Professional Documents
Culture Documents
On
5th
November,
2001,
the
death
occurred
of
Father
Austin
Day.
The
following
is
a
tribute
to
Father
Austin
presented
by
Father
David
Chislett
at
High
Mass,
at
All
Saints'
Wickham
Terrace,
Brisbane,
Australia,
on
the
following
Sunday,
11th
November.
"God's
in
his
heaven,
Austin
Day's
at
Christ
Church,
and
all's
right
in
the
world."
So
it
was
said
for
many
years
by
Australian
Anglo-Catholics,
indicating
the
crucial
role
of
both
Christ
Church
St
Laurence
(set
right
in
the
midst
of
the
Diocese
of
Sydney)
and
Father
Austin
Day
whose
ministry
of
spiritual
direction
and
encouragement
sustained
the
lives
of
countless
priests
and
lay
people
right
across
Australia
and
beyond
our
shores.
Father
Austin,
Rector
of
Christ
Church
from
1964
to
1996,
died
last
Monday,
following
a
difficult
struggle
with
motor
neuron
disease.
I
first
met
Father
Austin
when
I
was
an
impressionable
teenager
from
Sydney's
working
class
western
suburbs.
It
was
1968.
He
had
been
at
Christ
Church
less
than
four
years,
but
was
already
making
his
own
mark
on
the
parish.
The
thing
that
struck
me
was
how
very
cultured
he
was,
how
wide
were
his
interests
and
reading,
and
at
the
same
time
how
much
he
loved
the
Lord
Jesus
in
a
genuine
and
unfussy
way.
This
was
recognised
by
the
evangelical
clergy
of
his
acquaintance
and
it
contributed
as
much
to
the
growing
relationship
between
Christ
Church
and
the
Diocese
of
Sydney
as
any
deliberate
attempt
at
rapprochement.
He
was
always
trying
to
bring
people
to
Jesus.
Just
listen
to
this
passage
from
a
sermon
he
preached
in
July
1983
about
John
Henry
Newman:
Newman
knew
God
had
called
him
.
.
.
As
he
was
personally
chosen
by
God,
raised
up
to
present
catholic
truth
as
it
is
in
Jesus
and
as
it
is
believed
by
Anglicans,
so
are
we
called
today
to
do
just
that,
as
individuals
and
as
the
people
of
Christ
Church
St
Laurence,
just
as
the
Jews
were
specially
called
of
old
as
a
peculiar
people
for
Gods
own
possession
You
are
a
people
holy
to
the
Lord
your
God;
the
Lord
your
earth
to
be
his
special
possession
(Deuteronomy
7:6).
Likewise
Jesus
said
to
His
disciples
in
His
final
discourses
at
the
Last
Supper,
You
did
not
choose
me,
no,
I
chose
you:
and
I
commissioned
you
(John
16:16.)
The
idea
of
being
chosen
by
God
seems
odd
and
frightening
-
odd
because
it
smacks
of
favouritism;
frightening
because
it
presents
a
God
who
intervenes
in
our
lives
and
in
His
world.
Despite
that,
the
Catholic
belief
is
that
we
are
called
and
set
This
photograph
of
Father
Austin
apart
for
Gods
service
in
our
Baptism,
as
Newman
was;
and
was
taken
at
St
John's
Horsham
right
on
through
the
whole
of
our
lives,
God
continues
to
call
us
(Diocese
of
Ballarat)
in
1989
by
the
to
Himself,
not
for
any
merit
we
possess
but
because
in
His
photographer
of
the
Wimmera
Mail-
providence
we
are
the
appropriate
persons
for
particular
tasks.
Times.
God
said
It
was
not
because
you
were
more
numerous
than
any
other
nation
that
the
Lord
chose
you,
for
you
were
the
smallest
of
all
nations:
it
was
because
the
Lord
loved
you.
Furthermore,
as
Gods
call
comes
to
us
as
particular
persons,
inevitably
it
must
be
a
very
intimate
association
that
He
has
with
us
.
.
.
So
Jesus
says,
I
call
you
friends,
because
I
have
made
known
to
you
everything
I
have
learnt
from
my
Father
(John
15:15).
