The Queensland [Qld] Redistribution Commission [QRC] has released its proposed redistribution of the state’s electoral districts [the Proposal]. Population-wise, there are good reasons for a redistribution given the increase of residents in certain growth corridors in the south-east and ongoing decline in rural areas. Others will be able to comment on the equity of the redistribution in terms of populations, political allegiances and state geography. What interests me is the proposed changing of many electorate names, the insidious racism of at least some of those proposed changes and the irrational rationale given for making them. The document proposes the renaming of 19 electorates:

• Bancroft as Deception Bay

• Bonney as Labrador

• Bundamba as Redbank

• Chatsworth as Carindale

• Coomera as Pimpama

• Cooper as Ashgrove

• Jordan as Greenbank

• Macalister as Beenleigh

• Maiwar as Indooroopilly

• McConnel as Brisbane Central

• Miller as Annerley

• Nicklin as Nambour

• Ninderry as Coolum

• Oodgeroo as Cleveland

• Scenic Rim as Beaudesert

• Theodore as Oxenford

• Toohey as Eight Mile Plains

• Traeger as Flinders

• Waterford as Marsden (p. 8)

Keep your eyes on the three changes which I have highlighted in particular! However, I’m using the one in italics to show the ridiculous nature of the rationale. It’s the electorate in which I live and it gets special mention in the document because it purportedly was the first to depart from historic geographic naming practices.

A Self-Serving Example

According to the Proposal, following separation from New South Wales in 1859 until 1986, Qld electorate names were “geographical places … many of which … had earlier been named after ‘distinguished persons from the State’s past.’” In 1986, that changed when the QRC “named one newly created electorate as Nicklin—after former Queensland Premier Sir Francis Nicklin (1895-1978)” who had served as Premier from 1957 to 1968 (p. 7). Nicklin was leader of the Country-National Party which held government in coalition with the Liberal Party.

Now this is a particularly interesting example to be highlighted by the QRC for four reasons which make it quite self-serving.

Firstly, this example can be understood as an attempt to assuage any criticisms of political bias in the process of re-naming. Qld is currently governed by the Liberal National Party, an heir to Francis Nicklin’s coalition. If it is possible to give up the name of Nicklin, in the current political environment, surely no objections can be raised against other naming sacrifices! The example defers claims of political interference in a supposedly independent commission.

Secondly, Francis Nicklin is strongly linked to the biassed arrangement of Qld electorates that sustained the power of the Qld National Party over decades:

To safeguard the coalition's position, the government legislated in 1958 for a new system of electoral zones which favoured the conservatives. In return for additional seats in the Brisbane metropolitan area, the Liberals agreed to retain the principle of zonal weighting in favour of rural regions. Nicklin's direct influence on these negotiations cannot be demonstrated, but the arrangements advanced his interests considerably (Australian Dictionary of Biography)

Giving up the name of Nicklin attempts to distance the QRC even further from claims of political bias.

Thirdly, the electorate of Nicklin was named thus because Nicklin was associated with the area covered by the electorate. He owned a pineapple farm in Palmwoods, an area now within the electorate named Nicklin but proposed to be removed from the electorate to be named Nambour. Thus, the name Nicklin might be regarded as no longer relevant to the proposed electorate of Nambour.

Fourthly, the re-naming of Nicklin to Nambour (with major geographic changes) allows for the argument that this change is actually a re-instatement of an indigenous name. In an effort to defend itself against criticism for the removal of indigenous names, the QRC claims that:

It is also noteworthy that the names of 26 of the proposed 93 electorates are of Indigenous language origin—namely:

• Buderim

• Bulimba

• Bundaberg

• Caboolture

• Caloundra

• Capalaba

• Coolum

• Currumbin

• Gympie

• Inala

• Indooroopilly

• Kawana

• Kurwongbah

• Maroochydore

• Moggill

• Mudgeeraba

• Mundingburra

• Murrumba

• Nambour

• Nanango

• Noosa

• Nudgee

• Pimpama

• Toowoomba North

• Toowoomba South

• Warrego (p. 9)

The problem with this claim is that many of these names have been corrupted in some way by colonialist hearings/readings. They were, according to the QRC’s own assessment, used for electorates for geographic reasons; and not for their indigenous connections. Their use stands in strong contrast to the use of the names Maiwar, Ninderry and Oodgeroo which I’ll explore below.

