• Sermon preached on 15 July 2018 (Pride Weekend)


    Is this the word of the Lord?

    Is this the gospel?

    “What should I ask for” said Herodias.

    “The head of the Baptist” said her mother.

    And it was so.

    And where is the good news in any of that?

    It is one of the worst, most barbaric and miserable stories in all of scripture.

    Herodias whom we know by the name of Salome in popular culture danced before the tyrant and demanded the head of the one who had stood up to Herod as he rode roughshod over the law.

    (David on the other hand, danced through the streets for joy in the first reading and distributed food for everyone – but we’ll get to him later).

    What about Salome? Why do we read this sorry and sordid tale?

    This is not some saucy burlesque after all but a dance of death.

    Where is the good news to be found?

    This story comes around quite a lot – we get rather a lot about the Baptist in the lectionary. We get this story on this Sunday and we also get it for the day we remember John the Baptist’s death too.

    This is not a story which ends with all the boys being brought safely from the dark and frightening cave. It is the story that ends with John’s state sponsored arbitrary execution.

    Every time I read it, someone asks why.

    If I’m honest, I sometimes feel the same when I am reading it too.

    People will know that I rather like the theatre.

    Going to the theatre is what I do when I have time off.

    I am apt to get myself to places where there are lots of shows on and just book things that I fancy on the off chance that they might be that great night out that you will remember forever.

    (Which is how I once booked myself tickets for the Tempest and spent the first few lines thinking that I didn’t remember the sailors in the storm being Russian sailors and got a full five minutes into what is, to say the least a long and complex night out before realising that the whole thing was going to be in Russian).

    And I did the same with a production by a famous theatre producer of a play by the famously witty Oscar Wilde and glued to my seat in horror when I realised that Salome, the title of the play was not the story of some saucy socialite but just a retelling of the horror story that I’ve just read from the bible.

    To put it bluntly – there are no jokes here.

    But when people ask why we read it in church my answer is always the same.

    We read it because it is true. We read it because brothers and sisters are suffering. We read it because John the Baptists who stand up to power still end up in prison cells. We read it because conniving plotters like Herodias and her ma still send good people to needless and pointless deaths. We read it because people still suffer under Herods.

    We read it in short because tyrants still exist. And it is fear of similar tyranny that brought people out onto George Square in protest on Friday evening.

    We stories like this it because notwithstanding the good news that Jesus came to share, he came to share good news so that we could share it with those who need it most.

    We read it because it is true. And we’ll keep on reading it until it is true no more.

    For standing up to abuses of power is surely a part of who we are and what we do.

    Yesterday, I stood for hours, literally hours, in Kelvingrove Park listening to people talk about their experiences of faith and of the church.

    It is a shock for people to see someone in a dog collar at a Pride celebration (or an anti-Trump protest come to that) and dozens of people wanted to chat.

    And I spoke to people who wanted to change the world like John the Baptist and speak truth to power – not least yesterday, those leading the campaign for Inclusive Education in Scotland – their time has come.

    Scotland’s children need them to win what they asking for.

    And over the last 28 hours, I’ve spoken to people who were dressed a little differently to most of you here this morning. People who, like John the Baptist like to dress in things that wouldn’t look so respectable in Byers Road. There were not so many hair shirts on display yesterday but there were one of two leather girdles a bit like John used to wear.

    But my predominant memory is of speaking to one John the Baptist after another who are trapped in caves of despair. And who think that the church is the evil empire and that Herod is in fact one of us – for people who look like me look all too much like the oppressor to them.

    A particular memory of yesterday is of speaking to dozens of heart-broken Roman Catholics who feel lost and abandoned by their faith.

    We never talk about that kind of thing in ecumenical conversations, which is why so many ecumenical conversations are so utterly futile and why the ecumenical age is all but over.

    There will be no new ecumenical spring until we can talk about the difficult things like heartbroken Roman Catholics at Pride and about the way our streets in the summer are taken over by those claiming to be protestants banging drums of hatred.

    There was different drumming on our streets yesterday.

    The Scottish Episcopalians at Pride were just in front of the Co-Op brass band who encouraged us around town and up Blythswood Hill to a small selection of well-known disco hits.

    As the road became steep they broke out into Abba songs of years ago.

    “Do I look like a Dancing Queen?” I wondered as they blasted it out behind us before deciding that I probably did and that the only way to keep going was to shimmy.

    Which brings us to David dancing for joy before the Ark of the Covenant.

    The murder of the Baptist by Herod with the connivance of Herodias and her wicked mother is one of my least favourite readings in the bible. But we read it because it is true.

    The story of David dancing through the city in a linen kilt to the scandal of those who thought they knew better including his wife, is one of my absolute favourites.

    We read that story because it is true too.

    We dance when we’re in love.

    We dance because we are happy and full of joy.

    And we dance because God is good.

    David dances as though no-one is watching, even when he knows they are.

    And if ever there was an example from scripture to emulate, I want to dance like David before the Lord.

    The things we read in scripture are true – all of them. The horrors as well as the loves.

    The Lord gives us choices.

    To walk the way of the tyrant. Or to protest and shout for justice from the earth.

    To dance the dance of death with Herodias. Or to dance the dance of life with David.

    Choose life – and all the earth will be fed.

    Choose life – and dance through the streets for joy like no-one is watching.

    Choose life – for what other choice is worth making.

    In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the holy Spirit. Amen.

