scholarly journals Speculations from 1850: being some thoughts on Rangiātea and the House of Tāmihana Te Rauparaha

2021 ◽  
Vol 9 ◽  
pp. 94-105
Author(s):  
Peter Wood

In March, 1852, the Wellington Independent reported its satisfaction at the sight of a drawing of the interior of Otaki Church, by Mr. C. D. Barraud. It declared the drawing a faithful representation of the church and its congregation that had been executed with "that taste and excellence we are led to expect from the pencil of so able an artist" ('[Untitled]" p 3). It concluded that the print would soon to be published - "in colours" – as it would make a beautiful, interesting and "novel" picture. This claim was added to a few days later in the New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian. Without irony they described the theologically themed depiction as being "spirited" as well as graphic. They go on to claim the "Native Church at Otaki" as one of the "lions" of the "settlement". Yet, for all that initial eagerness, Rangiātea would not go on to become a popular destination, and it has remained largely a picture of architecture. Indeed, even scholarly interest in it as an object of architecture does not appear in depth until the doctoral research of Sarah Treadwell, in the 1990s, who located the architectural significance of Rangiātea in a dialogue with the spatial and cultural patterns of the traditional Māori meeting house. In 2008 Treadwell reflected upon her PhD work with the admission that, in hindsight, her argument suffered the same kind of representational stability we can find in Barraud's rendition. The significance of Rangiātea as the singularly outstanding example of Māori building of the 1850s is uncontested, but Treadwell suggests that what we know and mean by historic "significance" – in his case history's preference for clear lines of origin and influence – are not to be depended upon as a stable discourse. I take that as an invitation to speculate on aspects of Rangiātea's influence and significance with a particular focus on a near neighbour in Ōtaki, the house of Tāmihana Te Rauparaha.

2019 ◽  
Vol 26 (2) ◽  
pp. 7-27
Author(s):  
Alexander Forsyth

This article focusses on the formation and delivery of training and support for pioneer ministry in the Church of Scotland, by (i) reflecting on recent thinking on the place of theological education in enabling missional vocation; and (ii) presenting three case studies of approaches taken by denominations (in the Netherlands, Germany and Aotearoa New Zealand) which share a similar historical tradition with the Church of Scotland and which have seen similar trajectories of decline.


2021 ◽  
Vol 17 (1) ◽  
Author(s):  
Nicholas Huntington

In Aotearoa New Zealand, as elsewhere, the evidence-based policy movement has been one of the most visible recent influences on how policies are described, discussed and debated. It is now commonly taken for granted that good policy work involves using evidence, and that it is important to increase the influence of data and research uptake during policy development. Promoting evidence-based policy has even been used as the raison d’être for the founding of a political party. However, the voices and perspectives of practitioners themselves are often missing from conversations about evidence’s role in policy work. Drawing on my doctoral research, this article presents three stances that frame how policy workers approach evidence in their practice.


2021 ◽  
Author(s):  
◽  
James E Taylor

<p>In the early 1890s Harry Atkinson, the subject of this thesis, travelled to England and spent a year as foundation secretary of the Manchester and Salford Labour Church. In Manchester Atkinson worked closely with the Churchʼs founder John Trevor, took part in Labour Church services and worked with a variety of British socialist intellectuals and activists including Ben Tillett, Edward Carpenter and Robert Blatchford. Atkinson returned to New Zealand in late 1893 and three years later founded the Socialist Church in Christchurch. This was not a Church in the traditional sense—rather, it was a site for the debate, discussion and dissemination of radical and socialist literature and ideas, and a platform for political agitation and social reform. Its creed was to ‘promot[e] a fellowship amongst those working for the organisation of Society on a basis of Brotherhood and Equality’. Members of the Church included Jack McCullough, James and Elizabeth McCombs and Jim Thorn. The critical, yet downplayed, role that Atkinson played working behind the scenes as an important mentor and conduit in the emergent socialist subculture in Christchurch from 1896 to 1905 has been for the most part unexplored in New Zealand labour historiography. This thesis addresses this imbalance and examines the intellectual and associational activity of Harry Atkinson during the period 1890 to 1905 and reconsiders the work and key concerns of the Christchurch Socialist Church. It argues that the form of ethical socialism Atkinson experienced in Manchester, and later promulgated through the Socialist Church, has been mischaraterised as vague or, inaccurately, Christian Socialist. By situating Atkinson’s beliefs and activities within a wider transnational context of 1890s ‘New Life’ socialism, we can see his ideas and work as part of a broader ‘world of labour’, shaped by multi-directional flows and contacts. The varied networks through which Atkinson was exposed to books and ideas are illustrated and the thesis attempts to trace the diversity of his, and others, associational activity. It suggests that the colonial New Zealand socialism of the 1890s was not ‘without doctrine’, and that individuals engaged in richer intellectual and associational lives than is often acknowledged. However, it is shown that Atkinson and members of the Church, though inspired by foreign or overseas experiences, ideas and literature, focused primarily on local issues. These are also surveyed and include agitation for municipal government, female equality and the radical reform of democratic institutions. It is argued that a reconsideration of the lived experience of Atkinson and his wider circle provides a lens to investigate some important aspects of colonial New Zealand radicalism and socialism, outside the usual foci of trade unions, the workplace and formal labour politics.</p>


