunei I went to Singapore where I would have loved to have done a lot of shopping, but didn't have the money. I did buy Muriel some pearls and ivory salt and pepper shakers. The markets were absolutely amazing. It was from here that I tried to get to Medan in North Sumatra on Garuda Indonesian Airways but was told by the Embassy that there bad been a lot of trouble and that only permanent residents were allowed to enter this way. I spent a couple of hours seeking to persuade them of my integrity and that it should not be necessary for me to go first to Jakarta and then up. At last I unloaded all my preparatory correspondence from London, Edinburgh, Wellington, Dunedin and Jakarta which I had taken the precaution of having with me. As they looked at it and saw the signature of the secretary of the Indonesian Bible Society one of the men said as he pointed, "I know that man. Give him his tickets." So I made my entry through Medan.

My interpreter and guide arranged by the Indonesian Bible Society was the general secretary of the Simalugun Batak Church. To me he spoke English about as well as the average school boy speaks French. He found my English as difficult as I found his but with many repetitions and much patience we got on well together.

North Sumatra was known as Batakland and there were six different Batak dialects. He took me first to the Karo Batak area. They had a church established 75 years before with a membership then of 35,000 and they were still without a complete Bible and even unable to get a supply of New Testaments. The Pastor's first words were "I hope you can help us." Because of language difficulties these people could not read the ordinary Bashasa Indonesian Bible. Only about 25% of the Karo Bataks were Christian.

From there I went to Siantur, perhaps 100 miles away, to the centre of the Simalugan Batak church. They had the New Testament printed by the Indonesian Bible Society but were unable to get the Old Testament, so they had formed their own [48] Bible Society and had sent a young man to Germany to learn Hebrew with a view to Old Testament translation. The headman said, "We cannot pay our Pastors, we cannot maintain our buildings, we cannot get the Scriptures. I hope you can help. Within the last three months 2,000 heathen decided to become Christians but what can we do? We haven't enough workers and we haven't enough Scriptures to teach them the Christian faith."

My next visit was to Bandung in West Java where New Zealand Presbyterians had a fraternal worker whom I happened to know. The language there was Sundanese and the story was the same--"I hope you will be able to help us."

I was the guest of Mr G. P. Khouw, a Dutchman, who was secretary of the Indonesian Bible Society. He said they had 750,000 Christian families, but had only distributed 250,000 complete Bibles and that they urgently needed another half a million.

Mr and Mrs Khouw lived in a compound, a little group of houses, built by the Dutch before they got out of Indonesia. I arrived late at night and he said, "There has been a lot of trouble in this area lately with rebels coming up the river and we have our own armed guard to protect us. If you hear anyone walking around during the night or see anyone flashing torches, hopefully it will be our own armed guard." The situation was frightening. Everywhere you looked there were armed soldiers on guard. As we moved around the country and before we went anywhere, Mr Khouw always registered me at the Police Station to assure them that I was alright and not a suspect. We never went out at night except for one evening when just approaching dark he took me to see a Bible translator who had been confronted at his window by an armed intruder and when he turned to run was shot in the leg. He was now in bed recovering from the incident. We had a good session on Bible translation with stories I could tell when I returned home. As we went out of the door when we were about to leave, Mr Khouw suddenly turned and went back in. As he did so I saw a figure in the dark, without doubt fully armed, quickly step in behind a tree. My, I thought, this is it. Fancy having to die away up here! I fancied I could already feel blood running down my cheeks. When Mr Khouw came out I whispered hoarsely, "There's a man behind that tree with a gun." "Yes," he said, "he's the night watchman protecting your life." If ever I was glad to leave anywhere, it was Indonesia.

On my last Sunday morning in Indonesia I was invited to attend a service in the historic church at Viepok which had been established by liberated slaves in the middle of the eighteenth century. On our way out we passed about 25 people each carrying two bundles of rice. These people had been working out in the rice fields early that morning and had been paid in rice--two small bundles each. I was told that 30% of the people there had TB, 50% had malaria and they had no doctor except one who came on fortnightly visits. They needed not only Scriptures but also nurses and doctors. Could New Zealand help?

A visit to Indonesia was a never-to-be-forgotten experience. As I stepped into the Comet jet and sped into the night, looking back on the lights of Jakarta, I was [49] reminded of Paul's experience as he stood in Troas almost 2,000 years ago when he had a vision in the night of a man of Macedonia saying, "Come over into Macedonia and help us." (Acts 16:9) Everywhere I had gone I had heard that plea--"I hope you will be able to help us". I left Indonesia with a heavy heart. I went back home and preached on "The Indonesian Call". It was not unusual to be handed cheques to the value of £100 after a meeting. I sent my report to the Australian Bible Society and they used it for a £40,000 appeal.

In 1959 the Indonesian Government had placed an embargo on the entry of literature in the Indonesian language and had thus actually cut off the supply of Scriptures with that of other literature. This was not an anti-Christian act. It was intended to cut off the flow of communist literature entering the country and at the same time boost the economy of a new nation by printing all literature in the country itself. Because the available printing presses were not able to print the Scriptures, permission was obtained for the entry of Scriptures for a further two years until December, 1961, thus enabling a further half million copies to enter. Because of the embargo the United Bible Societies immediately planned to establish a printing press to cost about £100,000. New Zealand was committed to raise £10,000 a year toward this project and our contributions went toward that. The press is now providing Indonesia with a good supply of Scriptures. I was able to see the press in its early stages of establishment.

I returned from Indonesia via Sydney and on arrival there immediately went to confirm my booking for the flight home. I understood it to be confirmed right to Dunedin. On the way it was quite evident we were not going to make it to Christchurch in time for the departure of my final leg of an eight week journey during which, considering where I had been, I had done remarkably well. I began to panic and asked that the flight be informed that I was on the way and would definitely be going. Please, could they wait a minute for me! When we got to Christchurch my plane was out on the tarmac preparing for takeoff. I rushed to the booking office and found that I was not even booked to go! My flight had only been "requested" not "confirmed". I had no alternative but to take a bus and arrived home a crestfallen man at about 2 am! "How are the mighty fallen!"

I had gone to see things fist hand and I certainly had. I could see what we were doing and what we needed to do as a Society to help to meet the desperate needs of the future. My other objective was to get talks material for future promotion of the work, and I had gathered enough for years. I wrote a diary practically daily and posted it to Muriel who kept it for my return. I found my "staff", Muriel, had done a mighty job in the office while I was away and I was thus ready to spread the good word in the days to come with rallies throughout my area.

Cook Islands

In 19711 was invited by the Bible Society in New Zealand to represent them in a visit to the Cook Islands to look into the desirability and possibility of a new translation of the Rarotongan Bible. I was actually the first Bible Society representative ever to visit the islands. [50]

The Cook Islands lie about 1,800 miles north east of New Zealand in the Pacific Ocean. If you look at the map of the world you will see one tiny dot the size of a pin head marked Cook Islands. There are actually 15 islands in the group scattered over 850,000 square miles of ocean. The most distant are 850 miles apart and the land area only about 93 square miles. There are no less than 13 dialects with Rarotongan as the main language. They had a total population of only 20,000. Avarua is the capital on the island of Rarotonga. European discovery of the islands covered a period of 250 years and several of the islands were lost and found several times. Captain Cook is credited with finding five of them and Fletcher Christian of the Bounty and John Williams the missionary are also named as discoverers.

John Williams, representing the London Missionary Society fast visited Rarotonga from another island called Aitutaki about 40 miles away. He searched for eight days before he found it. He was warned to keep away from it as the people were said to be wild, savage and dangerous cannibals. When he arrived he was confronted by Makea the chief who stood over six feet four inches in height with arms and legs profusely tattooed. His premises were decorated with the heads of victims captured in times of war. He himself had cut many a man to pieces and decorated his premises with parts of their bodies. Life and death were in his hands.

