Christmas at Wesley Mission
My life has fallen into a few stages.
As a child, I lived in Box Hill when it was a Village. I then became Pastor to the Slums of Inner Melbourne for eight years. I was then a Country Parson and a Teacher at a One Teacher Bush School out at Jackson Creek in Western Victoria and then for thirteen years, I was a Suburban Minister in one of Australia’s largest suburban ministries.
And now, for more than 20 years I’ve been Superintendent in Sydney of Wesley Mission, Australia’s largest church ministry.
I’ve told you stories of people in each of these places.
Tonight I want you to come with me into the heart of the city.
I’d experienced Christmas in many unusual places during my life, both as a pastor of the slums and as a country parson. I’d celebrated Christmas with prisoners in jail, with patients in psychiatric institutions, with farmers in the midst of drought, and with homeless people. My ministry as a suburban minister meant I had the most traditional of all kinds of Christmas’. But none of this prepared me for Christmas at Wesley Mission.
Of course the Christmas celebrations by various groups in the life of the Mission weren’t that different, except there were just so many of them. There are more than 200 groups that meet each week in Wesley Mission, and all of them have their Christmas break-ups, Christmas parties and Christmas celebrations, concerts, dinners, gift giving and carols. That’s all very fine, but when all 200 of them invite you to be present, it creates a little difficulty.
One unusual Christmas party, however, has been held for 23 years in our home. The Rotuman Congregation come in large numbers to our home. It is the custom in the island of Rotuma for the people to visit the house of the village chief and to celebrate Christmas with him.
Consequently, the Rotuman people come to my house and Beverley and I are seated in chairs in our lounge and dining room, which is packed with people sitting not only on every available seat, but also on the carpet. Then a whole evening program, which is presented as a gift to us, is celebrated. There is singing of carols, dancing in the beautiful pacific way and featured artists.
During the dancing, it is expected that Beverley and I will don the lap-lap skirt and join in with the beautiful swaying hips and movement of the hands. This is not a fun time, but a very serious business, as the dance is a special way of presenting acceptance and loyalty.
After the singing and dancing the Rotuman people give to Beverley and I some speeches of affection and then they present us with a very large cheque that they have raised during the year, which will be used to help underprivileged children in the life of the Mission. This is one of those Christmas parties that we look forward to every year. In our turn, we are expected to provide a bountiful supper for all who attend, which keeps my wife busy for several days.
Another feature of Christmas over the years has been Wesley Mission’s willingness to respond to natural tragedies. Unfortunately, in the week before Christmas, there are often, bushfires, and our people, volunteers and staff, together with our resources, are always placed into the hands of the State Emergency Services and the government authorities to provide help, food or clothing whatever it is required.
Last year, for example, none of the major charities were able to respond to the Federal Government’s plea for help in the disastrous northern NSW floods. Wesley Mission was the only major charity to go into the flood areas. We arranged busloads of volunteers to help people cope with the floods. Truck loads of food and pallet loads of supplies for people who had been flooded out of home.
We provided clothing and toys for the children and the community at large. I went with the team into the NSW floods and together visited farmers, giving each farmer who had lost a total crop, cheques for $10,000 each, which we raised from emergency appeals to our donors and supporters.
We also ran three Christmas parties for all the people in the three towns; parties which were attended by hundreds, and had packed huge hampers of food for every single person who came, donated by individuals and very generous companies. The Commonwealth Bank allowed employees to come with us and they were paid their normal salaries while they worked in clearing up mud, distributing food and helping families who were homeless. We provided over $300,000 in cash for families who had lost their all, and close to half a million dollars worth of food aid, donated by individuals and companies. We made a television film of the work we did which helped us with our special Christmas television programs that have to be made each year.
Another part of my Christmas is making special television programs to be screened on Christmas day. Normally these have to be filmed in advance, and it’s hard in November to get the real Christmas day spirit in the television program, but it was easy when the film was being made in the midst of a disastrous flood.
Another part of Christmas at the Mission is the conducting of An Australian Christmas at Darling Harbour. Started 13 years ago, we work with Mary Lopez Productions throughout the year on a huge extravaganza, which includes more than 1,000 singers, dancers, actors and soloists, an orchestra and a choir and huge sets to set the scene in Bethlehem. We have more than 100 animals involved in the full-scale production of the village of Bethlehem and the story of Christmas. Tens of thousands people pack Tumbalong Park in Darling Harbour to celebrate Christmas with us.
