• Tales of the City #8

    The scene is Glasgow Pride. The protagonists are making their way down Argyll Street in Finnieston. I am dressed in a black suit, clerical collar and small lapel ribbon in all the colours of the rainbow. The group I am with all carry colourful posters proclaiming “The Scottish Episcopal Church Welcomes You”. Mine is mauve. 

    A young man sidles up to walk beside me.

    Young Man: Hi!

    Self: Hello! Where are you from?

    Young Man: Well, Australia, actually. 

    The Young Man pauses.

    Young Man: I just, er, I just wanted to ask you something.

    Self: Oh, OK, ask away.

    Young Man: Well, are you real?

    Self: Oh yes, I’m very real.

    The Young Man gestures with his head towards the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence who, beautifully bedecked in Catherine Laboré style wimples and rainbow habits of various styles are waving a large rainbow flag in front of us.

    Young Man: Yes, but the nuns?

    The Young Man pauses.

    Young Man: They are not real. Right?

    Self: Right.

     

2 responses to “E and B”

  1. Martin Ritchie Avatar
    Martin Ritchie

    One of the interesting things about choral evensong is that in some places it can seem like a living tradition that can speak to anyone, whereas in others it can appear to be dry as dust, pompous and irrelevant. What do you think the “method” is that produces a living choral evensong as opposed to an antiquarian one?

  2. kelvin Avatar

    That’s a good question, Martin and I agree, it can be miserable.

    I think that worship tends to take off when those planning it and organising and leading it care more about what we are doing when we worship than in the form in which we worship.

    I suspect that Choral Evensong is not best led by liturgical, musical or prayer book fundamentalists or by those who happen to find this a way of encountering the holy.

    A culture of offering the best we can be to God helps. Good relationships between musicians and clergy help. As usual, clear liturgical books in the hands of the faithful help. And whoever is leading needs not to be frightened of a bit of silence now and then amidst the music.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • Light Led

    At the concert o­n Sunday night, I found myself thinking about the lighting. There was smoke and shafts of light from above. Very holy. There is always a basic idea at play in liturgy – some services are band led, some choir led, some driven by involving the laity, some by the children etc. I…

  • The Barnsley Nightingale

    Went last night to hear Kate Rusby and her band at the Macrobert Arts Centre. The band was tight, the singer was hot and the audience were up for it.It made me want to dig out the melodeon and the mandolin, neither of which I ever really learned to play as well as I wanted…

  • Wisdom – Sunday Sermon 14 September 2003

    I was listening to the coverage of the second anniversary of September 11 [2000] this week and a word jumped out at me which is what I want to focus o­n this morning. Someone was praying in New York and asking God the Creator to grant wisdom to the nations to know how to act…

  • Anna Lindh

    I feel sorry for the Swedes, mourning their foreign minister. She was killed in an attack in a deparment store which I shopped in when I was studying in Sweden 6 years ago. It is the kind of thing that the Swedes themselves will mull over and grieve over for many months. It is yet…