Obituaries — Sir Paul Reeves ONZ, GCMG, GCVO, QSO

I seek leave to move a motion without notice on the passing of former Governor-General of New Zealand Sir Paul Reeves.

💬 Mr SPEAKER: Is there are objection to that course being followed? There is none.

I move, That the House express its sympathy and condolences to the family of Sir Paul Reeves, and pay tribute to the outstanding contribution Sir Paul made to this country. The Rt Rev. and the Hon Sir Paul Alfred Reeves passed away in Auckland on Sunday, 14 August at the age of 78. It is with great sadness that I heard of Sir Paul’s passing, for he was one of the country’s greatest statesmen and admired by so many. I had the privilege of meeting Sir Paul on a number of occasions and he was a fine man.

Sir Paul trained for the Anglican priesthood and in 1980 became Primate and Archbishop of New Zealand. In 1985 he became New Zealand’s first Māori Governor-General. His tenure as Governor-General was one of inclusiveness and compassion. He modelled his governorship on the life of a bishop, saying: “A bishop travels. A bishop stands alongside his people and searches for common ground.”

Sir Paul’s contribution to New Zealand did not end when he left Government House. He spent another two decades serving at the highest level, and for this the people of New Zealand are forever indebted to him. He was Anglican Observer at the United Nations, he observed elections in Ghana and South Africa, he helped write constitutions for Fiji and Ghana, and he chaired the Nelson Mandela Trust. He was awarded New Zealand’s highest honour, the Order of New Zealand, in 2007. This was New Zealand’s chance to formally recognise his outstanding dedication to this country.

The thoughts of the Government are with Sir Paul’s wife, Beverley, Lady Reeves; his three daughters, Sarah, Bridget, and Jane; his six mokopuna; and his whole family at this time. A State funeral for Sir Paul will be held this Thursday, 18 August in Auckland, and I will be attending alongside a number of members of this House. I am sure we will be joined by many New Zealanders wishing to pay tribute to Sir Paul’s life. Sir Paul’s life was a life spent giving. His contribution to this country was simply enormous, and New Zealand is a poorer place for his passing.

Today in this House we mourn the loss of a great New Zealander, Sir Paul Reeves. In his 78 years he contributed hugely to his people, to the community, and to his country, and he still had so much to give. To Lady Beverley and their children, Sarah, Bridget, and Jane, we extend our sympathies for your loss. But we also celebrate today a life of remarkable achievements. He was a boy of humble beginnings who rose to lead his church, to be the Governor-General, and to represent his country and the Commonwealth with distinction. He was the youngest-ever priest to become an Anglican bishop. He was the first church leader and the first Māori to become Governor-General. Later he served internationally with the United Nations and the Commonwealth. He headed the Nelson Mandela Foundation, and he was the Commonwealth Secretary-General’s envoy to Guyana and Fiji.

Sir Paul mixed easily with world leaders, but he was equally at home with New Zealanders from all walks of life. He was a man of considerable principle and integrity. Sir Paul always expressed himself in a calm and measured way, but underlying that was a real passion about the things that he believed in. He was not afraid to take a stand on issues that were important to him. He was one of the Citizens for Rowling in 1975, and in 1981 he openly and strongly opposed the Springbok Tour. That led some, including the then Leader of the Opposition, to express doubts about him and to oppose his appointment as Governor-General. But the way that Sir Paul carried out his role as Governor-General was, in fact, exemplary. He was a man of decency and strength of character. He spoke quietly but with deep conviction. As a Minister in the fourth Labour Government throughout his term as Governor-General, and later as Minister of Foreign Affairs in the next Government, I had many discussions with Sir Paul. He always expressed his views in a considered manner, but he expressed them forthrightly. He had enormous compassion and an unwavering commitment to social justice. When his viceregal role came to an end he continued to contribute in education as the chancellor of AUT, Auckland University of Technology, in the diplomatic and international arena, and as an advocate for his Te Ātiawa people.

With Sir Paul’s passing we have lost a very special New Zealander, a man who gave so much to his community, and a man whom we will remember as being true to his principles. We will miss him greatly. Tā Paora, haere, haere, haere.