Much to John Williams' relief Makea received him peacefully and agreed to receive and support two native teachers and their wives. John Williams returned to the ship in peace but that night a very nasty situation arose. Warriors from a neighbouring tribe tried to kidnap the two women and Williams had to recall them to the ship. However one of the men, Papaiha, refused to leave with Williams and jumped overboard, burdened only with the Gospel, becoming the first missionary. When Williams returned to the island a few years later he found that practically the whole island had embraced the Christian faith.

My visit was in 1971. I was being sent by the Bible Society rather than being invited by the church there. I had written to the Secretary of the Cook Islands Christian Church to ask if I could see him, see something of the work of the church, visit some of the islands and discuss with him the reason for my visit. I also asked for some idea of transport between the islands to get an idea as to how much time would be required.

I waited for five weeks and had no reply. I then sent a cabled message and finally received a reply saying he would be in Auckland the following week at a conference and I could see him and talk to him there. He didn't seem to realise that I was a thousand miles away. I tracked him down in Auckland and spoke to him by phone. "Yes," he said, "everything is alright. You shouldn't expect a reply. You ask. We will do it. You will be staying with me and I will look after you. I will see that you meet the people and preach in our churches. I will see that you visit the islands." He said he would probably be going back on the same flight as me. He would be in Suva and would meet me at Nadi.

However, when I got to Nadi he was not there. I asked some of the Cook Island folk awaiting the flight if they knew him or knew anything about him. I was [51]

horrified when they said he was stranded in Suva and could not get on the flight. "But don't worry," they said, "he'll be on the next flight." "When is the next flight?" I asked. "Only two weeks away," they said! He had however cabled home and made arrangements for my arrival.

To go to the Cook Islands at that time it was necessary for me to go by air from Dunedin to Auckland; then to Fiji and Samoa and across to Rarotonga. We departed Auckland at 9 pm and arrived at Rarotonga at 12 noon the next day, several hours before we left home because we had crossed the dateline. As Bill Marsters, the Secretary, was still in Suva, I found I was placed in the hands of his wife Martha. Bill and Martha had enough children to form a cricket club and provide the umpire.

There was a welcoming group of about twenty people awaiting me, all women, and they came up to me one by one, gave me a hearty handshake of welcome and placed a lei over my head. I was decorated with at least 14 leis, all made of strongly scented frangipani and as I am allergic to highly scented flowers you can imagine what a struggle I had.

I was advised that arrangements had been made for a member of the Government to attend to my business arrangements in the absence of Bill Marsters, but he was not there for my arrival. He phoned later, after I had settled into my quarters previously occupied by the representatives of the London Missionary Society and having as its last guest the Bishop of New Guinea. My "caretaker" said he was sick with the flu at that moment but that he would come to me as soon as he could and he expected that to be Monday! This was Wednesday lunch time and it looked as though I would have to cool my heels and contain myself for a few days. I was able, however, to make some contact with the Roman Catholics and the Mormon elders regarding their work and their use of the Scriptures. They all belonged to the Council of Churches there. [52]

I asked if any arrangements had been made for me on the Wednesday and they said no. But on leaving me they said, "We will see you tonight." "Tonight," I said. "What's on tonight?" They said, "Haven't you heard? We have arranged a welcome for you. They'll all be there. The Catholics, the Seventh Day Adventists and the Mormons, the Governor and the Prime Minister will be there." And what a night it was with a banquet, a choir singing in the background, speeches of welcome, and appreciation for the Scriptures as they all had to use Scriptures published by the Bible Society.

On arrival they had asked me if I had brought my driver's licence, as I could use Bill's car in his absence. There were 19 miles of roads on Rarotonga. When I said I hadn't they said, "We will take you to the Police and get one for you. "They took me, with my frangipani leis on, to the Police station, told the Commissioner my story and he took me to the counter and said, "Give this man a driver's licence immediately." I did not actually use the car but came home with a Cook Islands drivers licence!

I lived like a lord in my quarters, catered for by Martha and her "staff". The house was surrounded by palms, banana and coconut trees and beautiful shrubs such as poinsettias.

One of the first things I did when I got there was to try to make a booking to get out. I had planned a stay of only a couple of weeks but I had heard even before I had reached Nadi that the airport on Rarotonga would be closed for five weeks during works to bring it up to International standard. So I tried to get on the last flight out, which I eventually did by getting a seat cancelled by a Roman Catholic priest who had been stranded on one of the islands and was unable to join the flight.

Bill Marsters eventually arrived after several days--much sooner than expected. I had had morning tea with the group of Catholic priests and their Bishop, I had dined with the Mormon elders and preached for the Seventh Day Adventists.

A highlight of my stay there was Pentecost Sunday. I was invited to preach at the Takamoa church. There were well over a thousand people there and Bill Marsters acted as my interpreter. (Almost everywhere I went I was welcomed in their language and had to receive the welcome and reply through an interpreter. There was however a wide group who spoke English).

On arriving at the service, the first thing that struck me was the sight of groups of women entering the church with each group dressed in a distinctive colour. Bill explained that they celebrated this day as a joyous day with the coming of the Holy Spirit and the women observed it as a Women's Day. The various groups in their own colours came from the various areas around Takamoa. They lined up for me after the service for photographs. There would have been about ten large groups and to see them sitting in their groups was quite moving.

In the evening of Pentecost Sunday the women of the church changed districts and conducted Gospel services. These are called Uapau or combined efforts. The meetings consisted of preaching, singing which was really terrific, often with women and girls waving their arms and dancing in the aisles. They were women's [53] meetings and the men and boys gathered outside and watched and listened from a distance. I was taken from meeting to meeting to observe what was being done. The Uapaus concluded with a Fellowship meal. It was a terrific day and night for me and I shall never forget that experience.

The story of the present settlement of the Cook Island Maoris dates back to about 1200 AD. It is said that two warriors set out on voyages of discovery, one from Samoa whose name was "Karika" and one from Tahiti called "Tangia". They met in mid-ocean and Karika challenged Tangia to fight. Tangia was not keen about it and devised a way out. He said, "It would be a silly thing, would it not, to fight out here in--mid-ocean with no one to watch us and cheer the victor. Would it not be better to go ahead until we find someone to witness our skill and then fight?" Karika agreed and they went on together. By the time they had reached Rarotonga they had made friends and Tangia had married the daughter of Karika.

They found the island already inhabited and the evidence showed that people had been there for hundreds of years. There was even a paved road, part of which still stands, which had been made by Toi three hundred years before. The first thing they did was to suppress the people already there. They then decided to divide the land between them by starting at a given point, sailing in opposite directions until they met and then drawing a line across the island from the starting point to the finishing point. There were still said to be descendants of Tangia at Ngatangia, one of the districts of the island which I visited. As they multiplied and spread abroad they occupied other islands and some of them were among the first Polynesians to arrive in New Zealand in the fourteenth century.

Travel between the islands was very difficult as it was almost impossible to make bookings. If you asked, "When will there be a vessel going to ------ ?" they would say, "When it comes back from where it is and loads again." When it came back, if you had booked to travel it was more or less necessary to stand by ready to board at a moment's notice because when it was finished loading it "blew the whistle and was off".

I was particularly interested in visiting the island of Mangia, the southernmost in the group about 450 miles south of Rarotonga. (It was not possible to travel by air except to Aitutaki about 40 miles away). An extra reason why I was interested in going to Mangia was that I had read a story about the people there and how the original giants had become little men.

