What is in Kelvin's Head?

Sermon for Oliver Brewer-Lennon – 27 October 2019

29/10/2019

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

Oliver! The time has come!

The removal van has departed. You told me this week that you can see the floor in every room in the flat. And you spoke as though that was your greatest ever achievement.

After what seemed to take forever: advertising and interviewing and appointing, you’re here. After what seemed like an age finding you somewhere to live. You’re here. After all that has made you and shaped you and prepared you and formed you. You are here.

Right here and right now you are going to be installed as the new Vice Provost for this place. A new beginning for us and a new beginning for you.

Let us just pause for a moment though and let the words of the scriptures that we have heard sink in as we think about what is happening to you today.

Let us just think about those words from Ezra which we heard read and which we heard the choir sing just now.

When the builders laid the foundation of the temple of the Lord, the priests in their vestments were stationed to praise the Lord with trumpets and they all sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord,

“For God is good, for God’s steadfast love endures forever”

But what’s going on and how does it relate to you as you take up this new ministry?

Those who built that temple came from some distance. They had arrived some little time before having been living in exile from the promised land, their people having been forced to live in Persia, in the East, rather than at home in and around Jerusalem.

I hope that it is not too difficult for you to see yourself as one of them, invited to fulfil a Godly task – to build and ever rebuild the temple.

And if by saying that, we are identifying Glasgow with Jerusalem, there will be many Glaswegians who will agree for we know that this is a holy city.

(And if by saying that we identify the city in the East from whence you come, as Babylon, they will perhaps agree even more vigorously).

We know from the first records we have, that it is intrinsic to very nature of human beings to recognise particular places as special and to keep particular feasts and commemorations that matter to us as holy. People on great journeys has stopped at important places, and at decisive moments, to build cairns at the roadside to which they and others can always return.

Some of those cairns by the roadside are simple piles of stones. Others are positively gothic. And it is to a decidedly gothic cairn of stones that we call you Oliver Brewer-Lennon this very night as we celebrate our own dedication festival, giving thanks for those who have built and tended and built again, the church in this particular place.

We bring with us a particular history stretching back to those Episcopalians who experienced their own exile by being cast out of St Mungo’s in the High Street in 1689. We remember at this time those who gathered the congregation through lean and difficult years facing real persecution and violence and who built and rebuilt the church again and again before ending up here. And we remember those who have built the building and those who built up the people into this congregation that meets here proclaiming the open, inclusive and welcoming love of God that we ourselves have experienced.

We bring with us the tenacity of people who have lived through hard times, the determination of those who were making a pretty big statement when they built this place and we carry the infectious joy of those who know how to celebrate in a city that knows how to laugh.

And you Oliver. You bring stuff too: your own stones to add to the cairn…your own gifts to help us to build God’s church.

You bring with you all the charm of Kentucky, all the professionalism and creativity of the Eastman School of Music and the considerable and expansive friendship and love of so many people who have shared your journey up until now.

For you have found many friends, in… Babylon, and elsewhere. And lots of them are here tonight. And lots more will be thinking of you and praying for you from afar.

The truth is, the children of Israel learned an enormous amount in exile. They learned things that they could never have learned if they had never gone to Persia – things which shaped them and formed them and made them.

Oliver, you have gained a lot on your travels – you’ve been formed as a priest by the church, and yes, by the world around you. And you are being formed as a human being by your beloved husband Joe.

You’ve had good times and bad times on your journey. And so does everyone.

But all that has happened to you has made you the person that we are calling tonight to this new role.

A new role for you. But an ancient role all the same.

The role of Builder.

Come and join a great work – the work of building up this place and this people.

“For God is good, and God’s steadfast love endures forever”

Oliver – stand up!

Oliver Brewer-Lennon, this is the work to which we call you tonight – to be the Vice Provost in this place and amongst these people. And to help build this temple of God and share that steadfast love of God using your own particular gifts and skills.

Do you accept this call?

By the help of God, I do.

