Friday, November 16, 2007

I was once asked to give the invocation for the Oregon senate. I was introduced and the senators duly bowed their heads. As I spoke astonished heads were slowly raised. It might have been the English accent, or perhaps it was the invocation, unlike others they were used to. I simply told the story of a politician who I thought was a good example for politicians anywhere, anytime.

I was once asked to give the invocation for the Oregon senate. I was introduced and the senators duly bowed their heads. As I spoke astonished heads were slowly raised. It might have been the English accent, or perhaps it was the invocation, unlike others they were used to. I simply told the story of a politician who I thought was a good example for politicians anywhere, anytime.

I spoke about William Wilberforce, sometimes called Britain’s Abraham Lincoln and the “George Washington of humanity” who led the parliamentary battle to end the slave trade. 2007 is the 200th anniversary of that achievement which British historian G.M.Trevelyan called “one of the turning events in the history of the world.”

I was asked to give the invocation because an Australian political figure, Kim Beazley, Sr., was my house guest and he had been invited to speak. He was the father of a recent Leader of the Opposition. His words were probably even more surprising to the senators than mine. He took as his text the words of the Prophet Micah: “What doth the Lord require of you but to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with your God.”
He went on to outline how his people had done none of those things, but had behaved cruelly, lived selfishly and walked arrogantly, particularly in the treatment of the Aboriginal people. He described how he had devoted his political life to their cause. Like Wilberforce, Beazley may have sacrificed the chance to be prime minister in making the just treatment of Aboriginal Australians a priority of his parliamentary career.

Beazley has just died at the age of 90. Three former Australian prime ministers were among mourners at his State Funeral. All obituaries paid tribute to his work for Aborigine rights.

When Beazley, a teacher and university tutor, entered Australia’s Federal Parliament in 1945 at the age of 27 he was the youngest member and eventually became one of the longest serving members. He knew poverty as a child and had to attend primary school without shoes. In 1953 his life was reordered by a long stay at the Caux conference center in Switzerland. “I had to admit,” he said, “that what I saw at Caux was far more significant for the peace and sanity of the world than anything being done at that time in Australian politics.” It gave him, according to one obituary, “a personal compass of four tests against which any idea or action should be measured: is it honest, pure, unselfish, loving. If the tests weren’t passed, it hadn’t come from God.” A committed Christian, it was in Caux that he commenced what became a life-long habit of spending time in silence each morning to seek guidance from the Holy Spirit – an experience which profoundly affected his life and political career. These times of silent searching gave rise to his conviction to work for “the rehabilitation of the Australian Aboriginal race.”

For twenty-three years Beazley was in the political opposition; yet it was from this position that he achieved great gains for the country. He made the first speech on Aboriginal land rights in the House of Representatives and was a member of the parliamentary committee whose report led to the 1967 referendum giving full citizenship to Aborigines. Later he advised native Americans and inuits on land rights.

On becoming eventually minister for education one of his first acts was to arrange for Aboriginal children to be taught in their own languages in primary school. With his colleagues he also set in motion initiatives that led to Aborigines owning an area of land larger than Great Britain.

When awarded an honorary doctorate by Australian National University, the citation pointed out that his two great achievements – the healing of the ulcer of sectarian bitterness as minister for education and the enhancement of the dignity of the Aborigine people – came because he had worked irrespective of political party gain.

According to an obituary in The Guardian, “In debate and in his dealings with people Beazley had what in the present-day parliamentary climate would be regarded as a rare fault, the desire to never hurt others personally.”

On the website of the Australian Christian Lobby (ACL) he is described as ”a political rarity who put his religion and moral beliefs before his political interests.” It quotes veteran political writer Mungo MacCallum who called him “a towering and intimidating figure with something of the style of an old Testament prophet.” ACL, echoing Beazley’s words about mercy in Oregon, quoted his own expressed guiding principle: “The thoughts of God, given primacy in the life of a man, bring to the innermost motives the virtue of mercy, and with it the cure for hatred that can turn the tide of history. This is the essence of intelligent statesmanship.”

This article appeared first on www.spiritrestoration.org