9 responses to “Another Day, Another Mission Strategy is launched”

  1. Mark Avatar
    Mark

    three diocesan wishes?
    (i) Scrap every Diocesan body, council and group; let Bishops commend and expound the Gospel, and care for their clergy.
    (ii) Devolve every decision to the locally accountable group; let priests be priests and not bureaucrats.
    (iii) Let go of the Anglican communion for the sake of the Kingdom.

  2. Rev Ruth Avatar

    You know, in all the years I’ve been a member of the SEC I didn’t know about the Diocesan Fairy Wands. But now you mention them I can see that there must indeed be such a thing. In the spirit of openness I would like to see them processed in at the beginning of General Synod with the candles and placed on the Table. Carried by small children, perhaps?

    Do you know if they are different colours?

    And where is The Diocese of Argyll and the Isles’ fairy wand at the moment? Is someone else looking after it and therefore has two? Or is it waiting in a dusty filing cabinet for the drawer to be flung open and set free?

  3. kelvin Avatar

    Please allow me to jump in before anyone from the Diocese Across the Water feels obliged….

    Ruth, you should know by now. It is the Diocese of Argyll and The Isles. Not the Diocese of Argyll and the Isles. Nor indeed the Judean Peoples’ Front.

  4. […] To wrap up Kelvin Holdsworth, Provost of St Mary’s Cathedral, Glasgow explains that as a new day dawns a new mission statement is launched […]

  5. Kenny Avatar

    As the Chair of a Regional Council, and a member of Diocesan Council, I feel well and truly “whupped” by your words, Kelvin. If I were the MDO or the Bishop or Dean, I would feel similarly put down. There are folk who are genuinely trying to put together a strategy for mission that works and is not smothered by cynicism from the outset. I think a bit of support or a word of encouragement or advice may have been a bit more helpful.

    It is true that some Regional Councils may not be working, but that certainly isn’t helped by clergy staying away from them because it’s bad for their health. On the contrary, it needs these priests to be there, to stand up and question what’s going on or not going on and help shape them into a body that works. The theory is a good one, but Regional Councils will fail simply because some folk will share your attitude towards them. As a member of the Bishop’s Staff Group and a member of Diocesan Council, I find it totally incredible that you choose not to attend and disseminate information from these two bodies, and indeed incredible that you have not taken your Regional Council by the scruff of the neck and shown it how it can be more productive and engage more dynamically in current Diocesan policy.

    I sit on Diocesan Council too, and am amazed at the power you think it has! Very often, it seems to me, we cannot make any decisions until they are ratified by the Bishop’s Staff Group, or things come from the Staff Group that we are told to ratify. Debate is sometimes rare and I feel Council is a pretty toothless being, and exists only to ratify what others in more lofty positions want to happen. (Paisley was a prime example of this).

    It’s dead easy to sit there and snipe at those who are trying their damndest to wake the sleeping and encourage growth and life. Instead, we need to pull together and make sure something is put in place that is effective and that we can all buy into.

    Maybe the Clergy Conference will give us a start, but banging in and damaging the process before it has begun is perhaps not the most constructive thing you’ve done of late.

  6. kelvin Avatar

    Hi Kenny – thanks for your comments. I think you are quite right in some of the things you say, though not in others.

    I agree that it was not a constructive way to engage with this to put all of my grumpiness into a blog post and wish now that I had kept quiet.

    There are some things which you’ve not got entirely right though. I’m not a member of the Diocesan Council, as it happens. Also, your assumptions about the way in which decisions were made about Paisley are not quite right. However, learning from what you’ve said, I’m not inclined to post more about that on here, but I will be saying more about it in meetings as appropriate.

    My comments about Regional Councils are influenced by two things only – the local ones which I have been to and the reports from the Regions which are given at Diocesan Council. (I usually find these quite shocking).

    As it happens, I disagree with you about clergy health. Should regional council meetings ever affect the health of clergy, its certainly time to stop going. We don’t think nearly enough about one another’s wellbeing.

    I do however take the general point that my blog post was unhelpful. Though it does still represent my views, I’m sorry that I posted it online in the first place and wish I had thought twice about it.

    I guess lots of us who keep blogs sometimes make mistakes and this one was one of mine.

  7. Kenny Avatar

    Now I feel like a heel! I’m lucky inasmuch as what I post is largely ignored or unread, so I can rant when I like without too many consequences, unless it annoys or causes hassle for the upper echelons in our little Church.

    I know, of course that you are not a member of Council, but you do attend as Provost of the Cathedral and are allowed to contribute.

    You did say that Regional Council were bad for your health and well-being. I am concerned about that, and yes, I wish we were all a bit more concerned for each other, but my suggestion was that you took steps to ensure that these meetings were a little more constructive and actually did what they were set up to do. I agree that reports back to Diocesan Council are often dreadful. I shiver when I hear reported that the highlight was a Coffee Morning held in Little St Reubens, but how do we change that?

    I often think that the old RCC was much much better at disseminating information down to parishes, and every parish felt part of the processes of Church Government, but new models are indeed needed. I think new processes may well emerge from this new initiative.

    I wouldn’t worry too much about the negativity in this particular post. You seem to be redeeming yourself in subsequent jottings.

    The truth is that we need you, and your vision, on board, and the Clergy Conference may well be a good place to begin.

  8. Kelvin Avatar
    Kelvin

    And we’ve got yet another Mission Strategy document to get our teeth into at General Synod! Hurrah!

    And you know what I think of that one?

    Well, let me tell you, I think………

    No, maybe I’ve learnt my lesson.

    For now, anyway.

  9. Kenny Avatar

    I just can’t wait… and I hope tou DO say what you think!

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