The story said that when the first missionaries went there the people were fighting giants. They just loved to fight and fight they could. Naturally the coming of missionaries with the Gospel of peace did not appeal to them, as it would spoil their fun. One day they went to their missionary, the Rev Wyatt Gill, and said, "Gillirua" (that's what they called him) "we are going out to fight. We love to fight and we will fight." Wyatt Gill was horrified and did his best to persuade them to stay at home and tend their gardens, however without success. So the Mangians went to fight and Gillirua went to pray. They said, "Gillirua, he pray night, he pray day. All the time he [54] pray. Pray. Pray. At last God he say, 'OK, Gillirua, I'll fix those Mangian boys. I'll make them little men, no good to fight.'" Ever since then, the story says "the Mangians have been little men".

Of course I didn't believe the Mangians had been changed physically from giants to pygmies but I did expect to find a group of little men. I wanted to find out how these "little men" found a place among the otherwise big Maori race.

When I began to get excited about going, after eventually making a booking, I started to ask questions and got a similar answer from several different men. "Is it true," I asked, "that the Mangians are little men?" "Well, yes, that could be," they said, "because I know a Mangian and he is a little man and there is "So and So" and he is a little man and comes from Mangia. Yes, it could be true."

My hopes were built up when I climbed aboard the Bodmer and met one of the crew. He asked, "Are you going to Mangia?" "Yes," I said. He got quite excited. "I come from Mangia. I was born there. That is my home," he said, "I'm a real Mangian." And he was a little man, about as small as I have seen a full-grown man. So I was off to see the little men of Mangia.

I was aboard a copra vessel with only a few cabins and all the other passengers as deck cargo. As I was booked through the church I was counted as a VIP and had a twin cabin with a man and a dog in the other bunk! We were now out in the Pacific heading for Mangia, about 450 miles south. But believe me it was not "pacific"--peaceful and calm. My bunk was crossways and with the roll of the vessel I kept sliding from head to foot and back again. Eventually I had to pack my belongings at my feet to stop the slide. I didn't weather the storm either. I'm no sailor, you can have the water as far as I am concerned. I was violently ill! When we woke up in the morning we found that the storm had been so fierce that the Bodmer had turned east on the way and headed for the island we were to visit on my return. We got there fairly late in the afternoon and I was welcomed by my host several days earlier than expected. They were having a meeting to plan my welcome when suddenly someone shouted "He's here!" and they spun into action.

After some excitement in getting things ready I was sat down to what looked like a fairly good meal. I wasn't sure if this was my afternoon tea or evening meal. I asked if this was all or if there was more to follow later and they assured me this was all. So I did my best to make up for what I had lost on the way.

By about 8 pm I was resting in my room thinking I was set for the night when suddenly there was a knock on the door with a voice saying, "It's ready". "What's ready?" "Your evening meal". There was fish and pork and eggs and fruit--you name it--it was there! So like in Borneo I did my best. Here you sat at the table on your own except for the chief or your host, and ate while all the others stood around watching you and waiting to eat what was left.

Well--another feast! And I had done the best I could do. But that was not the end! My host said "They are preparing an Umakai (feast) for you". I asked [55] anxiously, "When will it be?" "When it is ready. It might be tonight. It might not be until tomorrow".

Fortunately for me it was tomorrow! It was ready about 10 am and I had to be polite and eat and eat I did. But that wasn't the end. Wait for it. By about midday the Islanders had prepared an Umakai for all on the boat! And who should be the special guest at the head of the table but me! They gave us a truly Maori welcome. (They call the Cook Islanders the Cook Island Maoris). There were speeches of welcome with the usual Maori trappings and dances. Half way through, my interpreter suddenly said, "Oh no! They are welcoming you as the Bishop." He had to explain later that I was not His Reverence the Bishop but the Rev Bischoff. However I still held my VIP place at the table and was called upon to respond on behalf of all the guests.

Imagine my surprise when eventually I arrived at Mangia. We anchored offshore, as the island is surrounded by a reef. We were invited to climb overboard into a "lighter", bobbing up and down like a cork, with oarsmen waiting to launch the boat on the crest of a wave and land us in the shallow waters on the reef so we could wade ashore. I was greeted by my host, Mr Aberahama, the secretary of the Cook Island Christian Church there. After welcoming me he said, "I'm a Mangian. I was born here. I have lived here all my life. I'm a real Mangian." A little man? No. Eighteen stone plus! I quickly glanced around and saw that most of the men were "big and beefy". I was puzzled to know what the story meant.

I awaited a favourable opportunity to ask my question. It came in the afternoon when I was sitting on a box on the back of a truck with three huge Maoris. I was being shown around the pineapple plantations. I said with a grin on my face, "I was told the Mangians were little men." They laughed heartily and said, "Yes. We have a story about that. We have a story about that."

But don't laugh at me too soon. The story was true in the sense that it was a parable. God had changed the fierce, angry, arrogant men, the fighting giants, into humble Christians filled with the "fruit of the Spirit", "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, goodness, gentleness, meekness and faith". They were now no longer "good for fight"--in that sense they were "little men." When John Williams the missionary had first visited their shore they grabbed the native teachers who had come with him and threw them to the ground and sat on them. They laid hold of their wives and dragged them about until their clothes were tom to shreds. They told them to get back into their ship and sail away and never return. They warned, "If you return the Mangians will kill you. The Mangians will eat you."

Contrast that with the Mangian women of today. They meet on the first Tuesday of every month for a service of special dedication and prayer. First they pray for themselves. Then they pray for the women of the Pacific and then the women of the world. They commit themselves to be an example to their children. They recite the names of the books of the Bible, symbolising that it is only as they feed more and more upon that Book that they can be what God wants them to be. They want to be giants again--giants in the faith! So back to Rarotonga. [56]

At a moving farewell function on Rarotonga, an Umakai or feast, they presented me with a beautiful te wae wae, a huge double bed cover as a gift. It was made of about fifteen hundred little pieces of cloth, all stitched together by hand, in the brightest colours imaginable, arranged in a meaningful pattern. When the deacon of the church presented it to me he said, "When they started to make this te wae wae these were all little pieces but now they are all joined together as one piece. There was a day when we as a people were all 'little pieces'--fighting, killing, cooking and eating each other. Then the missionaries came with the Gospel of peace and we became one people. This gift is symbolic of the transforming power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We are now one people."

You will remember that when I was welcomed to the islands I was adorned with frangipani leis. As I left I was adorned with leis of shells. Lei after lei was again put over my head until there was hardly room for more.

They also presented me with a lovely reversible fibre mat with the colours woven into it, which is exclusive to one of the outer islands known as Danger Island in the early days. Again symbolic of the Gospel woven into their lives.

But what of my mission--a new translation of the Rarotongan Bible? I worked hard and talked much of the possibility of the project while there, but unfortunately I had got there at a time when there was a swing back to their old culture and their old language. They were trying to hold on to the past and many resented the idea of changing what had become precious to them for something new coming in from the outside world. It was like asking a fundamentalist lover of the Authorised Version of the Bible who had grown to love and cherish its rich and meaningful expressions to abandon it for something which seemed new and different and meaningless to them. They were happy with what they had. The younger people who were feeling the need of change could speak a good deal of English and had such everyday language texts as the Good News Bible. The project was put on "hold" in the meantime.

During my years with the BSOS the Presbyterian Synod of Otago and Southland had what they called the Presbyterian Hour as a weekly programme on a privately owned radio station, 4XD, and as they were vitally interested in the work of the Bible Society, they allocated to me one session a month to use as guest broadcaster in the interests of the work of the Society. It was a marvellous opportunity to make known the work we were doing.

