Building a New Toilet Block
Denominational pride and countless working bees had resulted in the Ararat Churches of Christ sanctuary presenting a reasonably good face to the world but some of its related buildings were not so presentable.
To Gordon’s mind the manse itself was beyond repair. Apart from making it as livable as possible, he didn’t plan on wasting time or money on the house. Beverley and he would only be there for a short time: it was the church buildings that Teen Week had filled that claimed his attention.
The church complex consisted of the sanctuary and behind it, running the full width of the church, a ramshackle fibro vestry that leaked during rain, creaked during wind, and looked so utterly forlorn that it seemed not to belong there at all.
In each of the far corners of the church yard stood two other disreputable small buildings—what the country people termed “the dunnies,” LADIES in one corner and GENTS in the other.
The only other building was an all-purpose hall that stood sideways across the lot and looked like an enormous shoe-box. It had small windows high up in the walls to minimize the danger of breakage posed by indoor sports, and a door at either end. Made of solid brick the hall could withstand any amount of the rough and tumble games and Gordon had plans a-plenty of putting it to good use. But it was the other buildings that bothered him. What could he do about them?
Shortly after their arrival in Ararat he was surprised to learn the reason for the vestry’s appearance.
“It’s the hoboes and homeless,” a deacon explained. “The vestry of country churches are their favourite sleeping places. Sometimes they only stay a night but they know that churches are rarely used except on Sundays so they often camp for several days.
“To get in they pick the door lock or break a window latch, sleep warm and dry and then off they go leaving muddy footprints, greasy newspapers and other mess for us to clean up.”
While Gordon was digesting this unwelcome news the deacon told him that drug addicts and others desperate for money, also broke into churches seeking items they could sell.
“Alcoholics often hope to find communion wine. They draw a blank here and in the Baptist Church,” he chuckled.
Gordon nodded, these denominations use unfermented grape juice in their communion service.
When he reached home that afternoon Gordon told Beverley what he had learned, ending with the passionate declaration: “We need new buildings that can’t be easily broken into. I don’t know how we’re going to do it. This church is already in debt and most of the members don’t have a regular income. I made a few preliminary enquiries and the wreckers quoted 400 pounds ($800) just to demolish and cart away the old vestry.”
“We can raise money by appealing for special donations, just as we did in Melbourne,” Beverley suggested hopefully. Caring for little Jenny and preparing for the new baby, as well as maintaining her active role as a minister’s wife, kept her more than busy but she was always willing to take on something more if it would help her husband and the cause of God.
“Bless you.” Gordon smiled at her. “I know you’ll do your part and so will everyone else, if I can sell them the idea. But this is a costly project and I can’t see the church agreeing to it. I don’t know where to begin.”
Time and again Gordon wandered across to the church yard and poked around the vestry. Could it be jacked up somehow so that it didn’t lean drunkenly away from the church’s brick wall? Perhaps with a new roof and some paint, and a new carpet inside? No, it would still be a patched-up old building. The church needed a brand new vestry and that was that.
An errant breeze wafting odours from the outback `dunnies’ made him shudder. Surely a church merited better toilet facilities than those. How much would it cost to replace them?
He went home and drew a rough outline of the present church buildings, sketching in the new complex that he would like to see on the site. Suddenly an idea struck. When they demolished the old vestry there would be a thirty-foot gap between the back wall of the brick church and the side wall of the equally solid brick hall which ran crosswise to the church. If they floored that space and put a roof over it, they would only have to put in two end walls and doors and they would have a large new hall costing much less than he had anticipated.
Delighted with this prospect he drew a few more lines and another idea struck. If they extended this proposed hall 15 feet further than the fifty foot width of the church, and then went up behind the existing hall, they would have an `L’ shaped hall that was 65’ long by 30’ wide. Then they could turn the short part of the `L’ into a huge kitchen 15’ wide and 30’ long. It had always been his dream for a church to have a kitchen where all the church women could cook or have meetings or whatever else they wanted. Now it could become a reality.
“Bev, can you come and look at this?” Gordon raised his voice above the growl of the ancient washing machine. He knew Beverley was busy but he couldn’t wait to share his new idea.