The name “Nambour” is used by a town in the hinterland of the Sunshine Coast, within the bounds of the Sunshine Coast Council. According to the Sunshine Coast Council Heritage website, Nambour was previously named “Petrie’s Creek” (and that’s another interesting Qld colonial name); and then renamed Nambour after the cattle station that occupied the area in the late 19th century. It is probable that the cattle station was named using a variation on an indigenous word, possibly referring to the area generally, but particularly referring to a plant that was prolific there: a red-flowering tea-tree (callistemon viminalis) known by the Kubbi Kubbi (Kabi Kabi or Gubbi Gubbi) people as naamba.

I realise know that even in the 1970s, my paternal grandmother, Melba Victoria May Wheeldon Monro whose vocation was “Methodist minister’s wife” knew that “Nambour” was a corruption of “Naamba.” She and her husband, Rev. Samuel George Monro, had been appointed to the Nambour Circuit in the 1950s when that area was one of the Qld Methodist Conference’s most prominent locations. Melba always insisted that “Nambour” be pronounced “Naamba,” although as a child, I never knew why.

As well as being a corrupted version of an originally indigenous word, Nambour refers to a far more localised geographic area in its colonial corruption.

An Irrational Rationale

According to the QRC, the “essential requirement” for the naming of electorates is “voter recognition:”

We are of the view that voter recognition of an electorate’s location is essential. Electorate names which do not identify or suggest the location of an electorate are apt to cause unnecessary confusion. That is also the case if an electorate were named after a geographical place but the name lacked voter recognition or is no longer suitable (for example, because of boundary changes or to differentiate it from a local government area).

After due consideration, we propose to (a) resume the longstanding practice of naming electorates after geographical places, and (b) rename electorates which were named after persons or have geographical place names that lack voter recognition or are no longer suitable. (p. 7).

Let’s continue to review the example of Nicklin/Nambour in the light of this rationale.

The town of Nambour used to be the main centre in the region of the Sunshine Coast. It is no longer; and has not been for some time. The Sunshine Coast Council area centres on Maroochydore and includes the hinterland highland, although “the Coast” is actually spread out from Caloundra to Noosa. The Coast is largely the electorate of Ninderry, to which I’ll return later. Nambour is quite separated now from the Coast by the Bruce Highway. It is more part of the “Sunshine Coast hinterland.” Even in the electorate of Nicklin, Nambour is just a population centre in the south-east corner. Having lost a major hospital and its commercial centre to the Coast, Nambour is a vestige of its glory days in the 20th century. Even living “up the hill” in Mapleton, I do not regard Nambour as the major centre to which I relate. Rather like global multilateralism, people in our village operate in complex relationships with multiple centres. To shop for groceries, sometimes we go to Nambour and sometimes to Maleny. To eat out, sometimes we go to Kenilworth, but mostly to Montville and Maleny. Specialist medical appointments direct us to Buderim, Maroochydore or Brisbane. All this is by way of saying that identifying the electorate that I live in as “Nambour” does not help me to orient myself within it. There is no reason that I would assume that “Nambour” pertains to me.

When the additional geographic areas added to the proposed electorate of Nambour are taken into account, that is even more the case. Amamoor, Imbil and Kandanga have historically related more to Gympie and are now being ripped out of the electorate of Gympie to become part of Nambour. The use of town and suburb names to identify electorates may indeed be argued as complicating voter recognition, not clarifying it.

I currently know that I live in Nicklin, a complex electorate which has certain shared interests as part of the Sunshine Coast hinterland. That name identifies the electorate, not a town, or a past regional centre to which I might relate occasionally. I know that an electorate’s boundaries change over time; but essentially focus on a region understood to have shared concerns. I expect that boundaries change to enable equity across the electorate while attempting to maintain connections with regional shared interests. I have no doubt that it is a complex process to consider the equity of electoral distribution. However, the geographic naming of electorates with names already assigned to different entities such as towns or suburbs is not arguable on the basis of reducing confusion. Such a practice will never substitute for community civics education, particularly around the time of elections. Rather, it may be argued that all electorates should have names that cannot be confused with localised geographic ones. So, it could be that, with boundary changes, I might learn that I live in a complex electorate with shared interests around being part of the hinterland of the Sunshine Coast-Gympie region that has been named, say Naamba from the indigenous word for a red-flowering tea-tree (callistemon viminalis) used by the Gubbi Gubbi (also Kubbi Kubbi or Kabi Kabi) people on whose land the electorate largely stands.

