An address given by Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue, AC, CBE, at the  Ecumenical Service, St Mary's Cathedral, Sunday, 28th May 2000. First of all I would like to acknowledge that the land on which we today worship our God, is the traditional land of the Eora Nation. Secondly, to thank you for the invitation to address you today and also for the generous welcome this afternoon. First of all I want to publicly share with you something of my own personal journey which had its beginnings in the early 1930s when at the age of 2, along with my sisters Amy aged 4 and Violet aged 6, we were removed from our Mother and our traditional lands in Central Australia by the United Aborigines Mission, an interdenominational mission, and taken to Colebrook home at Quorn in the Flinders Ranges, in South Australia where we met for the first time our brother Geoffrey age 8 years and older sister Eileen age 10 years, who had been taken away earlier and then later to Colebrook Home at Eden Hill. My sister Violet who shall from now on be referred to as Vi, took upon herself the mother role, to me in particular because I was the baby of the family. I remember well how she carried me around on her back and constantly protected me from what was a strange environment for us. I remember too when in later years she was constantly picked upon and punished for very minor misdemeanours and often because of her generous nature to protect others. It wasn't long before I, as a very tiny tot, started to fight and protect her, often getting between her and the punishment being meted out. I was branded as a trouble maker and was told frequently that I would not succeed in life - I too from an early age decided that when I had the opportunity I would prove them wrong. At the age of 16 I was sent to country SA as a domestic servant, to a Christian family who attended a Baptist Fellowship. There I met the matron of the local hospital and arranged to have my name placed on the register to start nursing when I became of age. The rest of the story is fairly well known and I believe I have succeeded but with many obstacles along the way. Some of us can remember some happy times. Some can remember kindness and acts of love. Some found comfort from being with their brothers and sisters And for others their experience was a nightmare - a life of unrelenting fear, loneliness and horrific abuse. For many the strict regime of religious observance was miserable and oppressive. But what all stolen children share is a personal history which has torn us from our roots. Which has denied us our cultural heritage. And which has fractured our identity. There was scarcely an Indigenous family which was not affected. Many lived in constant grief and fear that other children would be taken. The entire fabric of communities was destroyed. Under the name of 'protection' Indigenous children, especially so-called 'half-caste' children, were taken under duress and against our parents' wishes. We were, in effect, stolen and placed in foster homes or institutions such as Colebrook. There was often little attempt, even, to keep siblings together. The effects of such dislocation and deprivation have been profoundly disabling, threatening the very core of our people's well being. It was, and still is, often argued that it was in our best interests. Many of the missionaries and state officials implicated in the removal and placement of children may have been well-intentioned. The Missionaries did their best under difficult circumstances. They fed and clothed us, but I can't remember a kiss or a cuddle as being part of the caring. Is it any wonder that the Stolen Generation have difficulty in forming relationships and lack parenting skills. Giving and receiving affection has been a life long struggle for me. We have held a deep dark secret in our hearts for all these years, our hearts ached to know who we were, where did we come from, where were our mothers, and who were our fathers, and why wouldn't they tell us, these words were never spoken, so the ache continued. How would you as mothers, fathers and grandparents have reacted if this was done to you - we can forgive, but we can't forget the pain our mothers suffered. But there is no escaping the fact that the policies of the time were based on ignorance and arrogance. If anyone disputes this, they need only read the sickening words of a book about Colebrook written in 1937 called Pearls from the Deep. Aboriginal children were seen (and I quote) as: 'waste material rescued from the degradation of camp life bought up from the depths of ignorance, superstition, and vice to be fashioned as gems to adorn God's crown'. The following comments from a 1936 Adelaide Advertiser will give you a further idea of just how patronising and self congratulatory were many of the so called 'do-gooders' of the time. I quote: 'Those who have seen the Colebrook Home children are surprised at their charm, their intelligence and the fact that they are like ordinary children. It is only the training of a Christian home that has made them so. When they were brought in from the bush they were wild, frightened, dirty and ignorant. Few of them had known anything of civilised life'. A spokesperson for the Home said: 'The Home training has two objects - first, to make Christians of these children, and second, to merge them into the white population. As they are half white, it is better to develop in them the instincts of Europeans, and to make useful citizens of them, than to leave them in the camps to become (!) Aborigines'. It is now widely admitted that, even by the standards of the time, these actions were contrary to common law and in breach of international human rights' obligations. It is no wonder that our deepest emotions are being exposed. And no wonder that the hidden wounds of the past are so very close to the surface. Yet it has also been noted that, despite the suffering and trauma expressed within the stories of the Stolen Children, the responses of Aboriginal people have been extraordinarily generous. This is a time when we need that spirit of generosity. It is a time to feel the connections of a shared past. It is a time to guard against things that fragment us. And it is a time to cherish those things which bring us together - those things which have helped us to survive. Those things that will create a better future for us all. In the early 1960s I volunteered to serve as a relief nurse for the Australian Baptist Missions in Assam, India. There I realised for the first time the evils of colonisation for the Indigenous population of India. I also wondered why I needed to go to India when there was much to be done in Australia for my own people. I returned home with a passion to find work in Australia as a nurse as close as possible to my traditional lands and my people and on the top of my agenda was to find my mother. In 1967 I joined the Department of Aboriginal Affairs and my base was Cooper Pedy. Three months later I journeyed to Oodnadatta with my sister Eileen to meet our mother for the first time. The experience was one of both joy and great sadness - and even anger at not being able to communicate effectively with her. I wanted to ask her so much