As compere, it has been my privilege to have a number of significant co-hosts over the years, usually the well-known and attractive female newsreaders from the various television channels. An Australian Christmas always has an Australian theme as well as the traditional story of Christmas, and it is well received by the public at large. Because it involves a national telecast and a direct radio broadcast, the presentation of An Australian Christmas at Darling Harbour is actually a very full-scale professional production that takes a lot of time to get ready.
Part of my build up to Christmas starts in mid-November, usually around the 17th of November, with our various centres conducting Christmas parties. Every home, hospital, nursing home, children’s home and institution conducted by Wesley Mission has its Christmas party.
When I arrived at Wesley Mission I had 23 such Christmas parties to attend and to thank our staff, volunteers, our clients, family members, suppliers and others who are invited to attend. I also took the occasion to speak on the real meaning of Christmas, and to remind people of the spiritual nature of Christmas. Some of these, such as in our various hospitals, were in a form of a service followed by an extravagant supper.
23 such parties, usually one or two per day, was enough to keep a person busy. But as Wesley Mission started to grow rapidly, the task became impossible. The 23 parties soon became 50. They soon became 100 and 200, and today we have 486 centres scattered across NSW and every suburb of Sydney, and all of them have parties. Consequently, my personal assistant Blossom has a very difficult job of organising my schedule over 4 weeks to get in as many parties as possible, fitting them between all my normal tasks. The aim is to encourage our staff and clients, families and volunteers, to spread the Word of the meaning of Christmas. We count it a privilege to move through tens of thousands of people during this month.
Some of the people who attend Christmas parties are the most unfortunate in the community, especially among those 5,860 children we care for whose family life has often been decimated during the previous year. Or those who are in our palliative care, who are unlikely to see the New Year, let alone Christmas Day.
Christmas Day at Wesley Mission is always a very long. I know there are some charities that make a big deal about having a big Christmas dinner, using a lot of donated food and volunteers and open to whoever may come. Wesley Mission does put on Christmas dinner, using a lot of donated food and volunteers and open to whoever may come. Wesley Mission does put on Christmas dinner for about 3,000 people every year.
But unlike these other charities, we also have 2,500 people for breakfast every day, not just Christmas day, but also the day before and the day after, and another lot for lunch, and another lot for evening meal. Our Christmas dinner doesn’t end on Christmas day, but continues for the next 365 days. I’ve always taken the view that while we are happy to have volunteers wait upon clients and staff, upon homeless people and underprivileged people, I would not use volunteers as cooks, nor would I serve people food brought along by other people.
Health standards are equally observed. At Wesley Mission we only use professional cooks and staff in our kitchens and everything is expected to meet our high quality standards of preparation, and also have ISO 9000 quality assurance in our centres, which means that every place preparing food has been certified and accredited at the highest standard of professionalism, cleanliness and hygiene. Just because people are poor doesn’t mean to say they should have to put up with unhygienic food handling or preparation.
I do not allow food prepared elsewhere to be brought in and served to the homeless and poor because one of these days, one of the charities that do is going to find the spread of food poisoning or salmonella among a large number of its clients, and there will be a public scandal. Just because people are underprivileged and poor doesn’t mean to say they should be served food that has not been treated in the most hygienic way possible.
Consequently, on Christmas day, our Christmas meal, like those that will be prepared on Boxing Day and the day after, is prepared by professional staff in hygienic kitchens. We are always grateful for volunteers who help serve people seated at tables. I believe that homeless people and underprivileged people should be allowed to be seated as they would in any major restaurant and served with dignity.
So consequently, Christmas meals at Wesley Mission, in all of our centres, are of high standard in both preparation and presentation. For that reason, you will never hear me appealing for gifts of food, cooked chicken, fresh fish and the like, to give people to Christmas Day. Instead, we budget for it well in advance and have our cooks and chefs prepare everything hygienically and properly.
Christmas Day always starts early in our house.
I have prepared Christmas Day television specials, which have been screened across the nation. We then move to Edward Eagar Lodge in Darlinghurst, and when our children were little, they always were part of a full day’s Christmas activities around the Mission. These days they have their own families, and so on Beverley travels with me. We have breakfast with several hundred homeless people in the heart of Kings Cross and Darlinghurst, and then a service at the Church of the Homeless, where I preached for 23 years.
