OUR CONGREGATION OF KINDNESS

Rev. Bill crews spoke to ‘his man on the ground’, Nelson Scott, about the real stories unfolding in the wake of devastating floods in Nepal.

A hospital becomes a meeting place for those with missing friends and family, the uncertainty hanging in the air, and a country coming together to support their own.

Listen to the 2GB radio interview below.

Nelson Scott on the ground in Nepal, at the foot of the Himalayas. 

By Akelo Michael

19 August 2026

Today we honour the humanitarian workers who continue to stand alongside communities facing conflict, displacement and crisis. This year’s World Humanitarian Day theme, Strengthening Global Solidarity and Empowering Local Communities, reminds us that effective humanitarian action begins with people closest to the challenges, responding to the needs of their own communities.

At Bill Crews International, we are privileged to work alongside local sister organisations whose staff and volunteers continue to serve others, often in incredibly difficult circumstances. Their leadership, resilience and commitment are what make lasting change possible.

One of those people is Laura Htway, Program Manager at our sister organisation PlayOnside, which works alongside migrant and refugee communities on the Thailand–Myanmar border.

Standing alongside communities

In and around Mae Sot, communities affected by conflict and displacement continue to face challenges including access to education, protection, livelihoods and psychosocial wellbeing. PlayOnside uses the transformative power of sport to create safe spaces where young people can connect, build resilience and develop a sense of belonging.

Humanitarian work extends beyond responding to immediate emergencies. It is also about dignity, stability and creating opportunities for people to shape their own futures.

From refugee to humanitarian leader

Laura’s connection to this work is personal. She left Myanmar in 2008 and arrived in a refugee camp when she was ten years old. At 19, she began assisting female coaches at PlayOnside. She eventually became the organisation’s first female coach and has since progressed into program management. Her journey reflects the importance of locally led humanitarian action. People closest to a crisis are not simply recipients of support; they can become the people leading the response.

Through PlayOnside, young people are given opportunities to develop leadership, while girls are encouraged to participate and lead. As Laura puts it, “Coaching isn’t just about skills, but leadership”.

The power of partnership

Through the support of Bill Crews International, PlayOnside is able to continue delivering programs for communities along the Thailand–Myanmar border. As Laura explained, “We cannot do those things if we don’t have the support from you guys.”

BCF’s support allows locally led organisations to continue the work they know their communities need: creating safe spaces, strengthening resilience and giving young people opportunities to participate and lead.

What does humanitarian action look like?

Humanitarian action can look different from what we sometimes imagine. It can look like a safe space where a young person can play, connect and feel that they belong. It can look like a girl seeing a woman in a leadership role and recognising that she can lead too. It can look like a child who arrived in a refugee camp becoming a humanitarian leader herself.

During our discussion with Laura, she mentioned the importance of the programs for young girls, saying “[it’s] so important to have women in organisations because (it gives) the girls someone to look up to…. it will encourage them to imagine a future with hope”. 

This World Humanitarian Day, we thank Laura, the PlayOnside team and humanitarian workers everywhere whose dedication makes an extraordinary difference in the lives of others. Humanitarian action is ultimately about people — protecting dignity, supporting hope and walking alongside communities when they need it most.

This contribution was submitted via the Congregation of Kindness.

If you have a big idea or a story to tell about how you’re contributing kindness in this world, we’d love to read it.

Submit your contribution here.

Sydney, Australia – May 2026

A new anthology, Voices of Unity: Poetry, Time & the Divine, has been published following a moving intercultural and interfaith poetry gathering hosted by The Rev. Bill Crews Foundation.

This anthology brings together voices from diverse spiritual and cultural traditions, including Druze, Indian, Kurdish, Mandaean and Tibetan communities. Through poetry, chant, song, sacred reflection and personal expression, the collection honours the deep human longing for unity, compassion and the Divine.

The anthology emerged from Voices of Unity: Poetry, Time & the Divine, a gathering created to offer communities a sacred and welcoming space to share their wisdom traditions through the universal language of poetry. Hosted within the spirit of Rev Bill Crews’ lifelong commitment to kindness, inclusion and dignity, the event invited participants to move beyond division and celebrate the beauty of cultural and spiritual diversity in Australia.

