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Raising mental health awareness and breaking the associated stigma prompted Caloundra Corps to address the issue over an eight-week course recently. “I think this was a great growing-up process for individuals and for the corps,” said Aux-Lieut Karen Clark, one of the corps officers at Caloundra. “If the church can’t be a safe place, where else can people have these conversations?” During April and May, the corps ran the Sanctuary Course, gave sermons exploring how biblical characters with mental health challenges responded and provided follow-up resources for their regular life groups. About 50 community and corps members participated in the weekly Sanctuary Course sessions. According to the Sanctuary website, “Sanctuary’s resources integrate theological, psychological, and lived experience perspectives. They are developed with the conviction that informed and empathetic conversations about mental health challenges can transform communities of faith.” The course is free, has multiple engaging resources and combines mental health professionals, theologians and people with lived experience sharing their perspectives. The whole course is centred around Psalm 42. “We were so encouraged by the feedback from participants,” Karen said. According to survey comments at the conclusion of the course, some people said they wished they had done the course years ago, that they learnt so much about themselves, and they didn’t realise how important and easy it was to discuss mental health. They also realised that people might look like they are okay but not know how much some of them were struggling. For people interested in the Sanctuary Course content and approach, access the following link: https://sanctuarymentalhealth.org/sanctuary-course – Cliff Worthing

The Grove Academy early childhood centre in Oatley, southern Sydney, has made a valuable contribution to the work of the local Shire Salvos through a charity food and clothing drive. “At Grove Academy, we pride ourselves on our community involvement,” said Kim Tvrtkovic, Educator and Community Coordinator at the centre.” The children have been learning about being kind friends and helping others, and we wanted to extend that by seeing how we could help the community. “We thought of partnering with the Salvos since you guys have supported the community for the last 100 or more years!” Children at the centre wanted to donate food for other kids who didn’t have as much as they did – “We are helping hearts to grow bigger,” one child said. Shire Salvos will distribute the donated food items through its Miranda food relief and assistance centre, where more and more families are presenting and needing support due to economic hardship. “This generous donation will help us to help others,” said Shire Salvos Miranda Community Coordinator Moira Guthrie. “We love to partner with local organisations and businesses because it allows for people who have the capacity to give to those who are in need. This generosity warms the hearts of both the giver and those receiving.” Grove Academy Director Olivia Habib stressed the importance of teaching values like compassion and generosity to children from a young age: “People say the first five years of life are the most important … embedding practices of gratitude and giving back will be something they can carry with them for the rest of their lives and impacts the way they view the world from a very young age.” – Lauren Martin

When my children were born, my wife and I were keen to give them biblical names, and Hannah and Benjamin seemed to fit just right. We could have gone considerably worse. In the book of Isaiah, the prophet is told by God to name his son Mahershalalhashbaz, which just sort of trips off the tongue nicely. Or not. And then the Bible also mentions Zaphnathpaaneah and Tilgathpilneser and, of course, good old Chushanrishathaim. Imagine if the above four were the Gospel writers – it’s so much easier now just saying Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. When studying for ministry, I recall a much older Salvation Army officer saying, “Just say it confidently; no one will ever know.” And so I boldly say, “Today’s reading is from Hab-a-kkuk, not Hab-a-kook or Ha-backick or Have-a-cake. Is my pronunciation right? No idea. But I say it boldly and move on and no one blinks. I’m also delighted that we worship ‘God’, not Kedorlaomer (Genesis 14:1) and that his son was named ‘Jesus’, not Mardukbaladan (Isaiah 39:1), and I say that with respect to all the Mardukbalandans who may be reading this. Mind you, would you rather have an odd name with a nice meaning (for example, Habakkuk means ‘embrace’) or a nice name with a not-so-nice meaning? Cameron means ‘crooked nose’. Claudia means ‘crippled’. Kennedy means ‘odd-shaped head’. Calvin means ‘bald’. Portia means ‘pig’. Courtney means ‘small nose’. I once worked in a program where some of our clients had personality disorders or intellectual disabilities or were constantly drug affected. One young man didn’t like his name and wanted to change it. His first name was Thomas, and his surname was something like Katziioanou – and he was tired of spelling it out to people. He came in one day and said he’d finally done it; he’d legally changed his name. I asked what he’d changed it to, and he smiled and said: “Thomas Thomas”. I’m guessing I looked a bit stunned, so he said: “It’s easy to remember. It’s easy to do my signature. It’s easy for everyone to spell. It’s perfect!” I said, “So do you want people to just call you Tom Tom for short?’ He looked confused, “Oh, I didn’t think of that,” he said. Someone really should have gone with him to get his name changed. The Bible suggests that in eternity we’ll be given a new name (Revelation 2:17) known only to God. Which will make it really hard for anyone who wants to phone or text me. I hope it’s a nice name and not something like Mahershalalhashbaz or, even worse, a series of squeaks, clicks and ee-aw sounds that only God can pronounce. Do you know what your name means? I hope you’ve got a name that means ‘beautiful’ or ‘brave’ or ‘wise one’ or ‘she who knows how to unpick knots’ or something else wonderful. God just calls me ‘friend’ or ‘my child’, and I’m pretty happy with that. – Major Mal Davies and his wife Major Tracey are the Corps Officers at Adelaide City Salvos

Today, Salvos Online introduces a new weekly column called ‘Mal on Monday’, where Major Mal Davies looks at the lighter side of Army life. During his 20 years as a Salvation Army officer, Mal has experienced the highs and lows of officership and also the humour and laughter that often comes with it. So, get your week off to a positive start each Monday morning with a cuppa and a giggle courtesy of Major Mal. Freddy was a rough sleeper who engaged with a corps I led and became a regular user of our services, as well as – God bless him – attending our Sunday morning meetings. He had a see-sawing relationship with life; some days we’d get happy Freddy, and some days we’d get cranky Freddy, generally for good reason. He was a large man with a large beard and large hands that gave a vice-like grip to his handshake. As Freddy became more familiar with the place, he also became more emotionally attached and would often shed a tear as he spoke of how we’d positively impacted his life. He said things like, ‘I don’t know where I’d be without you,’ and ‘You are the only ones who look out for me’. Freddy could also have done with a regular bath and washed his clothes. And I say that in love, having spent a lot of time sitting alongside Freddy and chatting with him about life. Then – because of his appreciation for us and some emotional fragility – he took to hugging me. One minute he’d be talking and shaking hands, the next minute he’d pulled me in and was giving me a bear hug, often while crying on my shoulder. When he did that, I’m almost certain I could hear small animals moving around in his beard. Perhaps a chirping sound. Definitely small eyes looking at me. That beard was an ecosystem unto itself, and when it brushed my face, I could sense tiny creatures moving ‘house’ to my beard. So, should I have shrugged the hug? At first, I considered it, but then I thought, ‘No, the man needs a shoulder to cry on; if it’s not your local pastor, who else is it going to be?’ Hugging at church was severely impacted by the pandemic years and has had a polarising effect on people; some folks just don’t hug anymore, while others hug more because they missed being with people so much. Generally speaking, apart from carefully chosen individuals, I’m not a hugger. When dear old widower Mrs Gladstone hugs me after the Sunday meeting slightly too tightly and slightly too long, I tend to go tree-like rather than engage her in some bizarre wrestling manoeuvre. And while I’m aware she’s simply saying hello and not trying to roleplay a passage from Song of Solomon, nevertheless, I feel slightly awkward – which is my issue, not hers. Maybe we need a ‘hugging protocol code’ for church attenders, possibly including a badge folks can wear that either says, ‘Free hugs’ or ‘Cursed are all ye who enter here’. Something that makes it clear if you’re a hugger or not. As for Freddy-type huggers, beware men (or women, no discrimination here) with large unwashed beards. Sharing Christian greetings is one thing; sharing unknown species of insects is quite another. Note: Names and identifying details have been changed to protect the innocent and because, often, I can’t remember! – Major Mal Davies and his wife Major Tracey are the Corps Officers at Adelaide City Salvos

