'The Bishop of Burrill' (Part 1)

The villages at Burrill Lakes and Termeil made headlines when they were caught in the holocaust of 78,000 hectares of bush ablaze in 2019. Les Stewart was trapped in a creek bed with fire all around, his clothes smouldering, trying to defend his homestead, when his son arrived  in a water-tanker and hosed him down.
 
It was a narrow escape, but not the first for the man singer/song-writer Colin Buchanan christened, ‘The Bishop of Burrill.’ Les is a surfer, a horseman, a bikie and a preacher. More than anything, this bushman is a doer. Most of his life has been given in the service of people in remote places as a leader in the Bush Missionary Society. 

I learned from him that this grew from the initiative of a handful of teenage boys back in the 1850’s, taking simple leaflets explaining the Christian faith to isolated people on the fringes of Sydney. In a short time, missioners in horse-drawn vehicles were travelling all across NSW, an area four times the size of the United Kingdom, connecting to families and itinerants on lonely back-country properties.

 
John Mills, a long-time member of the BMS, described what they looked for in a man who would take on the tough assignment of travelling long miles to meet bush people who were often sceptical of religious types. They needed to be practical and not afraid of hard work. After meeting Les, I felt sure he qualified.

‘We require a man who could drive a horse, swim a stream, traverse a mountain, penetrate the trackless forest, pull (row a boat) up a river where he had never before been; camp out with the howl of the dingo resounding in his ears; and, in fact, face with a bold heart all the hardships and deprivation of bush life; steadily upholding, at all times, and under all circumstances, the work of God. He must be a man who would be able to express himself courteously, and, if necessary, to speak roughly and decisively.’ The Newcastle Chronicle (NSW), 18 April 1871, 2.

Les began by telling me he had no real stories to tell. I’ll let you decide that after you listen to him talk. I realised after we’d spoken for a while, that I barely scratched the surface of his extraordinary collection of experiences. I got the feeling we need more big-hearted men like Les, who model themselves on the Jesus who boldly faced hardships, spoke decisively and courteously, but was blunt when opposed.
Colin Buchanan wrote once about deciding the measure of a man.
 
‘The measure of man isn’t found,
In the dollars in his pocket
Or where he lives in town.
It’s what lies deep within,
Past the colour of his skin,
When we look there,
 We begin to understand
The measure of a man.

After spending time with Les, Colin measured what he saw as the secret of Les’s strength in a reflective song. It pictured him as Burrill’s ‘bush bishop’ riding through an ‘ironbark cathedral’ alive to the handiwork and presence of his Creator.   WATCH the interview and also LISTEN to the song.    DON'T MISS Part 2 of the interview, next on this website.
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​The Bishop of Burrill
Words & Music Colin Buchanan © 2001 Universal Music (Aust.) 

He’s going up into the mountains 
Going up into the hills 
Going to saddle up the chestnut mare 
And let her take him where she will 

Goin’ to catch himself a fish or two 
Going to gather up some wood 
Going to sit beneath the messmates wondering 
How he ever got it so good 

CHORUS 
​
Somewhere out past Yadboro 
Out behind Termeil 
In his ironbark cathedral 
Rides the Bishop of Burrill 
Out past Yadboro 
The bush behind Termeil 
Is ringing with the praises 
Of the Bishop of Burrill 

Going do a lot of thinking 
Going take a bit of space 
Maybe let a bit of angry weather 
Put him in his place 

On a swag under the moonlight  
By the flicker of a fire 
He’s going to marvel at the majesty 
Of the One who names the stars 
(and who knows that ...) 

CHORUS 

And on top of Kaliana 
He’s going to sing a simple prayer 
For the everlasting mercy 
Of the God who put him there 
And who holds him in his care 

CHORUS 
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