2013 ◽  
Vol 49 ◽  
pp. 330-364 ◽  
Author(s):  
David W. Bebbington

‘From some modern perspectives’, wrote James Belich, a leading historian of New Zealand, in 1996, ‘the evangelicals are hard to like. They dressed like crows; seemed joyless, humourless and sometimes hypocritical; [and] they embalmed the evidence poor historians need to read in tedious preaching’. Similar views have often been expressed in the historiography of Evangelical Protestantism, the subject of this essay. It will cover such disapproving appraisals of the Evangelical past, but because a high proportion of the writing about the movement was by insiders it will have more to say about studies by Evangelicals of their own history. Evangelicals are taken to be those who have placed particular stress on the value of the Bible, the doctrine of the cross, an experience of conversion and a responsibility for activism. They were to be found in the Church of England and its sister provinces of the Anglican communion, forming an Evangelical party that rivalled the high church and broad church tendencies, and also in the denominations that stemmed from Nonconformity in England and Wales, as well as in the Protestant churches of Scotland. Evangelicals were strong, often overwhelmingly so, within Methodism and Congregationalism and among the Baptists and the Presbyterians. Some bodies that arose later on, including the (so-called Plymouth) Brethren, the Churches of Christ and the Pentecostals (the last two primarily American in origin), joined the Evangelical coalition.


Author(s):  
Lizette Larson-Miller

Christian rites for reconciliation and healing are intimately related to one another in that individuals and communities are healed and made whole through divine action In ecclesial rites, this divine response is in cooperation with prayer and ritual that operate within understandings of health and salvation for the whole person, inclusive of spiritual, physical, emotional, mental, and social healing. The historical rites and rituals of the church have undergone tremendous changes throughout history, reflecting differences in what it is that was desired and prayed for, and whether the ritual work was to reincorporate a member back into the church or into health and wholeness. The various ritual processes emerged from the intersection of these theological intentions with scripture and scriptural interpretation, with cultural patterns established or emerging, with geographical availability of physical elements and climate possibilities, and with other religious systems as well as from political and population shifts linked to all of these aspects. Rites of reconciliation were ritual responses to theological assumptions about the free will of humans, human nature and sin, the love of God, and the authority of the church as the body of Christ to challenge members when their words and actions were counter to the unity of the community and the teaching articulated by the appointed leaders. Rites of healing were ritualized acts of the prayer of faith, imitating one of the primary ministries of Jesus himself in healing people into the fullness of life, proclaiming healing as sign and symbol of the reign of God, and assuring all the members that “the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up” (James 5:14). Both of these rites, while ritually evolving as theologies and contexts changed, were always concerned with the reconciliation and healing of individuals to themselves, as well as reconciliation and healing in relationship to their communities and to their God. Of these three constituencies—God, community, oneself—one aspect or another would often take precedence in a particular time period, giving a discernable emphasis to the rites in their historical contexts. This tripartite emphasis was met with other factors that shifted historically, such as who may receive these rites, who may administer the rites, and the relationship to the church and to God as perceived by different voices. All of these factors shape the rites of reconciliation and healing over the centuries of Christian practice, contributing to the diverse practices found in Christianity today.


