The Bruyns of Brown Street (5)—Daniel Justin Bruyn

In exploring the history of the land and house which Elizabeth and I purchased in Dungog a few years ago, I have already noted the early landholders for this property, and investigated the life of Daniel and Sarah Bruyn and their family after Daniel purchased the land in 1858. When Daniel died intestate in 1882, all of his property was made over to his son, Daniel Justin Bryan, whose life we now consider.

Daniel Justin Bruyn was born in France. His parents, Joseph and Sarah, had married in 1837 in West Bromwich, Staffordshire, where four children were born in the years 1837 to 1842. The family travelled to France, perhaps seeking to use there the skills that Daniel Snr had as a Blacksmith. Two children were born there; Mary died within a year, Daniel Jnr was born on 26 May 1847, at Graville, Le Havre, Seine.

After four years the family returned to England because of the unrest relating to industrialisation. Another daughter was born; the family then migrated to the Colony of New South Wales in 1856 and settled in Dungog, where Daniel purchased land and established his Blacksmith business.

Daniel Justin Bruyn was eleven years of age when his father purchased the land in Brown St; presumably he lived with the family there for some time after they moved into the building that was erected there, at some stage between 1858 and 1866, as noted previously.

Grevilles 1872 Post Office Directory lists both Daniel Bryun, Blacksmith, of Brown St, Dungog, and Joseph Bruyn, farmer, “near Dungog”. Joseph was the firstborn son of Daniel. At some point after this, Daniel Justin Bruyn began to purchase land holdings to the north of Dungog.

Daniel Justin Bruyn

On 11 Sept 1879, Daniel Justin Bruyn is listed as selecting 234 acres in Dungog, Al. No. 76-37754, C.P. No. 73–9338. On 19 April 1883 Daniel Justin Bruyn made application to be registered as “Proprietor by Transmission” of land in Dungog, as the Administrator of the intestate estate of Daniel Bruyn, deceased. The land was 3 acres, Lots 1, 2, and 3, of Section 32, Town of Dungog; this was on the northern side of Hooke St, between Abelard and Eloisa Streets. (There are residential building on these lots today.)

On 1 September 1892 Daniel Justin Bruyn made application for 79 1/2 acres at Tillegra; on 1 February 1893, 78 3/4 acres was granted to him. On 20 October 1892 he made application for 77 acres at Dungog; on 1 February 1893, 65 1/4 acres was granted to him. It is also reasonable to assume, from a piece of evidence noted below, that Daniel had a room in the house at Brown Street where his sister lived. That was his base when he was in town, it would seem.

In a series of Electoral Rolls (1895, 1900, 1904) Daniel Justin Bryun, Grazier, is listed as living at Sugarloaf. In 1905, he is listed as having 15 horses and 190 cattle (and no sheep) on his property at Sugarloaf Creek.

A survey map of the area, dated 9 January 1894, designates seven properties in his name running along the northern boundary of the Parish of Dungog, adjacent to the Parish of Tillegra, to the south of the current Sugarloaf Road, and west of the Longbrush Gully. Another survey map for the Parish of Tillegra places him as owner of a further fourteen Lots running in parallel to his Dungog Parish holdings.

In the Parish of Dungog, running east to west, Bruyn owned Lots 128 (50 acres) and 134 (73 acres), adjacent to each other; then stretching west from them, Lots 52 (234 acres), 50 (40 acres), 136 (40 acres), 53 (120 acres), and 151 (65 acres). This final Lot was the penultimate Lot before the boundary with the Parish of Lewinsbrook, covering the area between Dungog and Gresford. The total acreage of these seven Lots is 622 acres.

The holdings of Daniel Justin Bruyn in the Sugarloaf region, running along the northern boundary
of the Parish of Dungog

In addition, on the other side of the Parish boundary, in the Parish of Tillegra, there is another, more extensive, collection of Lots in the name of Daniel Justin Bruyn. Running east to west, he owned Lots 48 (40 acres), 129 (49 acres), 37 (40 acres), 38 (40 acres), 49 (80 acres), 106 (114 acres), 4 (99 acres), 149 (40 acres), 119 (40 acres), 137 (40 acres), 138 (40 acres), 55 (78 acres), 145 (40 acres), and 55 (78 acres)! The total acreage of these Lots is 818 acres.

The holdings of Daniel Justin Bruyn in the Sugarloaf region
on the southern border of the Parish of Tillegra,
adjacent to his holdings in the Parish of Dungog

The Sugarloaf Creek meanders its way through the easternmost half of the Lots in the Parish of Tillegra. A survey map declares that all of these Lots were part of a larger area, Gloucester Coldfield, that was proclaimed on 3rd June 1879. Together, the 1,440 acres of these Lots form a very significant landholding. To the east of Daniel’s landholdings, another series of Lots totalling 249 acres bear the name of his sister, Ellen Bruyn.

In the Dungog Chronicle of 30 August 1898, p.3, a notice appeared relating to a proposed “public meeting for the purpose of petitioning the Minister for Works, through the Member for Durham, to construct a road between Gresford and Dungog”. There are 14 signatories to this notice, including that of Daniel J. Bruyn, indicating that “a public meeting [is] to be held at the Council Chambers on THURSDAY NEXT, at 8 p.m.”

As one owning property in the Sugarloaf Creek area, Daniel Bruyn obviously had a vested interest. It is clear that the petition for the construction of this road was successful, as a road today does wind its way through the beautiful hills in the area between Gresford and Dungog, and through some of the land once owned by Daniel Justin Bruyn.

Scenery on the Sugarloaf Road from Dungog to Gresford, 2024

Not only did Daniel Justin Bruyn die a wealthy man, however; he died also a highly-regarded and well-respected member of the Dungog community. His obituary (see below) indicated that he was a Trustee of the Dungog Hospital, a Municipal Alderman, a Justice of the Peace, a longterm committee member of the A. and H. Association, and one of the founders of the Dungog School of Arts. He followed the local cricket team with enthusiasm, and owned a number of horses that he raced in the local area.

On 17 November 1891, the Government Gazette (p.9023) contained a notice from the Department of Lands of the appointment of Joseph Abbott, George Alexander McKay, Vincent Carlton, John Robson, and Daniel Justin Bruyn, as “Trustees of the land at Dungog, viz. portion 135, parish of Dungog, county of Dungog, dedicated 15th September 1891, for hospital site”.

Notice from the NSW Government Gazette of 7 Nov 1891

The Dungog Cottage Hospital was opened on Hospital Hill in 1892 and the site, now much expanded, has provided local hospital and medical services since that time.

The Dungog Cottage Hospital building

On 21 July 1893, the Government Gazette (p.5663) contained a notice of the election of Frederick Agustus Hooke, Dingadee, Dungog; Daniel Justian [sic.] Bruyn, Brown-street, Dungog; Henry Charles Dark, Dowling-street, Dungog; Joseph Abbott, Dowling-street, Dungog; John Robson, Dowling-street, Dungog; and John A. Jones, Dowling-street, Dungog, as Aldermen of the Municipal District of Dungog.

1893 Government Gazette announcement

Then, on 8 February 1896, the Government Gazette (p.1022) contained a notice of the election of Frederick Augustus Hooke and Daniel Justin Bruyn, as Aldermen of the Municipal District of Dungog. Three years later, on 13 February 1899, the Government Gazette (p.1415) contained a notice of the election of Frederick Augustus Hooke, Daniel Justin Bruyn, and John McLauchlin, as Aldermen of the Municipal District of Dungog.

