Hospice’s founder will be greatly missed by many
IADMIT to reading Phillip Adams’ stuff in the Weekend Australian Magazine. One of the great merits of this country is our freedom to read a range of print and online newspapers. Luckily, we don’t have to agree with all that we might read.
Mr Etwell told me years ago I could write about whatever I liked as long as I didn’t libel anyone. So I shall say nothing about most of the opinions Mr Adams commits to paper. I rarely agree with what he writes but he won’t lose sleep over that.
He’s a brilliant pro and just occasionally I can’t help admiring his writing. Last Saturday, under the heading The bright side of death, he once again told his readers about his well-known disbelief in anything implying an existence of God or an eternal life.
He’s obviously much more certain about such things than I am, or want to be. He does, though, write provocatively and often with great humour.
Humour, he says, comes from knowing about death, and is the best way to deal with it. If we didn’t die, he points out, (quote) “the world would be more crowded and the traffic even worse”. Humans, he claims, seem alone in their awareness of personal mortality and, in exchange, we have been given as compensation (quote) “the
I’ve disagreed with her, heatedly, gently and with good humour about many things to do with dogma, doctrine and hocus-pocus.
wonder of existence and the joys of sight, scent, touch, taste and curiosity. And, he adds, (quote) “the gift of love”.
For me that is a touching piece of writing coming at the end of a week in which a great friend of many people, Sister Frances Flint, founder of the Toowoomba Hospice, died.
I have no doubt whatsoever that she, good, cantankerous and faithful Catholic nun that she is or was, held distinctively opposite views to Adams when it comes to eternity. However, I’ll bet anyone London to a brick she would have absolutely no difference of opinion with him about the compensations for our awareness of our own mortality.
Sister Frances was a frequent and welcome guest in our home, a regular and enthusiastic consumer of our food and a great combatant at the dinner table.
I’ve learnt more about the foibles of Popes, priests and the laity over the top of several lamb chops and two veg than you could pick up in a lifetime of reading the Catholic Herald.
I’ve heard more compassionate good sense spoken between mouthfuls of apple crumble than most congregations would hear in a lifetime of morning sermons.
I’ve debated with her everything from the absurdity of wanting to be a nun from the age of five to the challenges of being faithful to her calling among the dwindling Brigidine Sister numbers.
I’ve agreed with her about everything from the mistreatment of Bishop Bill and the ordination of women to the need for the faithful to live every minute of every day with a certainty that God is keeping an eye on them.
I’ve disagreed with her, heatedly, gently and with good humour about many things to do with dogma, doctrine and hocus-pocus. I’ve often thought I was winning the debate only to have her pull out what I call the God card and realise I had no chance against such an opponent.
I know many people, including my own wife, who devote their energies and their intellects to the ongoing success of the Toowoomba Hospice. They salute the good sister’s achievements.
The hospice she founded is enriched by the services of its many devoted volunteers and the likes of the association chairman Graham Barron, nursing director Alicia Unpronounceable, and director of promotions and fundraising, Mark Moneybags. It will continue going from strength to strength with its invaluable work.
Sister Frances’ funeral takes place tomorrow. She will be greatly missed.