Today we gather to remember one of the most significant moments in Australia's legal history. We remember Eddie Koiki Mabo and all those including an Anglican priest, Rev. David Passi, who courageously stood against the great lie that this land belonged to no one. Terra Nullius. We remember a struggle that was never simply about land ownership, but about truth, identity, dignity, belonging and justice. For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, Country has never been merely a piece of property. Country is family. Country is memory. Country is story. Country is law. Country is spirit. Country is our relationship with the Creator and with one another. Country is deep belonging. Country holds the footprints of our ancestors and carries our responsibilities to future generations. ​ This is why the story of Naboth's vineyard speaks so powerfully to us on Mabo Day. When King Ahab looked at Naboth's vineyard, he saw an opportunity. He saw land that would suit his plans. He saw something he wanted. He approached Naboth with what seemed to be a reasonable offer. "Sell me your vineyard," he said. "I will give you a better vineyard or pay you whatever it is worth." ​ To many people this might have sounded fair. It might even have sounded generous. Yet Naboth's response reveals something profound. He says, "The Lord forbid that I should give you the inheritance of my ancestors." ​ Naboth understood something that Ahab did not understand. The vineyard was not merely land. It was inheritance. It was identity. It was covenant. It was a sacred trust passed down through generations. It carried the memory of those who had come before him and the responsibility of those who would come after him. ​ In many ways, Naboth's words echo the understanding that Aboriginal peoples have carried for tens of thousands of years. We do not simply own Country. We belong to Country. We are part of a relationship that stretches backwards to our ancestors and forwards to generations yet unborn. Some things cannot be measured by money because they were never commodities to begin with. ​ Yet king Ahab could not understand this. He viewed the vineyard through the eyes of power, ownership and entitlement. He assumed that everything had a price. He assumed that if he offered enough, Naboth would surrender what was sacred. Colonisation often works in the same way. ​ Again and again, Aboriginal people were told that development would be better. We were told that settlement was progress. We were told that our cultures would be improved. Governments, churches, businesses and institutions frequently assumed they knew what was best for Indigenous peoples. ​ The doctrine of terra nullius rested upon a similar assumption. It declared that Indigenous peoples and their laws did not matter. It treated the oldest continuing cultures on earth as if they were invisible. It denied the sacred relationship between people and Country. ( “There is no scientific evidence that the Aborigine is a human being at all.. O'Malley made this comment on 23 April 1902 during federal parliamentary debates regarding the Commonwealth Franchise Act 1902. The parliament was debating whether to grant voting rights to Indigenous people.) But Mabo challenged that lie. ​ The Mabo decision declared that Indigenous connection to Country had never disappeared. It acknowledged that our relationship with land existed before 1788, before colonisation and survived despite colonisation. In many ways, Mabo was Australia's modern-day declaration that the inheritance of the ancestors still matters. The story of Naboth also reminds us of something darker. When power cannot buy what it wants, it often seeks other ways to take it. ​ King Ahab sulked because he could not get what he wanted. Jezebel then devised a plan to remove Naboth. False witnesses were found. Institutions were manipulated. The appearance of legality was maintained. Everything looked official. Everything appeared proper. Yet beneath the surface there was corruption, violence and injustice. Throughout history, injustice has often hidden behind legal processes. Many of the policies that dispossessed Aboriginal peoples were legal. Many of the laws that removed children from their families were legal. Many of the actions that denied rights and dignity were legal. But legality and justice are not the same thing. ​ The question God asks king Ahab through the prophet Elijah is not whether he followed procedure. The question is far more direct: "Have you murdered a man and seized his property?" God cuts through every excuse. God cuts through every legal argument. God cuts through every justification and exposes the truth. The good news of this story is that God sees what others refuse to see. When Naboth's voice was silenced, God heard him. When the powerful celebrated their victory, God remembered. When institutions failed, God sent Elijah. Again and again throughout Scripture we discover that God stands with those who have been dispossessed, oppressed and marginalised. God hears the cries that society ignores. God remembers the people history tries to forget. This is why Mabo Day matters. ​ It matters because truth finally broke through generations of denial. It matters because justice, even delayed justice, is still worth pursuing. It matters because it reminds us that God is always working on the side of truth. Yet Mabo Day also reminds us that the journey is not complete. ​ The Mabo decision was historic, but it did not restore everything that was lost. Native Title did not heal every wound. Many communities still struggle. Many sacred places remain under threat. Many voices continue to go unheard. Truth-telling is not the destination. Truth-telling is the beginning. And the Gospel calls us beyond recognition toward restoration. It calls us to restore dignity where dignity has been denied. It calls us to honour sacred places. It calls us to listen deeply before acting. It calls us to build relationships that are stronger than possession and more enduring than power. As Christians, we also see in Naboth a shadow of Jesus himself. ​ Like Naboth, Jesus stood before corrupt power. Like Naboth, Jesus faced false witnesses. Like Naboth, Jesus was condemned unjustly. Like Naboth, Jesus was taken outside the city and put to death. Yet unlike Naboth, Jesus rose from the grave. ​ His resurrection declares that truth cannot be buried forever. Justice cannot be silenced forever. The powers of this world do not have the final word. God's kingdom has the final word. And because Christ is risen, we continue to hope. ​ We hope for a nation that tells the truth. We hope for a nation that honours the inheritance of its First Peoples. We hope for a nation where reconciliation is built upon justice. We hope for a nation where sacred places are protected and where every people can flourish in dignity. ​ Today, on Mabo Day, we hear again the words of Naboth: "The Lord forbid that I should give away the inheritance of my ancestors." May we honour those words. May we honour Eddie Koiki Mabo. May we honour the wisdom of our ancestors. May we honour the Creator who entrusted this land into our care. ​ And may we walk together in the way of Christ, seeking truth, pursuing justice, and helping to restore what has been broken, until righteousness flows across this land like a mighty river. (Amos 5:24) ​ Amen.