Extracts from the Dungog Chronicle of 1896 and 1989, announcing the election of Alderman for the Municipality of Dungog

On 4 May 1901, the Maitland Mercury (p.3) reported that Daniel Justin Bruyn was amongst a list of “gentlemen appointed to them commission of the Peace” (that is, as a Magistrate, or a Justice of the Peace).

On 22 September 1886, Daniel Justin Bruyn had made his last Will and Testament “whereby he gave devised and bequeathed all his property of whatsoever nature and wheresoever situate to his sister Ellen Bruyn absolutely and appointed the said Ellen Bruyn the sole Executrix thereof”. On 1 November 1912 Daniel Justin Bruyn died, and that will came into effect. So Ellen received a significant amount of property, as we have seen.

The Register of Coroner’s Inquests for 2 November 1912 lists an inquest for Daniel Justyn Bruyn of Dungog, held by Walterus Le Brun Brown, J.P., which notes that “cash or property possessed by deceased” was “probably over £10,000”. That equates to around $1.45 million in 2023.

to be continued … … …

*****

See earlier posts at

and subsequent posts at

The Bruyns of Brown Street (4)—Daniel, Sarah, and family (cont.)

The land on which the house that we currently own and live in, on Brown Street, Dungog, was part of the original area of land in the town of Dungog that was made available in 1838 to settlers by the Governor of the Colony of New South Wales, Sir George Gipps.

Of course, this land and the surrounding region had been the land of the Gringai people for millennia; but once the British government started sending convicts to this continent, and began the process of claiming the land from the Indigenous people, the British system of law, and of land and property, became dominant as new settlements were opened up for the incoming settlers.

A bundle of documents which we received when we purchased the property provides information about the sequence of owners, from 1842, when the land was bought by James Fawell, up to 1969, when it was bought by Victoria Jack and Wendy Elizabeth Finney. These documents show that it was owned by a series of men in the middle of the 19th century: James Fawell (1852), Barnet Levey (1852), William Hopkins (1855), John Maberly (1857), and then Daniel Bruyn (1858).

The series of legal documents
relating to the Brown St property

When Daniel Bruyn purchased the land in 1858, two years after arriving on New South Wales, it meant that he could provide a home for his family in Dungog, as well as a site to conduct his business as a Blacksmith. When Daniel Snr died intestate in 1882, all of his property was made over to his son, Daniel Justin Bryan; a few months later, the land he held in Brown St had been purchased by his daughter, Ellen Bruyn. She lived in the house until her death in 1927.

What do we know of the life of the Bruyn family? In the obituary to Miss Ellen Bruyn after her death, published in the Dungog Chronicle of Tuesday 4 October 1927, p.2, we read: “In the memorable flood of 1857, the [Bruyn] family had to be rescued from their home, which, although situated at a comparatively high level, was inundated by the swirling waters. It was the year that eight of the ill-fated Ross family were swept to death from their home on Melbee flat.”

The Bruyn family survived the flood. The names of the members of the Ross family who died in this flood are listed in a report of the inquest held on 1 September 1857, namely: “George Ross, aged 39 years; Mrs. Ross, aged 27 years; William Ross, aged 9 years; Mary Jane Ross, aged 7 years; John Ross, aged 6 years; Elizabeth Ross, aged 4 years; Julia Ross, aged 1 year and 9 months.” (Maitland Mercury, Thursday 3 September 1857, p.2)

The obituary to Ellen Bruyn also reports that “The Bruyn family played an important part in Dungog’s progress, and were prominently identified with every forward movement. They experienced many of the trials and hardships inseparably associated with the early pioneering days, and saw many thrilling happenings.” That’s a very nice tribute to them all—and it would be fascinating to know more about some of these “thrilling happenings”!

We know far more about men in society in the 19th and 20th centuries than we do about women; not only were male occupations more public (“a woman’s place is in the home”, as the sexist, but generally accurate, saying went in those days), but the bias towards males overall is evident in so many ways.

Newspapers articles do report the contributions of women to some charitable and community events and organisations; but it is predominantly the men who serve on Council, buy and sell property, conduct professions and trades, and are in what were seen, at that time, to be leadership roles in the community.

Daniel and Sarah Bruyn, late in their lives

So not much more cannot be said about Sarah Bruyn other than, as a faithful wife and mother of six children, she would have organised and run the Bruyn household with efficiency and diligence. She should always be considered to be there—albeit “in the shadows”—when her husband, Daniel Joseph Bruyn, is mentioned.

And fortuitously, as we shall see, her spinster daughter Ellen would be noted more often in the newspapers of the day and even on property registers (as an adult she owned land adjacent to the holdings of her brother, Daniel Justin). Through her compassion, diligence, and concentrated effort, she was able to make bequests in her will that both reflected her community involvements and that had a life of their own, for two decades and more, for the good of the community. Did she inherit these traits from her mother, perchance?

At the age of 75, the mother of the Bruyn family, Sarah Ellen Bruyn, died on 4 May 1882; her husband Daniel Joseph Bruyn died soon after on 29 August 1882. They are both buried in the Dungog Cemetery.

The tombstone for Daniel and Sarah Bruyn
in the Dungog Cemetery
The inscriptions on the tombstone of Daniel and Sarah Bruyn

Daniel died intestate, so there were legal matters to be dealt with. In the first instance, all of the property held by Daniel Joseph Bruyn was to be given over to his son, Daniel Justin Bruyn. The Dungog Chronicle included the following notice:

In the Supreme Court of New South Wales ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION. In the land, goods, chattels, credits, and effects of Daniel Bruyn, late of Dungog, in the Colony of New South Wales, blacksmith, deceased, intestate.

NOTICE is hereby given, that after the expiration of fourteen days from the publication hereof in the Government Gazette, application will be made to this Honorable Court, in its Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction, that letters of administration of all and singular, the lands, goods, chattels, credits, and effects of the abovenamed deceased, who died at Dungog aforesaid, on the twenty-ninth day of August last, may be granted to Daniel Justin Bruyn, of Dungog, in the said Colony, blacksmith, son of the said deceased.—Dated this eleventh day of September, A.D. 1882.

RICHARD ALEXANDER YOUNG, Proctor for Applicant, West Maitland. By W. J. Fergusson, 136, Pitt-street, his Agent. 6023 6s. 6d.

It appears that plans were made for this to be duly executed, as a notice in the classified advertising of the Maitland Mercury of Sat 24 Feb 1883, p.7, indicates that the two blocks of land in Brown St are to be sold be auction:

SALE BY PUBLIC AUCTION.

J. ROBSON has received instructions from Mr Daniel Justin Bruyn, Administrator in the Estate of the late Mr. Daniel Bruyn, Blacksmith, of Dungog, to sell by public auction, at Robson’s Hotel, Dungog, on Saturday, 3rd day of March, 1883, at Three o’clock p.m. sharp, 2 HALF-ACRE ALLOTMENTS OF LAND, situated and Fronting Brown-street, in the Town of Dungog, and adjoining the Market Reserve, being Allotments Number 6 and Number 7, of Section Number 5; Together with ALL THE BUILDINGS ERECTED THEREON, which consists of a Comfortable Dwellinghouse, Kitchen, Blacksmith Shop, and other Outbuildings. TITLE PERFECT. Terms cash. 2938

This notice certainly shows that buildings had been erected on the land and were in use well before 1883.

