He still uses the board to communicate his beliefs, just with maybe a little less spit and vinegar. Last Sunday, one of the board members read “Keep Gosford Nuclear Free,” a position that is unlikely to cause much controversy here. However, the other side showed that he is still not averse to a partisan blow: “put the extreme right on the terror list.”
“You get caught up in the vortex,” he said of his time in the spotlight. “People appreciate what you say and you become one of those voices.”
“Middle ground is tough,” he added, reclining in his chair, red socks visible beneath his black and white robe. “We only hear the extremes.”
With his short, spiky hair and tightly trimmed beard, Father Bower, 58, has a touch of the wombat about him – another bushy, if often sweet, Australian of the wild. He’s not afraid to swear, joke about old hangovers, or preach barefoot. He’s a priest at home in the mud of existence.
He grew up in an agricultural area north of Sydney, adopted and raised by pastoralists. His adoptive father died when Father Bower was 13, and his teenage years were mostly spent working – in the fields and as a butcher. It is a history he has never completely left behind; ‘The Ethical Omnivore’ sits on the bookshelf of his office next to religious texts.
The disruption of adoption, a fact he said he always knew but didn’t fully come to terms with until he was in his 20s, motivated him to seek God and the priesthood.
“It was part of my quest for identity,” he said. “It came with a title and a uniform.”
Many of his parishioners found Father Bower and the church where he has served as rector for more than two decades by seeing the messages on the sign outside – not by coming by the road, but by spotting them on Facebook.