Feast of the Martyrs of New Guinea

Christ Church Cathedral, Ballarat

18 October 2014
Texts: Rom 8:33-39
John 12:20-32
A martyr, as everybody knows, is someone who is killed as a direct result of their faith. The Oxford English
Dictionary, no less, tells us it is so. Everyone knows this, and to drive the point home, we have already
celebrated three such martyrs this week. Yesterday, we remembered St Ignatius of Antioch. He was a bishop in
the early second century, in what is now Syria. When the Roman Emperor Trajan began a persecution of
Christians, he was tried by his Roman accusers and convicted of being a Christian, taken in chains to Rome, and
thrown into the Colosseum to be torn apart by wild beasts for the entertainment of the people. He was killed for
being a Christian. The day before, Thursday, we remembered two more martyrs, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas
Ridley. They were English bishops, reformers, protestants, who were burnt at the stake in Broad Street, Oxford in
1555, by the Roman Catholic Queen of England, Mary I. They were not killed for being Christians. They were
killed for being the wrong kind of Christian. The Church, throughout history, has proved quite good at creating
its own martyrs, without any help from Roman emperors or other worldly powers. But in each case, their faith
was the direct cause of their death.
The twenty-two men and women we gather to celebrate today are not martyrs in this classical sense of the word.
They were not killed for the crime of being Christians. They were Christians, certainly. Their faith lead them to
place themselves in danger for their sake of their fellow Christians, certainly. But they were not killed because
they were Christians. To take just three quick examples: Henry Matthews, who was born in my parish, at
Moyston, and his companion Leslie Gariardi, died when the troopship on which they were being evacuated was
dive-bombed by a Japanese plane. The Japanese pilot did not even knew that they were on board, much less
target them for being Christians. Or again, many of those we are remembering today, including Vivien Redlich,
Margery Brenchly and Lilla Lashmar, were executed, beheaded, by the Japanese on Buna Beach, along with
many more captured soldiers and other Australian Army personnel, and at least one young child. They were not
singled out by the Japanese because of their religious commitment; they were simply killed like all the others for
reasons of military strategy and expediency. Or again, Lucian Tapiedi, another of those we remember, was
hacked to death by another hatchet-wielding native, not because he was a Christian, but because the killer
believed the day of the European in New Guinea was over.
None of them was killed for being a Christian; they were killed because of their ethnicity, for being in the
language of the time European, that is, white-skinned, or in the case of the indigenous people we are
remembering today, for being collaborators with the Europeans, for military reasons or through blind chance, or
in the case of Bernard Moore, by illness, malaria.
It is important to be careful, accurate and honest in our thinking about this, because that honesty sets us free to
celebrate something even more important about these 22 people. More important than the way a Christian dies,
is the way that they live. And those we are remembering are exemplary, outstanding examples of how a

Christian should live. Again and again, they put their communities, their Christian brothers and sisters first,
trudging through miles of dense jungle to bring the eucharist and pastoral care to remote villages, refusing to
leave their mission posts and schools when advised to do so, because they would not abandon their people. One
of them, John Duffill, already attacked once by the Japanese at Gona, when he became due for leave three
months later, declined, saying that he wanted to stay with his people and his bishop, until he too was beheaded at
Buna Beach. Again and again and again, as you read their biographies, you realize that here are people who
walked in the steps of Christ, who if they did not quite hate their life in this world, were willing to place it
beneath the needs of their brothers and sisters, and beneath the call to service, and were willing to risk it in order
to do the work of the church, until they could do it no more.
It is for this reason, for the way that they lived, that they are the perfect patron saints for this Diocese. My first
training vicar in Melbourne, many years ago, John Ball-breaker Howells, as he was known (affectionately) by
the young curates of the diocese, was fond of saying that the problem with theological education and young
clergy today is that its all me, me, me endless introspection, self-examination and critique, spiritual
development, and not enough about them, them, them, the people we are called to serve. Whether thats true
or not, I am not bold enough to say, but I am bold enough to say that these twenty-two women and men, some
ordained, some not, some Australian, some not, lift our heads out of self-involvement, stretch open our horizons
and put our call to serve others front and centre. And, I am bold enough to say that these patron saints of ours
find themselves in good company in this diocese. I would be astonished if you could not right now name six,
eight, a score of people who are outstanding examples of how a Christian should live. My parish is full of them,
and although my parish is of course exceptional, it is by no means unique. One parishioner, himself sick with
cancer, goes up to a local nursing home several times a week to spoon-feed the demented and those who can no
longer feed themselves, when he should be getting his own rest or finishing the renovations on his home.
Another pours his energy and skills into parish council and the sometimes thankless grind of diocesan committee
work, when he would rather be looking after a recuperating wife, or off camping somewhere. Another pours her
energy into quiet, gentle unseen pastoral care, and leading in our worship with remarkable grace and poise when
she would often rather be with family. Yet another is tireless in coordinating food and emergency relief for the
hungry and desperate, always available at the drop of hat to offer help, whatever else might be going on in his
life. You know people just like that. The diocese is full of them. Some of the most admirable, do their work
quietly in places where visits by the ordained are rare or infrequent, taking up the costly task of weaving
networks of care and fellowship among the isolated and lonely, bringing the love of Christ into hospital
auxiliaries, community groups, whatever opportunities for service they can find. These are people who, like our
patron saints, show us how we should live.
-The Revd Canon Dr Timothy Gaden
Parish of Ararat
Canon Theologian, Anglican Diocese of Ballarat
tim@ballaratanglican.org.au | Mob 0488 110 415
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