Salvos Online has a new weekly column called ‘Mal on Monday’, where Major Mal Davies looks at the lighter side of Army life. During his 20 years as a Salvation Army officer, Mal has experienced the highs and lows of officership and also the humour and laughter that often comes with it. So, get your week off to a positive start each Monday morning with a cuppa and a giggle courtesy of Major Mal. Salvation Army mission comes in many different forms and, many years ago now, I had the opportunity to lead a chapel service in one of our accommodation programs, this one for men who were otherwise homeless or sleeping rough. The officer in charge asked if I’d like to lead the chapel service the following week, and I agreed to do so. He said that many of the men were new to faith – or still finding their way towards faith – and were unfamiliar with the Bible or Christian doctrine. So, the standard rule was that if anyone in attendance was uncertain about what was being said, they were allowed to put their hand up and ask for clarification. I thought this was a good rule to have. I prepared the service – a few songs, some prayer time and a 10-minute message – and was ready and raring to go when Wednesday arrived. After introductions and opening prayer, and some singing, it was time for the mini-sermon that was sure to bring seekers to their knees as well as glorify God and make Satan’s knees tremble. I began: “Today we’re going to look up a passage from Acts about the apostle Paul and the early Church.” Four hands went up. I thought, “Hello. I haven’t even got past the first sentence.” I then took them one by one. Q: “Was there an early church service? I thought this was the only church service on today.” A: “Ah, I see. No, by ‘early Church’ I meant way earlier, like 2000 years ago. The first church. The earliest church.” Q: “What’s an apostle?” A: “Hmm, an apostle was someone who told others about Jesus; someone who was a leader in that early Church I spoke of. Often, they’d travel to places and start new churches. Paul was an apostle.” Q: “What act?” A: “Sorry?” Q: “You said we were going to read from one of the acts, was it the first act, the second act ...” A: “Right. No, plays are written in acts; I was referring to a book in the Bible called Acts, which is sort of short for ‘the acts of the apostles’.” Q: “This is my first time at chapel.” A: “Lovely. Thanks for joining us.” Q: “Why are you looking up a passage?” A: “A ... what? ... looking up a ... sorry?” Q: “You said we were going to look up a passage.” A: “Oh! I see. I meant we’re going to find and then read a passage of text in the Bible.” Q: “Oh, okay. That’s a relief.” I decided to start again. “Right, so we’re going to find some text in the Bible, set at the very beginnings of the Christian Church, that tells us about a follower of Jesus named Paul. All clear?” One hand went up. I responded (too loudly and too quickly), “Yes, what is it now?” “Can I go to the toilet?” – Major Mal Davies and his wife Major Tracey are the Corps Officers at Adelaide City Salvos

The manipulation of language is, arguably, done best by politicians and used car salesmen, but ministers of religion can be quite adept at it too. In decades gone by, many preachers loved basing a sermon on an acronym (‘This month is JULY, so let’s talk about how Jesus Utterly Loves You’) or alliteration (‘Today we’ll explore the power, passion, purity and persistence of Christ’). These sorts of sermons often drove me batty, bewildered, bored and bothered. I heard a lovely example of accidental yet amusing wordplay some years ago while listening to an address in an Army meeting. The speaker was talking about the ‘masks’ we wear to hide our true emotions or character; she referred to the facades or false fronts we put on to hide our true selves from others. She went on to say that, with time, these masks can build up and form something of a ‘crust’, where our genuine character is hidden below several layers of false fronts. So far, so good. Then it got weird. “We need to remove these crustaceans and break free to live in freedom and honesty and show our true selves.” Just a moment: crustaceans? Aren’t they, like, crabs and lobsters and yabbies and fishy things with shells? My phone (on silent) buzzed; a friend from two rows away was texting me: “Crustaceans???” She continued preaching. “These heavy crustaceans can weigh us down and limit our freedom.” My phone buzzes again; another friend from a few rows further away: “Well, I guess carrying a bag of crabs through life WOULD be sort of restricting.” I’m thinking, “We have visitors here today, please, Lord, make it stop.” But it didn’t. “We need to give our crustaceans to Jesus. He’ll take them for us.” I text both friends: “Did she just tell us to give Jesus crabs?” All three of us refused to look at each other, we knew that to make eye contact would