I was retired from the Bible Society at age 65 in 1973 and looked forward to many happy years of retirement in our home in Green Island, Dunedin, New Zealand. But apparently that was not to be. There was still more for me to do and that was again to be in a secretarial capacity. [57]

NATIONAL (OR GENERAL) SECRETARY OF THE ASSOCIATED CHURCHES OF CHRIST IN NEW ZEALAND

My third ministry outside pastoral ministry in a church was that of National (or General) Secretary of the Associated Churches of Christ in New Zealand.

The Secretary at that time was Wallace Harford, who had resigned to take up a pastoral ministry in Victoria at Geelong. He had spoken to me about the possibility of my being available to take his place at least until a suitable younger person could be found. As there had been a lot of division in the church arising out of union discussions with other communions, the position was "something of a hot seat" and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life trying to iron out differences. (Five churches were at that time negotiating for union--Anglican, Presbyterian, Congregational, Methodist and the Associated Churches of Christ. The union was never consummated on a national basis but there were several local union arrangements, in which seven of our Churches of Christ were involved).

Believing that we should recognise and cooperate with other communions, but not go into organic union, I stood very much between the main differences and had a good deal of the confidence of opposing groups. However, I decided not to make application for the position when it was advertised.

When applications came to hand the Conference Council met in Wellington to consider them and make the appointment. Much to my surprise, my phone rang about 10 o'clock that night with the Chairman persuasively inviting me to catch the early morning flight to Wellington to meet with the Council for discussion with a view to being appointed! They felt my particular skills and experience and stand fitted me well for the task. With all the persuasion I agreed and when I arrived for "discussions" I found I was welcomed as the new General Secretary!

While at first the idea was that I could remain in our own home and operate from Dunedin it was later agreed that it would be better if I continued to work from Wellington with our office in Lower Hutt. This meant selling in Dunedin and buying again in the Wellington area. We went through a lot of trauma in buying in Wellington, as there was a difference in housing prices of about $8,000. However, we eventually settled on a house in Upper Hutt, a wooden one in place of a brick one in Dunedin. We thought everything was right and were on the way with our goods on the water when the solicitor feverishly tracked us down and informed us that the wife of the man who sold the house to us, following a broken marriage, had taken out a caveat to prevent the sale. However, we managed to make a settlement and get possession. We were a little unhappy feeling perhaps that in purchasing the house we had in some way contributed to the break-up of the marriage. We were pleased however a few months later to meet the woman and have her tell us she was now happy it was us who had purchased the property as we had it looking so nice. [58]

The General Secretary's task was a gigantic one with an office and part-time typist in Lower Hutt, involving the secretaryship of the Conference Council, the Dominion Conference, Administration Committee, Finance Committee and Preachers' Placement Committee.

The position as conference Secretary meant I had to handle all Conference arrangements, collate the reports of all Departments and publish what was usually an eighty page book as a Conference Handbook and a forty page book after Conference with all the minutes and decisions as a Conference Report. As you will understand, the Conference period was a very exacting one. However I was able to grapple with it for six years, having celebrated my seventieth birthday at Conference with the usual "Happy Birthday" sung the year before my retirement.

As I was the only full time employee of the Associated Churches of Christ I also had to do a lot of promotion work for the Association, moving up and down the country most weekends and attending committee meetings of the various departments. Most of the travelling was by air. We lived 40 km from the airport but I would drive there and leave the car in the long-term parking area.

The arrangements of ministerial appointments was an interesting one. I would hold a list of appointments and availabilities and in consultation with the Committee, recommend a suitable placement. Owing to the shortage of ministers and because certain churches wanted certain types of ministers we drew quite a few from our Churches in America. I would negotiate on behalf of a church first with a Committee in America, and then negotiate with New Zealand Department of Immigration for the necessary entry permits according to the time they wished to stay in the country. We also had an arrangement that they would enter at Rongatai, Wellington, and spend a few days in our home during which time I would brief them on the working of our churches in New Zealand. One couple had three fairly young children and as we only had a two-bed spare room we made bookings for them in the local motel. However they preferred to stay as a family with us and said they had been sleeping on the floor for a month before leaving, after selling their home and furniture. So we borrowed some sleeping bags and bedded the children down in the lounge, leaving the heater on all night to keep them warm. Meeting with these people, introducing them to New Zealand and learning from them of America was a most interesting and enriching experience.

Allan Lee, secretary of the World Convention of the Churches of Christ, visited New Zealand regularly during my term of office and was a guest at our Conference. It was our privilege to have him as a guest in our home. We also took the opportunity of showing him a little of New Zealand as we travelled to and from Conference. He made a practice of writing books and articles about his travels and experiences, and surprised me one day by asking for an interview to be used as a chapter in one of his books! He sent me a copy of the article he wrote about me but I never actually saw the book in which it was supposed to be included. I often wonder if it went into print. I know I did get into print in two travel books written by A. H. Reed, [59] New Zealand author and publisher, for kindness extended to him. The first I knew of it was when the books were read on the radio.

It was during my appointment as General Secretary that the date of our fortieth wedding anniversary came up. Being in a strange land and having no relatives in New Zealand at the time, we thought a celebration function was out of the question.

However we were in membership with the Trentham Church of Christ in the Hutt Valley, Wellington. In fact I was an elder there, not having a church of my own, and knowing our situation our friends there offered to arrange an afternoon tea at the church and to make it "open house". We expected perhaps twenty or thirty people to turn up. Much to our surprise over eighty people arrived and as some of our friends at our previous congregation of Wellington South where we had ministered from 1943 to 1948 had news of the event, they came to honour us too.

There were "no gifts by request" but when it came to speech time, as it happened to be at the time of the Olympic Games, we were presented with "Olympic" Medals bearing the Olympic inscriptions. We hadn't quite made the gold, or in fact any Olympic medal, but we were running well and they thought we should be encouraged with a runner-up leather medal each, nicely inscribed, with leather straps and all, for our courage and perseverance! I guess you didn't realise there were "Olympic" champions in the family!

After six years as General Secretary at age 71, an approach was made to a suitable successor and I was able to retire for the second time. Having no family or relatives in New Zealand, our minds naturally turned to Australia. As mentioned previously, we had only intended to spend a few years in New Zealand initially for experience but had actually served there for thirty-three years. We were not in a financial position to risk selling out there, moving to Australia, and buying on a higher market especially after losing 13% exchange on the way. So we were delighted to receive an unsolicited invitation to serve the Brighton church in Victoria in an interim capacity, part-time, as mentioned under Pastoral Ministries. It meant a home to go to and a little help in removal costs, and an opportunity to get the feel of where we would like to live. When all things were added together we chose Frankston because we liked the area, because there was a healthy church there, and because we found the house which suited our needs and our bank balance. And we have never regretted settling here. It was a God-given situation for us.

OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST

Family Links

In returning from New Zealand after 33 years we were anxious to catch up on our families back here in Australia. As we were to live in Melbourne where most of Muriel's family were living, we decided to forward our furniture and effects by ship [60] to Melbourne and while we were awaiting their arrival we would go by air to Queensland, buy a car there and visit most of my family. Some of course we had never seen. They had been born, grown up, married and had families of their own. As we visited as many as possible and were helped by nephews and nieces bringing their families together to meet us, Muriel began to make lists of the families and the names of the children. This was continued as we visited again, and began to become so comprehensive that I decided to extend it and compile a family tree or family record with full names, dates and places of births, deaths and marriages, and names of children, from Dad's parents down to the last descendants. This was finally computerised for me by Rodney and Merle and is available for future generations as a complete record of the family from 1865 to 1991. Along with this, I prepared a complete list of names and addresses and telephone numbers of the whole of the family's households. This led to a reunion of the whole family arranged under my guidance by Coral and Shirley, wives of Len and Arthur, which was a tremendous occasion at the Tarampa Baptist Church, Queensland, in March 1984.

