Tim Costello

I was the mayor of a city down here, St. Kilda. It’s a catchment area for those who are mentally ill, homeless, street prostitutes, and drug users. I remember standing up for [the sex workers] and asking a question: ‘Should we decriminalize street prostitution to at least give these women protection?’

I suffered a torrent of abuse from Christians—how dare I lower community standards and compromise God’s holiness, the Christian faith. And I remember thinking, ‘The church is just full of judgment.’ My reading of the Gospels is that Jesus met, mixed with, even celebrated women like that in his time.

I had at that time an offer to go into the Australian Senate which meant that I could break away from being a Baptist minister and that institutional church. I remember thinking, ‘Great, I am going to cut these ties. I’m out of there!’

Then I was asked to speak at one Easter rally— I felt reluctant. It was a Christian march through the city and I was thinking, ‘These are fine people but they still belong to this institution, the Church, that’s full of judgment. I’m over it.’

Yet, I was introduced in this way: ‘You stood up for sex workers and the Church gave you a hammering. We, the Christians here, applaud you. This is actually what the Gospel is about. You’re one of us; you speak for us.’

And suddenly I had this sense of, ‘These people are still my mob. Their commitment, their courage, their faith to stand against the things that I had experienced as judgmental I can work with. I belong here.’

And I chose not to go into the Senate. I chose to go back to ministry. That was a real crossroads, and it was probably a faith crisis mixed up with great anger with the Church, the institution.