Commissioners James and Jan Condon with their children, sons-in-law and grandchildren. Image: Supplied For retired Salvation Army officer Commissioner James Condon, coming to understand his earthly father was part of a journey of faith, forgiveness and, ultimately, a deeper understanding of God as loving Father. With Father’s Day this Sunday, we are sharing James’ story of building a beautiful, connected life shaped by acceptance, forgiveness and redemption. BY NAOMI SINGLEHURST For many years, every time James visited his father’s grave, he would weep. Not just for the loss of his dad, but for the conversations they never had and the deeper connection he had always longed for. It wasn’t until a friend, who was also a counsellor, suggested he visit the grave and pour his heart out to his dad, that healing truly began. James is a devoted father to two daughters and grandfather to four grandchildren. The man who longed for a deeper relationship with his own father has since spent his life mentoring, encouraging and nurturing others though his work with The Salvation Army and wider community. Conversations never had Growing up in Nowra on the South Coast of New South Wales, James describes his father as a hardworking but emotionally distant man who left home before dawn each morning to work as a milk inspector. His father was Roman Catholic and his mother Presbyterian, a marriage that in those days was frowned upon by many. “My dad would finish work, go to the local pub, have his beers and by the time he got home his dinner was in the oven,” James recalls. “He’d eat and go to bed.” “We never really connected,” he says. “We never had any in-depth conversations.” Home life brought other challenges as well. James (left) with his father and sister. Image: Supplied James says he grew up hearing that he was “no good” and would “never be any good” from his mother, who could be extremely harsh in her discipline. Discovering God as Father As a teenager, James drifted away from church. “Those years away from God and the church were very difficult years,” he says. “I contemplated suicide. I didn’t see myself as a person of value and worth.” Everything changed when he attended a youth rally organised by local churches at a Salvation Army corps. It was the first time he had heard of The Salvation Army. That night, a young woman stood and shared how God had transformed her life. “I remember saying to myself, ‘I want what she’s got’,” James says. After surrendering his life to Jesus, James’ life changed in many ways, but he continued to wrestle with feelings of inadequacy, something that slowly changed as his faith matured. “I absolutely now see God as my Father,” he says. “But it’s been a journey.” Believing in good for his family James married Jan, who became not only his wife but a faithful partner in life and ministry. “Jan’s been absolutely marvellous,” James says. Together they have shared more than five decades of marriage, raised two daughters, welcomed four grandchildren and served in ministry across Australia and overseas. Looking back, James sees that busyness at times kept him from being the father he wanted to be. Yet today, he treasures the close relationships he enjoys with his family. “I’ve got a great relationship with my daughters, my grandchildren, absolutely,” he says. And some of his favourite memories are the simplest ones. “I’ve had the joy, among many things, of teaching each of our grandchildren to fish,” he says with a smile. Moments of grace and reconciliation Despite the distance he felt from his father, there were moments James treasured. One came on his wedding day. During the reception, his father stood to give a speech and, as part of it, said: “I’m proud of James.” Simple words, but some of the only words of affirmation he heard from his dad. More than 50 years later, the memory still moves him. Years later, another moment would stay with him. James was leading a Salvation Army event in Brisbane when he received a call from his mother. His father was in intensive care and asking for him. He felt a deep sense of God’s reassurance that he would see his father before he passed. When he arrived at the hospital, James walked quietly to his father’s bedside. “I walked over to the bed and he just burst into tears,” James recalls. His dad’s emotions showed a love his words couldn’t. In the days that followed, another piece of the story emerged. A friend who had shared the hospital room told James that shortly before his death, his father had asked a simple question: “Do you think there’s a place in heaven for me?” At the funeral, James was invited to read the Scripture: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” “When I was reading that, I felt God say, ‘That’s your father’,” James says. Understanding his parents’ story As the years passed, James began to understand more about his parents’ lives. A relative revealed that his father had effectively been ostracised by his large family when he married. "I thought about the impact that would have had on Dad," he says. Later, his mother shared many things she had never spoken about before. "I absolutely honour my father and mother because I know they gave their best and did what they could, despite their own story, their own circumstances and their own needs in life," James shares. A father to many James and Jan poured their lives into others as they served God through The Salvation Army. During their years leading The Salvation Army in Papua New Guinea, they opened their home to young leaders for Bible study, mentoring and fellowship. James and Jan Condon. Image: Supplied Over time, the relationships became something more than mentoring. “After a while they started to call us Mum and Dad,” James smiles. “We have two daughters, but many sons.” The same heart can be seen every Tuesday evening at Just Men, a men’s mentoring and support group at Caloundra Salvos (Qld) that James started and continues to lead. For James, one of the most rewarding aspects of the ministry is seeing men discover God as their friend and as Father. ‘Well done, son’ Earlier this year, while attending an interdenominational faith event, a young man he had never met prayed for James and shared what he believed God wanted to say to him. The words were simple. “Well done, son.” “There were no more powerful words that could have been spoken to me,” James says “That penetrated my heart.” Today, James speaks often of gratitude – for faith, the power of love and forgiveness, Jan, his daughters and grandchildren, the many people he has been privileged to walk alongside, his parents, and the God he has come to know as Father. Looking back on the life he and Jan and family have shared, he smiles again. “We’ve had the most wonderful, blessed adventure with God,” he says. “And it’s not over yet.” If this story has raised concerns for you or someone you know, support is available. Lifeline provides 24-hour crisis support on 13 11 14. Beyond Blue can be contacted on 1300 22 4636. In an emergency, call 000. Commissioner James Condon served as a Salvation Army officer for more than 50 years, including as Commissioner (leader) of the former Australia Eastern Territory. Since retiring in 2016, he has remained highly active in ministry through The Salvation Army and the wider Christian community. He currently serves as chairman of Australia Prays, an interdenominational prayer movement that brings together Christians from across Australia, while also continuing to mentor and encourage people in their faith journey.