The next piece of information about this property comes from the next Conveyance contained in the bundle of documents we received when purchasing our land. That Conveyance, dated 1 May 1883 (two months after the auction day) indicates that Ellen bought the two blocks of land from her brother Daniel for £160.

“Conveyance dated 31st day of May 1883 … between Ellen Bruyn of Dungog, Spinster, and Daniel Justin Bruyn of Dungog, Blacksmith, Allotment No. Seven of Section No. Five and Allotment No. Six of Section No. Five. Two hundred pounds”.

Before we explore the story of Ellen Bruyn, we need to give due consideration to the life of Daniel Justin Bruyn.

And so to the next chapter in this story … … …

*****

See earlier posts at

and subsequent posts at

Things That Matter: for the Fiftieth Anniversary of United Theological College (2025)

I’ve just received my copy of Things That Matter: Essays on Theological Education on the Occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of United Theological College. The college (UTC) was where I trained for ministry in the latter years of the 1970s, was a visiting lecturer in the later 1980s, and taught as a member of the Faculty from 1990 to 2010.

It is edited by my friend and colleague, William W. Emilsen (whom I’ve known since he was also a student at UTC in the 1970s) and  Patricia Curthoys. Both are historians of some repute within the Australian church and beyond, each having written and published a number of significant historical works, as well as collaborating on earlier historical volumes.

The UTC campus in North Parramatta, Sydney, NSW

Prof. Glen O’Brien says that the book “highlights well the flourishing of the diverse contextual theologies that have been developed at UTC over many decades.” Assoc. Prof. Geoff Thompson, reflecting the title of the book, appreciates that the book explores “what has mattered, what no longer matters, what should matter.” And the President of the Uniting Church, the Rev. Charissa Suli (herself a graduate of UTC) offers appreciation for the way the book “beautifully weaves personal narratives with deep reflections on identity, vocation, and hospitality within Christian discipleship.”

There are ten chapters in the book, each written by a different author. I was pleased to be able to contribute the final chapter, “With Heart and Mind”, exploring the research output produced within the college over the last 25 years—both publications by members of Faculty as well as the many doctoral dissertations that they supervised during those years. 

I’d had early involvement in the development of the research culture of the College when we offered bachelor and masters degrees through the Sydney College of Divinity in the 1990s. In those days we had a Research and Publications Committee, which I convened, and a regular masters-level seminar. It is most pleasing to see how from those early steps a strong research and publications culture has developed, with scores of doctoral dissertations having been produced in the first 25 years of this century, supported by the regular Friday postgraduate seminar where ideas are presented, critiqued, and refined.

In the end, my chapter in this book ran to twenty-two pages with 114 footnotes, followed by a bibliography of works published by Faculty and PhD dissertations completed under their supervision, which added another 8 pages. So it was quite a piece of work: variously fascinating, illuminating, daunting, and finally: achieved!

There are many reasons why I am looking forward to reading this book. In an opening chapter, Ross Chambers explores the relationship of the College (and through it, the Church) to the University of which we became a part, in the School of Theology of Charles Sturt University. This is a substantial reason that underlies the flourishing research culture that I wrote about; government funding to the University meant that the college gained financial contributions for each faculty publication and for supervision of research students.

Ross was instrumental in negotiating the involvement of UTC in CSU; he saw the value of bringing into the School a Faculty where each member themselves had a quality doctoral qualification as well as a growing experience in research supervision. (And, of course, this would undoubtedly look good for the University!) Ross is both a former Vice-Chancellor of CSU and a Chair of the UTC Council (which in earlier years, when I was then secretary of this council, was chaired by two previous Vic-Chancellors of Macquarie University: Bruce Mansfield and then Barry Leal).

There are chapters in this book which explore ministerial formation, the centrality of community, the varying approaches to teaching from those responsible for Systematic Theology, the wonderful Camden Theological Library under the brilliantly entrepreneurial stewardship of Moira Bryant, and the opportunities for continuing education (especially through the presence of overseas visiting scholars) for those already engaged in ministry.

There’s a chapter on the intersection between multiculturalism (a key commitment of the Uniting Church) and theological learning, as well as a chapter each devoted to the experiences of the many Korean students of UTC, and the equally numerous Pasifika students, many of whom have produced doctoral work that develops and extends the theology of their native countries (Tonga, Samoan, Fiji, Tuvalu, the Cook Islands, and more). 

It’s a delight to know that my co-contributors to this book are both those alongside whom I taught for many years, as well as some whom I had taught in their foundational theological studies. It augurs well for the College and the Church that the current Faculty includes UTC graduates Peter Walker (Principal), Sef Carroll (Cross Cultural Ministry and Theology) and Bec Lindsay (Hebrew Scripture/Old Testament). A number of previous faculty members (myself included) had also begun their theological studies at UTC. Whilst there is certainly value in having teachers from beyond this circle—indeed, in some cases, from beyond the Uniting Church—on the faculty, it’s important to have “home-grown” scholars-ministers as well.

As I say, I am looking forward to reading the other chapters. I understand that the publication of the book will be recognised at the forthcoming meeting of the NSW.ACT Synod, and then there will be a formal public launch on 12 September at UTC in North Parramatta.

The book is published by Wipf & Stock and is available to order at https://wipfandstock.com/9798385218813/things-that-matter/

 

The Bruyns of Brown Street (3)—Daniel, Sarah, and the Bruyn family

The land on which the house that we currently own and live in, on Brown Street, Dungog, was part of the original area of land in the town of Dungog that was made available in 1838 to settlers by the Governor of the Colony of New South Wales, Sir George Gipps.

Of course, this land and the surrounding region had been the land of the Gringai people for millennia; but once the British government started sending convicts to this continent, and began the process of claiming the land from the Indigenous people, the British system of law, and of land and property, became dominant as new settlements were opened up for the incoming settlers.

A bundle of documents which we received when we purchased the property provides information about the sequence of owners, from 1842, when the land was bought by James Fawell, up to 1969, when it was bought by Victor Jack and Wendy Elizabeth Finney. These documents show that it was owned by a series of men in the middle of the 19th century: James Fawell (1852), Barnet Levey (1852), William Hopkins (1855), John Maberly (1857), and then Daniel Bruyn (1858).

Three Conveyances, dated from 1857, 1858, and 1883,
relating to the land in Brown St, Dungog

Daniel Bruyn obtained ownership of the land in 1858. A Conveyance dated 30th January 1858, between John Maberly of Windsor, Boot and Shoe Maker, and Daniel Bruyn of Dungog, Blacksmith, reports that “Allotment No. Seven of Section No. Five in the Town of Dungog” changed hands for the price of Fifty three pounds ten shillings. The land would stay in his hands until he died.

What do we know of this man and his family? Daniel Joseph Bruyn was born in Roscommon, Ireland, in the closing years of the 18th century. He migrated to England, and married Sarah Ellen Nichols on 5 February 1837 in West Bromwich, Staffordshire. Sarah had been born in 1807. Daniel’s occupation was Blacksmith.

A number of children were born to Daniel and Sarah in England: Joseph (1837—1905) and Margaret (Dec 1837—1928), both in Birmingham, Warwickshire; Ellen Esther (1839—1927) and Elizabeth Ann (1842—1929), both in Smethwick, Staffordshire.