With
a
pious
Evangelical
family
upbringing
it
is
no
wonder
that
Newman
had
a
dramatic
sense
of
being
chosen
by
God
for
a
particular
work
as
priest
and
prophet.
We
too
as
Anglican
Catholics
today
are
to
follow
that
close
and
intimate
call
of
the
Saviour;
to
be
the
Sons
and
daughters
of
God,
the
friends
of
Jesus,
the
child
of
God
.
.
.
AND
that
is
a
call
to
personal
holiness
(as
Newmans
was),
to
sacrifice
and
service
too,
to
private
prayer,
and
public
worship.
Father
Austins
deep
and
personal
response
to
the
love
of
the
Lord
Jesus
sustained
him
in
the
wide
range
of
responsibilities
that
were
his
as
Rector
of
Christ
Church.
It
was
apparent
in
the
healing
ministry.
He
took
over
his
predecessors
motto,
Jesus
Christ,
the
same,
yesterday,
today
and
forever
(Hebrews
13:8),
and
in
turn
helped
countless
individuals
come
to
know
the
forgiveness,
love
and
healing
of
Jesus
in
their
lives.
HEALING
MINISTRY
Christ
Churchs
healing
ministry
had
been
established
by
Father
John
Hope
many
years
before.
It
was
continued
and
developed
by
Father
Austin,
week
in
and
week
out.
Privately
in
homes
and
hospitals,
and
publicly
in
the
weekly
healing
services,
the
prayer
of
faith,
the
laying
on
of
hands
and
the
sacrament
of
anointing
were
all
commonplace.
As
in
the
Gospels,
the
healing
ministry
was
the
means
by
which
multitudes
found
the
Saviours
love
to
be
real.
So
many
without
any
church
background
whatsoever
discovered
the
community
of
faith
and
love
by
being
brought
along
to
a
Christ
Church
healing
service.
Ill
never
forget
the
visits
to
Christ
Church
of
the
great
Church
of
England
healing
lady,
Mary
Rodgers!
On
her
first
Sunday,
the
healing
service
began
with
High
Mass
at
10.30am
and
went
right
through
the
afternoon.
It
included
Evensong
and
Benediction,
lasting
until
midnight,
with
large
numbers
of
parishioners
showing
faith,
love
and
hospitality
to
the
needy
whose
coming
and
going
made
Christ
Church
look
like
a
railway
station!
Father
Austin
was
in
his
element!
Prayer
for
the
sick
always
played
a
key
role
in
the
evangelistic
missions
he
himself
conducted
in
many
parts
of
the
country.
But
he
also
wove
that
ministry
into
the
normal
fabric
of
parish
life.
Some
years
before
the
Mary
Rogers
visit,
the
best
master
of
ceremonies
in
the
parish
had
come
down
with
a
very
bad
virus,
and
looked
as
if
he
would
be
in
bed
for
all
of
Holy
Week.
Father
Austin
couldnt
bear
the
thought
of
the
elaborate
Holy
Week
liturgies
becoming
muddled,
so
he
took
the
Blessed
Sacrament
and
the
healing
oil
to
the
M.C.s
house
where
in
response
to
the
prayer
of
faith
and
the
power
of
the
risen
Lord
in
the
Sacraments,
the
M.C.
was
marvelously
restored
to
health
so
as
to
fulfil
his
unique
ministry
in
the
parish
community.
Holy
Week
that
year
went
with
even
more
pizazz
than
usual!
NO
LIGHTWEIGHT
Father
Austin
preached
simple
sermons,
generously
laced
with
poetry,
and
peppered
with
geographical
and
artistic
allusions.
This
led
some
people
to
imagine
that
he
was
a
theological
lightweight.
How
wrong
they
were!
In
1977,
John
Hick,
Don
Cupit
and
their
friends
produced
a
book
of
essays
entitled,
The
Myth
of
God
Incarnate.
These
were
Church
of
England
clergymen
denying
the
real
divinity
of
Christ.
Of
course,
most
of
the
non-evangelical
Australian
theological
schools
had
been
adapting
themselves
to
reductionist
Christologies
for
some
time,
with
the
result
that
today
-
to
all
intents
and
purposes
-
their
Jesus
seems
not
much
more
than
an
intensely
good
and
inspired
man.