For Major Steven Lavaki, peace-building is not always carried out behind his desk. BY MS SYEIDAH GENIEMBO Kainantu is a town in Papua New Guinea’s Eastern Highlands Province, part of the country’s rugged mountainous interior. It is also a place where The Salvation Army has deep roots, serving communities through its churches, health and education programmes and, increasingly, the painstaking work of peacebuilding. Across Papua New Guinea’s Highlands, conflict between clans and communities can be triggered by disputes over land and resources, election results, deaths, and accusations of sorcery or grievances stretching back generations. What may begin as a disagreement between individuals can draw in extended families and neighbouring clans, creating cycles of retaliation that are difficult to break. The growing presence of modern firearms has made such conflicts increasingly deadly. The consequences extend far beyond those doing the fighting. Families are displaced, homes destroyed, gardens abandoned and children kept from school. In 2021, the United Nations condemned fighting near Kainantu that claimed 19 lives. Yet the region also has a history of reconciliation. In 2016, The Salvation Army worked alongside other churches to help broker a peace agreement between two clans in Eastern Highlands Province, bringing an end to 11 years of hostilities. Major Steven and his team visiting the fighting tribes in the highlands of Papua New Guinea. That work continues. Supported through the PNG-Australia Partnership’s Church Partnership Program, Salvation Army officers and other church leaders are building relationships across dividing lines, returning repeatedly to communities where trust has broken down and creating opportunities for dialogue. For Major Steven Lavaki, however, peace-building is not always conducted around a meeting table. Sometimes ministry means raising The Salvation Army flag above his vehicle and driving directly towards the sound of gunfire. They come running out of the trees in bursts. Young men, barefoot on hard ground, rifles lifted, bows drawn. The crack of a gun answers the hiss of an arrow cutting the air. Smoke hangs low. Someone shouts and another falls. The road that cuts between the two villages is empty of traffic and full of fear. Into this, a white utility with a yellow, red and blue flag tied to its frame moves forward at a steady crawl. It does not stop at the first sound of gunfire. It keeps coming. Major Steven Lavaki is at the wheel. Beside him sits his wife, also in uniform. Neither of them looks away. “We go straight in,” he says. “They know us. They won’t touch us.” Most days, Major Steven’s work looks very different. He sits behind a desk in Kainantu, answering emails, managing staff, organising church programs and field visits; working through the steady demands of administration. The routine is quiet, ordered and predictable. Then the phone rings. A short message. Fighting has broken out! He leaves the office, raises the flag above his vehicle and does the opposite to what most people would do. He heads towards the conflict. “We go straight in,” he says. “They know us. They won’t touch us.” Major Steven is a Salvation Army officer serving in Eastern Highlands Province. His role has placed him in the middle of some of the worst tribal fighting in the region. The disputes vary. In one area, clans are fighting over land believed to contain gold, over sorcery accusations or drug and alcohol related issues. In others, old grievances have reignited after political disputes or deaths in the community. Major Steven and his team visiting the displaced villagers during the tribal fighting. The pattern is familiar. Villages deserted, houses burned and gardens left to rot. Families scatter, some sleeping under rocks or staying with relatives. Young men take up guns, bows and bush knives. Many are still schoolboys. On that road, the fight has already taken a life. A boy is carried out by his friends with blood running down his shirt. He is young, likely not past grade eight. They are still trying to save him. Major Steven stops the car, lifts the boy inside, and drives to the nearest hospital. However, when he gets there, the doctor says the boy is already dead. “It was strange to see people with blood, trying their best to find help,” Major Steven says. There is always risk. He drives on anyway. “I feel fear. But I also feel a duty to protect life, to save life.” When Major Steven and others arrive on the scene of conflict, they begin by placing themselves between the two sides, somewhere visible, where all the fighters can see them. On one occasion, church leaders from several denominations joined police and moved into the middle of the road. They set down a metal drum. “This is the boundary,” they told the fighters. “You cannot cross!” It forced a pause. The shooting slowed, then the guns fell silent. However, this is only the beginning. The harder work comes after the slaughter stops. Major Steven starts with visits. He sends messages ahead and meetings are arranged with community leaders and those directing the fighting. Sometimes the reception is tense particularly in situations where the feeling of loss is fresh and where anger understandably sits just beneath the surface. “They are still angry. But when they see us, there is a relief,” he says. “I feel fear. But I also feel a duty to protect life, to save life.” He opens with prayer. He reads from the Bible. His wife prays with the women and speaks plainly about what the fighting has done to their families. The language is direct and the message is familiar. “It touches them,” Major Steven says. “They begin to think about stopping.” The visits continue. One side, then the other, again and again. There is no quick settlement. In one area, it took two years of talking before both sides agreed to stop fighting. The work depends on persistence and on practical support. Each trip needs fuel, food and time away from other duties. Through the PNG-Australia Partnership’s Church Partnership Program, The Salvation Army has been able to sustain those visits and maintain a presence over time. “Without Australian support it would be very hard for us to keep going back,” Major Steven says. “This work needs many visits. It takes time to build trust and bring people to peace. The support helps us do that.” Women speak with the force of grief, and they tell of the damage done to their families demanding that it stop. The men listen. When both sides finally agree to meet, the atmosphere is controlled but fragile. The location is chosen carefully. Food is placed in the centre: sweet potato, greens and rice. The fighters stand apart, watching. Leaders step forward first. They speak about what has been lost. About children out of school, about gardens destroyed, about the future that is closing in on them if the fighting continues. There are no grand gestures. A few leaders shake hands. Others do not. The distance between the groups remains but it is enough that they have come together at all. “When we see you, it is like Heaven is coming down. We change our minds.” Women speak with the force of grief, and they tell of the damage done to their families demanding that it stop. The men listen. “They don’t beat around,” Major Steven says. “They say what needs to be said.” From there the process continues. More meetings and more visits. The anger does not disappear, but it is managed, then slowly reduces. Over time, people begin to move back. They rebuild their houses, plant new gardens and their children return to school. Major Steven does not describe it as success but as progress. In the Highlands, peace is not declared. It is worked at, repeatedly, and violence can return without warning. One fighter once told him what his presence meant. “When we see you, it is like Heaven is coming down. We change our minds.” Major Steven repeats the line without embellishment. Then he turns back to the routine of his other work: emails, meetings and budgets. Until the next call comes. This article was re-posted in All the World, the online magazine of the international Salvation Army. It originally appeared in Papua New Guinea’s Post Courier newspaper and was republished in The Salvation Army PNG Facebook page.

Officer appointment changes for the Australia Territory, effective from 13 January 2027 (unless otherwise stated), have been released. Please pray for those who are affected by these changes – for the officers who will be moving and any children, along with corps and centres that will be receiving new officer personnel. The Territorial Commander Commissioner Miriam Gluyas, has approved the appointment changes. To view the PDF, click here.

