Went off to Glasgow’s medieval cathedral last night for a Glasgow Churches Together service celebrating St Mungo, the loved one, who settled in this place and preached the gospel here. I’d never been to a service there before and it was the first time I’d been there at night. I think the building looked better at night, so it must be lit quite well.
There was a lot going on in the service – Rutherglen Salvation Army Band, a Russian choir, an RCish choir, a clarsach player and some ballet dancers. There was supposed to be a piper about the place too, though I wasn’t aware of him. The dancers danced that well known part of Mungo’s story where his mother meets the three nuns in the field. (No, I hadn’t remembered that bit either). There was the chance to meet old friends and meet some people who were new to me. It was a particular joy to meet up again with and old friend from Culross, (where Mungo was born on the beach, remember). She and I are battle-scarred veterans of the fight of faith who worked together ages ago. We fell upon one anothers’ necks and squealed with joy for all the world like two keening swans.
It was that sort of evening really. Good people all muddled up with a liturgy to remember Mungo (aka Kentigern) who has the lovely epithet “the loved one” attached to him.
It all ended in the lower church where wreathes were laid on Mungo’s tomb (an act I found a bit odd really) and a photo-op and a goodnight to the many civic guests and off into the thaw to find our way home.
I wonder what epithet will come my way if I ever achieve sanctity.
“The deserving one”, perhaps?
The brave one.
The attention seeking one…
The Featured-in-Italian-Vanity-Fair one? 😉
“The One Who looks Beyond”, maybe – I guess you’ll have other concerns by then.
Certainly “The One We’ll Miss In This Reality”.
The one in black shoes 😉
The gay one?
The radical one?
The political one?
Lover of justice.
Handmaid to Tilly the scary.
The father’s son?