Blatant Racism

Finally, to attend to the three specific name changes identified above: Maiwar to Indooroopilly; Ninderry to Coolum; and Oodgeroo to Cleveland. All three electorate names emerged with the 2017 electoral redistribution. At that time, the Qld government was formed by the Australian Labor Party. Political interests are always in the background; but one might hope that at least some of those interests at the time were concerned about the importance of incorporating indigenous knowledges into the process. The Final Determination on the redistribution (effective 29 October 2017) affirms the reasons behind retaining the proposals of Maiwar, Ninderry and Oodgeroo.

Maiwar

Maiwar is located in Brisbane’s inner west. It covers a range of suburbs including Indooroopilly, Fig Tree Pocket, Taringa, Toowong, Auchenflower, Paddington and St Lucia where the main campus of The University of Queensland is located. The electorate has very high educational attainment. It is currently held by Michael Berkman for the Australian Greens. The 2017 Final Determination states:

The name Maiwar (pronounced: May-wah), is a word used by some Aboriginal people to refer to the Brisbane River. The name was chosen due the historical significance of the river to indigenous Australians and it’s [sic] prominence as the southern boundary of this electorate.

The southern boundary has not moved in the proposed changes. The name “Indooroopilly” while almost certainly derived from indigenous words from the Yugara/Jagera-Turrbal language groups (nyindur, meaning leeches and, pilli, meaning gully) is a corrupted version and now refers to a particular localised geographic suburb. Given the irrational rationale of using localised geographic names for electorates, there is no reason for the proposed name change of Maiwar to Indooroopilly except prejudice against the original reason for the use of the name.

Ninderry

The electorate of Ninderry is also in the Sunshine Coast region and on the land of the Gubbi Gubbi. It includes the districts of Mons, Forest Glen, Kunda Park, Diddilibah, Coolum Beach, Peregian Springs, Doonan, Maroochy River, Yandina Creek, Eumundi, North Arm and Ninderry. It is difficult to understand what may be going on with this proposed name change. If the available public accounts are correct, Ninderry is a significant warrior in the stories of the Gubbi Gubbi as is Coolum. Maroochy is a young woman caught up in a dispute between these two warriors with Ninderry being understood as the injuring party and Coolum as the injured one. Effectively, Maroochy is a victim-survivor of domestic abuse. Coolum and Maroochy are by far the more prominent names in the area. However, Maroochydore (the most prominent related name) is located outside the electorate. The justification given for the change of name from Ninderry to Coolum is that Coolum is a more prominent geographic identifier in the region.

The 2017 Final Determination justifies the naming thus:

The district is named after Mount Ninderry, a prominent 304-metre mountain in this electorate. Ninderry is said to be an Aboriginal expression denoting scrub leeches, but is also the name of a legendary Aboriginal warrior who is said to have been turned into the mountain.

Given the irrational rationale of using recognisable localised geographic names for electorates, the problematic story of Ninderry, and the unsuitability of Maroochy given further factors for confusion, it would seem that further consultation with local indigenous people might have yielded a better alternative. Again, one wonders whether it was only the original justification of the 2017 Final Determination that prompted the name change rather than any other factor.

Oodgeroo

Oodgeroo is named after one of Australia’s most celebrated poets: Oodgeroo Noonucal. It includes the suburbs of Thornlands, Cleveland, Ormiston and Wellington Point, and North Stradbroke Island. The 2017 Final Determination explained the naming thus:

The Commission received a number of objections to the decision to rename the electorate of Cleveland in honour of Oodgeroo Noonuccal. It also received many comments supportive of the change. North Stradbroke Island (Minjerribah) which is entirely contained within the electorate was in many ways, Oodgeroo’s spiritual home. Her contributions as an educator, poet and activist make her worthy of recognition. The commissioners have therefore retained the name Oodgeroo for this electorate.