The collection includes original and traditional offerings, community reflections, photographs, acknowledgements and insights from the judging process. It also captures the warmth of the gathering itself – where poetry became a bridge between communities, and where voices from different traditions were received with equal reverence.

Rev. Bill Crews, whose work has long championed the dignity of all people, supported the gathering as part of The Rev. Bill Crews Foundation’s broader mission to build community, nurture belonging and bring people together across lines of culture, faith and circumstance.

Edited by Dr Anjalika Wijesurendra, it is both a record of a beautiful event and a living offering of unity – “This anthology honours the sacred gifts each community brought forward. It reflects the possibility of Australia as a place where diverse traditions can meet not in separation, but in shared reverence, friendship and hope.”

The gathering was supported by community leaders, participating poets and performers from the Sabian Mandaean community, Tibetan community, Indian community, Druze community, and the Kurdish community, the judges, volunteers and The Crews Café, whose vegetarian and vegan menu helped create an atmosphere of warmth, hospitality and conversation.

Voices of Unity: Poetry, Time & the Divine stands as a testament to the power of poetry to soften boundaries, deepen understanding and reveal the shared light within diverse traditions.

For media enquiries, interviews or further information, please contact:

Dr Anjalika Wijesurendra

Editor, Voices of Unity: Poetry, Time & the Divine

The Bill Crews Congregation of Kindness

Email: AnjalikaW@billcrews.org

Hi Everyone,

My friend Gerry prepared and read this out during our church service on Sunday, 26th April 2026.

I asked if it was ok to share it with you. I thought it was a great contribution to our Congregation of Kindness.

I’d love your contributions too.

Why We Must Never Forget

It is almost 81 years since the war in Europe ended and, all but 10 days, I have lived through all of them so have had a life free from any of the dangers or sacrifices that come with war. I know there have been lots of wars elsewhere, but they were always elsewhere.

That’s 3 and possibly 4 generations that have never experienced not just war but the necessary sacrifices that touch everyone.

If we have no experience of war, can we really understand peace? I worry that peace has come to mean a life being able to enjoy all the benefits that have come with these 81 years. Not to mention the freedoms we take for granted.

There has never been so much wealth and prosperity in the world as today, even if it is not shared equitably. But, at the same time, there has never been so much tyranny, oppression and suffering around the world in my lifetime as today.

Last week, Bill asked why do we continue to have wars? Do we never learn?

I have no profound answer to that question, other than to ask if we just forget. Forget that the forces of darkness (I could say evil) have never gone away. What Conrad called the Heart of Darkness that kills unarmed protesters or those with different beliefs and women and children.

By accident or design, modern warfare has increasingly targeted the innocent. In addition, cyberwarfare and economic warfare are just other ways to create misery.

At some point we are going to have to ask ourselves, “what is peace?” Does it mean selling lots of stuff to them? Or needing their oil or critical minerals being able to buy really cheap clothing? And the rest we don’t want to know.

On Anzac Day we remember those who died for our country and fighting for what was right. But for the rest of the year, we really don’t want to know about those who returned but who still sacrificed much. So returned veterans are three times more likely to be homeless and close to double the rate of suicide.

A quote from Deitrich Bonhoffer, a German minister executed in the last days of the war for speaking out about the Nazis, “Silence in the face of evil is evil itself.”

A poem by Siegfried Sassoon, an English writer who fought in WWI before protesting against the scale of slaughter on the front.

At The Cenotaph
I saw the Prince of Darkness, with his Staff,
Standing bare headed by the Cenotaph:
Unostentatious and respectful, there
He stood and offered up the following prayer.
‘Make them forget, O Lord, what this Memorial
Means; their discredited ideas revive;
Breed new belief that War is purgatorial
Proof of the pride and power of being alive;
Men’s biologic urge to readjust
The Map of Europe, Lord of Hosts, increase;
Lift up their hearts in large destructive lust;
And crown their heads with blind vindictive Peace.’
The Prince of Darkness to the Cenotaph
Bowed. As he walked away, I heard him laugh.