This nation mourns the death of Sir Paul Reeves. Put simply, a tōtara has fallen in the forest. But the occasion of his passing, although deeply sad to us all, is not tragic; rather, it is a cause for national celebration of a long life uniquely well lived. Sir Paul led as large a life as was possible, full of fun, laughter, love, and achievement. His personal fulfilment, and thus his contribution, was both spiritual and secular.

Sir Paul saw himself, characteristically, as a child of the nation he loved. He once said: “I was a product of this country at a time when there was social mobility or educational opportunities available to everybody. I didn’t have the benefit of any material assets either personally or in my family. We were what you would call poor but yet I was able to go to secondary school and university. It is that question of access and the ability to match opportunities with an innate desire to achieve which is vital.”

With the passage of time, Sir Paul proved himself to be a vital person. Leadership is a subtle and elusive thing. When it is naturally present it is effortless; when it is absent it is laboured. Sir Paul had the gift of effortless leadership. He was humble, yet dignified in style. He was genuine and authentic in person. He was fearless in expressing belief. He was truly a man of integrity. Sir Paul embodied all the values for which our parties in this House strive—freedom and aspiration, equality and justice, cultural harmony, and ecological wisdom. In so doing, he united us all through simply being himself, the symbol of a nation as a whole.

I first met Sir Paul in New York, a few weeks after his arrival. He was virtually unknown in that huge, anonymous, preoccupied city, after having just been head of State in his home country. Such a transition might have grated with some, but not with Sir Paul, who found it, I think, to be something of a liberation. Once over lunch, for example, he told me of a courtesy call he had just made on the ambassador of a close neighbour. Sir Paul described his assigned mission in the new Anglican office to the UN, his hopes and aspirations, and the various challenges he was anticipating. The ambassador heard him out patiently, and then cut in and said: “Well, that’s all fine, Paul, but tell me: what was your last job in New Zealand?”.

Sir Paul did my wife and me the honour of assisting with our marriage some 20 years ago. He facilitated the arrangements for our wedding in Christchurch Cathedral, and then officiated at our New York marriage celebrations shortly thereafter. He gave a special homespun dignity that day to what was a cosmopolitan and multi-faith grouping of friends in New York. We walked from the chapel, through the streets of downtown Manhattan, to our apartment across the road from the twin towers. I recall that moment in springtime as clearly as if it were yesterday.

New Zealand has been well served with leadership over the years. Our leaders tend to be of the rugged individualist type—they who climb mountain tops and sail the Southern Ocean, crawl into crushed buildings to hold a hand, or rescue mates under military fire. Sir Paul gave us a different vision of leadership. It was a refined, softer leadership that appealed to our better selves. It combined spiritual inquiry with secular wisdom. This type of leadership is rare in this land, and we are the poorer for having lost him. Yet Sir Paul would admonish us if we were to lionise him beyond what he would take to be his natural measure, to which I would reply: “All the more reason to respect and remember you, Sir Paul.”

Let us lay to rest this great New Zealander, this humble man of our land, who spoke so thoughtfully, who stood so tall, who loved so much. Let us pay our deep respect, which we as a nation owe to Sir Paul Reeves. Let us then honour him in the manner he would wish, by resolving to live up to the standards he set.

I stand today, along with all my colleagues in the ACT Party and in this House, to pay tribute to one of our great statesmen. Sir Paul Reeves was a great New Zealander who served his country with distinction throughout his life. He served as Governor-General from 1985 to 1990, and was the first Māori and the first cleric to fill that position. Sir Paul lived a life of service to his congregation and to this nation. He was a deeply faithful man who took humble pride in his position within the Anglican Church. Sir Paul is remembered as an inspirational leader with a great sense of humour and wit—a man who was respectful, compassionate, and inclusive of others.

In 1990, as Governor-General, he hosted the first open day at Government House—a tradition that continues to this day—paving the way for greater transparency and inclusiveness in the role of the Governor-General. Following retirement as Governor-General, Sir Paul continued to serve his country at the highest level for over two decades. He served his church as well as his country as the Archbishop of the Anglican Church in New Zealand and as assistant Bishop of New York.