This
was
certainly
not
a
development
of
which
Father
Austin
approved.
I
was
at
High
Mass
on
that
memorable
morning
shortly
after
the
publication
of
The
Myth
of
God
Incarnate
when
he
presented
what
was
really
a
spirited
and
tightly
argued
lecture
defending
the
true
Biblical
and
patristic
understanding
of
Jesus
with
such
depth,
scholarship
and
relevance
as
to
be
congratulated
the
very
next
day
by
the
evangelical
diocesan
leaders
to
whom
it
had
been
enthusiastically
reported!
REAL
PRAYER
It
was
Father
Austins
intense
devotion
to
Jesus
as
his
Saviour
and
Lord
that
was
apparent
at
High
Mass
during
which
he
prayed
earnestly,
reaching
out
to
the
Father
-
as
he
so
often
said
-
in
union
with
the
perfect
self
offering
of
Jesus.
He
celebrated
(as
once
used
to
be
said
of
holy
priests)
with
great
recollection.
The
same
was
true
of
the
Daily
Office,
weekday
Masses,
healing
prayers
and
periods
of
quiet
and
meditation.
For
him,
all
prayer
was
mystical
and
deeply
personal.
He
was
perfectly
relaxed
with
extempore
prayer
when
ministering
to
the
sick
as
well
as
to
those
who
came
for
spiritual
direction.
Gently
and
in
a
most
natural
way
he
would
speak
to
our
Father
God
about
the
problems
experienced
or
the
direction
sought,
sometimes
with
the
laying
on
of
hands,
sometimes
just
holding
hands,
or
with
his
hand
on
the
other
persons
shoulder;
even
back
in
the
time
when
Australian
Anglo-Catholics
tended
to
be
uncomfortable
with
anything
less
formal
than
collects
from
a
prayer
book.
INCARNATION
The
marriage
of
the
formal
and
the
informal,
the
concern
to
integrate
spirituality
with
the
rest
of
life,
and
the
conviction
that
the
Mass
and
the
other
sacraments
really
do
bring
us
Gods
grace,
all
flowed
from
Father
Austins
incarnational
theology.
The
Incarnation
was
not
just
an
historical
event
for
him:
it
was
the
ongoing
mystery
of
Gods
way
with
us
now.
It
lay
at
the
heart
of
Christ
Churchs
worship;
it
remained
the
inner
principle
of
the
parishs
life;
it
motivated
the
welfare
ministry
of
the
parish.
But
the
Mass
WAS
central,
and
to
make
this
point,
I
give
you
another
piece
of
that
same
sermon:
As
Anglican
Catholics
today
we
perceive
God
as
transcendent
and
beyond
us
in
majesty
ever
to
be
worshipped
and
adored;
and
we
see
Him
as
coming
down
from
Heaven
in
the
person
of
Christ,
a
man
among
men,
but
also
a
tiny
helpless
Baby
to
be
loved
and
caressed
by
the
Blessed
Virgin
Mary
and
S.
Joseph
those
many
years
ago;
and
we
know
him
today,
in
His
world,
in
the
persons
of
our
neighbours
and
friends,
in
the
poor
and
needy,
in
the
sick
and
the
imprisoned.
But
above
all
we
perceive
Him
by
faith
in
these
Holy
Mysteries,
in
the
Breaking
of
the
Bread
.
.
.
intimately
and
lovingly.
Father
Austin
proceeded
to
one
of
his
favourite
quotes,
this
time
from
Bishop
Mervyn
Stockwood:
I
think
of
the
Mass
as
a
golden
cord
that
begins
at
Bethlehem,
proceeds
to
Calvary
and
the
Easter
Garden,
continues
through
the
joys
and
sufferings
of
mankind
till
it
reaches
the
kingdom
of
God.
As
it
passes
over
the
table
I
know
that
I
am
pegged
on
to
it
and
that,
as
I
take
the
broken
bread
and
drink
from
the
Cup,
the
Lord
is
in
the
midst,
just
as
years
ago
he
walked
on
Easter
evening
with
two
disciples
along
the
road
to
Emmaus,
before
making
himself
known
in
the
breaking
of
the
bread.