At that point of time, the current County boundaries were different; Smethwick today is a suburb of the huge city of Birmingham, population now 1.142 million; but in the 1830s it was a small village four miles away from the centre of the town of Birmingham, population then 183,000.

The family travelled to France, where two children were born. A daughter, Mary, arrived in 1845 but died within a year. A son, Daniel Jnr, was born on 26 May 1847, at Graville, Le Havre, Seine. After four years the family returned to England, due to a surge of unrest in French society. Some claims have been made that people were upset about foreigners taking the jobs of French Citizens; many foreigners sought to escape and it is said that most left without their belongings and being paid. Certainly, unemployment and the cost of living was rising, fuelling such unrest.

The Library of Congress Guides contains the following report about the broader political situation of the time:

“The Revolution of 1848, or February Revolution, ended the Orléanist rule and brought in the period of the Second Republic. During this time, many countries in Europe were undergoing revolutions that sought to topple conservative monarchies with liberal democracies … This era also coincided with a deep interest in socialism in France. The Saint Simonian movement was at its height by now. There was a mood of general discontent … Paris became a battleground between numerous factions … equally opposed to one another.

“Election results were not to the satisfaction of the radicals (the popular vote elected moderate and conservative candidates) and as a result the so-called “June Days” erupted, a short-lived civil war in Paris. The rebellion was put down by General Cavaignac, but it took months for the Assembly to come up with a constitution. When it was finally agreed upon it was quite liberal and provided a four-year term President chosen by universal male suffrage. They chose Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte (nephew to Napoléon I) to be president of the Second Republic.”

Taken from https://guides.loc.gov/women-in-the-french-revolution/revolutions-rebellions/1789-1830-1848#:~:text=The%20Revolution%20of%201848%2C%20or,conservative%20monarchies%20with%20liberal%20democracies.

Back in England, another daughter, Malvenia (1850—1938) was born in Smethwick, Staffordshire. It seems that Malvenia was also known as Sarah; at her marriage to John Landers of Dungog in 1871 she is identified as “Sarah Malvina Bruen”. They moved to the New England region, and the Electoral Roll for 1930, 12 years after John’s death, lists “Landers, Sarah Malvina, Castle Doyle road, Armidale, home duties”.

The Commodore Perry. It was launched in 1854;
in 1856 it brought immigrants to Australia and returned to England with gold and wool. The February 1856 voyage which brought the Bruyn family to the Colony was completed in just over 72 days, an excellent time for those times.

The family came to the Colony of New South Wales in 1856 as assisted migrants. Daniel and Sarah arrived on board the Commodore Perry on 1 May 1856 with their five children. The list of immigrants on this ship lists “Daniel Bruyn age 43, Sarah Bruyn age 49, Margaret age 18, Ellen age 16, Elizabeth age 14, Daniel age 9, Sarah age 6”.

Their eldest child Joseph (then aged 19) did not travel with them, although he does appear in New South Wales a few years later. Joseph had been born to Daniel and Sarah prior to their marriage. He was born with his mother’s surname, as Joseph Nichols, and later married under that name.

Joseph Nicholls was 22 when he and his wife and children arrived on the Daphne 1859 as the Nicholls family (Daniel Bruyn was the person who assisted this immigration). Once off the ship Joseph, his wife and children changed their name to Bruyn. Sadly, Joseph and Mary lost four of their children to Diphtheria in March 1866 (Sarah Jane, Ellen, Frederick, and Thomas).

Daniel and Sarah Bruyn, later in life

Within two years of arriving in Australia, the Bruyns had moved to Dungog and settled in the town. Some comments in the Dungog Chronicle of Tuesday 4 October 1927, p.2, report that on arrival in Sydney in 1856, “the family came direct to Dungog, arriving here on May 24th.” However, in an interview with Ellen, one of the daughters, conducted many decades later in the last year of her life, the Sydney Daily Telegraph of Tuesday 14 June 1927 reported her as saying that when they came to Australia “they all joined in the gold rush at Hanging Rock” (p.18).

At Hanging Rock in the Armidale region to the northwest of Sydney, gold had been discovered in 1851; by February the next year, 27 cradles were operating with some 200 diggers searching for their fortune. Panning continued for some decades; at its peak there were several thousand people living at Hanging Rock. It is entirely feasible that the Bruyn family had gone there for a brief period in 1856—1857, but I have found no other evidence to substantiate this claim made by Ellen in this 1927 interview.

The same report continues, reporting that the Bruyn family “occupied a house, long since demolished, then owned by Mr. Campbell that stood at the rear of Mrs. M. A. Dark’s present home, and almost opposite the residence that Miss Bruyn occupied for the past few decades.” (This extract is from an obituary to Miss Ellen Bruyn after her death in 1927.)

The residence of Mrs. Dark which is noted in this report would be Coolalie, on Dowling Street; it is referred to as her house because her husband, Henry Charles Dark, had died in 1901, and so it would be known in 1927 as “Mrs Dark’s home”. The house to the rear would have been opposite the land on Brown Street that is the focus of our explorations.

The Mr. Campbell referred to here could be Dougall Campbell, who was a convict assigned in 1828 to Mr. John Hooke. (Hooke gave his name to Hooke St on the northern end of the town; he had been granted 2560 acres in 1828.) If so, we may presume that by the 1850s, Campbell had received his Certificate of Freedom and had become a reputable citizen of the town, as many former convicts have done across the continent.

Just two years after arriving in Dungog, Daniel Bruyn became the owner of “Allotment No. Seven of Section No. Five in the Town of Dungog”. In a Conveyance dated 30 January 1858 between John Maberly of Windsor, Boot and Shoe Maker, and Daniel Bruyn of Dungog, Blacksmith, the transfer was effected for a price of fifty three pounds ten shillings.

Section 5 in the Town of Dungog can be seen marked just below the WN of the word TOWN on this survey map

The land, facing Brown Street, would stay in the hands of the Bruyn family for over a century—from 1858 to 1968; although, as we shall see, members of the Bruyn family lived there only until 1927. There is good evidence that Daniel conducted his business as a Blacksmith on this property during the two decades or so that the family lived here.

It is not clear when the family moved from the residence behind Mrs. Dark’s home, mentioned in the 1927 obituary of Ellen Bruyn, onto the property across the road where there was a “residence that Miss Bruyn occupied for the past few decades” (until her death in 1927). It is reasonable to hypothesise that the family came to Dungog, found housing in Mr Campbell’s property, purchased the land in Brown Street, had a house built on that land, and then moved in to that building. How soon after the 1858 purchase of this land this move took place, is not known.

It is certainly clear that at some stage Joseph Bruyn also had a foundry built where he could carry out his business as a Blacksmith. One mention of Bruyn’s blacksmithing business comes in a 1934 report of reminiscences by “Mr. Hewlitt Tate, of Lithgow”, in the Dungog Chronicle of Friday 5 January 1934, p.5, entitled DUNGOG’S FIRST BLACKSMITH.

Mr Tate recalls that “The first blacksmith in Dungog, I was led to believe, was Thomas Smith, father of Johnny Smith who was wheelwright in Dungog 70 years ago. He has been dead between 80 and 90 years. Mother used to tell us boys about her grandfather riding over to Stroud when he was sent for by the A.A. Company, to do any special blacksmithing. Mother was then 12 or 13 years of age.