It so happened that Shirley Evans, granddaughter of Dad's brother John (Johann), decided to publish a book on their family. When almost ready for publication she discovered what I had prepared on our family and wrote and asked if she could include it in her book. I was quite happy about this and it finally led to a family reunion of Dad's family, his brother John's family and also the family of his sister, Gustie, at Kilcoy showgrounds, Queensland, on 27 September, 1987. This commemorated 122 years of Bischoffs (our family) in Australia dating from 1865. Shirley's book gives a complete record of both families.

It was good to see how through the above events the family of Bischoffs, and their descendants by other names, were brought together to get to know each other better. My theme in my address at the reunion of the whole family was "We Belong Together".

Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary

27 July, 1986 was a great event for us. As we had no family to arrange a celebration, Don, my nephew, and Jean, his wife, very kindly offered to arrange an event at Gatton, Queensland. This was a great occasion and almost amounted to another family reunion. We were most grateful to them and all who joined in helping them with the arrangements and catering. There were supposed to be no gifts but we were presented with a beautiful brass plant stand.

On our return from Queensland, Merle and Graham, who were unable to be present at the function, arranged a celebration for us in their home at Batesford, Geelong, Victoria with their family. Caleb their grandson was able to share the day with us in celebrating his second birthday, which was due on 21 August.

There was a third celebration in our home in Frankston where we were honoured by Muriel's sisters. We shall never forget this milestone in our marriage. [61]

Eightieth Birthday

The Van Cootens, the Victorian members of the family, very kindly arranged a celebration for my eightieth birthday here at our residence in Frankston--Merle my niece and Graham her husband, son Rodney with his wife Roslyn and children Sarah and Caleb, Craig with his wife Janine and children Jessica and Benjamin, and Jill and her fiancé Kim Forward (who were married a little later). Naturally it was a very happy occasion.

Remaining Members of the Family

At the time of writing I stand as the oldest remaining member of the original family, with Norman my brother being five years younger. Muriel and I made a special trip to be with my sister Lena who celebrated her eighty-sixth birthday a few weeks before her death 29 November 1989. My brother Artie died in his eighty-sixth year but did not quite reach his eighty-sixth birthday. It will be interesting to see if either Norman or I, or both of us, can match their fine achievement in living. [62]

The Children We Haven't Got

Over the years Muriel seems to have been like a magnet in drawing other people's children to our home. Let me give just one example of the many that could be given. After being in our present home for some time our next door neighbours had to relocate for business reasons and sold their four bedroom brick home to the Housing Commission. The Commission had plans to convert the property into two two bedroom units for people such as single or separated mothers, but they failed to get the necessary permit to do so. The result was that the property was used for emergency housing. After several short-term tenants with small families we were suddenly confronted with a family moving in with ten children under seventeen years of age. At first the children appeared to be very "sheepish" (frightened and shy) and to have no relatives or friends visiting them. Because of the general stigma attached to people in emergency housing, many people in the locality regarded them as suspect and blamed every mischief committed in the area on them whether they were guilty or not. We gradually got acquainted with them with the usual "balls over the fence" and welcomed them as friends. Six of them were under ten years of age with the oldest of the six being somewhat retarded.

It wasn't long before they began coming in after school to show us what they had done there and to bring us pictures especially painted for us to decorate our walls and doors. We began by offering them a drink of orange cordial, then added a biscuit to it. One day as Muriel opened the cupboard door they spotted the Nutrigrain cereal and said "Nutrigrain! We love it. Can we have some?" As it was described as "nuts and bolts" and was rather crunchy Muriel gave them some in their hands. Then one day they asked, "Could we have it in a bowl with milk and sugar?" Muriel granted the request. Then they realised that we had three kinds of sugar--crystal sugar for coffee, raw sugar and white sugar. "Could we have a little of each sugar please?" Who could refuse them? The answer was, "Yes, but I will give it to you."

They just loved her scones and didn't hesitate to kid her to make them occasionally. As soon as she agreed to make some the little fellow aged about four would go to the cupboards and get the basin, the flour, the milk, the margarine and rolling pin and then tell her what to do next. He even loved to "have a stir" occasionally. They would wait until the scones were baked, six children on one side of the bench and Muriel on the other, and then not only delighted themselves with them but always had to have "one for mum" as well.

There was a stage when Granny who was dying with cancer moved in to stay with them. Muriel visited her occasionally. One morning on seeing the children she said, "I must go in and see Granny today." The children said, "You can't. She's dead." She had died that morning. The family had no minister and did not know what to do for the funeral. Muriel volunteered my services. At the funeral there were the parents of the children, the ten children, Muriel surrounded by them, the teacher from the special school where the retarded boy attended and the welfare worker who used to visit them. As Granny was a Christian and read her Bible I was able, with all the skill [63] I could muster, to make it a meaningful service for the children who were experiencing their first encounter with death. To others they were potential criminals. To us they were lovely children, quite normal and well behaved in our home, needing someone to love them and befriend them.

Eventually they moved away up country but they haven't forgotten us. At Christmas last year we received a lovely card and note from them with a school photo of each of the six children--part of "the family we haven't got".

Conclusion

My puzzle is how to conclude "My Life" story when the life has not yet concluded. There is still a chapter to be written. But what a wonderful life it has been and still is. I have been blessed with wonderful opportunities of ministry, with good health and a wonderfully supportive partner over a period of 55 years to date. True to our wedding vows we have weathered the storms of life together and given praise to God for his blessings and the opportunities of service. I have loved every moment of it.

I have never been bored with my life. I would quite happily live it all over again just as it has been and give God the glory for it. I hope you have enjoyed reading the story. I have enjoyed writing it and re-living it as I have done so. Of course this is only a fraction of what could be written. There are lots of things I haven't mentioned for obvious reasons. Maybe I should write another chapter on "The Secrets of my Life". [64]

SOME WORDS OF TESTIMONY

WHY I BELIEVE JESUS IS SO DIFFERENT
(Sermon preached at the Frankston Church of Christ, Victoria, 5 January, 1992)

On this first Sunday of a New Year I would like to give my personal testimony as to why I believe Jesus is so different from other great religious leaders and why he has a claim on my life that none of the others has.

When you take up your Bibles and begin to read you find the stories of many very great men--men like Abraham and Moses, Samuel and David, Isaiah and Jeremiah, John the Baptist and Saul of Tarsus, just to mention a few selected at random. And you also have the story of Jesus. And the question is as to why Jesus is so different? How is it that he can make a claim on our lives that none of the others can make? We never think for a moment that we should stop and celebrate the birthday of the other great men and yet the very world stops to celebrate the birthday of Jesus. Why is he so different?

I believe there are five ways in which Jesus is different:

• He is different in that he is eternal;
• Though he is eternal he is a fact of history--the historical Jesus;
• Though he was crucified he is alive today;
• He is the sinless son of God;
• He qualifies as the world's only Saviour--the world's only hope.

First then, Jesus is different because He is eternal.

It is important when we are thinking of Jesus as one who lived some two thousand years ago that we go back a little further and realise that he is not just the historic Jesus but he is the eternal Jesus, eternal in the sense that he had no beginning. He was there in that great eternal world with God before the creation of the universe. He existed through those long years of Old Testament history. His coming at Christmas was not his beginning but only his coming in another form.