To
know
the
risen
Jesus
was
everything
to
Father
Austin.
To
proclaim
the
Gospel
of
Gods
love
was
his
passion,
and
to
care
for
those
who
came
his
way
was
his
sacred
calling.
HUMAN
NATURE
Father
Austin
held
a
high
view
of
human
nature
as
being
in
the
image
of
God
while
at
the
same
time
he
taught
and
lived
the
gospel
of
redemption
in
Christ.
Sin
was
a
reality
to
be
dealt
with.
He
never
compromised
on
that.
His
understanding
of
human
sinfulness
was
far
more
realistic
and
gritty
than
is
often
found
these
days
in
Anglican
circles.
Yes,
the
image
of
God
is
marred
(sometimes,
he
would
say,
twisted
and
almost
hopelessly
deformed),
but,
the
Creator
God
and
the
Redeemer
God
are
one
and
the
same,
and
through
faith
and
the
Sacraments,
and
the
caring
ministry
of
the
spirit-filled
community
gathered
at
the
altar,
we
enter
into
the
mystery
of
redeeming
love,
divine
forgiveness,
and
transformation.
There
is
always
forgiveness,
he
would
say.
His
own
daily
life
was
extraordinarily
disciplined.
At
one
level
he
was
always
on
his
guard
against
those
weaknesses
of
his
that
might
get
in
the
way
of
what
God
was
doing
through
him.
That
very
much
accounted
for
an
old
fashioned
austerity
-
even
severity
-
which
balanced
the
other
side
of
his
temperament
-
his
infectious
love
of
art,
beauty,
humour,
fine
wines,
witty
company
and
sumptuous
celebration.
There
is
always
forgiveness.
Some
people
hurt
him
very
deeply,
causing
him
immense
pain.
He
always
struggled
to
overcome
that
.
.
.
but
those
same
people
found
him
amazingly
ready
to
forgive,
even
if
the
re-establishment
of
trust
took
longer.
He
once
said
about
the
priesthood
that
its
our
job
to
absorb
the
pain
and
take
it
to
the
Lord
who
gives
us
the
grace
to
deal
with
it.
In
an
uncanny
way,
Father
Austin
had
many
of
the
qualities
which
the
English
saw
in
Cardinal
Hume.
He
was
everybodys
Father
Austin
-
my
priest
to
so
many
people,
inside
and
outside
the
Church,
and
in
every
walk
of
life.
He
was
gentle
-
and
indulgent,
even
-
towards
the
entire
range
of
those
who
wandered
their
spiritual
and
emotional
wastelands.
Yet
he
was
thoroughly
orthodox,
and
without
exception
tried
to
point
those
whose
lives
he
touched
to
the
Saviour.
A
phrase
from
the
eulogy
at
Cardinal
Humes
funeral
so
marvelously
applied
to
Father
Austin
.
.
.
the
Christ-like
instinct
was
to
count
the
lost
sheep
IN,
and
never
OUT.
I
think
back
to
my
time
as
a
Deacon
in
1979
when
I
innocently
walked
into
an
argument
Father
Austin
was
having
with
some
of
the
heavies
who
thought
that
Christ
Church
was
built
on
great
liturgy
and
fine
music.
He
became
more
and
more
agitated
and
eventually
declared
with
magisterial
finality:
We
certainly
have
great
liturgy
and
fine
music,
but
Christ
Church
is
actually
built
on
two
things:
the
preaching
of
the
Gospel,
and
catholic
pastoral
care.
That
is
what
he
really
believed.
It
is
not
surprising
that
a
vast
number
of
young
men
were
influenced
by
Father
Austin
to
offer
themselves
for
the
priesthood.
He
nurtured
us,
inspired
us,
persevered
with
us,
and
was
always
there
when
we
needed
him,
even
decades
later.
Much
is
written
in
our
time
about
the
priest
as
a
professional
or
a
manager.
For
Father
Austin,
being
a
priest
was
much
more
like
being
an
artist.
He
waited
on
inspiration;
he
followed
his
spiritual
hunches.
He
expected
to
be
able
to
see
just
where
God
is
already
working
in
the
lives
of
those
who
came
to
him.
