In Congregationalism, to marry a minister was to acquire a full-time unpaid job. At least until the 1970s, we called a minister, and, with his wife, had two people for the price of one.
When Wyclif church was about to call a minister, Len Pearce, the moderator, was asked, “What’s his wife like?”
“Good at looking after him, I hope, and that is all we need to know,” said Len firmly. It was a new idea.
Ministers’ children had the task of finding their own ways, without becoming timid conformers or wild rebels, in the spotlight of their fathers’ ministries.
Ministers were fathers then; now in the Uniting Church they are as likely to be mothers, but Congregational women ministers, though pioneers, were a rarity.
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A number of Congregational families contained more than one minister.
In Victoria for instance, Rev. Daniel Gunson (d. 1915) was the father of Rev. George Henry Gunson (1886–1972) and Rev. William Norman Gunson (1883–1942) and the grandfather of Rev. John Gunson (b. 1931). Rev. Ronald Walter Albiston (b. 1919) was the son of Rev. Walter Albiston (1889–1965). Rev. Willet Bevan (1871–1933) was the son of Rev. Llewellyn David Bevan (1842–1918).
Many of the Congregational laity had a minister somewhere in the family. One participant, for instance, wrote:
I come from a very long line of Congregationalists beginning with my childhood attending Augustine, Hawthorn, in the 1930's. My four grandparents were all Congregationalists, and in particular my maternal grandparents, Mr and Mrs Morris, were very prominent in South Australian Congregationalism. My father-in-law, Rev A. C. Stevens, was a prominent churchman both in Adelaide and Melbourne.
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NANCY LOCKLEY’S STORY
Nancy Lockley is the daughter of Rev. Frederick North, who ministered at Waverly Congregational Church in NSW, and at Amberley-Booval, Eagle Junction, Yeronga-Moorooka and Cracknell Rd, Annerley in Queensland.
From 1917 to 1927 he served as principal of the newly-established Congregational Theological College.
Nancy’s mother was Kathleen Beatrice Dunstan, who was the daughter of Rev. and Mrs C. C. Dunstan, an Anglican minister from Bondi, Sydney.
Nancy became the second wife of Rev. Dr Lindsay Lockley, Principal of Cromwell College and author of Congregationalism in Australia.
She knows something about ministers' families.
Some memories of my father, Rev. Frederick North, and of early days in Cracknell Rd
My first memories, (still very clear although more than 80 years ago) are of the manse at Cracknell Rd Congregational Church, Annerley, in Brisbane, when my father was the minister. It was a history-making time as a new church was being built to replace the old church hall on the corner of Juster Street. That building had been first in the grounds of Mr B. G. Wilson who conducted services and Bible Class there- before it became the Cracknell Rd church.
I remember the exciting time when our house was being moved- a huge operation which took longer in those days- and was slow enough for us to enjoy living in a house on wheels. It was moved to Horatio Street—backwards—then sideways until it faced a small side street. That left the main road site vacant for the new church. Plans had been drawn up by a well-known architect, Brenan Gargett—and this was a little different from some suburban churches which were fairly plain wooden buildings. Later when completed, with its fan-vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows and a historic pipe organ, it seemed quite special to us. The pulpit, communion table and chairs were exquisitely carved by Mr Tomkins, the father of Ruth Watt.
A first Congregational College building was built at the back of the new church site. There were four live-in students—Bill Young, Bert Trotman, ? Smith and Bill Hardy (who later became the Anglican Bishop of Ballarat). I met Bill years later when he was the Dean of Newcastle and I was teaching at the Anglican Grammar School. I remembered Bill from my seven-year-old days as rather pompous—and wondered if I would tell him about my “find”. It was a book from the old college library which really belonged to him. On the back cover was a written list of Bill’s lectures for the week. At the end was written, “Saturday night. Hot bath.” It reminded me that the students came up for dinner and hot baths as the college building had only cold showers. I bravely showed him the book, and he laughed!! So much for pomposity!!
There was a tennis court between the newly-located manse, the new church and the college building. I remember watching with curiosity and admiration when Eric Montgomery, a later student, played tennis with one arm. He would hold the racquet and ball in one hand, throw the ball up and wham!! It seldom missed its mark. The students came up to the manse for dinner and my mother had help at this time. There was an extra-large table in the back room, comfortably seating nine, but I think we had our children’s meals separately. I hope so!!
I remember my father well. He must have walked many miles visiting his parishioners—no cars for ministers then, so his shoes needed a few cardboard cut-outs until he could afford to have them re-soled.
My mother found life in Queensland difficult at first. She came from a lovely old rectory in Bondi where my grandfather was the rector. Flies! Mosquitoes! Old iron tubs on a bench under the house for a “laundry”! But she coped very well and was able to use her musical experience, playing the pipe organ for church services and the piano for our many social evenings.
Teenage times were busy with CYF camps, memorable Easter camps when we rose to greet the sunrise. There were the war years when we helped in the Congregational dining-hall in the city—early before we went to work and in the evening. We caught the first tram into the city—I think about 6 a.m.
I was a member of the Australian Student Christian Movement and went to four national conferences. Although these were ecumenical gatherings, I was surprised (not really) that so many of the leaders were Congregationalists. We were lucky to have the Rev. Henry Wells as the music director—what a magical musician he was!
The Griffiths lived in Ekibin Road not far from the manse. My sister and I (about 6 and 9) were invited to take our silkworms to feast on their luscious mulberry trees. Later, when Thelma Murray (Griffiths) became one of the first women to be ordained in the Queensland Congregational Union, I was a little in awe of her. She was very dignified, often wore black, and didn’t seem like our friendly silk-worm lady. But later still when Lindsay and I visited her (she was then a chaplain at Princess Alexandra Hospital) we spent delightful afternoons with “the lady in black” as she entertained us with stories of her life in a country parish—travelling on a bicycle!! On those afternoons she was often dressed in white slacks and pretty coloured blouses!
When the first principal of the university’s Cromwell College was appointed and came with his family to Brisbane, we were honoured to have him worshipping in the Cracknell Rd congregation before their home on the University property was completed. My mother and Mrs Lockley were good friends and she thought that the new principal was a “very special person.” Little did she know that her own daughter many years later would echo those very words.
Another Congregational coincidence—and there were many! When my father was the minister at Eagle Junction church he was asked to baptise a baby boy. That baby is now the Rev. Ken Blackwell who, at 92, with his wife Ruth, is spreading showers of blessing wherever he goes. We regularly exchange church papers, and his are always accompanied by long hand-written letters full of exciting news and adventures. He certainly is a miracle man. I guess he will be a valuable member of the Church and of society when he is 100.
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Next: Chapter 11. A Discipleship of Equals
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