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NATIONAL MAGAZINE OF THE LUTHERAN CHURCH OF AUSTRALIAAUGUST 2015

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The Lord sets prisoners free, the Lord gives sight to the blind, the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down

[Psalm 146:7b,8a]

EDITOR/ADVERTISING phone 0427 827 441 email rosie.schefe@lca.org.au

SUBSCRIPTIONS phone 08 8360 7270email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au

www.thelutheran.com.au We Love The Lutheran!

As the magazine of the Lutheran Church of Australia (incorporating the Lutheran Church of New Zealand), The Lutheran informs the members of the LCA about the church’s teaching, life, mission and people, helping them to grow in faith and commitment to Jesus Christ. The Lutheran also provides a forum for a range of opinions, which do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editor or the policies of the Lutheran Church of Australia. The Lutheran is a member of the Australasian Religious Press Association and as such subscribes to its journalistic and editorial codes of conduct.

CONTACTS Editor Rosie Schefe 197 Archer St, North Adelaide SA 5006 phone 0427 827 441 email rosie.schefe@lca.org.au

Executive Editor Linda Macqueen 3 Orvieto St, Bridgewater SA 5155 phone 08 8339 5178 email linda.macqueen@lca.org.au

Design and layout Comissa Fischer Printer Openbook Howden

ADVERTISEMENTS and MANUSCRIPTS Should be directed to the editor. Manuscripts are published at the discretion of the editor. Those that are published may be cut or edited. Advertisements are accepted for publication on a date-received basis. Acceptance of advertisements does not imply endorsement by The Lutheran or the Lutheran Church of Australia of advertiser, product or service. Copy deadline: 1st of preceding month Rates: general notices and small advertisements, $18.00 per cm; for display, contract and inserted advertisements, contact the editor.

SUBSCRIPTIONS and CHANGES of ADDRESS LCA Subscriptions PO Box 731, North Adelaide SA 5006 phone 08 8360 7270 email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au www.thelutheran.com.au

11 issues per year— Australia $42, New Zealand $44, Asia/Pacific $53, Rest of the World $62

Issued every month except in January

Grace Lutheran Church, Redcliffe, Qld

Retired

Enjoys working with Lutheran Archives and whittling wood

Fav text: 2 Corinthians 2

Vivian Kuhl

Geelong Lutheran College, Vic

Physical Education and Year 1–2 teacher

Enjoys sport, adventure and family time

Fav text: Psalm 71:19–21

St Johns Bundaberg, Qld

Active prayer and care volunteer

Enjoys gardening, praying and singing

Fav text: John 14:12,13

Surprise someone you know with their photo in The Lutheran. Send us a good-quality photo, their name and details (congregation, occupation, what they enjoy doing, favourite text) and your contact details.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT Brothers Bradley and Dean Salzke share their copy of The Lutheran at the end of the dawn service, on Anzac Day in Anzac Cove, Turkey. Bradley is a member of St Peters congregation at Gerogery West NSW and Dean is Operations Manager at Warrambui Retreat and Conference Centre, Murrumbateman NSW.

Photo: courtesy Dean Salzke

Send us a photograph featuring a recent copy of The Lutheran and you might see it here on page 2.

People like you are salt in your world [ Matt 5:13 ]

We Love The Lutheran!

Andrew Winstanley Sao Tally-Kiddie

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For most of my life I have been mildly claustrophobic. Never enough for it to be a problem, but enough to make me consciously avoid small, very dark enclosed spaces. I prefer to know there’s an open door nearby.

As I spoke to Neil Hampel (see the story ‘Walk the talk’ beginning on page 5), I couldn’t help contrast my own

scaredy-catness with the realities of life for people who are imprisoned, regardless of whether they deserve to be or not. They don’t get to open that door without asking permission first. They must abide by the rules or bear the punishment if they don’t. They live knowing that their actions brought them to this place and that they have been, or inevitably will be, judged on those actions. They live their lives completely under the law.

Then, as we prepared Sam Paior’s story (‘The last bastion’ page 9), I had the unique perspective of seeing her son Ben’s life condensed into a few photos. More than anything, these images brought home the joy with which Ben lives. He’s happily determined that no boundaries—real or imposed—will stop him. Ben is blessed to have family who support his boundary-leaping, but that isn’t always the case for people living with disability. As fast as boundaries are brought down, we, as society, build new ones in their place. We still seem to want to keep people with disability behind closed doors in those small, very dark spaces.

Our cover verse is a reminder that, with God, it doesn’t need to be this way. He is the one who ‘sets the prisoners free’ (Psalm 146); their bodies may still be restrained but they are no longer imprisoned. That is why regardless of their sins, their crimes and their legal convictions, Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran could go to their execution singing.