When he showed her the sketches and explained his ideas, they both exulted at how convenient these buildings would be, and how roomy for Sunday School classes and Ladies meetings, and how much this would cut the proposed costs. Then they both fell silent. How could they persuade the church board to accept the idea when the kitty was empty and debts loomed?
“It will cost much less,” Beverley sighed, “but I’m afraid the church members won’t see it that way. I wish we were millionaires—” she shrugged and went back to the washing.
Gordon remained staring at his sketches. Suddenly he shouted, “Eureka!”
The toilets. He would begin by modernizing the dunnies. That would appeal to everyone. With quick strokes he pencilled in a new MEN’s toilet block with room for more than one man to stand and talk while attending to other matters. The toilets would have a concrete floor and tiles, and lights and stainless steel fittings.
The LADIES would be even bigger and better and it would have a separate room where mothers could change the baby. With their own little one’s arrival only weeks away, Gordon knew that at present there was no place at all where a baby could be fed or attended to during any of the church’s worship or social activities.
When he presented to the church officers his plan for building a new toilet block, it met with approval. This was a need that everyone could appreciate.
As soon as he had them all enthusiastic Gordon pointed out that seeing the church would have all the trouble and expense of bringing in new sewer-lines and water-pipes and storm-water drains, it would be economical at the same time to put in a new kitchen at the back of the hall. The ladies present nodded. Their beaming smiles agreed that this new proposal made perfect sense.
Then he added cautiously, “Seeing that we’re going to have to build a brick wall on the far side of the kitchen, we might as well extend it to the line level of the existing church building.”
There were a few nods but no one actually spoke. The committee members began to be suspicious.
“Then” he finished triumphantly, “we can demolish the old vestry, roof over the entire space and create a larger hall and a spacious kitchen as an annexe to the new superb toilet block.”
Their pastor’s logic was irrefutable and even the most cautious church officers joined in with good-humoured resignation.
Naturally the question of finances arose. As the officers were quick to remind him, most of the church’s members were farmers with young families, struggling to make a living off the unfriendly land, and they would not be in a position to lend much financial support.
Gordon had foreseen this and had his pledge-giving plan all ready. He explained it to the officers and told them that he had successfully used a similar plan in Ascot Vale and Newmarket. They approved and helped arrange the details before he presented it to the church in a Sunday sermon.
On the appointed Sunday Gordon preached a sermon on the value of religion. “Love means sacrifice,” he said. “Jesus loved this sinful world so much that to save it He gave His life as the ultimate sacrifice. Unless we as Christians, are prepared to make some sacrifices, our religion is worth nothing.
“A religion that does nothing; that costs nothing; that expects nothing; that gives nothing; that suffers nothing; is worth nothing,” he thundered from the pulpit. Then he proceeded to outline his 156 weeks giving plan.
“This plan has been tried in other churches. It has proved far better than spasmodic giving. If each member promises to give a specified offering each week, whether it be large or small, then our church will have a regular income and the various committees can plan accordingly.
“This is particularly essential for our church renovation programme. The estimated cost is around nine thousand pounds ($18,000) and I know that we can easily raise that amount if we spread it over 156 weeks and everyone pulls their weight.”
At the close of the service each church member received a printed brochure setting out the steps for the 156 weeks giving plan.
To Gordon’s relief almost every member made a commitment and the grand total pledged amounted to 13,000 pounds ($26,000). Gordon beamed when he announced the total to an equally delighted church congregation.
Before anything could be done they had to raise money to demolish the old buildings. The pastor quickly solved that problem. On his frequent visits around the farming community he had noticed that farmers could not resist any bit of timber or iron that “might come in handy some day,” particularly if it was free.
So he advertised in the local newspaper that the Church of Christ was giving away a quantity of roofing iron—rusted only on one side, wooden frame windows, two sets of external toilet fittings, several doors, 2,000 bricks, floor boards, and red gum stumps suitable for firewood. Persons interested in the collection and removal of this FREE material should ring Pastor Moyes for further details and a booking to secure whatever materials they wanted.
The manse phone ran hot. Gordon made a list of what everyone wanted, but he also stipulated that each person must take away some of the stuff that no one wanted. Thus, if a man wanted twelve sheets of roofing iron he could have them if he took a dozen red gum stumps as well. If another man wanted 500 bricks, he would also be required to take some floor boards.