lead to an eruption of laughter – not appropriate for while an altar call was being conducted. And when I say altar call, I mean, of course, a request for people to bring forward their lobsters to God. The sermon topic was important, and the intent was good – but it was all undone by repeated references to our supposed hardened exoskeletons. I’m sure some will say it was an honest mistake, and I (and others) shouldn’t have been distracted by it, and that may very well be true. However, the fact is: words mean things. I can’t talk to you about the Holy Goat (instead of ghost), and you just ignore it. Nor can I tell you about Mary and Arthur, Moses and the 10 amendments or Jesus and his disciplinarians, without simply confusing you. Jesus once said, “Let your yes mean yes and your no mean no” (Matthew 5:37 CEB), and I’m guessing he thought that way about other words too. – Major Mal Davies and his wife Major Tracey are the Corps Officers at Adelaide City Salvos

By KIRRALEE NICOLLE When I was growing up, I shaped my ideas of identity mostly on people I admired for their adventurous or courageous actions. I collected pictures of heroes while other children my age were collecting Pokémon cards. While some of that natural tendency set me on paths I am grateful to be still following, the actions of many of my heroes eventually left me baffled, confused and unpacking the remnants of what I had once believed. “Our limitations needn’t define who we are ...” Whenever I found a new person to admire, whether they were a sportsperson, a pastor or a professional in some other area, I found myself throwing away all my previous ideals to adopt every value and feature they held. Not to mention, I tried out some strange hairstyles and hobbies! This was destabilising, to say the least, and it made decision-making on any important topic a constantly changing arena. As I grew older, more and more people in my life betrayed or disappointed me. Again and again, I was lost in a whirlpool of ideas, grasping for new role models. Gradually and thankfully, as I watched my heroes fall, I came to a new realisation. Values and integrity In the Bible, Colossians chapter 3, verse 12 talks about how God’s people are to be clothed with “compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience”. Those words have a lot more to do with who we are than our career or what kind of car we drive. I grew to realise that identity is less about our roles in the world or level of privilege and more about our values and our integrity. What connects me with another person should not be about how many children we each have, what we do for work or how much money we have. “My identity is ... more about how I use what I am given to best fit into the world and make a difference where I can.” While we’ve spent our whole lives thinking such choices are within our control, in many ways they are not. Infertility is real. The cost of living is high. Sadly, in much of the world, factors such as where we come from, our skin colour, our gender and our health still affect the kind of work we can access and the kind of money we can make. This is not how it should be, and it is something to grieve and work to change. However, our limitations needn’t define who we are, and I have come to believe that how we work within our limitations and use our unique opportunities is key to our integrity. An unexpected outcome One thing I thought I would never do is have children. Most of the role models I looked up to were childless, and the way I planned to live my life did not involve family. I was determined to chase goals that would make such a lifestyle impossible. However, life brings unexpected trajectories, and one of those, a happy relationship and marriage, led to me having children. If I had chosen a different path, that would also be okay. But I had to confront my perceived limitations. I had to come to terms with the fact that not all women everywhere naturally love everything about children – me being one of them – but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy raising my kids to be responsible adults and seek to build meaningful relationships with them. As it turns out, I love being a parent! While I’m not likely to spend my spare time listening to parenting podcasts, shopping online for nursery decorations or reading books on sleep patterns – those things bore me to tears – I do love watching small people grasp new concepts and build their awareness of the world around them. I’ve come to realise that my identity is less about what I set out to do, and more about how I use what I am given to best fit into the world and make a difference where I can. While so many choices are out of our control, our character is something over which we have ultimate sway. I look forward to developing mine and surprising myself with who I can be.