Then may the Lord preserve your going out and your coming in. From this time forth forever more.

Amen!

9 responses to “The Episcopal Way of Death”

Rosemary Hannah

02/11/2017

The greatest privilege I have ever had in the service of the people of the church was to be the person who received the coffin the night before the funeral and led Compline then. The church was on an island, and the coffins those of people I loved and honoured. It was deeply moving for everybody there. I hope one day that will be done for me and mine.

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Sr Alison Joy

02/11/2017

I have prayed washed and dressed Sisters who have died and it helped me to see that death is not scary. I have lined a number of Sisters graves with flowers around the inner edge from the inside, also helpful. The body was received at Vespers in Chapel the day before, Solemn Requiem was the next day complete with asperges and incense. We returned from the graveside and when in Chapel sung a very joyful favorite hymn for the Sister we had just buried. It was always a sad, happy, remembering occasion I hope that I will be able to have most of this too.

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Sarah Lawton

02/11/2017

This is beautifully said.

When my parents died in a car crash, we knew our Episcopal church would be too small to accommodate all the mourners; but the local Roman Catholic congregation saw our need and graciously offered the use of their space for our Episcopal funeral (including Eucharist led by two Episcopal bishops). They also offered their pall for the second coffin as we had only one. All the churches and the synagogue in town offered choir members and/or food for the feast after the service. An ecumenical, indeed, interfaith foretaste of heaven!

We placed the two bodies in closed coffins in our Episcopal church the night before; we prayed Evensong and Compline, and received a long line of visitors; and then parishioners kept vigil with the bodies all night. In the morning we prayed over the bodies before beginning the procession to the larger RC church where the (Episcopal) funeral was to be held. In this sad, glorious service sang many, many Easter hymns, and I learned that it’s possible to sing and sing even through tears. I’m told that people reconciled that day who had not spoken in years – I’ve heard it from both parties (one now a bishop).

All of which is to say: our Episcopal Way of Death can be a profound grace if we let it. It can be profound too when it’s a simple, small, quiet service for a person who has lived a long life and died of old age (unlike my parents). It’s the same words, the same truth of loss – all of us pass through this life but for a moment – the same mystery, the same words of affirmation and hope at the grave: alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  02/11/2017
  
  Thank you for posting that – bearing witness to exactly what I was trying to say.
  
  Reply
2. Michael Povey
  
  04/11/2017
  
  Thanks Sarah. (Other readers, Sarah is a friend. I was at the Funeral and heard her offer the most profound Gospel Centred and Honest Grief eulogy I have ever heard)
  
  Reply
  1. Sarah Lawton
    
    29/11/2017
    
    Dear Michael, thank you for saying that. Your presence that day was a blessing to our family. That gathering, for all the shock and sadness, really did feel like a foretaste of heaven, didn’t it? A great cloud of witnesses singing with us.
    
    Reply
Ronnie Smith

02/11/2017

Having attended a few funerals in our parish recently – one of them for our Vicar, who died on Easter Eve – and being nearer to the grave myself (at 85 and still active as a priest) I appreciate, Father Kelvin, the care you take over this special subject. The Church can be so close to families at this special time – giving them a taste of ‘The great love of God as revealed in the Son’ – precious at this time.

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Tony Whatmough

04/11/2017

There are sometimes good reasons for having the cremation first, as there was for my brother yesterday especially with people traveling and wanting to be able to bury the ashes on the same day. They key is to talk with the family about what they are looking for and how it can be done.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  04/11/2017
  
  Dear Tony, I’m sorry to hear that you’ve lost your brother. May be rest in peace and rise in glory.
  
  There are always reasons why people want to have a cremation first and people always believe that they are good reasons. Every single time there are reasons. My contention is that I’m unpersuaded that any of them justify changing what we believe. (What we do and what we believe being utterly bound up with one another in such circumstances).
  
  My point about funerals is very precisely that the wishes of the family are important but that no tradition will survive if we simply abandon what we believe for reasons of convenience.
  
  Reply