In the current Proposal, Minjerribah is still wholely contained within the electorate. Given the irrational rationale of using localised geographic names for electorates, there is no reason for the proposed name change of Oodgeroo to Cleveland except prejudice against the original reason for the use of the name. Such prejudice is even more blatant since the celebrity of the name cannot be disputed. Most Australian schoolchildren will encounter Oodgeroo’s work in the course of their schooling.

Conclusion and Appeal

The proposed loss of the names of Maiwar, Ninderry and Oodgeroo is a reflection of passive, racist bias. The rationale for the use of localised geographic names for broader electorates is a furphy. Particularly, in relation to the electorates of Maiwar and Oodgeroo, the name changes are unwarranted.

Objections and comments can be made to the QRC:

• Online: ecq.qld.gov.au/QRCconsultation

• Email: QRCsubmissions@ecq.qld.gov.au

• • Post: Queensland Redistribution Commission, GPO Box 1393, Brisbane, QLD, 4001 (Proposal p. 117)

Submission guidelines

Why would I want to (re)visit Wesley’s sermons? The language is archaic. The theology even more so. And to be very honest… right now, I’m feeling both bored and nauseous with it all. It’s taken me right back into the tumult of childhood and adolescence.

This emphasis on “conviction” and “assurance,” the possibility of not being a child of God, the judgementalism implied in all this—it is debilitating; and ultimately, I think that it is highly destructive (not deconstructive) for Christianity.

So, why Wesley’s sermons? Because I want to understand better this thread of the “Christian” story that has had such a profound impact on my own life, and on the lives of so many Christians today. This thread is strongly represented in charismatic, evangelical, Pentecostal, “non-denominational” and “independent” churches, para-church groups and intra-church streams.

I am now about a third of my way through the 44 Standard Sermons: the corpus for the teaching of theology in the Methodist Church of Australasia, a precursor of The Uniting Church in Australia. Frankly, I’m both flabbergasted and illuminated by the paucity of theological engagement in the material. It simply lacks depth and breadth.

Up until this point, Wesley’s conversation has basically been around a Christian identity centred on the self-conviction of salvation justified by a nod to the witness of the Holy Spirit that affirms/confirms this self-conviction. That’s problem 1! I claim my conviction that I am saved; and I justify my claim through claiming the witness of the Holy Spirit through me. The focus of claims to authority is the individual who claims the required spiritual experience.

Problem 2 is that this conviction gives me the freedom to judge the faith and action of others including the right to declaim those who participate faithfully in ritual and practice; and the concomitant undermining of the significance of those practices (while simultaneously defending them). It is highly divisive and schismatic. Like the locating of authority in an individual, this impetus to judgement does not really connect with an understanding of the role of Christian community.

Problem 3 is that this conviction of salvation imbues perfection. I am saved, therefore, I cannot sin. If I do sin, then I am not saved and need to experience assurance once again. It’s a prescription for a perpetual neurotic roundabout and stunted faith development. It doesn’t grapple with the ambiguities of being human.

I was hoping that the Sermons would provide a more significant theological reflection that might helpfully address some of the aberrations of “evangelicalism,” but they are a testimony to its roots.

So my childhood experience of limited theology, loads of unreflective scriptural quotes, lots of bible stories and no real making sense of a whole Christian framework was, unexpectedly for me, a fairly accurate reflection of the theological basis of the Methodist church.

Thankfully, the advent of the Uniting Church occurred at about the same time my adolescent self was beginning to ask questions about all of this, along with a theologically educated friend who cared enough to explore those questions with me; but, for me, the legacy of Wesley has brought with it into the Uniting Church (and contemporary Christianity) many incomplete conversations for a union of evangelical, Reformed and free church traditions based in a twentieth-century ecumenically-focussed theology.

So I continue to seek to understand this legacy; and I seriously wonder what constructive role it has for Christianity in our time because the list of negative influences seems so extensive and so pervasive.

Growing up Methodist meant lots of structured activities for children. There was Sunday School, Christian Endeavour, and then Rays; and later, Youth Group. Wonderful leaders (most of whom were women) kept us engaged in all kinds of crafts, games, stories and songs. Opportunities for leadership were embedded in the curricula. In Rays, I learned how to take minutes for meetings as “Recording Ray” and later how to lead “devotional” times with scripture readings and prayer as “Devotional Ray”. It was great for an active, precocious, intelligent child. It also ticked the boxes for Dad who was big on constant activity, productive if possible. In this atmosphere, there were lots of possibilities and few indications of any roadblocks.