By CLIFF WORTHING A tough start in life. Making a decision to thrive rather than survive. Getting help on the recovery journey. Arriving at a good place both physically and psychologically. This all sounds like a stereotypical recovery story, but every story has a unique perspective. Jordan’s journey encompasses a strong artistic element that is now showcased at Foster House, The Salvation Army’s Inner City Homelessness Service in Surry Hills, Sydney. Not only was Jordan commissioned to create a painting to welcome visitors to the Foster House reception area, but also present his other works for sale at the upcoming Inner-City Art Expo on 8 August. “Nobody taught me how to paint, but my older sister was an inspiration for me,” Jordan said. “We would tell each other how cool their work was.” Jordan now offers that inspiration to others through an art workshop he runs at a local refuge. “I knew I had potential,” Jordan said. “This is all coming together because I got my life together.” “A few years ago, I had no hope, but I made a decision to end the cycle and surrender to God ... It’s only gonna get better and better, with God by our side we can achieve such greatness.” While at Foster House, Jordan noticed that “the hallways were a bit bare and dull”. Thinking they could do with a bit of colour, Jordan suggested some artwork would provide a lift. Knowing his artistic interest, he was asked to create a painting for the lobby. Jordan said he worked on the lettering first, added The Salvation Army shield, and then painted around it. “I usually listen to music, and just enjoy doing whatever comes to my mind,” Jordan said. “I also like to create my own hip-hop music as another artistic outlet.” Jordan has transitioned out of Foster House, but maintains a connection there for support, and Street Media at Oasis Youth Network as a creative outlet. The Inner-City Art Expo in August at Foster House has garnered artistic works from The Salvation Army program participants, including regional services and Indigenous art. “We want to showcase people’s talents and create an opportunity for them to sell their work,” said Marnie Lamb, Foster House Case Manager, who has supported Jordan in his journey out of homelessness and championed his artistic endeavours. “The Art Expo will bring together the local community and highlight the artistic abilities of people at risk of or experiencing homelessness.” “A few years ago, I had no hope, but I made a decision to end the cycle and surrender to God,” Jordan said. “Good things are coming, and I know I can develop a career if I stick on the path of recovery and keep progressing every day with my creativity. “It’s only gonna get better and better, with God by our side we can achieve such greatness – it may take time, it may take everything you have but by staying faithful and consistent, nothing is impossible.”

“What an amazing time we had on Wednesday night at the Recovery Church Christmas in July celebration at our new venue at Merri-bek,” said Captain Melanie Cop, Recovery Church@Merri-bek Corps Officer, with Major Darren Aitken. “An incredible meal, brass band, carols, and a powerful testimony from Brian, a valued long-term member. It was wonderful to connect with new and long-term ‘friends like family’ and share the joy of community. Many thanks to all those who put so much effort into making it such a special evening.” Christmas in July has been a regular feature of the Recovery Church at Moonee Valley for many years. The congregation recently relocated and used the move to continue their much-loved tradition for their first meeting at Merri-bek. “Christmas in July has always been a celebration of community and the connection we have with each other,” said Melanie Cop. “The community members who join our celebration come from several of our social services, including Flagstaff Crisis Accommodation (men) and Bridgehaven Recovery Services (women). Chaplains from social centres also bring guests to Recovery Church. “Our volunteers and community members cook the donated meat each year and prepare the veggies. They’re also involved in the table decorations. I put out ideas and collect resource, but they lead it, they own it.” “Christmas in July is something special we celebrate together – another way of celebrating community together. It helps foster the relationships we have together and a way we can show our community how much we love, appreciate and care for them.” Melanie explained that, like a family holiday, Christmas in July is something the community members appreciate and look forward to each year. “It’s special, a small token of something they can be excited about. They can feel special, and we can spoil them. We really do appreciate them – it’s a beautiful community, they have each other’s backs. The community goes beyond the walls of the church –vthey get together, volunteer in other Salvos places, they support us with fundraising barbeques and the Red Shield appeal, support each other in their challenges, come alongside and care for and support each other – that’s what church is really all about. “Faith is central to everything we do – it’s foundational, living out our beliefs, loving our neighbour and not our religions.”

