‘We are but travellers’: St Bernard’s Bacchus Marsh celebrates 150 years

There is a spot on the Western Highway, in Victoria, just through the cutting after Hopetoun Park, where the valley opens up in all its lush glory. After the almost arid drive that precedes it, it can take your breath away.

I have often thought of travellers of the colonial era on that trip: of how much longer the horse and cart journey would have been from Melbourne, and how much more glorious the view of the valley must have seemed at the journey’s end.

In that valley is the ever-expanding township of Bacchus Marsh, the last outpost of the Archdiocese of Melbourne as you head towards Ballarat.

St Mary Mackillop made this journey many times on her way through to South Australia, stopping at the convent of her school here in Bacchus Marsh, praying in our beautiful Church, St Bernard’s. It’s a surreal thought that we too pray where she knelt.

The phrase ‘small but mighty’ often comes to mind when I think of this parish, and this was certainly apparent at the celebration of the 150th anniversary of St Bernard’s on 23 June 2024.

We are not a huge parish. Bacchus Marsh is still really a country town—growing certainly, but, in the scheme of things, a small community. As in so many places, we are constantly trying to bring Christ to those who are just not sure of his place in their lives.

Yet our hardworking parishioners prepared for the anniversary with dedication, love and, literally, the sweat of their brows over the course of many working bees. Old and young worked together to tidy up gardens, pressure-wash buildings and prepare the ground for pavers inscribed with the names of supporters of our parish.

The parish school children learnt all about our church and its history, with each year level, from prep to grade 6, focusing on a different aspects of the church building and what the symbols found there mean. As Principal Sr Mary Sarah Galbraith OP wrote in the commemorative book the students produced, ‘Through wood, brick, glass and stone, this place dedicated to God inspires and teaches us about Christ and Mary, the saints and angels, the ark and the Cross.’ As part of the festivities, the children also displayed their work in the entrance to the church.

As the day got closer, the work increased. There were booklets to finalise, music to practise, seating to arrange, vessels to polish and large quantities of food to get ready.

On the Saturday before the big day, I watched and listened as I helped to cream what felt like 1000 cakes as the older women in the parish reminisced about their years of involvement in parish events, bringing both laughter and a sincere attention to detail to their work, determined that everything would be done to the best of their ability. They love this church so much; they love their community so much.

When the day finally arrived, so did Archbishop Peter A Comensoli, along with almost 400 people, who happily packed themselves into the small church.

In his homily, the Archbishop—apparently also inspired by the travellers of old—quoted passages from Archbishop Goold’s diary on the less than ideal conditions he experienced travelling the roads in the Bacchus Marsh area!

Taking inspiration from the readings of the day, Archbishop Comensoli also encouraged us all to persevere through the difficulties we encounter in our lives. ‘Our world—this place created by God for us—is a mysterious and splendid reality. Yet, it is also treacherous in its power. To borrow a line from the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” It is beyond our capacity to contain, as much as we seek to do so, for it is God-created, not human-manufactured,’ he reminded us.

‘Jesus remains the sure anchor who wants our good. “Have faith in me,” he says to us. Or, as St Paul put it, allow the love of Christ to overwhelm us, not the storms thrown up at us.’

After the Mass, the Archbishop blessed the foundation stone of the very first church of our community, St Laurence O’Toole’s, which had miraculously been discovered in the rubble of the old building.

After the ceremonies were concluded, the grounds of the church came to life with chatter, as people caught up, made introductions and generally enjoyed themselves. Very slowly, they made their way to the beautifully decorated hall, where plenty of refreshments were waiting.

The faith community here in Bacchus Marsh is very much alive. It’s sometimes said that if there are no children crying in the church, then the church is dying. We are definitely not suffering from that here. (It is often commented from the pulpit that the ‘children’s choir’ is in full voice!)

Many families are moving to our part of the world, especially over the last ten years, and over this time, our local families and priests have so graciously welcomed and engaged with each new face.

We thank all those who have helped nurture the faith of the parish over all its 150 years, especially our more recent parish priests Fr Brian Glasheen, Fr Fabian Smith and all the assistant priests who have spent time with us. We are very grateful for our current parish priest and assistants—Fr Alex Clemente RCJ, Fr Wilford Urmaza RCJ and Fr Lucas Myint—for all they continue to do for us.

As I sat that June morning among so many generations of parishioners—from older stalwarts to rambunctious toddlers—an air of hope permeated the gathering. It reminded me of the famous words of Mary Mackillop: ‘We are but travellers here.’ We are caretakers not just of bricks and mortar but of Truth, a 2000-year-old Truth, who has a name. He is the same yesterday, today and forever, and whether our church building is just one or 150 years old, we are all on the same pilgrimage towards our ultimate home with him.