If you were to read only the gospels of Matthew and Luke you would get the impression that his life began at Bethlehem. But when you read the Gospel of John you get a different idea. John refers to Jesus as the "Word" and says, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him and without him was not anything made that was made". (John 1)

This was not simply the idea of John. Jesus himself made this claim. Speaking of Abraham who was born almost two thousand years before him he said, "I existed before Abraham". (John 8:58) He also prayed that God would glorify him with the glory he had with God before the world began. (John 17:5) [65] John the Baptist who was born six months before Jesus said, "He existed before I was born". (John 1:30)

Paul in his letter to the Philippians wrote, "He always had the nature of God, but did not consider that he should strive to remain equal with God but of his own free will he gave up all that he had and took upon him the form of a servant." (Philippians 2:6-8)

So you see I believe Jesus was no ordinary man. He was there in that great eternal world with God before the universe was created. That is why I believe Jesus is so different.

The second reason why I believe Jesus was so different is that:

He became a fact of history.

I do not anchor my faith in some mysterious being who lived in that great eternal world with God before the foundation of the universe, one who was pre-historic, invisible, intangible, who somehow existed with God in some mysterious way during those long years of Old Testament history but in one who, though he had all these qualities and characteristics, became man. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us". (John 1:14) He became "the visible image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15)--the historical Jesus.

His life story is written in the historic documents of the New Testament. But then, to say the least, the New Testament is an unusual book and we may prefer other evidence. Well there is other evidence that Jesus did exist. His history is written in history outside the Bible. History outside the Bible was not written to tell us the story of Jesus but just here and there as the historians told their story of other matters they dropped a word here and there verifying the documents of the New Testament.

History outside the Bible tells us at least six things about Jesus. It tells us that he existed, that he called disciples, that he was worshipped as God, that he worked miracles, that he was crucified at the hands of a certain man on a certain date in history, and that he rose from the dead.

What more do you want to prove that Jesus really lived, to prove that this eternal, pre-historic, invisible, intangible Jesus became a fact of history? That is why I believe Jesus is so different.

But then you might say, "What has that got to do with today?" And I say again, "My faith is not anchored in a mysterious eternal being, invisible, intangible, who became the visible image of the invisible God and lived two thousand years ago only, but also in one who is alive today."

Jesus is alive today.

True enough he was crucified and that was the end of his earthly existence, but he conquered death and is alive today at the right hand of God.

You know it is really amazing to discover how much people think of Jesus as being in the past. In our communion service we place so much emphasis on the past, on what Christ has done for us, and that is good and right. The communion service is [66] a commemoration of what Christ has done for us. But it is also a communion. We must never forget the living presence of Christ in the communion service. We must never forget that personal encounter with him which comes from true communion. Jesus is not dead. He is alive.

While I was ministering with the church at Brighton in 1980 and 1981,I went for a walk one morning to buy a paper and as I did so I walked past the church and noticed that the Wayside Pulpit notice had been changed. It then read, "Jesus Christ is Lord". I paused a moment and asked myself, "What is that message trying to say? Is it simply saying someone wrote nearly 2,000 years ago, 'Jesus Christ is Lord' simply quoting a text, or is it saying 'Jesus Christ is Lord today'?" As I thought about it there came a strange warming in my heart and I said to myself aloud, "Jesus is alive. Jesus is Lord today! He is the living Christ".

If you were to visit the tombs of other great religious leaders someone would possibly say quite proudly to you, "The bones of Mohammed lie here", or "The bones of Buddha or Confucius lie there". But if you were to visit the tomb of Jesus they would have to say as the angel said on the resurrection morning "He is not here. He has risen as he said." The eternal Christ became the historic Christ and the historic Christ is alive today. That is why I believe he is so different.

The fourth reason why I believe Jesus is so different is

He is the sinless Son of God.

Jesus is the only one who has ever been able to stand before a group of people and say, "Which one of you can convict me of sin?" and not be challenged.

Peter, one of his closest disciples wrote of him as "a lamb without spot or blemish". (1 Peter 1:19)

Paul described him as "He who knew no sin". (2 Corinthians 5:21) The writer of Hebrews wrote, "He was tempted in all points like as we are yet without sin". (Hebrews 4:15)

John wrote "In him was no sin". (1 John 1:5)

Judas said, "I have betrayed innocent blood". (Matthew 22:4)

The thief on the cross said, "This man has done nothing amiss". (Luke 23:41)

Pilate said, "I find no fault in him". (Luke 23:14)

The centurion who stood by the cross said, "Certainly this was a righteous man". (Luke 23:47)

He has been described as "Me purest among the mighty and the mightiest among the pure. Whatever be the surprises of the future this man shall never be surpassed. All ages will proclaim that among the sons of men there is none mightier than he".

And I believe that it is this fact that he is the sinless son of God which makes him so different: [67]

Finally, I believe:

He is the world's only hope.

Jesus says he is the only way: "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man can come unto the Father but by me". (John 14:6)

Peter said, "Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved". (Acts 4:12)

Alexander Campbell one of the founders of the Restoration Movement, now identified as the Churches of Christ, was a great scholar and a great debater. On one occasion he debated the merits of the Christian faith with the great infidel Robert Owen. In the course of the preparation of the debate, Owen visited Campbell. Alexander Campbell took him for a walk which happened to be through the family burial ground. As they passed a certain grave Owen stopped and said to Campbell, "This is where l have it over you. I have no fear in death". Campbell replied, "You have no fear in death but have you any hope?" "No," he replied, "I have no hope in death." Then pointing to a beast in the field nearby Campbell said, "You are in exactly the same position as that beast. It has no fear in death, neither has it any hope."

While I was ministering at the church at Blackburn from 1939-1943 the church wanted to reach out to people who would not normally enter a church building so we hired a huge marquee and erected it on a vacant block of land and entered into an evangelistic campaign. Among those who responded to the gospel was a woman who happened to be the wife of a leading atheist in the area. She made her confession of faith, was baptised and received into the fellowship of the church. Unfortunately she did not have long to stay as she died shortly after. We were greatly concerned as we knew that certain members of the family had been laid to rest without a Christian burial. We were greatly relieved when her husband came to me and said that in respect of her faith he would like me to give her a Christian burial. Then came the shock. There was one condition and it was that he would speak fast at the open grave. We were greatly concerned and wondered what might happen. But we need not have worried, as he did little more than quote some words from a poem Robert Ingersol had written at the death of his brother which contained these words:

He had no fear of death. Neither had he any hope. It was cold, so dead, so comfortless. Imagine my joy in stepping forward with the words of Christian hope: [68]

"Jesus said, 'I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me though he were dead yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'" (John 11:25)

We have no fear in death. We can see beyond the heights. And we have lots and lots of hope.

The wages of sin and unbelief is death, but "the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord".

Jesus is different--he pre-existed, he became a fact of history, he is alive today, he is the sinless son of God and as the world's only Saviour he makes a claim on our lives. If we commit our lives to him we are saved. If we do not we are lost we are without hope.

It is now over seventy-two years since as a boy I realised that Jesus was so different and gave my life to him. I was baptised and received into the fellowship of the church. I have given over sixty years in Christian ministry since I began with my first student church. And I would like to say that if I could live my life again, I would have no hesitation about doing it again--because I believe Jesus is so different and I should respond to the claim he has on my life. He died for me. I should live for him.

WHY I BELIEVE GOD IS SO GREAT
(Sermon preached at Frankston Church of Christ 19 January, 1992)

In my address two weeks ago, I gave what amounted to a personal testimony as to why I believed Jesus to be so different. Today I would like to tell you why I have such great faith in God to supply my every need. I would base my confidence on the words given to us through the prophet Isaiah.

In Isaiah 41:10 we have these words: "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness".

In these words we have a fivefold assurance:

• I am with you;
• I am your God;
• I will strengthen you;
• I will help you;
• I will uphold you.