The Mayak (Lighthouse) Corps in Kyiv, Ukraine, is constantly busy helping locals and internally displaced people (IDPs) whose lives have been disrupted by Russia’s invasion. Many have seen their homes and livelihoods destroyed, their children uprooted and traumatised and their families separated. Many people have lost loved ones or have husbands, sons, fathers and friends fighting on the frontlines. Staff and volunteers receive, unload and distribute food, bedding and other essentials for the constant flow of IDPs – many of whom are fleeing their homes in the face of bombs and missiles. This Saturday, The Salvation Army will take clothing and shoes for both adults and children, as well as toys for the children, to an area that has been “under occupation for some time”. The team is very grateful to all those who have assisted in collecting, sorting and transporting these essential supplies, including other corps, volunteers, and IDPs as well. Corps programs also continue, including classes on basic Christianity.

By BARRY GITTINS One of the most enigmatic World War Two images from the Kokoda campaign depicts a wounded Australian soldier having his cigarette lit by Red Shield Representative Major Albert Moore. The Australian War Memorial notes that Major Moore was padre to the 2/14th Battalion, and the wounded Digger was Lieutenant Valentine G. Gardner, D Company, 2/14th Battalion. For better and worse, cigarettes were part of life for many fighting men. US General John Pershing was asked during World War One what was “needed to win the war”, and he replied, “tobacco as much as bullets.” Groups such as The Salvation Army, the YMCA and the Red Cross raised money to send and distribute “tobacco products, reading materials and other items” (such as coffee, tea, and playing cards) overseas in several countries. For Salvation Army personnel serving people in historical conflicts, the aim was to serve and comfort, not to chide soldiers by railing against tobacco and nicotine’s addictive, harmful properties. The Founder’s opinion It’s worth noting, however, that the Army has long made a public stand against smoking for much of its history. General William Booth, in 1888, decried tobacco “in any form, whether that of smoking, snuff-taking, or chewing”. He wrote that “eminent medical men say that smoking injures the brain and consequently the entire nervous system [and] the lungs, the stomach, the digestive organs generally and often injures the eyes”. The General also described smoking as “a shameful waste of money”, an “unnatural habit”, and an “unclean practice [that] corrupts the breath, poisons the atmosphere and makes its votary a nuisance in a small way to everybody about him”. That liberating tale was typical of Salvationists’ attitudes. In an 1898 edition of the War Cry, no less an Aussie luminary than Adjutant John Gore had testified that he’d been saved “in London 30 years ago, on 3 September 1868, from drink, tobacco and all sin”. It was typical of accounts of “victories over tobacco”. A local officer had testified about “complete deliverance from tobacco” in the 15 August 1903 issue of The Victory. That same year, the War Cry informed readers and advocated for a legislative bill “prohibiting the sale of tobacco to boys under 16 years” and ran a series of articles about the concerning links between tobacco and health. The 21 October 1905 War Cry relates that “a man who was so wedded to his pipe that he thought a divorce impossible suddenly resolved to give it up and worship God with clean lips. He did, and the money, which hitherto went up in smoke, was saved and expended in purchasing a corps flag, and the man himself carries it”. A 1916 feature article, ‘The Tobacco Evil’, by Lieut-Colonel Graham, preceded much editorialising against smoking in the 1920s. By the 1930s and 1940s, corps such as Lidcombe (Sydney) and Woonona (in Wollongong) were reporting stories about “tobacco destroyed” and “tobacco surrendered” at the mercy seat. By the 1950s, the War Cry was clearly describing tobacco as “a killer”, and The Salvation Army’s Junior Soldiers program even rolled out a ‘Certificate of Membership’ to ‘The Young Soldier Non-Smoking Club’ and invited the young people to sign it as a commitment. In 1976, the late Colonel Henry Gariepy wrote that as well as asking Salvationists to abstain from intoxicating liquors and other drugs, The Salvation Army added tobacco to the prescribed list of substances for Salvationists. The Salvation Army believes that ‘not using them’ is the only way to ensure people won’t be hurt by alcohol, tobacco and other drugs. Nevertheless, Salvos do not condemn people who use these substances. Salvationists and Salvation Army staff continue to work compassionately with those whose use of such substances has become harmful, supporting them to regain social, physical, mental, and spiritual health through a health-focused, harm-reduction approach in addiction treatment services.