After the service, we have morning tea, during which time Santa arrives. He arrives with presents for everyone, including the customary sweets and chocolates, but also practical things that homeless people require like new pair of socks, pyjamas, underwear, face washers, towels, soap, perfume, toothpaste, combs and the like. These matters of personal hygiene are usually matters that every homeless person needs. We prepare large packs for the hundreds of people who come. For many years, Santa was one of the homeless men, a man named Les Hosking. Les was a big fellow with a hearty laugh who didn’t need pillows stuffed down his belt and who had, by nature, that unfortunate affliction of having large bulbous red nose. Les was a good Father Christmas, except one year, rather more tipsy than usual, Santa appeared with a black eye. He told me the night before he’d gotten off his sleigh and walked into a door.
After spending about three hours with Sydney’s homeless, I usually call into Lifeline telephone counselling service, where our counsellors have been busy all night. Christmas Day requires extra staff. There are many people who are on their own on Christmas Day and who have deep burdens of guilt because of family break-ups, anxiety about absent loved ones, feelings of resentment because families have forgotten them, depression because of loneliness or fear about the future, and others who are troubled about their drinking habits, and so on.
Our counsellors are extremely busy, and they have given up their Christmas celebrations to work as volunteers, counselling some of the most needy in the community. We usually make a quick trip then into Wesley Centre, where we have packed congregations of people running in services simultaneously being held in the Wesley Theatre, Wesley Church and the Lyceum.
About 2,500 are in services that are conducted by my colleagues. I frequently enter the service and give those present a greeting before going on to the next activity. Christmas Luncheon in Wesley Centre is a luncheon provided by us for those people who are on their own. It is not a free lunch, it is one where people can afford to pay a modest sum. But each of these people are living on their own, and we have a large family luncheon at which Beverley and I play mum and dad. We have about 250 people who join us for lunch. It is a wonderful family gathering, and many people have made it a regular habit to have Christmas Day with us.
We leave that luncheon about 2:30pm while they are singing the last of carols, and I make a trip to visit some of our Wesley Mission activities among very needy people.
I usually go to the palliative care at the Lottie Stewart Hospital. In this ward, everybody is in the last stages of terminal cancer. Many have no family or friends to visit them. This is the last Christmas Day that those people will see. I remember Charlie. I had first visited him early in November when I had attended the hospital for a board meeting. I used to arrive at the hospital as Chairman of the Board early before the board meeting was held, and go round all of the wards and visit 134 patients, stopping and speaking with each one.
Some were special friends, like Mrs Smith, mother of the famous Rev Robert Smith, Uniting Church Minister. She had been a patient in the hospital for 32 years following an after birth paralysis. Mrs Smith was unable to move any part of her body except her hands. She would lay on her back looking at the ceiling, as she had sone for 32 years, but with her hands she worked away, making some of the most beautiful crochet work that you could imagine. She was a wonderfully bright, happy, contended and faith-filled woman. It was always a joy to visit her.
One year, the charge nurse told me we had a man in palliative care in the last stages of his life. He was expected to live only hours, perhaps a day at the most. I walked up to the single bed ward where Charlie was lying in bed. I thought I would just have a prayer with him, if he were able to comprehend what I was saying.
He would not see Christmas. He had a whole series of cancer related surgeries. One lung had been removed. His tongue had been removed, His oesophagus and throat had been removed by surgery, and he breathed through a stoma set into his chest.
I knocked and walked in, and there was Charlie lying on his back with his pyjama top open so I could see the stoma in his chest through which he could breathe. He had a lighted cigarette stuck into the stoma and was inhaling the cigarette smoke. Someone who had been visiting him had left him a few cigarettes. Charlie couldn’t speak, as he had no voice box or tongue, but the look in his eyes said, “You don’t mind me having a last cigarette, do you?”. Of course smoking, in a palliative care ward was forbidden, not just for the sake of the patients themselves. Smoking had taken so much of Charlie’s life; it seemed foolish to forbid him his last cigarette.
However, his smoking meant that staff and others had to suffer the effects of passive smoking, and that wasn’t fair on them. Charlie couldn’t speak, and while his one hung heaved, taking in breath and sucking in the cigarette smoke through the hole in the top of his chest, at the base of his neck.