I wonder if you realise this as you move around day by day living your life as it comes to you moment by moment. Do you realise that God is with you to strengthen and help you? Listen again as he says, "I am with you.  . .I am your God.  . .I will strengthen you.  . .I will help you.  . .I will uphold you. . ."

Let us look at these assurances one by one: [69]

Fear not for I am with you.

Nothing could be more assuring or comforting than this. God is always there. God is always everywhere.

I remember my mother saying this to me in my middle teenage years. We used to own a block of grazing land away up in the mountains, miles away from the nearest established home. It was a thousand acre block and we ran a few store bullocks on it and felled the timber and carted it to the mill with a horse team. When we were there we lived in a little slab hut. It was really a man's world up there. You were so very much alone. If you stayed there at night you might hear the dingoes howling, or perhaps hear a fox yelping nearby. You might hear a bandicoot zipping past, or the whistle of the curlew, or the hoot of the owl, or the possums in the oak trees making their weird cries! You might hear the bullocks bellowing and stampeding. Well, every now and then when we went to work just for the day we might take our mother with us. We would leave her at the but while we went up the mountains or the gullies to work. She must have felt terribly alone while we were away and I can remember her commenting on it one day. She said how everything was so still and so quiet and you seemed to be so far away from everyone. But then she said, "It makes you feel that you are alone there with God--God is always there. God is always everywhere." She didn't realise it I suppose but she was really quoting Jeremiah for he said the same thing. So you see you are never alone.

The Psalmist realised this when he wrote Psalm 139. He said, "Where shall I go from your spirit? Where shall I fly from your presence? If I ascend to heaven--you are there. If I make my bed in hell you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea--you are there. If I try to take shelter in the darkness even then your light is round about me. . ." He was really saying that God is always there. God is always everywhere.

Jacob had forgotten this when he ran away from home as he feared his brother Esau. Out in the wilderness or out in the desert, wherever he was, he thought he was all alone. He took a stone for a pillow and lay down to sleep. But he had a dream or a vision and he saw a ladder reaching from earth to heaven with angels ascending and descending and "behold the Lord stood above it". He cried, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I knew it not. This is none other than the house of God and this is the gate of heaven." (Genesis 28)

Let us then hear God say, "Fear not for I am with you". Yes, God is always there. God is always everywhere.

God says further:

I am your God.

You know there is a vast difference between us saying, "You are my God"--claiming that God is ours, and God saying, "I am your God"--claiming that we are his.

There is a vast difference between us making a claim on Jesus as our friend and he claiming us as his. He said to his disciples, "You are my friends.  . . you have not chosen me. I have chosen you. . ." How much more precious that is to us for him to claim us. [70]

I remember an experience we had when we were first married. We had taken a trip to Queensland from Victoria. We were the proud owners of a little cream and black Singer coupe. We could arrange it as a sleeper and sleep on the roadside. On the return journey we decided to visit the Jenolan Caves. We had slept in the car on the roadside and because it was so cold and we were short of water we didn't spruce ourselves up quite as well as usual. We felt very creased and travel-worn. I hadn't even shaved. When we got to Jenolan we needed a meal and the only suitable place seemed to be the Tourist Hotel. Muriel took one look at it and refused to go in. "We can't go in like this," she said, "someone might see us." I persuaded her that no one in the world would know us there. We would be totally unknown and no one would give us a second glance. We selected a table away over in the corner with our faces away from the entrance and hoped for the best. We had no sooner settled in than out of the corner of my eye I saw someone I knew coming in with a band of men who were there at a conference. The man was none other than our Victorian Conference President. I did not dare to rush over and take him by the hand and greet him as a friend. He might have ignored me as he sat with his selective group. But all of a sudden he noticed us, left his friends, put his arm around my shoulder and said in a loud voice, "Hello Brother Bischoff. How marvellous to see you." He was saying, "I am your friend." And no matter how dishevelled we may feel God puts his arm around our shoulders and says, "I am your God."

Then he says:

I will strengthen you.

You might remember the story of Elijah that great man of God. He had won victory after victory but in doing so he had completely exhausted himself physically and spiritually. When Jezebel threatened his life he simply got up and ran away into the wilderness and laid down beneath a juniper tree. He wished that he might die. He cried, "It is enough, O Lord, take away my life. I am no better than my fathers." But as he rested there God sent a messenger to him saying, "Elijah, what are you doing here? The journey is too great for you. Arise and eat." This happened a second time. God was saying, "I will strengthen you. . ." And he arose and ate and went in the strength of that meat for forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of the Lord. (1 Kings 19). You see, God has his eye on us and will strengthen us in times of weakness.

He also says:

I will help you.

God doesn't just stand by and give good advice like a barracker at a football match. He lends that helping hand.

I remember an incident in the Northern Territory that I read about in the newspaper some time ago. A man went swimming and was caught by the hand by a crocodile. He was in danger of being dragged under. There was a thirteen year old aboriginal girl on the bank who saw his predicament. She didn't just shout out good advice. She ran into the water, grabbed his other hand and dragged him out. Like God [71] she was saying, "I will help you".

Our final thought is:

I will uphold you.

When I was a boy going to school we were taught how to be saved when in danger of drowning, and I remember this advice--if you are in danger of going under and a lifesaver comes to rescue you, don't try to save yourself by grabbing him--if you do you will probably both go under. Entrust yourself to him. Let him rescue you. He will keep your head above water and swim out with you. He will "uphold you". This is what God says, "When you feel you are going under, I will uphold you. Trust me".

You have probably heard of Hudson Taylor the great missionary. He faced a situation of despair and discouragement one day and he took out his New Testament to look for hope. He read the story of the barren fig tree. The disciples were amazed that it withered so quickly when Jesus cursed it for having "nothing but leaves" and when they looked to Jesus for some explanation he said to them, "Have faith in God." As he read the story in his Greek New Testament Hudson Taylor suddenly realised that those words could be translated not simply, "Have faith in God", but "Hold on to the faithfulness of God". Entrust yourself entirely to him. He will uphold you.

So we have this fivefold assurance:

"I am with you"--when you are feeling all alone.
"I am your God"--when you are feeling insecure.
"I will strengthen you"--when you are so desperately weak.
"I will help you"--when you are in trouble.
"I will uphold you"--when you are in danger of going under.

As the hymn says:

"I am with you.  . . I am your God.  . . I will strengthen you .  . . I will help you. . . I will uphold you." It is this fivefold assurance that gives me such great faith in God. I am confident he can and will supply my every need. [72]

WHY I BELONG TO THE CHURCH--THE GLORIOUS CHURCH
(Preached at Frankston Church of Christ in March, 1991)

I wonder if you have ever told anyone a story about something that was very precious to you and it was quite evident they didn't see the point--they didn't get the message. To you the story may have been very interesting, very touching, very challenging and inspiring but to them it meant nothing at all.

This is an experience we often get in preaching. It is possible to dig into a text or passage of Scripture and find something that is really quite exciting but the question is how to get what you have discovered over to those who are listening. How can you make them see the point or get the message?

I'm in a situation like this this morning. I have caught a vision of the church, the glorious church. I think the church is marvellous. I think it is glorious. It is a great privilege to belong to it, a priceless privilege and this is a tremendous responsibility.

We are told "Christ loved the church and gave himself for it.  . . that he might present it to himself a glorious church not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that it might be holy and without blemish." (Ephesians 4:25a, 27)

He loved the church and gave himself for it. The challenge to us is to love the church and give ourselves for it. It is a glorious church. To belong to it is a priceless privilege which brings with it a tremendous responsibility.

Let us then take a look at the glorious church this morning.