‘The Lord gives sight to the blind, the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down’, the psalm continues. He doesn’t ignore the blind and those bowed down; he intervenes to make their lives better. Because the gospel belongs to all who hear it and believe. And sometimes it is those who know the dark places best who love the gospel most.

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FEATURES

05 Walk the talk

08 Broken chains

09 The last bastion

22 A century, not out

24 Angel of hope

COLUMNS

04 Heartland

12 Little Church

13 Inside Story

16 Directory

17 Letters

18 Stepping Stones

20 Notices

21 Reel Life

26 Bring Jesus

28 World in Brief

30 Coffee Break

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A few years ago my wife and I replanted our back garden. Our yard is small, so we arranged the plants to create a sense of depth—shorter ones at the front, and larger ones at the rear. As the centrepiece we chose a ‘Mop Top’ Robinia to create a lovely green canopy for the summer.

The tree grew well and created the effect we wanted. Then suckers started coming up through the lawn. At first we just pulled them out, but they kept on multiplying. Robinias, we discovered, are one of the most unfriendly trees you can plant, sending suckers many metres into neighbouring properties. Thankfully, that hadn’t yet happened and we quickly got rid of the tree, beautiful though it was.

So often we like the look of things which end up being the wrong choices for us. That can apply to relationships, food, alcohol, drugs, tattoos, appliances, houses, holidays, careers and even faith.

Some—as when we chose the wrong kind of tree—can be reversed. Others we are stuck with for good.

In his teaching, Jesus said some hard things about the choices we make. Things like, ‘Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it’ (Matthew 7:13,14).

Our society, and with it our church, is facing some big choices right now. These choices go deep into the way that we see the world and the meaning of life. Learning the difference between the broad and the narrow gates, the good and the evil, can be hard work. The narrow gate is not obvious, since Jesus says

few find it. Why does God, in his wisdom, make the right path so hard to find? This can trouble us greatly, and we ask for simpler answers.

Jesus tells us not to take things at face value. Don’t be fooled by the wide smile and the smooth words of the salesman. All that glitters is not gold. All the same, we can’t avoid making choices. The narrow gate can mean confirming the course we are already on as being the right one, or it can mean change and discomfort as we review our inbuilt assumptions and prejudices. Finding the hard road means more than going with the flow, or staying with what’s familiar, or following personal preferences. On the narrow path, God will test our convictions and challenge them as he teaches us to trust him, honour his word, and place others and their needs ahead of our own (Luke 6:32–36).

The road we need to choose is the one that leads to life. God is the source of life. The gate is Jesus (John 10:9). He is ‘the pioneer and perfecter of our faith’ (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus looked out for others, made love his priority and, when necessary, broke with tradition in order to do the will of his Father. He chose the narrow gate and he chose it for us. We are invited to join him on the narrow road, the one that leads to life.

Jesus looked out for others, made love his priority and, when necessary, broke with tradition in order to do the will of his Father

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by Rosie SchefeWalk the talkIt’s a bit scary the first time. Walking in, knowing nobody and needing to explain you are a chaplain.

And then there’s the atmosphere. High walls, fences and barbed wire. Uniforms, handcuffs, keys and following directions as a guest of ‘the system’. It’s enough to make anyone nervous about visiting a person in prison.

Pastor Neil Hampel knows this experience, knows it well. He began ministry as a prison chaplain after 40 years in parish ministry, continuing as a volunteer for another eight years after his retirement in 2002. He estimates that from 1998 to 2010 he spent ten years as a voluntary prison chaplain, taking time out occasionally to serve parishes in a locum capacity.

He’d had some chaplaincy experience previously, working with small industries or government bodies, but his prison-visiting experience was limited. He was ministering in Port Augusta, South Australia, when the call went out for people to serve as chaplains in the prison.

‘The coordinating chaplain, a kindred spirit from the Uniting Church, gave me some basic information and told me that my role was to get to know the prisoners and to share the gospel’, Neil says. And that is what he did, once every week for the next four years.

Neil’s first visit took him straight to the prison’s secure unit (Port Augusta houses high-, medium- and low-security prisoners). Effectively, his job was to cold-call, to identify himself as a member of the chaplaincy team and to build a relationship—through the trapdoor in the cell door.

Neil says, ‘It didn’t matter to me why they were there. Each one is a son of Adam. All I could do was to befriend them in the name of Jesus.

‘Some were willing to talk, some weren’t. Prisoners soon assess whether you are genuine or not. You have to be consistent, be reliable and dependable. You have to walk the talk and talk the walk’, he says.

‘I was in prison and you came to visit me’ (Matthew 25:36b)

Prisoner accommodation at Port Augusta Prison.

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As a chaplain I was able to be a servant of Christ and to minister in his name. I believe; so I live and preach.’