His life of dedication, service, and compassion holds lessons for us all. The thoughts and prayers of the ACT Party, this House, and, indeed, all New Zealanders are with his wife, Lady Beverley Reeves, his three daughters, and his six grandchildren. Our nation is the poorer for his loss.

Whatakaka te hau ki te uru

Whakataka te hau ki te tonga

Kia mākinakina ki uta

Kia mātaratara ki tai

E hī ake ana te atākura

He tio, he huka, he hauhunga

Tihei mauri ora!

Kua tanuku te toka i te whenua. Kua hinga te tōtara o te wao. Kua ngū te kaiwhakarite o te Hāhi. E Pāora, e moe. E te ringa raupā o te iwi, e te kaituitui i te tangata, e te kaikauhau o te rongopai, e te kaiwero i ngā Kāwanatanga o te motu, e te kaihāpai o Te Titiriti o Waitangi, e te kaikōrero o Irihāpeti, e te tauira o te whakaiti me te rangimārie, e te uri o Te Āti Awa, e te kaikawe o te raukura ki ngā tōpito katoa o te motu, o te ao, takoto mai, takoto mai, takoto mai. Whai atu koe e koro ki te āhuatanga o Tirikātene, whai atu i a Te Atawhai Taiaroa, a te Haunui, whai atu i ngā pīhopa, a te Manuhuia, a te Whakahuihui, whai atu i ngā mate o nā tata nei, o tērā o ngā uri o Kahungungu a Meagan, a Te Heikōkō. Nō nā tata nei te uri o Ngāti Tūwharetoa, haere koutou, haere koutou, haere koutou katoa.

Arā nō te kōrero o roto o Taranaki. He ngeri mana whenua te kōrero. Anei te kōrero: “Titiro, titiro, ki te maunga Tītōhea runga o Parihaka, Waitōtara. Ngāti Moeahu, Ngāti Haupoto. Ko te tākiritanga i te kāhu o Wikitōria, kaitōa, kaitōa. Ko Tohu, ko Te Whiti ngā manu e rua i patu te hoariri ki te rangimārie, kss auē, kss auē! Ahakoa te pāhuatanga o Parihaka, uē, uē, uē hā!”. He kōrero tēnei nō roto o Taranaki, arā, nō te whakapapa o te pīhopa e takoto mai rā ki Tāmaki-makau-rau.

He pai tonu tēnei rārangi kōrero i te mea, arā nō ngā kōrero e pā ana ki a Tā Pāora. I kōrero nā tērā o ngā kōrero mō te maunga tītōhea, ko Taranaki tērā, kākahutia e te hukahuka, e te hukapapa. He tohu tērā o te mate. Koia tēnei whai i ngā mate o Taranaki. Ko te Meringa Hōhāia tērā, ko Lindsay MacLeod tērā, ko Matarena Rau-Kūpā tērā, ko Tom Ellison tērā, ngā uri o Te Ātiawa tonu kua mate inā tata nei i te tau kua hipa ake. Kai reira anō hoki te kōrero mai mō Parihaka, te kāinga o te koroua nei, te wāhi i huihui ai ngā iwi i ngā tau kua hipa ake. Arā nō ngā marae tapu, ko Parahuka, ko Toroaānui, ko Takitūtū. Arā nō te kōrero, ko Waitōtara te wai tuku kiri o ngā mātua, ngā tūpuna e rere atu rā, mai i Parihaka, ā, ki te takutai moana. Arā nō te kōrero mō te kāhū o Wikitōria. He kōrero tērā mō te āhuatanga o Tā Paora i te wā i a ia i mau nei te kākahu o Wikitōria hai Kāwana Tianara mō te motu.