By the end of the week nearly everything was spoken for. Gordon divided the remainder into movable portions and with a little persuasion most of the farmers agreed to take a bit extra.
At sunrise on Demolition Day farmers with trucks and trailers began pulling up in front of the church. Armed with hammers, ropes and crowbars they set to work. Gordon had never seen such a keen Working Bee. With much wise-cracking and good-humoured ribbing, the old vestry and the ancient toilets were demolished in record time. True to their word, everybody took an extra load of whatever was left over, and by lunchtime the whole site was cleared.
Then came the tricky part. How could they erect new buildings without money to pay for materials? Gordon called for donations to purchase the sand and cement and then for volunteers to help lay the concrete floor. The church could not afford to pay a builder to undertake the whole construction job, but they hired a qualified builder on a daily basis to oversee the volunteer labourers.
One of the church members, a well-known business man in the community, offered to purchase all the required materials on 60 days’ credit. Gordon accepted the offer and then worked day and night to raise the required money. It was also his task to be clerk of works- seeing that requirements were ordered and raising volunteers to do the job.
It was a daunting task, particularly when a steel roof weighing six tons arrived and had to be erected. With much sweating and shouting the volunteers swung huge girders between the existing brick walls and hauled the roofing aloft. Glass windows and doors at each end of the hall stretched from floor to ceiling and let in a maximum amount of light.
Wherever they could the women physically worked alongside their menfolk, but they soon found it more productive to arrange themselves into committees and bear the brunt of raising money for the immediate needs.
The ladies established a volunteer committee who catered for weddings dinners and other functions and brought in a good profit. Garden parties, fetes, street stalls, family-fun evenings—there wasn’t a money-making avenue that those ladies didn’t explore.
The church youth freely donated their time to the work as well as organizing a dozen different ways of raising funds. One of the most enterprising being to hold `rabbiting parties’ when they went out at night and helped rid nearby farms of the plague. Rabbit skins and carcases were not worth much but the pennies and shillings all added up.
As the project neared completion Gordon went through the musty Church Record Books in search of material for a short history. To his delight he found that in six weeks’ time it would be exactly fifty years since the first meeting of the church was held in Ararat.
“Wow! What a great coincidence. We must have a grand jubilee celebration and invite the Mayor and the Victorian Premier and the Conference President of the Churches of Christ.”
He was never one to do anything by halves. His Jubilee Committee sent letters to former church members who had left the district inviting them to attend the celebrations and if this was impossible—to please send a donation.
Thanks to Chris Fisher nearly everyone in the district became aware that the local Church of Christ was about to celebrate its Golden Jubilee. “FIFTY YEARS SINCE THE FIRST CHURCHES OF CHRIST MEETING IN ARARAT,” his bold, black headline announced.
Hours of feverish activity preceded Sunday, September 5, 1965 Golden Jubilee celebrations. Volunteers raced around putting the finishing touches to their handiwork. Church members raided their gardens and dozens of floral decorations perfumed the church. The organ pealed triumphantly as proud parishioners and visitors filed into the pews.
The mayor, Councillor Blachford, made the opening speech: “Fifty-years is a long while,” he said. “During that time those of us who live here have seen many organizations come and go. The ones that stand are the ones that are founded on strong moral principles. Nothing survives like a church.”
Musical items followed and then the president of the conference of Churches of Christ in Victoria and Tasmania, Mr F. J. Funston, officially declared the new hall and kitchen block open—debt free.
What a triumph.
The new-look Church of Christ buildings certainly made an impact on the town and the church. In the following year the membership increased by 50% and the offerings by 150%. The attendance at Sunday morning services increased by 100% and the evening service attendance by 150%. The Sunday School attendance went up a staggering 285% and the total giving for needy families, missionary outreach, and other philanthropic measures improved six-hundredfold.
The Ararat Church of Christ came gloriously and harmoniously alive—and all because they built a new toilet block!
Little did Gordon dream that within twenty years he would be leading a team in designing, developing and building the largest church complex in Australia’s history—almost 40 storeys high, 600,000 square metres in area, costing $300 million—and with more than 100 toilets!