By Di King and Pam Tremlett

One of the guests associated with the Bill Crews foundation has a history of unresolved grief following the death of his partner a few years ago. He required an Admission to a mental health institution for several weeks and ongoing medication for depression.

Over the past month, around the anniversary of his partner’s death, he has self-medicated with alcohol and had also been taken off his antidepressant medication. After a week of self-medication, he called an ambulance and was taken to hospital where he spent some time in the emergency department.

After discharge, he lasted about two weeks before he again felt the need to self-medicate. After a few days, we had not heard from him and decided to do a welfare check. We found him staggering by the car carrying a four and a half litre cask of wine. If he had got back to his unit, he would not have answered the door. His clothing was dishevelled, the front of his t-shirt stained with red wine and some on his face, which is very unlike him.

He agreed to go to the hospital with us. He could barely walk and needed a wheelchair to get into the emergency department. He was admitted into a bed in the emergency department and, after an assessment, was promised a bed in the Mental Health unit.

A change of heart…

After a few hours, he was about to be transferred to that Mental Health bed when it was decided, due to his cardiac involvement, he needed further medical treatment. He was transferred to an acute bed for a coronary artery angiogram. He had to wait a couple of days for that to happen. Upon returning to the ward that evening, a doctor came in and said, “I will give you a Taxi fare home, or someone can pick you up in the morning by 9 am,” as they needed the bed.

In the morning, his unrelated next-of-kin contacted the ward and discussed the matter of his discharge with the Nurse unit manager, who realised he needed further investigation.

It was found that his blood levels were severely abnormal and he needed a blood transfusion. He was also found to have two gastric ulcers. Whilst these tests were being carried out, he was treated by the Mental Health team who continued to promise him a bed in the Mental Health area as soon as it was okayed by his medical team.

After he was cleared by the acute medical teams, he was promised the next available bed in the medical Mental Health unit. Even his attending Cardiologist said he needed a few weeks in the mental health unit.

The Mental Health team came late that afternoon and said he would be discharged in the morning. This required his next-of-kin to have a late-night shopping trip to Kmart to buy him new bedding.

His unrelated next-of-kin, one being 79 and the other being 81, fortunately had done a forensic clean of his unit, removing all signs of blood, alcohol and melena. However, they had not had time to complete the washing of his bed clothes.

The next morning, he was discharged and taken to his unit where he has stayed for the last week, absolutely overwhelmed and disappointed with the situation.

Upon discharge, he was given a couple of days of medication and told to see his doctor for a prescription and repeat medication. To my knowledge, this has not happened and there has been no follow-up of him.

The long wait for a bed

I would like to compare this with another person who is also a guest of the Bill Crews foundation. He had a fire in his unit block that affected his unit and caused him to have an acute mental health breakdown. He was transported, with a Police officer, to the emergency department and was admitted for several weeks to the mental health unit.

His unrelated next-of-kin cleaned his unit of all signs of the fire before being discharged.  He was taken home to his unit by the social workers to reassure him that everything was alright and that the unit was fit for living.

However, in the past 12 months the same person has attended the emergency department more than once and needed a Mental Health bed, but was instead offered a recliner chair in the emergency department for three or four days. On the second occasion, he was offered a bed in the emergency department for three or four days and no Mental Health bed was available. After a few days on heavy medication, he got sick of waiting and discharged himself.

As the care is a long-term process, there is a much slower turnover. It is not fair for anyone when beds are promised and never eventuate.

The Mental Health system needs a total overhaul with more money for beds, staff and follow-up urgently.

This story was submitted via the Congregation of Kindness.

If you have a big idea or a story to tell about how you’re contributing kindness in this world, we’d love to read it.

Submit your contribution here.

By Roger Joyce

On a day in Australia when everyone is talking about war, I’d prefer to talk about love… actually.

So began an article I wrote on a screenwriting blog, nearly 20 years ago. I’m reminded of my own words, for it was ANZAC day again on the weekend and for the fortieth year in a row, there was a sense of disquiet on my Western Front.