“I remember the late Mr. Kehoe, an old blacksmith, of Dungog, telling us boys that he was in Dungog before the late Mr. Bruyn. Then there was an old Mr. Arrowsmith who used to live along the Stroud road about half a mile the other side of the river.”

Some months later, on Tuesday 17 July 1934, the Dungog Chronicle published a hand-drawn map entitled LOOKING BACK INTO THE PAST: DUNGOG FROM 1855 TO 1867. Key businesses are indicated on the map by numerical coding. In the relevant block of Brown St, on the corner of Dowling St, #56 designates “J. Wade, store”, which was established by John Wade in 1866.

An article in the Australian Dictionary of Biography describes Wade as “an active member of the Methodist Church, Wade was conference representative and circuit steward at Dungog, and later at Ashfield and Mosman. He helped to found the Dungog School of Arts with an abiding friend Rev. Dr J. E. Carruthers who served at that town in 1871–73. Wade was also a founder (1881) and chairman of the Williams River Steam Navigation Co. Ltd. As a Protectionist, he twice unsuccessfully contested the Legislative Assembly seat of Durham.”

Wade’s store was later bought by H.C. Dark and was developed to become the largest general store in Dungog. The present long and imposing two-story building was built in 1897 and extended in 1917.

In 1866, however, Wade’s store would have been a much more modest building. Immediately adjacent to that on the LOOKING BACK INTO THE PAST map is #12, “D. Bruyn, blacksmiths”. An undated image entitled “Bruyn’s Cottage in Brown Street where the park is now” appears to show a family house with white posts, next to a building that most likely was the foundry for Bruyn.

Outside the house are two women (perhaps Sarah and one of her daughters?), while outside the putative foundry are two horses, one held by an apparently-bearded man (perhaps Daniel Bruyn himself?). Certainly, and unsurprisingly given the fashion, a photo of Daniel Bruyn late in his life shows him sporting a generous set of muttonchops and beard.

A decade later than the 1934 publication of this map, the Dungog Chronicle Friday 19 October, 1943 (p.5) published an article entitled “Early Recollections of Dungog” by a person styling themselves simply “Ex-Dungogite”. The recollections in this article includes a discussion of trades in the town. The author notes that “Mr. J. Tierney carried on wheel-wrighting in a general way with which he combined the undertaking business. Mr. Jno Smith, succeeded by Mr. Thos. Gurr, was also in the wheel-wrighting trade in another part of the town.”


A photograph of a Victorian Blacksmith’s Shop, from The Victorian Web at. https://victorianweb.org/history/work/blacksmith.html
The commentary attached to this photograph notes that “blacksmiths had a place among the working classes, and these men worked with their hands and arms in a hot, grimy smithy. Blacksmiths, who have a history that goes back thousands of years, however, had a far higher economic and social position than farm or factory workers. As highly skilled artisans, they also managed to remain independent and in demand until well into the twentieth century when the automobile destroyed many of their opportunities for work. Even then, these skilled iron workers often morphed into auto mechanics just as a century earlier some had become pioneeering engineers.”

With regard to blacksmiths, the author notes that “Mr. J. Keogh was a general blacksmith in the Main Street, while Mr. D. Bruyn carried on a similar business in the hollow in Brown street … Mr. J. Luney first conducted a blacksmithing business in the allotment occupied at present by the newspaper office. He afterwards removed farther up the street.” The town was well-served by blacksmiths—including Daniel Bruyn “in the hollow in Brown street”, on the property he had bought in 1858.

(The writer also speculates that “Miss Ellen Bruyn, if still existant as I trust she is and still well, notwithstanding her sum of honorable years — must be the oldest Dungog resident.” Writing in 1943, the “Ex-Dungogite” appears unaware of Ellen Bruyn’s death, at the age of 88 years, some 16 years earlier.)

To be continued … … …

*****

See earlier posts at

and subsequent posts at

Poor Politics, Poorer Theology (part one): The Conflict between the Trump Administration and The Vatican on Immigration and Mass Deportation 

This essay and the one which follows it in a subsequent blog is written by my friend and colleague, the Rev. Dr Geoff Dornan, offering a Christian ethical perspective on a recent controversy (one of so, so many) in the United States of America. Geoff has a PhD in Philosophy, Theology & Ethics from Boston University, USA. He is currently serving as Minister in Placement at Wesley Uniting Church in Canberra, ACT.

1. INTRODUCTION: JD VANCE ON ORDO AMORIS

In an interview by Fox News’ Sean Hannity, on January 30th this year, the U.S. Vice President. J.D. Vance offered a theological and moral defence of the Trump Administration’s policy of forced mass deportations.

This policy revokes the temporary legal status of potentially hundreds of thousands of people without due process, in defiance of the fifth and fourteenth amendments of the American constitution.

In the discussion, Vance declared that “the far left” in the United States tend to have “more compassion” for people residing in the country “illegally” (my apostrophes), including those who have committed crimes, than they do for American citizens. He opined that compassion should first be directed to fellow citizens, adding that this does not mean that people from outside of one’s borders, should be hated, but that one’s priority should be for those within.

Vance and Hannity

In support of his contention, Vance said:

“But there’s this old-school [concept] – and I think a very Christian concept, by the way – that you love your family, and then you love your neighbour, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.”

The idea to which Vance referred was that of St Thomas Aquinas, commentated upon in his great body of work, the Summa Theologica, known as ordo amoris – “rightly ordered love”.

Later that evening Vance responded on social media to a British professor and former conservative politician, Rory Stewart, who criticized Vance’s comments as a “bizarre take on John 15:12–13” and as “less Christian and more pagan tribal.” (The Bible verse referenced by Stewart reads “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”). 

Stewart’s reference to this verse, and its relevance to the point he was labouring to make, was not and is not altogether clear. Perhaps because of that fact, he then referred to the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37), applying the story as a legitimation of foreign aid.

Vance curtly responded to Stewart’s confusing comments with, “just google ordo amoris”!

The reaction that has flowed from these two interviews has been discordant. On the one hand, there has been some approval, a positive nodding of the heads from some theological and political circles.

On the other there has been clear disapproval from the Catholic leadership. Some responses have on the other hand fallen in between, seeking to qualify Vance’s response. 

J.D. Vance, Vice-President of the USA

Regarding the first, the theological publication First Things included an article entitled “JD Vance States the Obvious about Ordo Amoris” by James Orr, Associate Professor of Religion at Cambridge, and notably, UK Chair of the conservative Edmund Burke Foundation. Orr argued that Stewart’s appropriation of the Good Samaritan was mistaken, in as much as its message is not that  one should help all victims wherever they may be, but that we must care for those who fall within the compass of our practical concern. 

In keeping with this take, he points out the Greek word for neighbour in the New Testament is πλησίον (plēsion), which is derived directly from πλησίος (plēsios), meaning “near” or “close by.” Apparently then, according to Orr, it is proximity that makes neighbours our objects of care and attention. 

In contrast to Orr, the Catholic leadership has shown notable dissatisfaction with Vance’s interpretation. Pope Francis, attributing Vance’s motivation and appropriation of Ordo Amoris to the Trump Administration’s defensive armoury for deportation of non-citizens without due process, said to the US bishops on February 10th that “an authentic rule of law is verified precisely in the dignified treatment that all people deserve, especially the poorest and most marginalized”. He averred that such policy and practice “does not impede the development of a policy that regulates orderly and legal migration”. 

