From the air, the size of Queensland can be appreciated. Cruising at between 500 to 2000 feet, it is easy to contemplate the vastness of the Outback and the practical needs of men. The North West is remote. It’s a long way to anywhere, especially a church.
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Next month marks the 50th anniversary of The Salvation Army’s Outback Flying Service, or flying padres, as well as this year is the group’s 150th year since its founding in London and the start of its 80th in Mount Isa.
The flying padres are like the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Both serve the isolated, who would otherwise be neglected. The difference is the padres tend to the spiritual and emotional - rather than medical needs.
The Army was begun to help “the least and the lost”, offering “soup, soap and salvation”. Preacher William Booth had seen the struggles of the impoverished in the East End. Today, there are 126 countries with posts and 15,000 Salvationists working tirelessly to help those people in need.
It began in Mount Isa in 1936 with captains Thelma Leech and Olive Devlin. Nowadays, the Salvos offer a range of services, including Sunday services, weekly meetings and activities, a Recovery Services Centre and the Flying Service.
Lieutenants Natalie and Simon Steele are among the Army’s modern presence in Mount Isa. For past 7 years, the Steeles have been the area’s flying padres, using a helicopter donated by Paul’s ice cream, based at Mount Isa Airport, to cover two million square kilometres, ministering.
From Tweed Heads, the change to the inland from the coast has been dramatic, for pilot Simon, a former Gold Coast ferry driver, said. He said he missed the seaside, but had come to admire the “uniqueness” of the desert. He said he found a resilience and neighbourliness its people. Perhaps because of their lack of technology, they were easier to connect with, he told the North West Star. The chopper allows the pair to be there for bush families on remote properties during disasters such as 2001’s Cyclone Yasi to fly food and emergency supplies, and provide practical and emotional support during the current drought.
Booth would still recognise his Army. The uniform and quasi-military structure remains. The corps still uses the same salute (index finger pointing to heaven), motto (“Blood and Fire”) and newspaper (the War Cry). The imagery is appropriate. The Army is fighting a war, one against injustice and poverty.
‘‘William Booth would be pleased to see the compassion of the Army today,” said Simon. The helicopter was an extension of the Salvo’s roots in social work, feeding the poor and easing the plight of marginalised, he said. It let the couple visit places that travelling by car was impractical and, by air, halved the commute time.
A part of their job is providing comfort in times of loneliness and a compassionate ear, Simon said. Checking up on the isolated and listening to their concerns often helped alleviate depression, he said.
A visionary, Booth would support the flying service, Nat said, because like his work in the East End it “reached beyond”.
Nat and Simon Steele have served in The Salvation Army as officers for more than 15 years because they believe it is their calling to help their community. They serve the Army “doing the most good”.
The Salvos are one of the most widely recognised charities, not because it preaches the Gospel, but because it helps people. In the corp’s mind, officers believe their work to be a religious act. The public understood they are doing good as an organisation that just happened to be Christian. Serving others has endeared them to all Australians.