• Easter Sermon 2022

    https://youtu.be/738ChTRb61I?t=2104

    Years ago I remember going on holiday. It was my kind of travel – ferries and trains and buses and then a sailing trip with friends who used to take me despite and not because of my sailing abilities.

    And there was this one morning that I remember. Will always remember. I’d managed to get myself off the boat without much incident. And rowed ashore and went for a walk in the first light of the day.

    And on the walk I heard something. A tiny bird singing. And not just singing but singing its heart out. Trilling its way up and down in a way that even the best singers could only dream of.

    I caught sight of it. And I recognised it. I knew what it was immediately. It was a tiny little wren singing in the morning air.

    And it was one of those special, perfect holiday moments. The kind of thing you never forget.

    And I felt particularly blessed. It was so rare to see a wren and hear it sing. And it sang just for me.

    What a journey it had been to get to hear it. Travelling right across the country. Sailing and paddling my way across the sea. I had come a long way. And it was all worth it for the rare sound of the wren in the morning air.

    It felt like a very special moment.

    Fast forward a few years.

    And lockdown came along.

    And with the first lockdown the instruction to go out and walk every day for half an hour. And I did.

    The world was still. The roads silent. The traffic gone.

    And I got three hundred yards from my front door. Nearer to where I live than we are now.

    And I heard a sound. Familiar.

    Imagine that. I’d heard it once on holiday. So many miles away.

    Well what do you know, I said. Three hundred yards from my front door.

    And I listened and then went on. Another couple of hundred yards. And another tiny bird was singing.

    And then another and then from across the canal, another.

    The lockdowns were long. The pandemic has been long and it isn’t over yet. I think we’ve seen enormous generosity sometimes. And enormous selfishness at others.

    All of human life was changed, but all of human life was there, the best of life and the worst.

    For the last two Easters we have been telling one another the stories of Easter in ways that we never expected to have to do.

    And it was good to do so. But I longed, oh how I longed to be able to bring people together do tell them again in this place.

    For Holy Week matters to me.

    For the stories of Holy Week are our stories of today. Always. All human life is here.

    In Holy Week we encounter the worst of human behaviour.

    A week in which we hear of bitter betrayal by Jesus.

    Violence whipped up by unscrupulous leaders.

    Pilate literally washing his hands to try to pin the blame for the crucifixion on others.

    And a broken man buried with no ceremony, and no proper funeral whilst others celebrated a feast.

    We do not need to look far to see the passion played out in our midst.

    The violence being experienced by Ukraine at the hands of Putin is a real-life crucifixion story.

    The agony of those of us who experienced heart numbingly difficult funerals whilst others partied in Downing Street is a bitter passion tale.

    The suggestion that we should send those seeking refuge in this country on a one-way ticket to Rwanda is a bitter betrayal. A betrayal of this country’s international commitments. A betrayal of those in desperate need. Not one passion story but thousands of stories of people betrayed by those who should offer friendship, fairness and common decency.

    The government’s proposal to export the neediest and the most desperate to a land far away for “processing” is immoral, shameless and obscene.

    I say to the government today – You can’t outsource compassion. We are better than this.

    Seldom was resurrection hope, the message of Easter Day more needed than today.

    But Christians do not simply wring their hands on Easter Day.

    On Easter Day, we proclaim that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.

    And it isn’t just that if that is possible for Jesus then it could happen to us. The Christian believe is that if that happened to Jesus then it will happen for us.

    It isn’t just our believe that if Jesus gets new life then the world might get new life. It is our conviction that it will! And that it does.

    We believe that death and betrayal, corruption and selfishness, bitterness and anger, violence and destruction… these things will never have the last word.

    These are not things to live by.

    Jesus Christ is risen from the dead and with his rising comes the news that the world is changed.

    We have known love so many times by the pain it has caused us during the pandemic. The pain of separation. The pain of death. The pain of not being able to comfort one another.

    Love is deep within us. And sometimes it hurts.

    But love is the root of God’s mission to the world. Love that will not let us go.

    It was love that brought Jesus into the world. And it is love that reaches into the very depths of hell to haul him out and us with him.

    And it is love that causes us to encounter the world through the resurrection of Christ. Love that tells us to proclaim that new life has come; that death is not the end.

    It is love, love buried deep, deep, deep within us that tells us to hope for, work for and believe in a world where pain and suffering will be gone. Where the tears will be wiped away from every eye.

    Where we will encounter love and hope and joy in every human life so that everyone who lives and breathes on earth may be able to hear that every bird is singing.

    Something happens at Easter which breaks the pattern of sin and death for good.

    And I tell you that it has happened this day.

    For if Christ were not risen from the dead, we would not be gathered here.

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

    Media reports

    Priti Patel’s Rwanda plan ‘immoral, shameless and obscene’, says Glasgow cathedral provost – Scotsman

    Sending asylum seekers to Rwanda a bitter betrayal, says senior church leader – The Times

    Boris Johnson attacked by Glasgow priest over Rwanda scheme and partygate – The National

    Radio Scotland interview with Lucy Whyte – Good Morning Scotland 18 April 2022

8 responses to “The End of Civilization As We Know It”

  1. Kimberly Avatar

    This is disaster. What will I do on my day off??

    I may have to consider returning to America after all.

  2. marion Avatar
    marion

    I worked for Border Books for 10 months Kelvin. Helped clean and stock those now empty shelves. To see the store like that is awful. I love the feel and smell of a new book, and the idea of using an electronic book fills me with horror. To browse slowly, and then to make my choice of reading material is so much better and satisfying than ordering on line, and quicker.

  3. kelvin Avatar

    I suspect we must cherish our public libraries far more than we have done hitherto if we wish to retain the browsing experience.

  4. kimberly Avatar

    I have tried to cherish my public library, but it is so full of computers, and the only place to read/write/ think is a round table by the door, so I had to retreat to the Beanscene instead.

    For those of us who don’t live near the Mitchell, where are the good ‘local’ libraries?

  5. Kelvin Avatar
    Kelvin

    Well, I know I am spoilt by having the largest public reference library in Europe on my doorstep.

    What I meant by cherishing local libraries was probably that we need to tell those who fund them what we want from them.

    There is a consultation going on in England about it, and Rachel Cooke writes about it in a recent Observer.

  6. Justin Avatar

    The closure of the Glasgow branch is sad news indeed. The Fort Kinnaird branch in Edinburgh has been declining for a while, but even a year or so ago Borders in Glasgow was a great bookstore.

    Apparently Borders has been starved of funds over the past few years, forced to promote potboilers to make up for lack of investment. There’s some hope for good high street book stores if you look at Blackwells in Edinburgh, which I think has got even better in the last couple of years. And, further afield, Foyles in London: they refurbished recently and it’s just fantastic. Models for the future, hopefully.

  7. kelvin Avatar

    I agree that Foyles’s refurbishment is a triumph. Howevrer, I still think that the idea of the big bookshop is probably going to be so rare that it will be like Wembley Stadium or Edinburgh Zoo. Of national note rather than local significance.

  8. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    The noise level in my local library is such that I cannot think at all – and I’m used to a noisy family around me. In Borders today – incredibly depressing. It was so so much better than Waterstones. But Waterstones is better than nothing. But then again, I use Glasgow University Library more than anything else.

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