Pope Francis

In other words, good policy can and must include dignity for such people. Targeting Vance’s take on Aquinas within the context of Christian social ethics, he continued that “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups. He proffered, “the human person is not just a mere individual, relatively expansive, with some philanthropic feelings”. As if to ensure the point could not be missed, he added, that the “true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the ‘Good Samaritan’… that is, by meditating on the love that builds fraternity open to all without exception”. 

Pressing the point further, it is widely understood that Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Vatican Secretary of State and confidant of Francis, was later tasked with speaking to Vance to ensure that there could be no ambiguity or misunderstanding as to the Holy Pontiff’s point. Moreover, Cardinal Robert Prevost, prior to his recent election as pope, posted a tweet on February 13th, sharing several links to articles critical of Vance’s take on Ordo Amoris. Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV, has had a long history of working among the poor in northern Peru, passionately supporting the rights of those who seek lives of dignity.

2. THINKING THROUGH THE CATHOLIC TRADITION

So, what to make of this?

On the one hand, the US administration lays hold of the writings of Thomas Aquinas, Doctor of the Catholic Church (referred to hereafter simply as Thomas, in keeping with Catholic academic tradition).

The US Administration took hold of the words of Thomas for its own purposes, seeking to legitimise its policy and practices regarding immigrants deemed illegals, while the Catholic leadership expresses its annoyance at what it considers the abuse of Church teaching, pressed intoservice in an attack upon the vulnerable. 

In the following paragraphs, I shall examine two things: first, Thomas’ theology: setting it in context, explaining its strengths and limitations. Second, I shall set out the developments in Catholic instruction since Thomas: the movement from neo-Thomism to modern Catholic theology, and particularly the Social Teachings of the Catholic Church, of which Vance seems unaware, despite their more recent genesis in Western theological and moral discussion.

A. THE WORLD VIEW OF THOMAS AQUINAS, 1225–1274: SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ETHICS AS A ‘RIGHT ORDERING’

Thomas Aquinas (1225—1274), Dominican friar who was canonized in 1323, depicted in the panel of an altarpiece
from Ascoli Piceno in Italy, by Carlo Crivelli (15th century)

Thomas Aquinas’ world view unsurprisingly reflects the mediaeval age in which he lived but builds upon it in unique ways. His thinking was one of the greatest attempts of Mediaeval Scholasticism after the fall of the Roman Empire to unite in one body knowledge and revelation, philosophy and theology.

For Thomas, the human being is by nature a social animal. In speaking in this way, hedraws from the inspiration of Aristotle, most of whose writings had only been rediscovered by the western church a little earlier, between 1150 and 1250, stimulating an explosion of intellectual energy. Additional to Thomas’ appreciation of the social nature of the human being, he holds a view of society as firmly ordered and hierarchical; and this, according to his understanding of the Divine plan. The whole structure of things reflects what Thomas considered the natural order of humanity as created by God.

Ernst Troeltsch, an early sociologist of religion, in his classic Social Teaching of the Christian Churches (1911), interpreted Thomas’ way of seeing things – what we call the ‘Thomist ethic’ – as the ultimate expression of an “ecclesiastical unity of civilization”. Thomas’ ethic touched every element of mediaeval life, framed by its division between nature and supernature. It furnished a theoretical justification for social hierarchy, insisting upon an ethical purpose for each social role and place.

In essence, the church with its treasury of merit and sacraments, provided the means of grace through which the temporal life gained eternal meaning. From a sociological point of view, as J. Philip Wogaman puts it, “the system made it possible for there to be a unity of civilization (my italics), encompassing not only ‘ordinary’ Christians whose faith was inevitably corrupted by the world, but also those who sought the purer morality and spirituality of monastic life.” 

But was this social ethic, this hierarchy of living, a strict top-down affair, that ‘softly’legitimized injustice? On this question, opinion is split. Some subscribe to the view that Thomas’ ethic was a distinct advance upon hitherto mediaeval arrangements.

To the extent that all aspects of society served specified ends – the highest ranks serving those beneath them, and the lowest serving their superiors – a basic form of mutuality was envisaged, grounded in the common good. Such an arrangement it is argued, relieved the mediaeval system of its worst features. 

Others, however, subscribe to the opposite view: that Thomas does little more than defend the pattern of living of thirteenth century Europe, holding that pattern as proper for all societies and times. Both sides are probably correct. Thomas was no social radical, although he was a man of great intellectual acumen, as he created a synthesis of thought of the pagan philosopher Aristotle and the early Church Father, Augustine

Turning to Thomas’ political ethic, Thomas sees the state or political community as a “perfect” society, in the sense that it has all the means necessary to fulfil its appointed purpose of the common good, by which he means material development and the pursuit of virtue. It must be added that this includes coercive force to restrain vice and evil, to ensure the peace of the whole. 

But let us be clear about the power of state coercion! For Thomas is no simple authoritarian.

He pragmatically understands that not all vices can be expungedwithout at times generating more problems. As such, he holds that the state must never attempt to do what cannot be done effectively.

So, overall, both Thomas’ social and political ethics are grounded in a special ordering;certainly conservative when contrasted with western modernity, nevertheless, moderate in that Thomas sees that the state has its limits.

B. ORDO AMORIS: THE RIGHT ORDERING OF LOVE?

On the one hand, the US administration lays hold of the writing of Thomas Aquinas, Doctor of the Catholic Church, for its own purposes, seeking to legitimise its policy and practices regarding immigrants deemed illegals, while the Catholic leadership expresses its annoyance at what it considers the abuse of Church teaching, pressed intoservice in an attack upon the vulnerable. 

In the following paragraphs, I shall examine two things: first, Thomas’ theology: setting it in context, explaining its strengths and limitations. Second, I shall set out the developments in Catholic instruction since Thomas: the movement from neo-Thomism to modern Catholic theology, and particularly the Social Teachings of the Catholic Church, of which Vance seems unaware, despite their more recent genesis in Western theological and moral discussion.

And so, to Ordo Amoris, the right ordering of love within Thomas’ social and political ethics! The problem as I see it, is that his attempt to affirm this principle has its difficulties. In large part, this is so, because of his approach in assuming a hierarchy of obligation. Let us explore this.

For Thomas, love of and for God stands above all else in the hierarchy of love. From there in Ordo Amoris, Thomas orders or grades all other loves based on the just claims that a person may make upon another’s love for them. Here lies the seed for the idea that we owe a debt of love to those in closest proximity to us, for they are entitled to such an expectation. 

For Thomas, to neglect those nearest to us, on the pretext of loving more broadly and generously those who are afar, is not to really exercise love at all. As V.J. Tarantino explains through the story of Lazarus in the Gospel of Luke, “To skip over Lazarus on the doorstep [in order] to volunteer at the charity auction, is at least to some degree a matter of self-satisfaction”, [rather than love]”.

But what is the difficulty here? Let us name it! The point is that Thomas’ undertaking to establish theoretical rules for whom we are to prioritize in love, is tricky. Yes, Thomas does indeed maintain that a man should love his fellow citizens before the stranger; his father before his mother; both parents before his wife and children; and, before all non-family outsiders, his civic ruler. 