Mum taught Sunday School and later jointly ran the junior high school youth group with another parent and family friend. Miss Cartmill led Junior Christian Endeavour, coordinated a children’s band, and became a valued mentor into my teenage years. She included me in the band as a tambourinist because I didn’t have another musical instrument! A creative teacher herself, she taught a class on how to teach Sunday School which I took in my early teenage years. Miss Cartmill, who by that stage had asked us to call her “Beth”, worked with a group of us teenagers to write and present a musical based on the life of the Christian martyr, Stephen. I had learned to read music by singing hymns and fiddling with a piano with some old music textbooks; and had 12 months of piano tuition at the end of primary school. The Sunday evening service was more oriented towards young people, and members of the congregation would host us for supper in their homes after it. It was a full life! The care of committed people like Beth Cartmill was extraordinary.

There was a lot of tension at home; and church was an escape too. For a variety of reasons, I was an anxious child and distraction with engaging activities was welcome. While I enjoyed all of the activities, I don’t remember my childhood as particularly happy. I know I found it difficult to understand why people would say that childhood was the best part of your life. I used to think that, if that was the case, I really didn’t want to know what the rest of life was like. There are no people to blame for that. It was a different time. Mental health issues weren’t recognised in the same way. It was easy for dysfunctional families to appear functional especially when family members were highly engaged in community activities. Church was my salvation; and I am so grateful for the people who made that possible, including my mother. At home, things were a lot more complicated.

The following text is my official retirement minute from the 38th Synod in Session of The Uniting Church in Australia Queensland Synod in May 2025. Thank you Rev. Dr Elizabeth Nolan for seeking a fulsome story.

Rev. Dr Anita Monro was baptised as an infant in the Methodist Church by her grandfather, Rev. Samuel George Monro. In 1973, at an Easter Junior Christian Endeavour camp, she experienced a deep sense of the abiding parental love of God and made her commitment to follow Jesus. She was confirmed as a member of the Uniting Church in March 1978 at Wavell Heights Uniting Church.

At a YAF rally in December 1978 where candidates for ordained ministry spoke, Anita experienced a profound sense of call to ordained ministry; and from that point worked towards that goal. Mentoring by Rev. Dr Elizabeth Nolan during Anita’s teenage and early adult years introduced her to worlds of biblical and theological scholarship that nurtured Anita’s faith.

After completing high school, she took a year off study and worked for the Uniting Church Foundation & Investment Board of the Qld Synod. She then completed a Bachelor of Arts at The University of Queensland, majoring in Religious Studies, Sociology and English Communications. During the final year of her undergraduate degree, she candidated through the Presbytery of North Brisbane, entering Trinity Theological College in 1986 to undertake a Bachelor of Theology with a double major in Scripture through Brisbane College of Theology (BCT). She met her husband-to-be, Russell Morris, at Trinity.

In 1988, Anita completed her student placement year at West Toowoomba Parish, Presbytery of The Downs, supervised by Rev. Paul Moore. With Rev. Dr Paul Walton, she was ordained on 10 December 1988 in a joint service of the Presbyteries of North Brisbane and The Downs at St Stephen’s Uniting Church in Toowoomba. Anita’s exit placement was for 12 months to Home Hill Parish in the Presbytery of North Queensland while Home Hill and Ayr were moving to become the Burdekin Parish at the end of that year. Cyclone Aivu devastated the small town at Easter that year and the remainder of the year was spent re-building from the disaster.

On 25 November 1989, Anita and Russell were married at Clayfield Uniting Church on the site of the Wooloowin Methodist Church where her parents had been married 28 years previously. Russell and Anita entered a joint placement in Maryborough Parish from 1990 to 1992. In Maryborough, they served with colleagues from both the Anglican and Roman Catholic churches who had all studied together at BCT. While at Maryborough, Anita completed an Honours degree in Religious Studies by distance education through Deakin University.

From 1993 to 1996, Anita took study leave to undertake her PhD through the Griffith University School of Theology, the postgraduate research arm of BCT. During that period, Russell was minister in placement at Stanthorpe Parish in the Presbytery of The Downs.