Pastors from Ryde, NSW on a two-day retreat, part of their journey towards unity and oneness. Image: Supplied BY LAUREN MARTIN The Salvation Army is employing six Local City Mission Catalysts to work to connect local churches and mobilise them to serve their local communities. The roles, which have already been advertised, are being partially funded by The Salvation Army, and partially funded by the churches of the city in which they will work. City to City Australia, an organisation that assists churches to unify for mission, is supporting the roles through training and resourcing. Ryde Corps Salvationist Grieg Whittaker is the Director of Movement at City to City Australia and has been instrumental in the design of the new Salvation Army Local City Mission Catalyst positions. “Essentially the catalyst role is to connect the church to the city and the city to the church,” he said. “They are the conduit of connection.” The roles are being strategically located in six areas of Australia where churches have already been on a journey towards unity and oneness. The locations are Victor Harbour in South Australia; the Canterbury-Bankstown region of Sydney in New South Wales; Gold Coast and Cairns in Queensland; Frankston in Victoria and Ryde in Sydney. The position in Ryde has been operational for a number of years as a pilot program, and the success of church unity at mobilising Christians for mission has been the driver for the expansion. Each catalyst position will work with existing corps and mission expressions in the area that they are located in. Assistant Chief-Secretary - Mission Major Kim Haworth said The Salvation Army has a heart for oneness across the body of Christ and is in a unique position to draw Christians together for mission. “There is such favour on The Salvation Army in Australia, and that means we can open doors that sometimes other churches cannot. This puts us in a prime position to leverage that favour for the benefit of transforming local cities with the love of Jesus, where this role is placed around the country,” she said. “Our mission is to transform lives and communities both spiritually and socially and the best way we can do that is by uniting with the broader body of Christ. When we join with the wider church, we have greater opportunity to bring heaven to earth and advance the kingdom of God through our combined work.” The six locations chosen are part of a two-year trial, where the learnings from the catalyst position will be used to scale the project, if successful. The catalyst workers will work with churches to develop opportunities for mission, connecting Christians with places and people. According to Greig, the goal is that every Christian in the areas would know their “Three P’s”: - A Place to be missionally connected. - A Person or persons to walk alongside and share the love of Jesus. - A Partner to come and join them who is not from the church and doesn’t know Jesus but wants to come on mission. “Churches have been good with vertical discipleship, that’s ‘me and God,” said Greig. “The mission catalyst will help pastors to mobilise their people to have their vocation discipleship pathway enabled for them.” For Greig, the generous posture of The Salvation Army towards resourcing all churches in a city for mission is at the heart of God’s mission for the world: “All of a sudden, we’re saying we’re not just about our brand, we’re about the Kingdom of God. Everything God has given us, we are going to give to the body of Christ, including our brand! “This is the way God always designed the Body of Christ to be.”

In the fifth of a series spotlighting this year’s cadets of the Rescued session, Salvos Online journalist LERISSE SMITH chatted with Chantal Tait about her passion for corps and the love of socialising with people and hearing their stories, the art of playing the timbrel well – and being a Disney LEGO fanatic when she has a spare moment. Chantal, could you rewind for us…when did the call to officership hit and what has made you say that big ‘yes’? The big ‘yes’ happened in 2024. My corps officers at Kwinana (WA) received an appointment change at the start of the year, which meant that the corps was going to be without an officer for the interim. At the time, my role at the corps was the Corps Sergeant Major, and I assisted the Area Officer with the running of the corps. I was also working at the Western Australia Divisional Headquarters at