However, this rule-bound way of operating appears to be deficient: first as mentioned earlier, because love is explained in terms of what is owed, but second because his thought is so mechanistic, so duty driven, ignoring the very nature of human love, which is altogether a more spontaneous, impromptu, Spirit led thing.

Joseph Ratzinger, better known as Pope Benedict XVI (2005–2013) in his stand-out encyclical Deus Caritas Est (God is Love) makes exactly this point: that love is not about duty bound commandments, imposed from outside of the human person, but rather a freely bestowed experience beginning with God, which by its very character drives us to share itintuitively with others. 

Pope Benedict XVI (left) and his successor Pope Francis (right)

Pope Francis (2013–2025) says something similar by way of application of Benedict’s insight. In his encyclical Fratelli Tutti (On Fraternity and Social Friendship), as he writes about the story of the Good Samaritan, he emphasizes that the priest and the Levite were most concerned with their duties as religious professionals.

Their structured social roles and their structured ethics, which determined who would enjoy a higher place as beneficiaries of their love, blinded them to the distraction of the man on the roadside, who simply did not fit. Love, as they understood it, was a duty owed to specific groups, not something to be freely, graciously, injudiciously lived out.

3. THOMAS: A TRIAL BALANCE

What then may we conclude about Thomas’ approach to the ethics of love? While love of and for God remains the genesis of everything, nevertheless the ordering of love which follows from it, is bound to and limited by the social and political structures of which Thomas was a part.

On the other hand, there is no sense in Thomas that love is simply a limited quantity that is to be parcelled out to those close to us, with little or nothing left for those in need; that there is only so much that can go around. He does understand order – after all he was a systematic theologian and carries his systematization into everything he writes – but to assume, as Vance does, that he would give his blessing to mass deportation, and this without legal due process, goes too far. 

So, is there anything missing in Thomas? I think there is: the extraordinary liberality, largesse, the remarkable prodigality of the Gospel. In the broad scheme of things, Thomas does not manage to reflect the richness of the Good News. Tarantino puts it so well: “the erring sheep…preferred to the ninety-nine obedient sheep; the worker who commences at the final hour…compensated in equal measure to the one who laboured from daybreak; the tax collectors and the prostitutes…entering Heaven; the last [being] first; and God himself [giving] his only Son”.

4. BACK TO J.D. VANCE AND HIS APPROPRIATION OF THOMAS

In this paper I have sought to answer the question whether the American Vice President J.D. Vance is justified in harnessing Thomas’ ordo amoris for his political purposes: namely forced mass deportations of people without due process from U.S. territory. 

My conclusion is that Thomas does not deliver such justification, but nor is Ordo Amoris adequate in and of itself to provide a definitive answer one way or the other for modern Christian ethics. Rather, to answer the question, one needs to turn to more recent moral theology of the Catholic tradition. I refer to Catholic Social Teachings, which I shall examine in the next essay.

Elisha and Naaman (2 Kings 5; Pentecost 4C)

During the long season after Pentecost in Year C, the lectionary includes a range of stories and oracles from the prophetic texts of Hebrew Scripture. The first three come from the books bearing the title of Kings—although the contents of these two books canvass more than the kings of Israel; prophets figure prominently at key points in the story. 

Two of these passages are well-known because Jesus refers to them in the sermon he delivered at Nazareth: Elijah and the widow at Zarephath, and Elisha and the Syrian army commander, Naaman. Elijah is sent to a faithful woman, who perhaps typically remains unnamed; Elisha is sent to faithful man, identified by name as Naaman (Luke 4:25–27). 

Both characters demonstrate trust in the stories told about them. The woman trusted Elijah when he said, “first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son” (1 Ki 17:13). She did this, and there was enough for her and her son, and for Elijah “for many days … the jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail” (2 Ki 17:15–16).

The army commander (eventually) trusted Elisha when he said, “go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean” (2 Ki 5:10). After an initial reluctance, Naaman did as the prophet said, and he was healed; “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean” (2 Ki 5:14).

The woman, who was not an Israelite (Zarephath is in Sidon, a Gentile territory) is of low social status; the army commander, of course, is a high status person, even if he is a foreigner, as a Syrian. Jesus alienates his audience in Nazareth by focussing his attention on God’s merciful care for foreigners like the widow of Sidon and the soldier of Syria, regardless of their social status—and on the way each one of these foreigners modelled trusting obedience. As Luke reports, his audience was not impressed! 

See more at 

We hear the second of these stories this coming Sunday: the encounter between the prophet Elisha and the general Naaman is what is in the Hebrew Scriptures passage proposed by the lectionary. The story comes after Elisha has taken on the role of prophet in the kingdom of Israel, following on from Elijah. Elisha asked Elijah to grant him a double share of his spirit (2 Ki 2:9); Elijah agreed, and after Elijah departed, a company of prophets declared “the spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha” (2:15).

So, as I noted in last week’s blog post, Elisha performs miracles that replicate those performed earlier by Elijah; but he does more than Elijah, with an abundance of miraculous deeds. This particular miracle is given more space than any other miracle that either prophet performs.

The early and substantive miracle of Elijah, his reviving the widow ‘s son (1 Ki 17), is told in eight verses; the story of Elisha and Naaman (2 Ki 5) takes up fourteen verses, but the story continues for another thirteen verses, detailing the consequences for Elisha’s servant Gehazi after his intervention into the sequence of events. 

The lectionary, of course, does not offer all of the elements of this long narrative. We hear, firstly, the opening two verses which introduce Naaman and his situation; we then skip to verse 6, to hear the course of events leading to the healing of Naaman. Whilst verse 2 also introduces a young Israelite girl who had been taken captive to serve Naaman’s wife, we do not hear her role in the narrative offered by the lectionary (vv.3–5). The lectionary, unfortunately, is good at minimising or informing female characters in the stories it includes.

As for Naaman, we learn much and observe much during the course of events. Naaman is introduced in a distinctive way. He is a “mighty warrior”, a commander “of the army of the king of Aram”—that is, a foreigner—who was “in high favour with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram” (5:1). Aram was a province in Syria, to the northeast of Israel, with Damascus as a key city. The province is perhaps best known through the fact that its name forms the basis of the language which came to be the dominant tongue across the Middle East: Aramaic. 

See https://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/ancient-cultures/ancient-near-eastern-world/what-is-aramaic/#gf_1

In the days of Israel’s kings and prophets, foreigners were inevitably regarded as enemies, to be fought, subdued, and held captive. The regular battles recorded throughout the books of Samuel and Kings attest to this, and many psalms also reflect this deep-seated antagonism.

One psalmist sings “rise up, O Lord, in your anger; lift yourself up against the fury of my enemies” (Ps 7:9), another affirms that “surely God is my helper … he will repay my enemies for their evil” (Ps54:4–5), while yet another celebrates at length: “you made my enemies turn their backs to me, and those who hated me I destroyed. They cried for help, but there was no one to save them … I beat them fine, like dust before the wind; I cast them out like the mire of the streets” (Ps 18:40–42). 

In the NRSV, no less than ten psalms have been given titles which include the words “Deliverance from Enemies” (Pss 4, 5,  10, 13, 31, 35, 59, 70, 140, 143). It was a standard element, it would seem, that was to be found in temple worship and in the prayers of faithful people, as these psalms attest.

This is one factor that helps explain the intractability of national relationships in the Middle East today; centuries of antagonism and conflict have led to hatred and demonising of the “other”. There is no clear and simple way back from this deeply-ingrained perspective, held by Jew and Arab alike.