He kōrero kai reira mō Te Whiti o Rongomai rāua ko Tohu Kākahi. Tā rātau ko te kawe i tēnei kōrero, he hōnore, he kororia, he maungarongo ki te whenua, he whakaaro pai ki ngā tāngata katoa. Arā, ko te tauira tērā o tēnei mea o te rangimārie nā Tā Paora tērā i kawe ki ngā tōpito katoa o te motu. I whai ia i te āhuatanga o ngā poropiti nei. He aha he kōrero i tua atu atu? E kī ana te kōrero, i patu te hoariri ki te rangimārie. Mēnā, ka āta tiriro ki ēnei kōrero, ka noho taupatupatu ngā kōrero. Patu i te hoariri ki te rangimārie, arā, te kōrero nui. Koia Tā Paora i kawe nei te āhuatanga o te rangimārie ki te ao.

Nā, te kōrero whakamutunga, ahakoa te pāhuatanga o Parihaka—uē, uē, uē, hā! He whakamārama ake i te rangimārie o Taranaki ahakoa i patua rātau e te raupatu, e te muru o te whenua, he aha tā Taranaki? Kaua ki te hiki i te pū, kāo. Ko tā rātau, ko te kawe i te āhuatanga o te kōrero o te Whiti o Rongomai rāua ko Tohu Kākahi, he rangimārie, he rangimārie, he rangimārie. He aha tā Tā Paora? He rangimārie, he rangimārie, he whakaiti. Koinei te kōrero nui ki a ia, koia tēnā e takoto mai rā i Tāmaki-makau-rau.

Ko tā te Pati Māori, he tautoko i ngā poroporoaki nui ki a ia. Koia tērā kua riro ki ōna mātua, ki ōna tūpuna. E te Pāpā o te Motu, e te ringa raupā o te iwi, takoto mai, takoto mai, e moe. Ki te whānau, e tautoko ake i ngā āhuatanga o ngā kōrero o te hunga kua tū ake i mua i a au, ko te kī atu ki a rātau, kia kaha, kia toa, kia manawanui. Kai wareware i a tātau, Tā Paora, koia tēnei e whai i ngā tapuwae o rātou kua ngaro. E koro, takoto mai, takoto mai, takoto mai, e moe.

[Cease the winds from the west

Cease the winds from the south

Let the piercing cold winds blow over the land

And the intensely cold winds blow over the ocean

As it heralds a red-tipped dawn

With a sharpened air, a touch of frost, a promise of a glorious day.

Behold the breath of life!

The rock has crumbled to the ground. The great tōtara of the forest has fallen. An archbishop of the Anglican Church has been silenced. Sir Paul, rest. To the worker with chafed hands of the people, the challenger of the nation’s Governments, the one who raised the profile of the Treaty of Waitangi, Queen Elizabeth’s representative, the epitome of humility and tranquillity, the descendant of Te Āti Awa, the bearer of the legacy to all extremities of the country and the world, lie there, rest there, recline there. Sir, your death follows the deaths of Whetū Tirikātene-Sullivan, Te Atawhai Taiaroa, Tione Haunui, bishops Manuhuia Bennett and Te Whakahuihui Vercoe; the recent ones of Ngāti Kahungunu, Meagan Joe, and Te Heikōkō Mataira; and only a few days ago a descendant of Ngāti Tūwharetoa, Dean Stebbing, passed away as well. So to all of you, farewell.

There is an aphorism in Taranaki. It is derived from a rhythmic chant with actions. Here it is: “Gaze towards the barren mountain above Parihaka and the Waitōtara River, Ngāti Moeahu and Ngāti Haupoto. It is the casting aside of Queen Victoria’s cloak; good riddance, good job. Tohu and Te Whiti were the two prophets who defeated the enemy with peace. Kss oh, kss oh! Despite the plundering of Parihaka, the blows have landed, the blows have landed. Ow!”. This is a maxim from within Taranaki and from the genealogy of the bishop who is lying there in Auckland.