the time, and my manager allowed me to work from the corps one day a week. It was during that time that the calling became more apparent to me. I always joke and say to people, it’s almost like God knew that I needed to try before I said, absolutely, yes, that’s what I want to do! Chantal says she always has a philosophy about the timbrel – she loves the musical instrument as long as it’s played properly and on the beat. Here she is (centre) marching with fellow timbrel players. Where are you serving at the moment and what’s your role? My placement is at Perth Fortress Corps in Western Australia. It’s a lovely corps and a very traditional corps, but I love being part of the corps. Everyone has been very welcoming. At the start of the year, I spent a lot of time observing what happens on Sundays and during the week when I am there, which felt very foreign to me as I am used to doing things around the corps. I’ve been welcomed into the songster and timbrel group. I always have a philosophy – I love the timbrel as long as it’s played properly and on the beat. Any standout moments that are really shaping you as a future officer? One thing that is standing out to me at the moment is being in a different environment and location. Having the opportunity to learn from Major Aaron and Captain Lauren Stobie has really opened my eyes and broadened my perspective. Seeing how they navigate both the joys and challenges of being corps officers has helped me understand the role in a way that I never could as a corps member. It has given me a new appreciation for the responsibilities, pressures, and rewards that come with ministry leadership. And where are you feeling stretched right now? I don’t like being still, and it doesn’t come naturally to me. Yet I’m learning that stillness is often where I hear God most clearly, and discovering what works for me in this space is an ongoing journey. I am also being stretched in my preaching. Before becoming a cadet, I had only preached a few times, but through my classes, I am growing in confidence and discovering my own style. God continues to stretch me as I seek to know Him more deeply and listen more closely to His voice. And what strengths do you lean on the most? I love admin! You can give me admin ’til the cows come home and it’s my thing. So that’s one of my big strengths. So, I am really missing doing this at the moment, but I am also learning and developing new strengths as I work in the corps. When not knee-deep in her studies, Chantal loves the footy and is a passionate Fremantle Dockers member. She recently attended a game with her son, Byron (centre) and his fiancée, Laura (right). What focus areas of officership really fire you up and why? My focus areas at the moment are corps ministry and social mission. I love seeing people come to know God and having the privilege of walking alongside them in their faith journey. Being invited into people’s significant life moments is both humbling and rewarding. I also have a strong passion for social mission. During my recent placement at an AOD recovery centre, I saw how spirituality can be integrated into recovery and the positive impact it has on residents’ lives. It was encouraging to hear the faith stories of both residents and staff and witness the role that faith and community can play in recovery. If you could design your dream appointment today, what would it look like and who would you most hope to impact? My dream Salvation Army appointment would combine corps ministry and social mission. I would love to be part of a community where everyone feels welcome, regardless of their faith or situation, and where practical support and spiritual care work hand in hand. My passion is walking alongside people, helping them experience hope, belonging, and the love of God throughout their journey. And just for fun, when you switch off, what do you love doing? I don’t switch off a lot. But when I do, I am that crafty person. My passion is LEGO. I have numerous boxes that are sitting there waiting to be built. Last year, I gifted myself the Disney castle because I’m a Disney fanatic! I also love going to the Footy with my son and his fiancée. Love LEGO? So does Chantal – especially all things Disney! The cadet loves creating LEGO Disney masterpieces when she has a spare moment. Here she is finishing off her Winnie the Pooh creation. She also built this stunning Disney Castle. READ MORE: Rescued and ready to go!

