King Henry VIII

In Vietnam, we purchased a copy of the TV series, The Tudors, chronicling the tumultuous reign of King Henry VIII, founder of the Church of England.  Having previously read Wolf Hall, the Booker Prize-winning historical novel of the King’s early reign, told through the eyes of the famous regal advisor Thomas Cromwell, I watched the series with special interest.  We spent many a night watching the King work his way through his many wives, and we gained a deeper appreciation of the founding of the Church of England.

Today, we attended the local Anglican church on Thursday Island, drawn to reports of its spirited singing.  Last week’s mass at the small Catholic Church, while noteworthy for the priest’s  courageous sermon challenging the conditions at the nearby Australian detention center for political refugees, contained little in the way of singing, so we thought we’d give the Anglicans a chance.  Here, the Catholics mostly attract the descendents of the early Portuguese divers that came for the pearl diving; the Anglicans, arriving with the London Missionary Society in the late 1800s, seem to attract the native Torres Strait islanders.  The relations between the two churches are more than cordial, a far cry from the enmity and hostility in the King's time, and, even dare I say, when the competing missionaries arrived on these shores.

The church was built around the time of a major tragedy in the Torres Strait – the sinking of the ship Quetta, and thus the church is named the All Souls St. Bartholomew Quetta Memorial Church.  A number of the ship’s relics, including life preservers and coral-encrusted portholes, are displayed inside the church.  Arriving early, we turned to the Book of Prayer, and, in the back, in King Henry's English, were listed the articles of faith of the Anglican church, reproduced as originally drafted and initially approved by the King, “his” bishops, and his council.  I was struck by one of the Articles in particular:

It is not necessary that Traditions and Ceremonies be in all places one, or utterly like; for at all times they have been divers, and may be changed according to the diversity of countries, times, and men's manners, so that nothing be ordained against God's Word.

As in many of the island churches we’ve visited during our trans-Pacific, this acknowledgement of the “divers Traditions and Ceremonies” manifested itself in the choice of musical instruments and songs.   We noticed several long drums laid out on the floor between the pews, each gaily painted and with a stretched crocodile skin as a drumhead.  Once Mass began, several of the older women began to beat the drums, as the congregation, led also by the elderly women, filled the church with strong, sharp voices.

Here, the songs were largely sung in Creole, the common language across the many island dialects of the Torres Straits.  The Bishop took his role as leader of his church seriously, and we were quickly swept up in the obvious joy and passion of these islanders.  I took the liberty of discreetly filming one of the songs, included below.

Later, we enjoyed another post-church session by Seaman Dan, and Jennifer remarked how the singing at church reminded her of the music at the Comanche reunions she used to attend during her summer childhoods in Walters, Oklahoma.  On her father’s side, Jennifer descended from Cherokee forefathers and mothers, and these summer reunions retain a special place in her memories.  In fact, there seem to be many parallels between the natives that settled America and the Pacific Islanders in their love of music as well as their cultural and spiritual attitudes.  Perhaps anyone who takes a stewardship – rather than ownership -- view of the land adopts a set of consistent values and behaviors. 

We've enjoyed our time here immensely; it has served as a useful antidote to the city-based attitudes of Cairns, where it seemed the magic of our Pacific crossing was slowly wearing off, a victim of the relentless commercialism, consumerism, and capitalism of city life in any developed country.  In a few days we leave for Indonesia, a country of 17,000+ islands, 700+ languages, and, for us, exposure to Islam.  I wonder if and how music plays a role in that "divers" country's dominant religion?  

(Surely King Henry VIII would have been at home in a religion that condones multiple wives ... as long as the man can afford more them ...  not an issue with the King!)