The line that this saying takes is a good one, because so much of it is about Sir Paul. It speaks about a barren mountain, which is Taranaki, being cloaked in snow. That is a sign of death. This death then follows the deaths of Taranaki in regard to Te Meringa Hōhāia, Lindsay MacLeod, Matarena Rau-Kūpā, and Tom Ellison, actual decendants of Te Ātiawa who have passed away over the past year. It mentions Parihaka, the home of that elder, the place where people gathered in past years. There were other sacred marae mentioned: Parahuka, Toroaānui, and Takitūtū. It describes the Waitōtara River as being the conveyor of the ancestors from Parihaka to the sea. It mentions the cloak of Queen Victoria, which pertains to the time when Sir Paul was the Governor-General of the country.

The maxim also mentions Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi. Those two preached the message of honour, glory, peace on the land, and goodwill to all people. Sir Paul was the epitome of peace and carried that message to all extremities of the country. He followed the example of these two prophets. What more can be said? According to the proverb, the enemy was defeated through peaceful means. If one looks closely at these words, the message contradicts itself. Defeating the enemy through peaceful means is the important message. And Sir Paul carried that message to the world.

The final statement is that despite the plundering of Parihaka—“the blows have landed, the blows have landed. Ow!”—to further demonstrate Taranaki’s peace it should be noted that even though they were hurt and affected by the confiscation of land, what did Taranaki do? They did not pick up the gun, no. What they did instead was to pick up what Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi preached, which was peace, peace, peace. What did Sir Paul advocate? Peace, peace, humility. This was the greatest thing to him. He who lies there in state in Auckland is an epitome of that.

The Māori Party endorses the great farewell tributes being made to him. He is the one who has gone to his forefathers, his ancestors. To the Father of the Nation, the worker with chafed hands of the people, lie there, rest there, sleep. To the family, I endorse the tenor of the tributes expressed by those who stood before me. I urge them to be strong, courageous, and stout-hearted. Lest we forget, this is Sir Paul, the one who now follows the footsteps of those who are gone. O elderly one, lie there, rest there, recline there, sleep.]

I seek leave to table a contribution to this debate by the Hon Jim Anderton, leader of Jim Anderton’s Progressive party, and for the contribution to be included in the parliamentary record, given that Mr Anderton is currently delayed in Christchurch by the weather.

💬 Mr SPEAKER: Leave is sought for that course of action. Is there any objection? There is no objection.

Document, by leave, laid on the Table of the House.

I join with the House in expressing our sadness at the passing of Paul Reeves and in expressing condolences to his family.

As our Governor-General he helped to bring New Zealand into a new era, because he was so obviously different to those before him.

He was the first Māori to hold the position, and the first to come to the job from outside the customary establishment diplomatic and legal circles.

And more than that he had a highly developed sense of social awareness, and he was not afraid to express his thoughts.

He was our first Governor-General to have grown up after the Depression of the thirties, and like so many others who came of age in that time, he was influenced by the change it made to New Zealand, and the way we think about ourselves.

Throughout his life he identified with the cause of social and economic justice. He came from a modest family background and never allowed himself to forget that.

He knew from simply growing up and looking around that economic adversity and social exclusion can wound deeply, and that we owe it to everyone born into our communities to give them as equal as possible a start in life, the sort of fair go society that most New Zealanders want to live in, and which is one of our most admirable achievements.

He spoke out against division—between rich and poor, and against racial divisiveness.

He was not afraid to push the limits of his constitutional position and its conventions and to make himself felt in political areas where his predecessors would have been reluctant to tread.

I’m sure too that often his words would have irritated politicians, and yet he spoke always with such charm and good humour that they couldn’t possibly take public issue with him, even if he was subtly but effectively chiding them.

He was always able to make his point effectively and to cause those he was addressing to pause and to take stock without giving offence.

But above all he wore his talents lightly because Paul Reeves had that one thing above all else which marks out those who serve us best—his modesty.

Truly with his passing a mighty totara has fallen.

There was an awesome dignity about Sir Paul that struck one the first time one met him. At times it could be taken to perhaps belie the force of personality and the force of conviction that came with Sir Paul, but in many senses he was the perfect choice to be the Governor-General of New Zealand during the 1980s.