Salvation Army officers who have concluded their service in 2026: Effective 17 August Please remember Captain Janine Lamb (Skinner) in your thoughts and prayers as she concluded her service, effective 17 August 2026. Effective 31 July Please remember Majors Leanne and Lincoln Stevens in your thoughts and prayers as they conclude their service. We thank God for the faithful ministry they have shared and the dedication with which they have served. As they move into this new season, may they know God’s abiding peace, be led by His guiding hand, and find deep joy and purpose in all that lies ahead. Effective 19 July Please remember Captain BJ Baillie in your thoughts and prayers as he concluded his service, effective 19 July 2026. We thank God for his commitment and faithful ministry shared throughout his service. As BJ enters this new chapter, may he continue to experience God’s presence and guidance, and may he be blessed with peace, fulfilment, and joy in the journey ahead. Effective 2 April Please remember Captains Ashley and Rita Biermann in your thoughts and prayers as they concluded their service, effective 2 April 2026. Effective 3 March Please remember Major Phil Staines in your thoughts and prayers as he concluded his service, effective 3 March 2026 Effective 28 January Please remember Captain Marie Kovacs in your thoughts and prayers as she concluded her service, effective 28 January 2026. ‌ Effective 8 January Please remember Captain Gemma Keogh in your thoughts and prayers as she concluded her service, effective 8 January 2026. We give thanks to God for her faithful ministry and dedicated service. As Gemma steps into a new season, we pray that God’s peace will surround her, His wisdom will guide her, and that every new opportunity will bring joy, purpose, and deep fulfilment.

To read Lenore’s Promoted to Glory notice and appointment history, click here.

To read the latest international appointment bulletin, click here.

Each week through 2026, Salvationists around the world are uniting in prayer for the same territory or region of The Salvation Army. Prayer requests are shared by the territory/region to help us pray with precision and power for one another. This week (31 August – 7 September) we pray for The Salvation Army in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). This territory has 497 officers (317 active, 180 retired); 22 cadets; 201 corps; 118 outposts; 39,261 senior soldiers; 3283 adherents; 16,780 junior soldiers; and 5441 employees. Colonels Dieudonné and Philippine Tsilulu lead the territory. Joy and hope on display at a recent event in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The work of the Democratic Republic of Congo Territory includes: · Education · Health clinics · Disaster response · Community development · Modern slavery and human trafficking response. To read more about the Ebola outbreak in the DRC and The Salvation Army’s ongoing response, click here. Tragically, the Ebola outbreak in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) continues to escalate. Two people have died after presenting with Ebola symptoms at The Salvation Army’s Kansangani clinic. Prayer requests: · Pray for reconciliation and lasting peace in the Democratic Republic of Congo. · Pray that the provinces of Uturi, North and South Kivu, and the populations affected by Ebola, are protected, and that this pandemic comes to an end in our country and in neighbouring nations. · Pray for the Territorial Prayer Convention, celebrating 92 years of The Salvation Army's mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo. To find out more about the Democratic Republic of Congo Territory, click here. To find out more about The Salvation Army’s prayer focus, and to download the 2026 prayer schedule, click here.