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Being regularly present, dealing with the changing concerns of prisoners at given points in time was key to developing relationships with them. Talking through family issues, providing comfort to those who missed their families, helping them cope with the realities of court appearances and incarceration. All these were grist to the mill of prison chaplaincy.

‘It was a part of ministry, a chance to be a friend, a sympathetic listener for those who needed one. And it was a matter of being a consistent Christian’, Neil says.

Once a month it was Neil’s rostered turn to conduct worship. He estimates that about one in ten prisoners would come along, although attendances were much higher at Christmas, Easter and for memorial services for prisoners who had died.

‘Prison mirrors society. The attitudes that are expressed in prison are the same as those in society. We are all human beings’, Neil observes with a sad smile.

Port Augusta Prison has a high proportion of Aboriginal inmates. While this might have seemed daunting to some, Neil’s earlier ministry at Yalata on South Australia’s far west coast (1971–1979) stood him in good stead. He could speak Pitjatjantjara; a quick greeting in language was sure to spark

a conversation, even out of curiosity. Some prisoners and their families knew him personally or by reputation, so, ‘I didn’t have to go to the trouble of introducing myself’, Neil says.

Neil spoke with many inmates in the Port Augusta prison and at various times conducted short Bible studies with small groups of prisoners. Occasionally he found himself educated in ways he might not have preferred, but he particularly valued the opportunities he received to share the good news of Jesus Christ.

Neil’s time as chaplain at Port Augusta ended with his retirement from full-time parish ministry in 2002. However, his engagement with prison chaplaincy entered a new phase as he joined the cross-denominational team of chaplains at the Adelaide Remand Centre for the next eight years.

‘The need was there; the LCA was calling for prison chaplains’, he says simply. For about five of those years he commuted each week by bus from Balaklava, and was paid a small honorarium to help meet his travel expenses. Neil and his late wife Margaret moved to Adelaide in 2007. Margaret was a great supporter of Neil’s prison ministry.

The environment of the Adelaide Remand Centre was different from the Port Augusta Prison. Chaplains had to speak with prisoners in interview rooms.

This one-on-one contact provided more opportunities for personal contact.

‘As a rule of thumb, I expected that about one in ten prisoners actually wanted to talk to a chaplain’, Neil says. ‘On average I was meeting with about eight or ten prisoners each time I visited the Adelaide Remand Centre and I aimed to share the good news of Jesus with at least two prisoners whom I’d never met before.

‘Sunday morning worship on a rostered basis was always an interesting exercise in two-way conversation. Each time I would prepare a sermon, but I had to be ready to discuss any point of my sermon which interested those prisoners attending worship. The question often came: “What does that mean?”

‘My own definition of what prison chaplaincy is that I ministered to the needs of a prisoner as required at any given time. There were opportunities for baptism and holy communion during Sunday worship.’ Neil baptised ‘seven or eight’ prisoners during his time at the remand centre.

‘As a prison chaplain I ministered to prisoners according to the rites of the Lutheran Church and according to the needs of the people I was serving. There was a great deal of mutual respect between the chaplains and a broad understanding of the power of the gospel of Christ.

Pastor Neil Hampel will be invested as a Member of the Order of Australia on 25 August. He is recognised for 42 years of ministry in the LCA, approximately ten years of prison chaplaincy and also for his time as spiritual advisor to Lutheran Men of South Australia (1995–1998) and Lutherans for Life (2002–2005).

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AN HONOUR FOR A HUMBLE SERVANTPastor Neil Hampel’s life of service was recognised with his appointment as a Member of the Order of Australia in the 2015 Queen’s Birthday Honours List: ‘for significant service to the Indigenous communities of South Australia, and to the Lutheran Church through pastoral care roles’. Mentioned in the citation are his 42 years as a pastor, his time at Yalata and his prison chaplaincy roles. He was

also editor of the Mission Weekly newsletter and member of various community organisations.

He will be invested in a ceremony to be held at Government House, South Australia on Tuesday, 25 August.

‘I deeply appreciate this honour’, Neil said. ‘I thank my parents and my brothers for their sacrifices that allowed me to have an education.

I thank Concordia College and Seminary in Adelaide and the Lutheran Church which enabled me to serve and have given me a career in ministry. I also thank my late wife Margaret and my family for enabling me to serve in prison chaplaincy. And above all I thank God for his grace, his mercy and the wisdom he has given me in order to minister to others.’

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ATop: Neil Hampel visited Adelaide Remand Centre as one of its prison chaplains from 2002 to 2010, meeting with prisoners and conducting worship: ‘I expected that about one in every ten prisoners actually wanted to talk to a chaplain’, he says. Centre: An interview room in Port Augusta Prison. Neil Hampel visited prisoners at Port Augusta every week for four years. Bottom: Visiting an inmate at the Adelaide Remand Centre can be a daunting experience, right from the entry point.

