I hope when I die I am mourned more by the poor than by the rich.
I hope my coffin is carried by friends and not by soldiers.
I hope the clocks keep chiming for the world only spins forwards.
I hope that money is not wasted on my obsequies which could be better spent on doing good.
I hope that an Easter mass is celebrated not state-sanctioned pomp and pride.
Amen.
That’s all very well but you weren’t a major public figure (loathed or loved) and this was the country’s way of remembering her, giving thanks for her public service, whether one liked what she did or not. It was neither an act of praise nor condemnation but a service of thanksgiving for her life given with dignity and poise from the youngest chorister to those representatives of the armed forces who fought to keep the Falklands British.
No. This was half the country’s way of remembering her.
They still have a right to remember her and I would have thought that, as a Christian and as a person with a position of responsibility in the church, you would understand the need for some people to remember her in whatever way they want. You have no right to judge them but should be accepting of each and everyone’s opinions. I hardly think as the Provost of St Mary’s Cathedral you are promoting the simple life you attain to in your original comment. Perhaps you should be working in a poverty-stricken community here or abroad.
Aberdeen65, you seem to be moving a long way off the original disagreement. Since you have chosen to write under a pseudonym, I can’t begin to guess whether you have ever met Kelvin, or if you know anything at all about how simply he lives his life. Still, it might be worth remembering that a priest’s stipend is the same wherever they are, and their commitment to the poor cannot be judged on the splendour (or otherwise) of the congregation they serve.
Though, as it happens, St Mary’s does quite a lot to serve both the poor and the oppressed, which makes your assumptions about the Provost all the more bewildering.
As someone who grew up in a leafy suburb of Glasgow (that’s an official designation, BTW) I wouldn’t have considered buying a house in the vicinity of St Mary’s because it wasn’t sufficiently pan-loaf for me. Really. I don’t find the congregation of St Mary’s particularly more splendid than anywhere else – just bigger. That in itself says something. As for tolerating everything the world does – in this case spending a fortune on burying someone by whom so many people still feel ruined – that is simply bobbins.
Actually, I don’t think this post did judge individuals. It judged a situation, and Christians are called on to make value judgements on situations (while not condemning people who are as flawed as we all are.) What we are NOT called on to do is to think each and every opinion equally valid. Indeed any leading churchman is specifically called on to make value judgements. That is what they are there to do.
Amen.
I share Kelvin’s hopes.
This is the final stanza of Kevin Hart’s poem “Morning Knowledge”:
In those last days my dad ate nothing much;
His words were mostly gnawing at warm air.
Dark One, I’ll be the one to smooth his hair.
You be the one who lets him know my touch.