Majors Johnmark and Nicole Snead have been Corps Officers at Hobart for the past 10 years. BY LAUREN MARTIN At the back of the Hobart Corps platform is a sign that’s been there for more than 10 years, boldly proclaiming that the corps is ‘A Church for the City’. When Majors Johnmark and Nicole Snead arrived as corps officers a decade ago, the Holy Spirit used that sign to spark a vision of integrated ministry for the corps, one that would “shift the focus beyond the four walls”. It hasn’t been easy. “[The corps has] walked a road marked by both mountaintop moments and valleys of deep challenge,” says Nicole. “There have been seasons of loss that tested our resilience and reshaped our community.” The early years were particularly difficult. A major building project was abruptly shelved by head office. The closure of the corps band – no longer viable due to declining and ageing membership – brought hurt and led to a significant exodus. A cluster of more than 30 deaths in the corps community weighed heavily with grief. And then came COVID, bringing isolation and further disruption. Johnmark and Nicole say only God’s faithfulness saw them, and their corps community, through the challenges. “We continued to just sow the vision, do the work,” said Johnmark. The ‘work’ he’s referring to was that of relationship and discipleship: nothing ‘new’, and it’s not ‘rocket science’. “There is often a pull within The Salvation Army toward discovering ‘what’s new’,” Johnmark observed. “We just do the simple things, and we do them really well. Acts of genuine love. Never underestimate what acts of genuine love can do in someone’s life. We focus on Kingdom outcomes rather than corps-growth outcomes.” That Kingdom focus has seen the corps orient itself towards others, now opening its doors six days a week to the community, and working in team with other Salvation Army mission expressions to love, serve and disciple the city. “Our doors are open, not just physically but relationally,” says Nicole, “creating space for people to belong, be heard, and encounter God.” Hobart Corps volunteers at the MRA Toy Run. Relationships anchor corps community Nicole says that through the ‘hard yards’, the truth about what is important was made clear. “What has sustained The Salvation Army Hobart is not programs or buildings, but deep relationships – with Jesus and with one another. “When structures shifted, and comforts fell away, those relationships became the anchor. It’s been in shared prayer, honest conversations, faithful service, and quiet perseverance that God continued to shape us into a people of hope.” That depth of relationship is now offered, lovingly and freely, to all who walk through the doors. And it’s on full display at the corps’ Sunday Dinner, a free three-course meal for anyone, which has about 50 people regularly attending. “Do they all have a faith? No,” says Johnmark. “Do they swear like troopers? Some of them, yes! “But are the values of the kingdom of God coming alive in them? YES! It might not be full salvation yet, but there are measures of salvation there. We value the intangible. That’s where we see God at work.” (Left) Major Johnmark Snead speaks at the beginning of Hobart Corps’ Salvos Sunday Dinner. (Right) Volunteers helping in the kitchen at the Salvos Sunday Dinner. Intentionality is key to discipleship A SHIFTm2M (Ministries to Movement) discipleship training three years ago was ‘God timing’ for the corps. “We really sensed that God was saying, ‘I want you to focus on making disciple-makers’,” says Johnmark. “That year we were offered a move [change-of-appointment], but we said, ‘No, it’s not the right time.’ We pulled together a disciple-making cohort and started meeting once a month.” “Now, we are seeing growth through this intentional discipleship,” says Nicole, “with a growing cohort committed to spiritual formation, disciple-making, and living out faith in everyday life. We are a corps learning to go deep, not just wide.” The disciple-making cohort is seen as ‘basic training’ for anyone in the corps who wants to go deeper with others. They might serve in the recovery space at Recovery Church, in community spaces, Salvo Connect, or leading small groups. “All of them learning to know the process and the pathway of how we make disciples who make disciples,” says Johnmark. “This is our investment in the future.” The other ‘future investment’ is happening within the youth space at Hobart Corps, which is exploding with unchurched young people, whereas 10 years ago, the youth group consisted of 95 per cent corps kids. “[We are so proud of] the way in which our leaders just make space for, and love the kids on the margins,” says Johnmark “It’s messy. Nothing’s clean, but there’s genuine love and safety for teenagers … God is absolutely at work.” (Left) Hobart Corps’ worship team. (Right) Vanessa sharing her story of transformation during worship. And discipleship is at the heart of the youth ministry as well, with Nicole saying that young people are “not just turning up, but owning their faith, discovering their God-given identity, and stepping into leadership.” God is absolutely at work. And it’s evident. Lives are being transformed. People who are volunteering are deciding to follow Jesus. People who are deciding to follow Jesus are wanting to volunteer. Whilst Johnmark and Nicole have never focused on corps growth, their commitment to the ‘Jesus-way’ of loving relationship and intentional discipleship is driving healthy, sustainable growth at Hobart Corps. “The corps’ gathered worshipping community is excited,” says Johnmark. “They’re saying, “Look at all these new people! How good is God!’” Jesus-centred, Spirit-led, hope revealed. Please keep Johnmark and Nicole and their team at Hobart Corps in your prayers. Lucy volunteers at a Hobart Salvos event with mascot ‘Shieldy’. A noticeboard at Hobart Salvos showing the programs held throughout the week. :