2018 ◽  
Vol 24 (2) ◽  
pp. 39-55 ◽  
Author(s):  
Rebecca Jane McLaughlan

Do contemporary practices of attribution go far enough in acknowledging the contribution that others make to our work, particularly when they speak from the archive? The autobiographical fiction Faces in the Water (1961) from acclaimed author Janet Frame (1924-2004) draws on her experiences of residing in various New Zealand mental hospitals between 1945 and 1953. It is a rare and comprehensive account of the patient experience of these institutions that provided a critical lens for my doctoral research. Perhaps more importantly, through this text Frame taught me how difficult histories should be written, about the ambiguities we must accept and the value adjustments to be made in order to make sense of confounding inhumanity. Nowhere within my dissertation is the depth of this contribution acknowledged; a position developed out of respect for her family’s active opposition to the ‘patronising’ and ‘pathologising discourse’ that continues to haunt contemporary receptions of Frame’s work. Within this paper I employ autoethnography to make explicit the process of working through a question that haunted me well beyond the completion of my doctoral research: whether contemporary practices of citation and acknowledgement are sufficient to value research contributions from beyond the grave. I will examine whether Frame’s contribution is commensurate with contemporary qualifications for co-authorship and the burdens of academic practice that act to suppress these conversations.


1953 ◽  
Vol 8 (22) ◽  
pp. 502-521 ◽  

Charles Kellaway was born on 16 January 1889, in the parsonage attached to the pro-Cathedral of St James, Melbourne (Victoria), where his father was then curate to the Dean, Hussey Burgh Macartney. The father, Alfred Charles Kellaway, had been born at Swanage, Dorset, in 1856, of parents who came from Lulworth; but on his seventh birthday, 23 September 1863, his mother had embarked with him for Australia, whither his father had apparently preceded them, to start anew as a farmer in Victoria. The venture cannot have prospered greatly, since Alfred Kellaway, the father of Charles, became a teacher in the State Education Department and thus supported himself through his University course, graduating with honours in history and political economy, before he was ordained and entered upon his main career in the Church. After holding the curacy above mentioned he became Vicar of All Saints Church, Northcote—a parish in the Melbourne suburbs. His wife, Anne Carrick Roberts, Charles Kellaway’s mother, had been born at Longford, Tasmania, in 1854. Her parents had emigrated first to New Zealand, from there to Tasmania, where her father’s elder brother was a well-known solicitor in Hobart, and finally, in 1870, to Melbourne. Her father, Richard Roberts, was the younger son of a Welsh anglican clergyman, and had married Frances Halliley, from whom Charles inherited not only his second name, but also his only ancestral link with the natural sciences; for she was the daughter of a north-country manufacturer who had had an interest in chemistry, and had been a friend of John Dalton. Schooling and University in Melbourne Charles Kellaway was the eldest son and second child in a family of five— three sons and two daughters. He spoke in after years with affectionate gratitude of the puritan atmosphere of his upbringing in the parsonage, and of the self-sacrifice accepted by his parents for the education of their family—secondary schooling for all five, followed by a university course for four of them; an heroic achievement, indeed, even in those days, on a clerical stipend of never much more than £300 a year!


Author(s):  
Kate Tilson

Summary Medical missionary Samuel Hayward Ford arrived in New Zealand’s Bay of Islands in the late 1830s, a few years before the formal colonisation of the country. His letters and medical reports to the Committee of the Church Missionary Society revealed the complicated and malleable nature of medicine in the cross-cultural encounter. Through close study of Ford’s writings, this article argues that medicine worked to transform and interweave Māori and missionary worlds in precolonial New Zealand. Experiencing the spread of disease in the Bay of Islands, Ford practised and was influenced by evangelical humanitarianism, and he was also entangled in the politics of empire. More than this, his medicine exposed the missionary objective to transform Māori society, and it showcased not just cultural differences regarding medical knowledge but also the exchange of ideas and treatments between Māori and the missionaries.


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