• It is glorious in its promise.
• It is glorious in its foundation.
• It is glorious in its mission.
• It is glorious in its Head.
• It is glorious in its membership.

The Church is glorious in the promise of its establishment.

It all happened like this. There was in a sense a church in Old Testament days. Paul speaks about Moses being in "the church in the wilderness", (Acts 7:39) and says God will raise up a prophet like him. "Church" comes from the Greek word "ecclesia" which means a called out people. The people of Israel were the "called out people of God" and in a sense they were the church. But to be called out by God to be his people, brings with it responsibility. Israel failed God and through Jesus he told them that the kingdom would be taken away from them and given to a new people, a new Israel, a new people of God. (Matthew 21).

And it happened like this. There was a man named Jesus who claimed to be the Son of God. He healed the sick, gave sight to the blind made the lame walk, cleansed the leper and even raised the dead. He was a mighty teacher--people said of him, "From whence hath this man these things and what is this mighty wisdom that [73] is given to him?" "Never man spoke like this man". "He speaks with authority, not like the Scribes and Pharisees". Well, one day he was walking along the coast of Caesarea Philippi with his disciples and he decided to ask them a question, indeed two questions. He wasn't seeking information. He knew the answers but he was creating in them an expectancy, a readiness to receive the message he had for them.

The first question was: "Who do men say that I, the Son of Man, am?" The disciples were ready with an answer and it was a sad one. It was that Jesus stood unrecognised but he had made a tremendous impression on them. Some were saying that he was John the Baptist, others that he was Elijah, others that he might be Jeremiah, others didn't quite know what to think and thought he might be one of the prophets but they weren't sure which one it might be. (Matthew 16)

There was nothing very degrading to be thought of as John the Baptist because he was the greatest man that ever lived. Even Jesus said, "Among those born of women there has not risen a greater than John the Baptist".

There was nothing to be ashamed of to be recognised as Elijah for the prophet Malachi had said that Elijah would fast come before that great and terrible day of the Lord. He is extolled in the New Testament more than any other prophet.

There was nothing wrong in being thought of as Jeremiah. He was the prophet who just could not stop preaching. He said, "His word is like a fire burning in my heart". He could not stop preaching. He could not withstand it.

To be thought of as a prophet was high praise. But Jesus was more than that. That wasn't the answer Jesus wanted. So he turned to his disciples with a second question: "But who do you say that I am?" Before they could think their way through this question God came to the rescue. He revealed to them that Jesus was the Messiah, that he was the Son of God. Peter answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."

It was then, upon this foundational truth, that Jesus made the mighty promise: "Upon this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." So the church was glorious in the promise of its establishment.

The Church is glorious in its foundation.

The church of Jesus Christ is different from every other institution on earth. Every other institution was founded by man. The church was founded by God. It is not human but divine. It was founded at a divinely appointed time, at a divinely appointed place, by divinely appointed men.

Jesus had said, "Repentance and remission of sin should be preached among all nations beginning at Jerusalem". It was there the church was to begin.

Jesus had instructed his disciples to remain in Jerusalem until they received power from on high. That was to be the time.

He had said, "You shall be my witnesses". They were the men.

And at the divinely appointed place, Jerusalem, at the divinely appointed time, by the divinely appointed men the church was established on the day of [74] Pentecost. Three thousand souls were added to the kingdom that day and "the Lord added to the church daily such as were being saved".

So the church was glorious in its foundation, and the church didn't stop there. Truly three thousand souls were added but as we read on we find again after further preaching, "Howbeit many of them which heard the word believed and the number of men was above five thousand." (Acts 4:4)

Then "And the Word of God increased and the number of disciples multiplied .  .  and a great company of priests were added to the faith". (Acts 6:7)

"And the number of the disciples was multiplied. . ." (Acts 6:1)

"And the number of disciples multiplied greatly in Jerusalem." (Acts 6:7)

So you see: three thousand, five thousand, they increased greatly, multitudes were added, the multitudes were multiplied. . . The church was glorious in its foundation.

The Church is glorious in its mission

No institution ever had a greater mission. It is world-wide in its scope. It includes the redemption and regeneration of all mankind: every man, every woman and every child, everywhere. There is not a person anywhere in the world beyond its scope.

The commission was to "Go to all peoples everywhere and make them disciples". "Preach the Gospel to every creature". "Jesus sent out through his disciples from the East to the West the sacred and everlasting message of salvation". "Whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life." What a glorious mission!

The Church is glorious in its Head

Christ is the head of the church. I think this is the most difficult part of the whole address: to make you feel the importance, the privilege, the responsibility of belonging to the church of which Christ is the head. Just think of it Jesus Christ, the Son of God! The Messiah! The chosen one, the anointed one of God! The one who created the world, healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, raised the dead, cleansed the leper! The one who said, "I will build my church." He is the head of the church. And we belong to this church. Don't you think that is tremendous! There could be no greater privilege in the world than to say, "I belong to the church--and Christ is the head."

The Church is glorious in its membership

Christians are different from everyone else in the world. They may not appear to be, but they are. You may not be able to pick them out in a crowd. But they are different in that they are walking toward an eternity of bliss with Jesus Christ. They will be admitted into the very presence of God. They will hear him say, "You are my people and I am your God." Paul said, "Eye has not seen nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the hearts of men, the things God has prepared for them that love Him." (1 Corinthians 2).

Maybe you do not belong to the church and you would like to belong to it today. You can do this not by joining an organisation or a group of people, or by having [75] your name placed on a roll, but by accepting Jesus Christ into your life, publicly declaring that you believe in Him and have accepted Him as Saviour, and, according to His command and example, being identified with Him in baptism. You join the church by joining Christ. You cannot be a member without a commitment to Him.

Conclusion

You see what I am getting at, don't you? I am telling you why I belong to the church. I believe it is a glorious church. I think it is tremendous. I am proud and privileged to belong to it. I know no greater privilege than to give my life in its service. It is a glorious church. It is glorious in its promise, glorious in its foundation, glorious in its mission, glorious in its head and glorious in its membership.

I am offering you right now, free of cost to you, the greatest privilege in the world--the privilege of becoming a member of this glorious church by becoming a member of the body of Christ. Why not accept that offer right now? [76]

MINISTERIAL APPOINTMENTS

Weekend Student Ministries:
Drummond Church of Christ, Vic	7/12/30 to 27111/32
Bet Bet Church of Christ, Vic	4/12/32 to 30/09/34
Full time Church Ministries:
North Richmond Church of Christ, Vic	28/10/34 to 26/7/36
Swan Hill, Ultima and Woorinen Churches of Christ, Vic	23/8/36 to 31/7/39
Blackburn Church of Christ, Vic	1/8/39 to 15/07/43
Wellington South, NZ	1/8/43 to 31/7/48
St Andrew Street, Dunedin, NZ	1/8/48 to 31/7/51
Marrickville, Sydney, NSW	1/l/57 to 31/12/59
Part-time Interim Ministries:
Brighton, Vic	1/1/80 to 30/12/81
Chadstone, Vic	1/1/82 to 31/12/83
Honorary Pastoral Ministries:
Montrose, Vic, Interim, Weekends	1/7/84 to 31/12/85
Frankston, Vic, Pastoral Ministry to elderly	1/7186 to present
Ministries with Christian Organisations:
NZ Council for Christian Education in Schools, Supervisor for Otago and Southland	1/8/51 to 30/12/56
Bible Society of Otago & Southland, NZ, General Sec/Director	1/1/60 to 19/9/64
Regional Secretary, The Bible Society in NZ	20/9/64 to 19/10/73
General Secretary of the Associated Churches of Christ in NZ	1/11/73 to 31/10/79 [77]

Rotated View of Genealogy Chart.