Rescuing the lost ... a section of William Booth’s ‘Farm Colony’ illustration that appeared in his book ‘In Darkest England and the Way Out’. (Full image at the end of this article) BY BARRY GITTINS Life for early-day Salvationists was far from dull. The August 1883 issues of the War Cry, published 143 years ago this month, make that abundantly clear. The Kadina Salvos in South Australia were marching along with a brass band while “the Devil was raging [when] a nice little stone came over a fence into the procession, striking one of our Bandsmen on the leg, but, thank God, did not do any damage”. Then, as now, detractors were suspicious of this Salvation Army – publicans were particularly concerned that many testifying at the Salvos’ “good Free-and-Easy” meetings “did not now spend their money in the public-house”. At Port Augusta Salvos (SA) – where they held ‘Sisters’ meetings, ‘Brothers’ meetings, temperance meetings, open-air services, prayer meetings, ‘Cottage’ meetings and ‘Holiness’ meetings – many a “Great Drunkard and Swearer” was changing their life and finding “the desire was all gone for drink and pipe”. Then, as now, substance abuse and addiction were harming the lives of individuals and families. And then, as now, lives were being changed for the better. At Wallaroo Salvos (SA) – and in other places throughout the colonies – Salvos were using ‘Thanksgiving Teas’, ‘Grand Devil Driving’ meetings, ‘Grand Hosanna’ meetings, ‘Nicodemus’ meetings and ‘Tea Festivals’ – even indulging in “Hallelujah Waves of Handkerchiefs” – to denounce “the Demon Drink [as] the forerunner of all evil”. Horses played a vital role in how early Salvationists spread the Gospel throughout Australia. Ironically, while The Salvation Army declared its intention to “Wage War against King Alcohol”, Salvos returned home from ‘Sunday Knee-drills’ (prayer meetings) declaring they were “like giants refreshed with new wine”. The desire to promote changed lives included the publication of testimonies from “a converted actress” and “a converted spiritist”, who publicly pondered whether to burn, sell or take to headquarters their library of “infidel, spiritualist, pantheist and ‘magic’ books”. Changed lives also led to a desire to help others change theirs. The War Cry’s August 1883 issues also include additional subscriptions from friends and individuals (contributing a breadboard, a sugar basin, two candlesticks, stamps, etc.) to the Army’s Home for Fallen Sisters (a halfway house for women wanting to leave sex work). The Army’s interventions were not always welcome. Later that same year, a man “driving in a trap [wagon] drove through the crowd of an open-air ring and returned, thus risking the lives of the people. Some rough young fellows from a public-house saw it and came out, pulled the man out of the trap and thrashed him. Then the Publican turned Constable locked him up and summoned him for damages. He was fined very heavily. “Well done, publican,” the War Cry suggested. “This is an example.” Violence was always a possibility back then. Two years later, in the War Cry’s 8 August 1885 edition, a drunk man on horseback snatched a flaming torch out of the hands of a Sale Salvationist and “tried to burn the flag”… The horse trod on the foot of the flagbearer, who fell to the ground to protect the flag. Lieut Knight declared that in spite of “the enemy, The Salvation Army is marching along with banner and song” flying high. Early-day Salvos prepare to hold an open-air meeting. There was an enthusiasm – a driving fire – that carried people in an age before automobiles and reliable public transport. When not everyone could afford a horse or coach fare, or even one of those newfangled bicycles, people walked impressive distances to be part of the Salvos’ mission and ministry. Captain C. Wright reported that a man walked 42 miles (“and then was in the marches”) and that a woman walked 18 miles “along a lonely road, having no fear ... to be at our meeting” at Dunolly (Vic.). In the same issue, a woman at a Rescued Sisters Home testified that life was so bleak she’d attempted suicide twice – “once by the Yarra [river], once by laudanum” [an alcoholic tincture of opium then available as pain relief and a cough suppressant]. The same woman later fell in with the Salvos and was converted. Captain Rash added a plea, on behalf of the home, for “women’s clothing of all descriptions … a good chest of tea, a bag of sugar, or anything you can send.” Also, the Prison Gate Brigade reported supplying “719 meals and 231 beds” to “the poor that we have always with us ... Lord help us to do them good!” A cloth patch that early-day Salvationists wore. While the brigade was feeding and housing those in need, the Drunkards’ Brigade at Prahran Corps (Vic.) was bombarding “hotels … on the look-out for any poor drunkard that may be lying about”. Salvationists in those days would literally pick people up off the streets and from the gutters, hoist them into The Salvation Army’s ambulances, and take them to a safe place where they wouldn’t be run over by wagons, trampled by horses, or robbed while comatose. The brigades were not always well received. One man with a drinking problem, hailing “from the respectable class”, was reported to have assaulted a Salvo who was trying to help him (as the War Cry charitably suggested, “he wanted to feel our comrade’s bumps with his walking stick”). An image depicting a Salvationist reaching out to ‘poor fallen sisters’ in the late 1800s. Salvos from Maldon Corps (Vic.) visited a nearby “Chinese camp” and reported seeing “some of our poor fallen sisters” (white women engaged in sex work in the camp). The Salvos sang and prayed, and “one sister went to them and tried to persuade them to give up their evil ways, but she could not induce them to do so”. Encounters we would now describe as ‘cold’ were initiated with warm hearts; relationships were built despite public opinion, opposing worldviews and critical expectations. We made compassionate responses to pain – that was the way of the Salvos. To this day, it remains a valid and often welcomed Salvation Army response.