I had a prayer with him and indicated that I would be coming out to the hospital the next week and I hoped I would see him then. He nodded his head in agreement and we shook hands. The next week when I called in upon him, Charlie was still there and following prayer, I told him that I was coming out for the patients’ Christmas party in a few days time, and I looked forward to seeing him there. He was there for the Christmas party, still alive, only just.
I had another prayer with him and said that I was coming out for the staff Christmas party. He nodded, and I said I would come and visit him while I was there. Then it was time for the next board meeting, and again I visited him, and every time I set a date he seemed to look forward to me being present.
The first week in November and had now stretched on to December 25th, and on this Christmas Day, I came in to see Charlie. He was laying flat on his bed, obviously weaker, but he had lasted to see another Christmas. I spoke at length with him about all sorts of things, telling him about what I was doing and speaking to him about dying and heaven. I then had a prayer, committing him to God’s grace. He had a real sense of peace. He had seen another Christmas.
The charge sister later rang me to say that Charlie had peacefully died. In our palliative care ward, everybody is dying, and so I take it as a very serious responsibility as a minister of the Gospel to visit each person and pray with them and comment them to God’s tender care.
Having visited the palliative care ward, I usually go up the hill to R E Tebbitt Lodge. Most of the residents are having an afternoon nap following their Christmas Day luncheon and the staff tend to be sitting around on the balcony outside the kitchen with their feet up, having worked hard for several hours. Staff who work on Christmas Day are just as important as anybody else, and I take time to visit with them and thank them for all that they do.
My car then heads towards one of the several children’s homes. The families that care for more than 5,800 children in our cate at Wesley Mission are wonderful people. The year before last, I decided to visit one particular family. They are foster carers who had four children come into their care unexpectedly one night the week before Christmas.
Their’s was a tragic story that you would have read about in the papers. Mum and dad had an argument. Apparently they both had been drinking. The four little children watched with fear-filled eyes as their father chased their mother around the house with an ornamental Japanese Samurai sword he had grabbed off the sideboard. He had slashed at her many times with this sword. It wasn’t a real Samurai sword or otherwise it would have been sharp. It was blunt, but nevertheless pointed, and therefore it made many serious punctures in the body of their mother, but did not kill her.
The woman fought off her husband with the sword using some kitchen utensils or scissors and he was cut and bleeding. The fight raged on for some time, with him slashing her with this sword. Eventually, she fell to the ground, mortally wounded and he continued to hit her with the sword. He then collapsed against a wall from a serious puncture wound, inflicted by his wife with a pair of scissors. There was blood over walls, furniture, floor coverings and each of them
The four young children, their girl, eight years of age being the eldest, were horrified as they saw this going on between their parents. The little girl realised when neither parent was moving that she must do something to get help, and in one of those wonderful ways that young children have, remembered the 000 number, rang and told the operator that her mother and father were lying on the floor, that they were covered with blood and that her mother was dead.
In the next hour or so, the children saw the arrival of the ambulance and the police, with the ambulance taking away their dead mother, and the police taking away their blood covered father. There were workers there from government departments, the Department of Community Services, and a policewoman who was looking after the four absolutely bewildered and distraught children. It was important that these children, who had not lost both parents, one to death and one to jail, were not separated from each other.
Wesley Mission has wonderful foster families who are prepared to care for children in such emergencies. I went to this family, which had taken in the four children and who had given them a very special Christmas Day. I brought additional Christmas gifts for those children on behalf of all of Wesley Mission’s donors and supporters.
My Christmas Day is coming to an end. By now it is teatime, and I heard the car back to our family home where our own children, their spouses, and grandchildren, have gathered for a Christmas evening meal. That’s not the end of the night, because I still have three hours of broadcasting to do on 2GB, taking me through to midnight.
My last gift of the day is given to my taxi driver, who each week picks me up and takes me home following the end of our Sunday Night Live broadcast. In that respect, Christmas Day is no different to every other Sunday night of the year.
Coming to Wesley Mission gave us the privilege of celebrating Christmas probably more times that anybody else in the community, of meeting face to face tens of thousands of people, of broadcasting, telecasting and conducting An Australian Christmas before hundreds of thousands of people. Christmas at the Mission is a very special time, and we thanks God for the strength to do it year after year.
The city of Sydney would grow to be one the world’s great cities and Wesley Mission would grow to be one of the world’s great churches and I was privileged to spend each day in the heart of both.