By KIRRALEE NICOLLE While some have described it as the ‘wrong side of the tracks’, the suburb of Reservoir in the north of Melbourne is a colourful place. The community boasts a large LGBTIQA+ community and a very culturally diverse demographic which includes many Indigenous Australians. And amid this melting pot lies a small brick gem hidden away on a side street. The Reservoir Salvation Army Corps is a long, narrow building with a basketball ring attached to the rear. Upon entering the front door, I notice brightly painted walls with photos and posters about consent and respect and a low, overflowing bookcase to the right. A closer look shows a slew of titles by radically inclusive American Christian author, the late Rachel Held Evans. Held Evans focused her writing on reaching those typically disenfranchised from the church, once famously stating that “what makes the gospel offensive isn’t who it keeps out but who it lets in”. Well, I think. This should be interesting. “Who Reservoir Salvos is has shifted over the years, constantly just trying to reflect the needs of the local community,” corps officer Auxiliary Lieutenant Esther Atkins says. “And since we started [as corps officers] five years ago, our main goal has just been to provide a safe place for anyone, regardless of whatever their status is.” She says now that emphasis is reflected in welcoming those of all ages with mental health concerns, diverse gender and sexual identities and different cultural backgrounds. Many have also grown up in the church but are looking for a different experience from what they knew as a child. “So just across the board, a safe space,” Esther says. “We just had that as our foundation, and then sort of evolved from there what we need to do in order to create that space and meet the needs of those who come.” But being a safe space has its limitations. Esther and her husband, fellow Corps Officer Auxiliary-Lieutenant Matt Atkins, say this has been challenging. She says, at times, this has meant turning people away who may be a threat to vulnerable church attendees for any reason. “We’ve had to learn over the last couple of years that sometimes being a safe place means that not every single person is welcomed because they are not a safe person,” Esther says. “We’ve had to be really careful.” Another facet of this work is the difficulty of communicating across multiple cultural, economic and political divides. To bypass some of this challenge, the pair use pop culture to bridge gaps. One of their go-to shows is the wildly popular children’s cartoon Bluey. The show features a family of blue and red heelers who, together with their dog friends, explore themes including neurodivergence, fear, anger, relationship challenges, miscarriage and infertility, all packaged in a humorous and all-ages-appropriate seven-minute format. “Adults actually get a lot out of it,” Esther says. “Any adult, whether a parent or not, can watch an episode of Bluey and find something new in it. Some of our best preaches have come from Bluey about being brave, being vulnerable, trying new things [or] how you see the world.” The pair pepper the conversation with references to authors Glennon Doyle and Brené Brown and sitcoms Ted Lasso and Parks and Recreation. Having brought their interests, passions and personality to the role seems to be creating new pathways for the congregation at Reservoir to experience transformation. They explain how their son conducts an Acknowledgement of Country each service to honour the traditional owners of the land, the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation. One church member who has been attending for several years initially resisted the idea of Indigenous Australians being honoured but now pays her respects along with the rest of the group. Matt shares how some of his friends used to be in ministry roles but, for various reasons, stepped away from the church due to trauma and burnout. He says they feel comfortable attending Reservoir Salvos as it feels like a much safer environment than other church expressions. “We always are trauma-informed first and foremost,” Esther says. “Our first year in this position, we did the trauma-informed training, which has shaped a lot of what we do.” The couple calls the church services “chaotic, messy gatherings” where community connection happens. “It feels like such a privilege to be able to facilitate and then be a part of these moments where this is God at work,” Esther says. “Our goal is just to reconcile people to each other, to the community and then to God, and all of us are broken and struggling. And we believe God and faith is about that connection with each other.”