For all our advances, all our improved intelligence and, indeed, responses to overdose, people keep dying, writes SJ Finn. BY SJ FINN In August 2001, when International Overdose Awareness Day was founded, the world was a simpler place. But, it didn’t mean people weren’t losing their lives to overdose. Just the opposite. In 1999 alone, over a thousand people died in Australia from opiate use. That’s 3 people a day. Back then, while the physiology regarding overdoses was clear, no one was sure what was behind such a high rate of fatalities. The heroin was strong and cheap, but why? It was later we realised Myanmar’s military junta had done a deal with a drug king-pin some years earlier, and, as a result, warehouses that had been stockpiling heroin were hurriedly emptied. Australia was the destination for these drugs. This type of occurrence is no longer so hard to uncover. We have more information and, through our needle and syringe programs, better systems to warn the unsuspecting substance user about toxicity and contamination. But things aren’t going well. Things aren’t right. For all our advances, all our improved intelligence and, indeed, responses to overdose, people keep dying. The current data (2024 statistics) makes it starkly clear. In Australia, seven people die from overdose every day. That’s a person every 3.5 hours. More than double the rate at the height of the heroin glut in 1999 and 2000. For the 25th time, on 31 August, people around the world will be raising their voices as one to lower the overdose death toll. Governments should listen, because hard decisions regarding the redistribution of funds need to be made. Heavily weighted law and order responses are not working. And to rethink our approach begins with understanding the loss people experience when a loved-one passes away in this sudden and largely avoidable manner. It has been a windy road which led me to starting Overdose Awareness Day in 2001, and has kept me campaigning for this issue for the past 25 years. In the 1980s as a young social worker, a mother sought counselling with me because the rural town she lived in had turned against her after her child died of overdose. The impact of the shame she felt complicated her grief. The effect judgment from others had on her has always stayed with me. In the 1990s, as a family therapist working for The Royal Children’s Hospital, I saw families struggling because of interactions their children were having with drugs and the threat, sometimes realised, of overdose. At the Salvos, where I have worked since 1998 and still do today, I have met people who live with that threat constantly. These folk have often lost partners and friends, and, back in 2001, I saw they’d never been given the opportunity to mourn their loved-ones free from shame. This I felt was a risk factor in-and-of-itself. Of course, lowering the rate of fatalities is also about raising awareness. Now, one of the largest groups of people suffering overdose death are older people, who die from taking prescription opioids, and or benzodiazepines. Even in 2001, I was arguing there was no line between legal and illegal analgesics, and here we are, in living proof of the fact. Why then, when we have more knowledge about why, when we are finally able to access the overdose reversal drug, Naloxone, aren’t we seeing the rates of death come down? The answer lies in the uneven way funding is distributed. Two-thirds of the pie goes to law enforcement. The other third is largely shared between advertising-style campaigns that are often mis-framed and closer to scare campaigns, and treatment services, of which there are not nearly enough. Less than two percent of funding goes to the Harm Reduction sector, the people trying to keep people who use drugs alive, and as much as possible, free from harm. Don’t get me wrong, there have been advances in this last quarter century. The government has wisely decided to get behind the provision of Naloxone, and everyone in the using community – not to mention their families and friends – thanks them for it. In June this year, 20 machines dispensing Naloxone were positioned around locations in metropolitan and regional Victoria. But without other measures – the introduction of a safe supply, an increase in drug testing sites, an increase in injecting rooms – we will continue to fall short and fail society at large. So, after 25 years of campaigning, it seems we’re looking at 25 years more. Because until all those options for what we know would lower the risk of overdose have been implemented, those who campaign on a day that acknowledges the great loss experienced when someone dies of overdose will fight on. With the number of fatalities nudging double the road toll, the stakes are too high not to. Testimony to its need, the day has grown from a small gathering in the backyard of The Salvation Army Crisis Centre in metropolitan Melbourne to a far-reaching international event. For this, I am grateful. But, ironically, my wish is for the day not to be necessary at all. SJ Finn is a Needle Syringe Program Worker at The Salvation Army, a creative writer and the founder of International Overdose Awareness Day.