Jim Coulter (1922-2025) enlisted as an RAAF pilot during World War II and was awarded a Légion d’honneur for his part in D-Day. But war left its mark on the rest of his life. Realising that ‘if you sweat more in time of peace, you bleed less in time of war,’ he resigned his career as a journalist and ‘enlisted’ a second time with Moral Re-Armament to ‘secure the peace’. Jim and his wife, Rita, were among the pioneers of MRA (now Initiatives of Change) in Australia. At his funeral on 2 October, his remarkable life was described by their sons, Philip and Gordon, and by Nigel Heywood, a close friend over 25 years:
First, Philip embraced the task of outlining his father’s 102-year life:
Jim and Rita met Moral Re-Armament in their last year of secondary school 1940 (in Perth, WA). Put simply they were introduced to the concept that God had a plan for their lives and that it was available to anyone.
On leaving school Mum began teacher training while Dad was a cadet journalist on The West Australian newspaper. In July 1942 he enlisted in the RAAF. His war experience -- including surviving three plane crashes and 18 months of dangerous surveillance missions -- caused Dad to feel his life had been spared for a purpose. In 1951, they were married in London and formed a dynamic partnership that remained vibrant for 71 years.
If you wanted to ‘build bridges’ between nations you had to travel and so they did: Britain, France, Germany, the Netherlands, the Philippines, Indonesia, USA, Canada, Fiji, India, Japan, South Africa, Scandinavia, Ireland, Papua New Guinea and New Zealand were all places Dad, and often Mum, spent time in.
Together they embarked on a life totally reliant on contributions of people who shared a similar faith or believed they were having a positive influence on the world.
With the arrival of us two boys, they lived in many homes -- often generously invited to share the home of another family. Overall they lived in 20 -- but never owned a house of their own.
Jim and Rita made life-long friends with sports people, parliamentarians, trade unionists, religious leaders and so many residents of countries to which they were invited to spread their message. As such, we feel that we have shared our parents with many folk around the globe.
Describing to others just what our parents did was always difficult. Their lives were unique in our experience. Jim had a keen sense of the ridiculous and would have been highly amused by the trouble we had filling in his death certificate details. We listed his occupation as a ‘religious worker’ only to be told that was not officially recognised in Victoria!
Although often absent, Dad has been a constant in my life. I feel like I have stood beside the trunk of a huge tree. A tree that has many large limbs branching out in many directions. My sense of life at the extremities of the canopy is limited, but I have felt the tree’s strength and resilience.
Gordon Coulter summed up some memorable aspects of his father:
Dad’s positivity and faith in people was a rare gift in these cynical times and it was something he never lost. He liked people and people liked him. He saw the best in people, though there were a few in public life who weren’t, as Dad would put it, on his ‘Christmas card list’ -- they were likely to be either racist, pious, greedy, snobbish, unfaithful and compassionless; all the things Jim Coulter wasn’t.
Jim Coulter wasn’t perfect. And thankfully, he knew it and could laugh about himself. He was a ‘show-off’ and we loved him for it. Unlike some well-read, intelligent people with a view and understanding of world affairs, my father was, importantly, more interested in hearing your opinion and commentary rather than just giving you the benefit of his undoubted wisdom.
The ‘Dad’ I liked the most was during the time when he was able to enjoy life at Hedley Sutton (retirement village). Relaxed, warm and being able more than at any other time in his life to value his friends and family. It was the time when he showed his true qualities as a very decent human being. His devotion, tenderness and kindness in his care of Mum was truly exceptional and made us prouder than any of his other remarkable achievements.
Strangely enough, Dad almost saved his best to the last. In hospital, at peace with the world, Phil and I by his bed saw our Dad unvarnished. He continued to be compassionate and grateful to all those who helped him to his very last day. He didn’t think it was owed to him. He knew how fortunate he was to have friends who cared for him. This is the time to celebrate someone who made the world a slightly better place and enriched the lives of those lucky enough to know him.
Dad would not consider this to be the end of his time at the crease but rather a pause or an ‘innings break’ so that he could resume his most important partnership with his beloved Rita who his faith has reassured him he would be rejoining.
Crossing two generations, Nigel Heywood spoke of Jim as ‘a great friend I loved to hang out with’ -- which he did in many weekly visits:
I knew Jim for around 25 years. Half of my life and one quarter of his. It's quite incredible to have a friend who lived to be 102 and with Rita, who also lived to be 100. One of the reasons I think that they both lived so long is because they had such compassion for every person and situation they encountered.
Having seen half his generation killed in the War, Jim decided to dedicate his life to work for peace. For Jim and Rita this meant ‘living by faith’ (no salaries but supported by Moral Re-Armament friends), a life that I would describe as a precarious global adventure. Jim was encouraged to take this step by two Australian prime ministers, John Curtin and Ben Chifley. This, in turn, led to his conviction that politicians also needed people to care for them.
At a conference in Switzerland soon after the War, Jim helped French and Germans find reconciliation, but not before working through his own animosity towards his German roommate. He supported conferences that ignited reconciliation between the Philippines, Japan and Korea. Helping settle some bitter industrial disputes, he worked with miners and steelworkers in South Wales, in Mount Isa, Australia, in Papua New Guinea – supporting his friend (union leader) Jim Beggs to find solutions to the deep divisions on the Melbourne waterfront.
All of this happened before I knew him. He had lived several lifetimes worth of wisdom before I ever turned up at his home for the first cup of tea. We met weekly for years.
Jim’s life was based on a simple idea that God has a plan, and that is to bring hope in a fragmented world through change in people's hearts and actions. Jim was a profound spiritual mentor to me and at times he could be tough, particularly calling me out on my self-pity, always acknowledging his own. He had an underlying sense of listening for deeper wisdom. So we took time to reflect in silence and prayed together. Jim was a mentor, a teacher, a true elder in passing on his wisdom.
But in the end, he was just a great friend, someone I loved to hang out with. I looked forward to every week because I felt that he had such a deep appreciation for me and everyone he met.
That's why Jim could talk to prime ministers, family, friends, revolutionaries, and those who were lost, people who annoyed him or people who scared him -- because he had a courageous love that believed everyone mattered and has a part to play in making the world more just, fair and caring. Thank you, Jim. Much love from the bottom of my heart.