He
believed
in
the
immediate
inspiration
of
the
Holy
Spirit.
He
painted
on
the
broadest
of
canvasses.
Or,
in
a
different
image,
his
parish
was
an
orchestra
to
be
conducted
in
such
a
way
that
all
and
sundry
could
use
their
gifts
for
the
glory
of
God.
Was
he
dictatorial?
Not
really.
To
be
sure,
he
expected
from
his
assistant
clergy
and
lay
leaders
the
kind
of
deference
that
is
normally
shown
by
members
of
an
orchestra
to
their
conductor
(and
we
all
know
what
happens
to
the
music
when
for
whatever
reason
it
isnt!).
So
I
was
not
surprised
by
the
pep
talk
he
gave
to
me
about
leadership
just
weeks
before
I
was
inducted
into
my
first
parish.
He
actually
said
that
my
time
had
come
to
conduct
an
orchestra.
I
had
to
realise
that
no
parish
priest
can
do
anything
unless
the
other
clergy
and
lay
leaders
are
prepared
to
defer
to
him;
and
they
will
only
defer
to
him
if
they
know
three
things:
first,
that
he
really
loves
them;
second,
that
he
wants
them
to
discover
and
use
their
gifts;
and
third,
that
he
is
able
to
lead
them
further
into
God.
I
cannot
say
how
grateful
I
am
to
have
been
influenced
so
strongly
by
Father
Austin;
to
have
been
on
the
receiving
end
of
both
his
patience
and
his
rebuke
as
a
teenager
(and,
indeed,
until
quite
recently!);
to
have
had
his
guidance
in
discerning
Gods
will
for
my
life,
to
have
been
supported
by
him
in
times
of
failure
and
personal
turmoil,
to
have
had
him
preach
at
my
ordination
to
the
Diaconate
in
Ballarat
and
to
serve
him
as
a
Deacon
at
Christ
Church;
to
have
conducted
missions
with
him
three
times
in
the
bush,
to
have
preached
at
his
20th
anniversary
Mass
at
Christ
Church
in
1984,
to
have
been
launched
by
him
here
at
All
Saints
Wickham
Terrace
in
1995
when
he
preached
at
my
Induction,
and
to
have
had
him
come
and
stay
at
length
three
times
since
then.
I
cherish
every
one
of
those
memories.
Each
of
those
different
contexts
revealed
aspects
of
the
character
of
this
multi-dimensional
man.
It
was
sad
to
see
Father
Austin
decline
in
health
during
his
brief
retirement.
It
frustrated
and
annoyed
him.
But
when
he
realised
that
he
really
was
dying
he
determined
to
use
every
ounce
of
his
spiritual
energy
to
make
the
last
bit
of
his
life
really
count
for
God.
Although
debilitated,
bent
over
and
handicapped
with
that
terrible
illness,
he
continued
to
preach
and
to
give
pastoral
and
spiritual
encouragement
to
others.
He
participated
regularly
in
the
healing
services
at
St
Marys
Waverley,
and
loved
to
go
there
for
Evensong
and
Benediction.
He
preached
his
last
sermon
at
St
Lukes
Enmore
just
one
week
before
his
death.
One
of
Father
Austins
favourite
quotes
was
the
expression
of
St
Augustine
of
Hippo,
that
God
is
the
country
of
the
soul.
He
applied
that
to
our
experience
of
God
now;
and
he
saw
our
departure
from
this
life
as
a
deepening
of
that
reality
rather
than
an
abrupt
change.
Life
here
and
in
the
hereafter
was
the
same
thing,
the
boundary
having
been
blurred
by
our
experience
of
God.
So
many
times
at
funerals
and
in
the
pastoral
care
of
the
dying,
I
heard
him
share
this,
and
then
go
on
speak
in
the
most
natural
and
reassuring
way
of
the
Lords
victory
over
death,
the
deliverance
of
his
people
from
hell
and
destruction,
and
the
unity
we
share
at
the
altar
of
God
with
those
whom
we
love
but
no
longer
see.
In
his
own
poetic
way,
he
would
often
explain
that
the
Mass
is
when
the
Eucharistic
veil
is