At a time when this country had gone through periods of great division and tension, he showed that it was possible to hold strong views, and to promote strong views, not only forcefully and courageously but with a dignity and an honour that would garner respect from even his most bitter opponents. So it proved to be during the time he was Governor-General of New Zealand. He spoke out fearlessly on many issues. He provided the leadership he had spoken of—courage with dignity—and he brought New Zealanders with him, to become one of our more revered figures in that role.

But there was another side to Sir Paul. There was a fearsome sense of humour, and an extraordinary laugh that would break out when a joke was cracked or some funny situation had occurred, which showed that this man not only possessed dignity and a very serious side but had a very warm and personal side, as well.

I want to recall for the House a particular incident, which I was privileged to be part of, that I think demonstrates all of these things. Members will be familiar with ceremonies in which ambassadors come to present their credentials. One such ceremony occurred with three ambassadors from countries not connected to each other. The only common link between all three was a minimal knowledge of English. We worked our way through the official ceremony, and the luncheon that followed. Sir Paul was at his best, trying to make small talk with people who understood very little other than that they were in Wellington, New Zealand. He tried every known tack imaginable, with dignity and courtesy, and got solid smiles of rebuff from across the table. Finally, at dessert, he said to them: “My next appointment is to go to a bird sanctuary”—which mean absolutely nothing to the audience—“to name two new kiwis.”

The word “kiwi” triggered a reaction in the three diplomatic officials. It was the one word of English they knew, and they sparked to life and said: “Ah; kiwi, kiwi.” Sir Paul then turned to the New Zealanders present and said: “Yes. I’m going to name them after two famous New Zealanders.” The signs of blankness reappeared on the faces of the audience, and he said: “I’m going to call one ‘Kiwi Te Kanawa’, and the other, ‘Kiwi T James’.”, which got a huge reaction from the New Zealanders, but obviously did not really register on the faces of his audience.

It summed up for me what Sir Paul was—this man who had carried out his solemn office with dignity and responsibility. He had shown extraordinary courtesy and tolerance to people who were really struggling on the occasion, but at the same time there was a massive sense of humour that he could not resist employing; having a good laugh at the end of it.

When we think about Sir Paul’s contribution to our national life over the last several decades—because it really has been a very long contribution—we have to recall with pride the vision, the leadership, the integrity, and the commitment, but also the fact that he remained throughout it essentially himself. He never took on airs and graces. He never succumbed to that great Kiwi disease of being up himself. He was a simple man who was confident in his views, confident in his abilities, and sought to do his best for his fellow New Zealanders.

We have truly lost one of our greatest citizens. I extend my sympathy to Lady Reeves and the family on their loss, and hope that they can derive some small consolation, at this time, from the knowledge that their husband and father was held in near-universal regard across this country. And that is the ultimate tribute New Zealanders can pay to him.

Tēnā rā, e te Kaiw’akawā. Hoi anō he kōrero ki te kaiw’akamārama ki te w’akapākehā i taku kōrero tuatahi, he tauparapara mai i te kāinga, mai i Muriwhenua. Nō reira:

Ruia, ruia, opea, opea,

Miria, miria, tahia, tahia

Kia hemo te kākoakoa

Kia herea mai i te kawau korokī

Kia tātaki mai i roto i te pūkorokoro whaikaro

He kūaka mārangaranga

Tahi te manu i tau atu ki te tāhuna, tau atu, tau atu, tau atu.

Ko tō tātou pīhopa kua tau atu ki tēnā taha, e te iwi, kua tau atu ki tēnā taha o te moana. Kua tau atu ki tua o te ārai, kua tau atu ki roto i a mātou o Muriwhenua, ā, kua tau atu ki Te Rerenga Wairua. Kia rukuhia i ngā rimurimu, kia ngaro atu ki Hawaiki nui, Hawaiki roa, Hawaiki pāmamao. Nō reira, haere a te pīhopa, haere, haere, ngaro atu.