Her PhD studies were undertaken in philosophical theology under the supervision of Drs Elaine Wainwright RSM and Francie Oppel. Her thesis entitled “Subjecting Ambiguity: Towards a Feminist Poststructuralist Theological Methodology” included chapters addressing biblical interpretation, theological imagery for God, and Christian community development strategy. While on study leave, Anita convened the Program Committee of the ‘Women Clothed with the Sun,’ the 3rd National Gathering of Women in The Uniting Church in Australia. Anita designed and coordinated the innovative program strategy which was subsequently included in her thesis. A significant, ground-breaking piece of her thesis also was presented to the Uniting Church’s Assembly Task Group on Sexuality.

Towards the end of her study leave, Anita began editing and writing study materials for Coolamon College and undertook some supply ministry for Warwick Parish. When Russell was asked to become the General Secretary of Queensland Churches Together, Anita was offered a part-time placement with Coolamon College as Educational Developer. Over the next 5 years, Anita filled a range of roles with Coolamon, including Dean of Postgraduate Studies involving the setting up of the Coolamon postgraduate program within Sydney College of Divinity (SCD). She became Acting Principal in 2002 and negotiated the transfer of Coolamon College from BCT and SCD to Adelaide College of Divinity. In 1999, Anita had provided supply ministry for Geebung Congregation in the Presbytery of Moreton Rivers; and for 2001, she served half-time as Director of Gospel & Gender, another agency of the UCA Assembly.

From 2003 to 2008, Anita was Lecturer in Liturgy and Theology at United Theological College in Sydney and Charles Sturt University School of Theology. In 2009, she was called to be minister of Armidale Congregation in the Presbytery of New England North West in the Synod of NSW & ACT.

In 2013, Anita returned to the Qld Synod to become Principal of Grace College at The University of Queensland for ten years. During Anita’s tenure as Principal, she reformed the College’s suite of policies, including mission and values statements, risk management and strategic development plans. Anita prepared beautiful inclusive liturgies for weekly Community Dinners at Grace as well as for all special College events such as the Welcome and Valedictory services for students. She initiated and hosted monthly ecumenical Women’s Theology seminars for churches in Brisbane area and in 2015 and 2016, five-day residential Women’s Theology Conferences which attracted international and interstate speakers and workshop leaders. Anglican, Catholic and Lutheran women pursuing ministry studies particularly appreciated her mentoring and leadership in feminist theology.

During this placement, despite some serious health issues, Anita undertook a Graduate Certificate in Business (Philanthropic and Not-for-Profit Studies) through Queensland University of Technology and became a Graduate member of the Australian Institute of Company Directors. Anita successfully managed the Covid pandemic period for the College 2020-21, keeping the College open for interstate and international students especially, and providing emergency hospitality for other UQ students from other colleges to enable those colleges to continue to function. From 2021 to 2022, she facilitated a smooth transition from the college housing women only to being gender-inclusive, an innovation particularly appreciated by the UQ Senate. The ‘re-brand’ and renovations allowed Grace College to become financially secure with a full complement of students again from 2023.

Anita moved into semi-retirement in 2023, undertaking some teaching in Religious Studies at the University of Queensland and Theology at St Francis Theological College (Anglican) as part of the University of Divinity. From late 2023 until December 2024, she also provided Supply ministry for her local congregation, Blackall Range, in the Presbytery of Mary Burnett.

Anita was a member of the Assembly’s Liturgy Commission from 1994-1997 and the National Working Group on Worship from 2002-2010. She participated in the development of Uniting in Worship 2 with a particular focus on advocating for the inclusion of lament and diverse imagery for God. Anita was a member of the Uniting Church delegation for the joint UCA-Anglican dialogue (1998-2001) which produced “For the Sake of the Gospel” addressing potential stages towards unity across the denominations. In 2012, she was nominated for President of the UCA Assembly.

She served on a range of other ecclesial and organisational committees including the establishment of the Dostana Board for fostering the relationship between the Uniting Church’s Qld Synod and the Diocese of Amritsar in the Church of North India. In 2022, she represented Dostana at the Diocesan Synod and spoke at their annual Youth Conference.