If I were invited to be a contributor to the Festival of Dangerous Ideas, my topic would be something along the lines of “what’s the statute of limitations on war remembrance?” or “when is it okay to stop remembering?” I think of this as a “dangerous idea” as of all of the topics I’ve ever got into conversation or robust debate about in this country, anything that whiffs of alternative thinking in regards “ANZAC” is taboo. You can argue about the indigenous population and first settlement, pass the hot potato of republicanism and the flag, debate gender identity, but the questioning of ANZAC is much more of a love that dare not speak its name.

I’m reminded of the quote by the cricketer Bill “Tiger” O’Reilly: “…the world frowns upon those who spit on statues.”

A different kind of war remembrance

I’m English by birth, but migrated here, to Sydney, in 1987, not quite, but almost on the eve of ANZAC Day. That first 25^th April, I vividly remember thinking “wow, this is a country that really embraces its war remembrance.” Maybe it’s because I’d come off the back of 28 years of a different kind of war remembrance.

You see, for me Remembrance Day or “Poppy Day” – the closest Sunday to the 11^th of the 11^th, Armistice Day itself – is always a bleak, grey autumnal day and as a boy, I would watch the somber ceremony from the Cenotaph in Whitehall on black and white television, with my father. Elderly men wore long, dark Crombies, the military needed their greatcoats to keep out the ferocious chill that blew down from Parliament Square, all to the soundtrack of a muffled drum and the funereal march of Elgar’s Nimrod.

I wasn’t prepared for the glaring sunlight of an April morning in Sydney and grandchildren wearing medals. I also found it difficult to see elderly men deified and borne aloft on this one day and then ignored, left to their elderly shufflings for the rest of the year.

My English family’s war story is probably not unlike most of my fellow countrymen and women: my grandfather fought in the Great War, I had a great uncle who was a Spitfire pilot in WWII and my mother – then a young girl – spent frightened nights sheltering under the dining table of her south London home as the payloads of enemy aircraft fell on her and others in London; her father absent from his loved ones, out doing his job as a Metropolitan policeman. I grew up in the 1960’s on a “romantic” diet of films detailing “how we won the war”: Reach For The Sky, The Dam Busters, 633 Squadron and The Bridge On The River Kwai.

Why do we choose to remember?

For me, there are two purposes to war remembrance, two reasons why we pause and reflect: the first is gratitude, to give thanks to those men and women – our forebears – who made the ultimate sacrifice, for me, for us, so that we might lead the free life that we do. The second reason is in the hope that the grim recollection of such awful conflict might, just might prevent us from ever warring again. Alas, the second reason is but a pipe dream.

But here’s where my own idea gets potentially dangerous. In idle moments when I play that game of “If I were Prime Minister, the first thing I’d do is…”, one of the first things I’d do is put forward the idea of a moratorium on war remembrance. What if – as an experiment – for a year or two, we swapped thoughts of recollection of war for considerations of peace? Instead of all the column inches written and the minutes of airtime given to talking about, thinking about and breathing in the intoxicating Australian oxygen of ANZAC, we turned our attention to words, images and thoughts that encourage and foster peace?

I wonder when it is time to stop looking over our shoulders to worship at the altar of the past – for is not ANZAC our new religion – and to look ahead to, behold the future? I know it’s a controversial thought.

Earlier in this piece about peace, I talked of my personal “disquiet”, for that is truly what I feel. I don’t want to dismiss history, for we ignore the lessons of the past at our peril, I don’t want to ban or censor all thoughts of war for it is part of the human condition and I indulge as much as anyone. I’ve just finished reading Peter Rees’s Lancaster Men, an extraordinarily moving book about the 10,000 Australians who served with Bomber Command in Word War II; men who on returning to Australia, were accused of “hiding in England while we were doing it tough.”

So, on Saturday, this Englishman of 67 years, now an Australian of nearly 40, paused in thought, thanked those that I am greatly indebted to and turned my mind to peace and love actually.

Roger Joyce is a ghostwriter and biographer.

This story was submitted via the Congregation of Kindness.

If you have a big idea or a story to tell about how you’re contributing kindness in this world, we’d love to read it.

Submit your contribution here.