Tautoko kaha ana au i tērā o ngā poroporoaki a taku whanaunga a Te Ururoa i huaina mai i ngā ingoa o rātou kua ngaro atu i mua noa atu i tō tātou pīhopa i te rā nei. E tika ana kia mihi atu ki tō tātou pīhopa i te mea anō hoki, hara tana tohu rangatira i te tohu o te kaha o te reo, o te kaha o tōna whawhai engari, ko te kaha o tōna humārie. He tangata aroha ana ki ngā iwi hākoa ko wai, hākoa nō hea. He tangata aroha ana ki a mātou ngā tangata hīkoi ana runga i te mata o te whenua. He tangata tautoko ana i te kaupapa kia whakakahoretia i ngā mahi kaikiri i roto o Aotearoa, i ngā wāhi katoa o te ao. He tangata e tautoka ana i tōna iwi, arā, ko te pani me te rawakore. Nō reira, e tika ana kia mihi atu tātou katoa ki a ia mō ōna āhuaranga.

Hoki mahara atu ki te wā tuatahi i tūtaki au ki a ia. Ko te rā i korowaingia te pīhopa, hei Pīhopa mō Tāmaki-makau-rau. I tēnei rā, kua hoki anō rā a ia ki tērā o ngā wāhi i raro i te maru o te whare karakia o te marae o te Tātai Hono i Tāmaki-makau-rau nō reira, e mihi atu ki a ia, e hoki mai nei ki roto i a mātou o Tāmaki, mai i aua wā ki tēnei wā. Nō reira e te pīhopa, takoto mai, takoto mai, takoto mai. Takoto mai anō rā roto i a rātou kua hoana kē, takoto mai rā ki roto i tērā o ngā whare o te Tātai Hono.

Me te mihi anō hoki ki taku w’anaunga a Shane Jones e noho ana ki te taumata i tēnei wā, e w’akarangatira i ngā kōrero mō tēnei o ngā tino pou o te hāhi Mihinare, ngā tino pou o tō tātou whenua o Aotearoa. Nō reira, mihi atu ki te whanaunga e kawe ana i tērā o ngā kaupapa.

Hoki mai anō rā ki a tātou e te Whare, tātou katoa e mihi ana ki te rangatira o te motu kua ngaro atu i a tātou. Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, huri rauna, kia ora tātou katoa.

[Thank you, Mr Speaker. I need to advise the interpreter that the first part of my address is an incantation from home, from the far north, and it goes:

Scatter, scatter, move together, move together

Hug the coast, run in, sweep it

Let us rejoice

Tie up the chattering shag

The rope has been stretched out and fastened

The godwits have risen and flown

One has landed upon the beach,

Others follow and land as well.

Our bishop has landed on that side, people, on that side of the sea beyond the divide. He has landed amongst us of the far north at the departing place of the spirits, at Cape Reinga. There he will plunge into the tide, the seaweed, and disappear to great Hawaiki, long Hawaiki, and distant Hawaiki. So farewell, o bishop. Depart, go forth, and be lost from view.

I strongly endorse the farewell tribute today by my kin Te Ururoa Flavell, who mentioned all those who had preceded our bishop. It is appropriate that I pay a tribute to our bishop, because he did not stand out for being an outspoken person or a fighter, but rather because of his humility. He was one who loved all people, regardless of who they were or where they were from. He sympathised with those of us who marched in protest across the land. He supported the cause to rid New Zealand and, indeed, the world of racism. He supported his people, the alienated, and the dispossessed. So it is fitting that we acknowledge everything about him.

I remember the first time I met him; it was the day when he was appointed Bishop of Auckland. He returns today to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre's Tātai Hono Marae in Auckland, so I acknowledge his being amongst us in Auckland once again after all that time. To the bishop, I say lie there, rest there, and recline. Rest there once again amongst those who preceded you. Rest in that building on Tātai Hono Marae.

I acknowledge my relation Shane Jones as well, who is back at the top at this moment and adding to the tributes to this great pillar of the Anglican faith and of our country. My acknowledgments go to my relation for what he is doing.

I come back once again to us in the House, to all of us, as we pay a tribute to the esteemed one of the nation who is lost from us. So greetings to you, greetings to you collectively, and greetings to us all.]

Motion agreed to.