We grew up in Māngere East on Massey Road. My mum was the stronger Anglican and encouraged us to go to Selwyn Church. My brothers and I became altar boys.
Then the Māori Mission moved out towards Māngere. My mum wanted to go. It was at Cape Road, and the minister was Uncle Taki Marsden.
Across the road from home was the Māngere East Hawks rugby league club. Mum gave us an option: play league or help in the garden. She had a huge garden.
So I said, “I’ll play.”
When I stopped playing at 28, I decided then to go into ministry.
I started at the mission, going to ministry classes every Monday for 12 months. I remember thinking the process in Te Taitokerau was probably worse than SAS selection. You get really questioned by kaumātua – the church is tapu to them. It’s a path, according to the old people, that only selected people get chosen for.
I got commissioned at a Hui Amorangi in Mōtatau. I sat opposite Kingi Ihaka at hākari and he was still giving me questions then.
But I didn’t realise that was all part of the learning curve which helps later in life.
In 1998, I think the country was dormant. They wanted the Church to be more proactive. Someone suggested they have a national strike, and from what I’ve heard it was Julian Wilcox that mooted the idea of a Hīkoi of Hope.
Once the idea was mooted, as we know Whatarangi is very articulate in how he shapes that as a motion. He’ll play with words until he thinks it’s acceptable to move.
That was put through to the church, and it was for the church to nationally come together and bring about awareness—not only Anglicans but the whole country—about what’s happening, about who’s doing what to challenge the government about jobs, housing, health, and all those things.
Bishop Ben made me the Tai Tokerau co-ordinator and then left for the Lambeth Conference. Uncle Taki Marsden rang me the next day and asked who was on my committee.
I said, “What committee, Uncle? It’s just me.”
He said, “Well it’s me and you now. That’s two. That’s all we need. Let’s go.”
He got all of Tai Tokerau stirred up. He rang all the pastors between Auckland and Kaitaia and said we were coming to see them about the Hīkoi of Hope. In the space of a week we got to Kaitaia. A lot of people thought that it wouldn’t happen because it had never been done before.
We started at Cape Reinga at 5am. We had a karakia and then started the hīkoi—probably around 300–400 people on that first day to Waimanoni Marae.
The taumata challenged the church about losing land. That’s what the hīkoi did. It brought out a whole lot of grievances—church, unemployment, health. We really picked up the nawe our people were experiencing, our whānau that were struggling to meet day-to-day things.
A lot of kaumātua and kuia came out because the Hīkoi of Hope was a dream for some of them, to see the church doing something.
I remember some of the kaumātua putting their pension into buckets to go towards the hīkoi.
That stayed with me.
It was an amazing experience.
Now I’m back at St John’s. I knew that I had something more to offer, so I had to find a church that I could feel comfortable in, and who needed me.
I’m at Ruka Tapu, in Manurewa. It’s a nice, small church group and I think this is where I need to be.
I enjoy ministry there. I enjoy working here at St John’s, getting to know the students and supporting our ministry and formation team.
This is where I need to be.