Over the course of her scholarly career, Anita provided keynote addresses in various scholarly contexts including the 3rd Beverly Bellinger Memorial Lecture for the Synod of Victoria in 2001, and the 2009 Sydney conference of the international association, Societas Liturgica.

Anita’s publications include a monograph from her doctoral thesis; 2 co-edited collections on Public Theology and worship in Australia; more than 20 scholarly articles across the disciplines of biblical interpretation, systematic theology, practical theology and feminist methodology; and numerous educational and liturgical resources.

Rev Dr Anita Monro has lived and modelled an educated, informed and practical faith for a complex and diverse contemporary world. As a creative innovator, her scholarly work and leadership has not always been welcomed or appreciated by some leaders of the church and yet she has remained committed to the God of overwhelming Grace and Love, fully revealed in the incarnate Christ, and made present continually by the power of the Holy Spirit. We give thanks to God for the faithful, diverse and creative ministry of Anita and wish her well in retirement.

I grew up popularist Methodist. At least in my childhood understanding, we knew we were Protestants, because we weren’t Catholic, didn’t go to the “convent” school and didn’t worship Mary. We knew we weren’t Lutheran because we stood to sing and didn’t have communion every week (that seemed a bit Catholic!). We knew we weren’t Presbyterian because we thought we weren’t as rigid in worship and as bound by doctrine. We knew we weren’t Baptist because we christened children.

The Bible was everything. Study of Christian theology was about studying the Bible from well-entrenched interpretative perspectives about what any passage meant. Everything we needed was in the Bible; and nothing more was required… except, perhaps, John Wesley’s sermons and Charles Wesley’s hymns. Everyone went to Sunday School, even the adults!

I don’t remember us calling ourselves “evangelical” although we admired evangelists and wanted to be evangelistic. We knew we were in the line of John Wesley and his “strange warming of the heart”; and we thought that faith was about emotion, being moved. Evangelism was about spruiking to achieve such movement. Everyone was called to do it, or at least to invite others to such spruiking opportunities; and if you didn’t you were a failed Christian. Evangelistic spruiking ideally resulted in emotive confessions and “turning to Jesus”. There was no limit to the number of times a penitent sinner might respond to such as “altar call”. Although lip service was given to faith development through nurture and education, the expectation in the air was that everyone would be able to articulate an emotional “conversion” experience.

Weekly worship was a 4-hymn sandwich with a long prayer time and a sermon at the end. If Eucharist was celebrated, it was an addendum to which children were not invited. One had to be confirmed to receive the sacrament; and confirmation was almost a sacramental rite in and of itself since most of us were baptised as infants.

We weren’t really connected well into the grand Christian narrative of the creeds that we shared with most of our Christian siblings (and maybe they weren’t either!).

In this context, I had a “conversion” experience at the age of 8 years old (WTF!) It was at an Easter Christian Endeavour Convention. I had special permission to attend, because you were supposed to be 9 years old before you could go, but I didn’t turn 9 until later that year. The Sunday evening of the event, there was an emotional altar call, and I went forward to give my life to Jesus. It was a crazy, traumatic, re-assuring, emotional experience—just what it was supposed to be, apparently! I was “convicted of my sin” and in responding to the altar call, I felt clean. I also had an overwhelming sense of the parental love of God—that was the most benign element; and one that was important to me at the time and perhaps the only enduring therapeutic aspect. These days, I would definitively identify the whole experience as spiritual child abuse.

The trouble was that the reassurance of the experience lessened with everything that I thought I did wrong, whether others drew it to my attention or not. If I didn’t read the Bible and my bible study notes every day… If I thought something mean… Or did something stupid, it was all evidence that I was “back-sliding” although that wasn’t the language I used at the time. That language was introduced to me in my teenage years.

I went back to the Convention the following year and encouraged others to go with me. At least one of my friends made a commitment too. And I re-committed my life to Jesus and felt clean again. But it didn’t stick again and I went back the following year. The fourth year, my family was on a long travelling holiday and I couldn’t attend. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing!

These days, I take away from that early experience a whole mixture of emotion and reflection. I still remember an overwhelming sense of the love of God; and the powerful need I had for that sense of unconditional love. I also struggle with the emotional manipulation of the whole activity; and what that meant for a small girl who really was seeking a sense of reassurance of having a place in the world.