In the context provided by these psalms, the celebration of Naaman as a military commander whose victory was enabled by the Lord God of Israel is striking. Whether Naaman was an historical person or not cannot be determined; his actual existence is as secure, or as fragile, as the existence of any other figure in the narratives found in the grand saga of Israel in these biblical books. There are no known references to him in sources outside the biblical texts.

To be sure, the story, first told by storytellers and then passed on through the growing oral tradition, would have struck a distinctive note in ancient Israel, given this ingrained antagonism towards foreigners—especially those in military service. By the time the Deuteronomic History was compiled and published, the Israelites had already experienced the beneficence of Cyrus, King of Persia. Under Cyrus—declared by the Lord in Second Isaiah to be “my shepherd [who] shall carry out all my purpose” as the Lord’s anointed (Isa 44:28, 45:1)—Israel had experienced a positive action by a foreign ruler. Naaman’s victory, empowered by the Lord God, would have had a resonance with that experience for this who heard, or read, his story.

But Naaman is also introduced as a mezora, a person affected by the skin disease tzaraath  (2 Ki 5:1). This latter term is traditionally rendered as “leprosy”, but it is clear that it was not at all what today we know as Hansen’s disease, a highly-contagious disease in which a bacterial infection can damage some or all of a person’s skin, nerves, eyes, and their respiratory tract. Biblical leprosy was, rather, a disfiguration of a person’s skin—usually manifested in white patches of skin—which rendered a person ritually unclean. There are a range of prescriptions for dealing with this disease in Lev 13–14.

Naaman’s condition renders him unclean in Israelite society. It is his his slave girl (taken into service from her home in Israel) who suggests to him that he might visit “the prophet who is in Samaria”, for “he would cure him of his leprosy” (5:3). Naaman goes to Elisha with the blessing of his king, whose army had previously been at war with the Israelite army (1 Ki 20, 22); now, however, Israel was battling the Moabites to the south (2 Ki3), so Aram was a beneficent neighbour.

The process that Elisha sets for Naaman to follow is symbolically rich and practically powerful. “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean” (5:10), the prophet commands him. The “seven times” signals a perfect, completed process, typical of Israelite practices (“seven times” appears four times in the ritual of Lev 14, and another five times in other ritual elsewhere in Leviticus).

Summary of Lev 13, from https://www.2belikechrist.com/articles/leviticus-13-summary-in-5-minutes

This process is far simpler than the required ritual for Israelites: Leviticus prescribes a far more complex process. It begins with an investigation by the priest to determine whether the person is in fact unclean (Lev 13, with multiple options for consideration set out in the first 46 verses, and then 13 further verses relating to clothing and houses!)

If the disease is still active, a purification process then ensues in which  “two living clean birds and cedarwood and crimson yarn and hyssop” are to be brought to the priest, who will then slaughter one bird and “take the living bird with the cedarwood and the crimson yarn and the hyssop, and dip them and the living bird in the blood of the bird that was slaughtered over the fresh water” (Lev 14:4–6). This blood is then sprinkled seven times on the one who is to be cleansed of the leprous disease; “then he shall pronounce him clean, and he shall let the living bird go into the open field” (Lev 14:7).

A further process is then required, with the person to be healed washing, shaving, living apart for a week, shaving again, and then taking another collection of items for this ritual: “two male lambs without blemish, and one ewe lamb in its first year without blemish, and a grain offering of three-tenths of an ephah of choice flour mixed with oil, and one log of oil” (Lev 14:10). Another ritual of sacrifice follows, with detailed instructions given (Lev 14:11–20). It is complex! 

The response of Naaman, in the light of this complex process expected of Israelites, is striking. He is impatient! He had actually been expecting an instantaneous cure, and wondered why he could not simply was in a river closer to his home (2 Ki 5:12). In his anger, he dismisses Elisha as weak and ineffective (5:11–12). But after an intercession from his servants, he dutifully obeys, and the result (after seven immersions) is dramatic: “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean” (5:14).  Naaman returns to Elisha, to praise the God who has enabled the prophet to heal him and to offer a gift (5:15). 

Why does the lectionary end the section of the text offered for this Sunday (5:1–14) before the following verse? Surely to end the section with the climactic confession, “I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel” would have been quite powerful! Perhaps it stops abruptly to avoid the apparently embarrassing words of Naaman, “please accept a present from your servant” (v.15b). This was to be expected in the patron—client society of antiquity; is it felt a little crass for modern ears, or does it unhelpfully suggest that grateful parishioners today should shower their ministers with gifts in gratitude? (That would be contrary to the Code of Ethics that I am bound to operate by.)

Or perhaps because the last part of this verse introduces a whole new act in the story of Naaman and Elisha? The suggestion of a gift for the prophet, his stern refusal (vv.16–18) and his final word of peace (v.19), all lead on into the final part of the long story told in this chapter. It takes us to Gehazi, the interfering servant of Elisha, and the consequences of his actions which are recounted in vv.20–27. Again, the lectionary ignores this part of the story; but its inclusion in the Deuteronomic History indicates that it had significance for the Israelites in subsequent years, and especially in the years after the Exile, when this lengthy document was put into a final form.

Elisha and his servant Gehazi

Elisha, in the end, is required to pronounce judgement over the miscreant servant. Gehazi intervenes, seeking additional money from Naaman—who willingly gives more than what is asked for. “Please give them a talent of silver and two changes of clothing”, the servant begs; Naaman responds by giving him “two talents of silver in two bags, with two changes of clothing” (5:22–23). So gratified was the Syrian for his healing that he gave in abundance.

But Elisha knows what his servant has done; “did I not go with you in spirit when someone left his chariot to meet you?”, he says (5:26). And so the story ends with a clear reversal: “the leprosy of Naaman shall cling to you, and to your descendants forever”, the prophet tells his servant (5:27). And so it does. The man who was once leprous is now healed, for “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean” (5:14); whereas Gehazi now bears the stigma of Naaman’s leprosy, and as he departs from Elisha, “he left his presence leprous, as white as snow” (5:27). 

In later Jewish tradition, the figure of Gehazi serves as a type for those who are avaricious in their dealings with others, as Gehazi was. An article in the Jewish Encyclopedia describes how he is portrayed in the Babylonian Talmud: “When Naaman went to Elisha, the latter was studying the passage concerning the eight unclean “sheraẓim” (creeping things; comp. Shab. xiv. 1).

“Therefore when Gehazi returned after inducing Naaman to give him presents, Elisha, in his rebuke, enumerated eight precious things which Gehazi had taken, and told him that it was time for him to take the punishment prescribed for one who catches any of the eight sheraẓim, the punishment being in his case leprosy. The four lepers at the gate announcing Sennacherib’s defeat were Gehazi and his three sons (b.Soṭ 47a).”

Gehazi is also identified as one of four individuals who deny the resurrection of the dead and have no portion in the world to come (b.Sanh 90a). See https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/6557-gehazi

In a Christian context, we might also note that the dynamics of this story in 2 Kings 5 foreshadow the dynamics of true faith spoken of by a later teacher in Israel: “whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35); “the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like” (Luke 22:26); “blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled; blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh … woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry; woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep” (Luke 6:21,25). What a pity the lectionary has omitted this potent conclusion to a well-known story. 

See also