‘When it came to unbelievers, it was important to treat them and their answers with respect. I had to learn to accept “no” as an answer. Second, I would listen to the concerns that they were willing to share, to understand exactly where they were at. Third, I would ask the question, ‘Would you like to know about Christ”? and offer them the word of God—usually a Gideon Bible or a Gideon New Testament and Psalms. I would suggest that if they wanted to know about Jesus they should read any of the gospels.

‘As a chaplain I was able to be a servant of Christ and to minister in his name. I believe; so I live and preach.’

The Lutheran August 2015 7

'liberty to the captives' (Luke 4:18). In other words, the imprisonment and captivity of God's people of old points to our need for release from sin, death and the devil. This Jesus accomplished in his death, his imprisonment in a guarded tomb, and his resurrection from the dead. That is why the last one to be bound in the Bible is not one of God's people, but Satan himself (Revelation 20).

Let us give thanks that Christ has come and proclaimed liberty to us who were in captivity. May we be encouraged and challenged to visit in the name of Christ those in prison, and to work towards justice for those unjustly imprisoned. May we be fervent in prayer for our brothers and sisters around the world who still today are imprisoned for their witness to the Lord Jesus.

Joshua Pfeiffer is the pastor of St Paul’s Lutheran Church, Nundah, in Queensland.

I wonder how often the topic of prison or prisoners comes to your mind. Many of us might prefer them to be 'out of sight, out of mind'. I wonder whether you've noticed how prominent this theme is in the Bible.

It begins with Joseph's Egyptian imprisonment in Genesis 39. Even when Joseph was in prison, the Lord was with him (Genesis 39:23). After Joseph, of course, the whole people of Israel found themselves as prisoners of a sort, enslaved in Egypt. The Lord's work in freeing them was one of the most important events in the Old Testament. The Psalms show a very strong concern for those who are imprisoned, just one example being Psalm 79:11: 'Let the groans of the prisoners come before you; according to your great power, preserve those doomed to die!' Once again, in the exile to Babylon the people of Israel found themselves in captivity, with Daniel undergoing further imprisonment for his devotion to the one true God.

In the New Testament we find John the Baptist in prison for speaking out against Herod's immoral behaviour, but, like Joseph, receiving special encouragement from the Lord (Luke 7:22). We know Jesus’ famous words about visiting those who are in prison (Matthew 25:36) and how in this interaction we mysteriously meet him too. Our Lord himself is taken from Gethsemane as a prisoner and detained before being tried and sentenced to death. For the early church the pattern continues: we find the imprisonment of Peter (Acts 12) and of Paul and Silas (Acts 16) and the subsequent conversion of the jailer. This would not be Paul’s last time in prison for the sake of the gospel.

The theme of the prisoner goes deeper, though, as the Bible also uses this metaphor to describe our spiritual state and God's saving work in Christ. Jesus most famously proclaims this by identifying himself as the Spirit-anointed Messiah of Isaiah 61, who came to proclaim 'good news to the poor' and

Broken chains by Joshua Pfeiffer

Because of Jesus, we are released

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The last bastionInclusion—it’s a basic concept. One that Jesus was mighty good at. Tax collectors, prostitutes, people who couldn’t walk, children—you name them, he loved them.

But he didn’t just love them, he also included them. They were an integral part of Jesus’ world. Of our world.

When a baby is born, parents hold a level of hope and expectation for their child: child care, kindy, primary school, high school or college, university or TAFE, a job, move out, find a partner, buy a home, have a family of their own—and so it goes.

When a family finds out that their child has a disability, that trajectory looks somewhat different: special kindy,

special school, special high school, a job with an Australian Disability Enterprise (formerly known as sheltered workshops), move into a group home with strangers. A partner and children? Much less likely.

How can we change that? How can we include children and adults with disability in all areas of our spiritual and educational lives?

My 15-year-old son Ben has Down syndrome. But his life has been different from many others who share the same genetic enhancement. I have always expected him to be a fully included, valued member of my family and his community—and that includes his faith community. This hasn’t always been

easy. One church wouldn’t allow him in Sunday school without my supervision (without asking even the most basic questions about how he might need to be supported). One Lutheran college never returned my calls when I inquired about enrolling him, while another told me that they received no funding to support ‘children like him’.

Leaving aside their magnificent grounds (which should surely be less important than welcoming and educating all of God’s children into our faith), these places of faith continue to shun our children and adults with disability. Whether the blocks are financial or are simply barriers of ignorance and prejudice doesn’t matter: we must do better.

Following Jesus’ example begins with a ‘yes’

by Sam Paior

Ben (at front, far right) and his fellow confirmees celebrate their full inclusion into church life at Bethlehem, Adelaide. Pastor Matthias Prenzler is at left and Pastor Fraser Pearce is partially obscured at right.Ph

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