about the past. My mother was a broken woman living in appalling conditions and it was obvious the hurt which she suffered by the removal of her five children. I was angry and I sheeted home the blame to the church - for my removal, my mother's grief and the loss of my culture and heritage. I turned my back on the church and resolved to reclaim my own language and culture - in other words my Aboriginal spirituality. This was followed by my all consuming passion to help my own people - and some of you may have followed my political and advocacy role. But, on the 25 January last year I was deeply affected by the loss of my dear sister Vi, who I loved dearly. She was a Christian and a valued member of the Broadview Baptist Church (South Australia). She was also proud of her Aboriginality. Her life of service and her death have been the catalyst which has challenged me about where I stood before the Lord. While attending the services of worship at Broadview, particularly on Good Friday, Easter Sunday and Sunday 11th April, last year the Lord was speaking to me through the Scripture-based messages from Pastor Malcolm Wilson who challenged, witnessed and guided me through a difficult time. Since that time I have rededicated my life to Christ, to serve him in whatever way he sees fit. I will continue to seek to know His will for my future. But for the present I believe I have a responsibility as a Christian and Aboriginal leader - to challenge the Christian church to show the leadership, and to be actively involved in the political and social issues as they are presented to us on a day to day basis, so we can show God's love in our lives and to the community around us. In traditional Aboriginal culture there was no separation made between spirituality and life. Life was the interconnection between people, and their lands and it was a spiritual relationship. How we relate the significance of this with Christianity for me is not in doubt. I believe that Aboriginal spirituality and Christianity can work side by side. The story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus gives us some insight into our own journey of faith. It is in everyday things that happen in the story that Jesus reveals himself. The story tells us a number of things about our journey of faith: The first, is the need for others. We don't walk the journey alone. We walk it with others who share our burdens as well as our joys. Secondly, even though we may not realise it, Jesus is present in these circumstances, unrecognised, like the stranger. Churches are being invited to commit themselves to a Journey of Healing.  However, in spite of apologies from all churches and numerous congregations, there are still questions about how we should remember our missionary heritage and the history of contact between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. When I accepted the Canberra Baptist Church apology, some three years ago, they were careful to note the work of their missions and missionaries. They did so not only to accept the pain of the relationship of the church and Indigenous peoples, but also because they acknowledged the prophetic and compassionate ministries of so many missionaries. Yet, they were confronted and moved by the experiences Indigenous people shared in the Bringing Them Home report. They became aware of the effects of their refusal to acknowledge the rights and dignity of Indigenous people. This had the broad effect of dispossessing Indigenous people of their traditional lands. But it also impacted on individuals through the deliberate assimilation policy. They heard of the forced removal of children, who were then stripped of their Aboriginality. For the church's role in the policy and for its silence they apologised. But what of the church's heritage - how do we hold together, with integrity and responsibility, our past and our future? When we think of God's way in the world, we rightly link love and justice.  Remember the prophet Micah (6:8). I quote: What does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Or Luke (4:18) of Jesus' first words in the synagogue at Nazareth: The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. Or James (2:16-17) - the haunting words of James' letter to the church: If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them 'go in peace: keep warm and eat your fill', and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? But there is a sense at the centre of the Christian tradition that love is much more than justice. When we say with Paul (II Cor 5:19) that in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us - our self understanding and dignity is given its foundation in the free gift of God's love. This foundation gives us a deep resource to deal with our sense of being aggrieved or misunderstood. We are forgiven people and all whom we encounter have the need not only for justice, but also the need for forgiveness. How might this foundation empower the church's participation in the Journey of Healing? Churches participated widely in Sorry Day, but the church in general has not directly responded to most of the recommendations specifically addressed to the churches in the Bringing Them Home report. One of the key areas relates to church records and information that would help the Stolen Generations retrace their families and their heritage. Churches were explicitly urged in no fewer than 4 of the total 54 recommendations to document this material and to make it readily available. But this question of information that the church may hold, through its formal records and libraries and through its memories and members, is broader than information related to the Stolen Generation. At the moment in Canberra there is a project to retrieve and document the Wiradjuri language. Essential source material for this project comes from journals of the early missionaries in central and south NSW. This is an example where the church's history of contact with Indigenous people is playing a restoring and redemptive role. We cannot abandon our heritage - that would lack integrity. We cannot ignore the pain of our history - that would be to avoid responsibility. Ironically, the way forward may be by turning back to the history of the relationship between the church and Indigenous peoples. We need to understand more, but also we need to literally retrieve and preserve what we have - and then to share it with the relevant Indigenous communities. That then will give us the figurative and material base, for a relationship that would honour God. So this year we have again been invited on a Journey of Healing. The challenge for us is to encourage churches throughout Australia to examine their history of contact with Indigenous people and to respond to the recommendations of the Bringing Them Home report. Let me remind you that Christ died for us too, a people with a culture, language, and land. But as a result of the misguided policies of both church and state, there are many broken hearts and shattered lives out there who have needs and aspirations. It is the truth in the reconciliation process that is absent - we must accept the truth of our history - it is the truth that will set us free. AMEN

Last updated: 18 June 2000