• It was 30 years ago today…

    It seems extraordinary to me that it is thirty years since I stood with others in Deans Yard in London outside the meeting of the General Synod of the Church of England waiting for news.

    It was a long day and one that many had worked towards tirelessly, for many years.

    It was the day that the Church of England finally decided that women should be ordained to the priesthood.

    Well, I say that people had worked tirelessly towards that day but the reality was that many were extremely tired. Women had been ordained deacons some years before and were waiting to find out whether their vocations to priesthood would be affirmed or rejected simply on the basis of their gender. There were cruelties along the way. There was a great deal of abuse along the way and some people were just plain exhausted by the time the vote came.

    Thias was the only period of my life when I ever was connected with the Church of England for any time. I was working in the chaplaincy of the University of London at Mile End, whilst pursuing ordination in the Scottish Episcopal Church. I was in the Church of England but not of it and the Scottish Episcopal Church was engaged in the very same conversation.

    In England, the Movement for the Ordination of Women was the organisation which was pushing for change. In Scotland it was the Movement for Whole Ministry that was rallying the troops. In theory at least, the Movement for Whole Ministry did not see its purpose as being solely about the ordination of women. The idea at the time was that once it had got that priority out of the way, then attention turn to other matters. In the event, once women were ordained in the Scottish Episcopal Church and the focus moved to issues surrounding same-sex couples, the Movement for Whole Ministry shut itself down rather than take up that cause – the first time that I realised that not all ordained women were going to be helpful on LGBT issues, something that remains strikingly clear in the Church of England even today.

    That’s worth coming back to on another day but today isn’t the day to linger on it, for my mind keeps going back to Dean’s Yard. In any case, progress for LGBT causes would be unimaginable without the fundamental assertion of feminism that people should be treated equally.

    From that day in November in Westminister, I can remember the agony of so many women whom I knew as they were waiting for news. The result when it came was not a foregone conclusion.
    For me, today is a day of rejoicing in the gifts of so many astonishing priests that the churches would not have had if those decisions had not been made in those years. I think of the weddings blessed, the mourners comforted, the hundreds of thousands of communicants who have been fed and nourished by the ministry of women who have been ordained in the years since. These things are impossible to quantify; love and grace in ministry, so wide and broad and deep that it cannot be measured.

    I remember with thanksgiving those who were pioneers. And I remember today that only so many battles have been won. Ordained women often get abuse in the streets when in clerical wear even now, younger women being particularly targetted. And women still don’t have parity of opportunity either in secular environments or in ecclesiastical ones.

    There are battles still to be won. But thank God for progress when it comes. And thank God for the decision made 30 years ago today.

9 responses to “The Lament Question”

  1. kimberly Avatar

    ask it in the singular, and the answer is: because you’re a four.

    you’ll have me playing the funeral ikos next.

  2. kimberly Avatar

    the other answer is about possibility being revealed in limits.

  3. kelvin Avatar

    Its not just me though, and not just fours.

  4. Aaron Orear Avatar

    I think because sorrow touches the core of the human condition – we are mortal but can perceive immortality. “He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Eccl. 3:11)

  5. Erp Avatar
    Erp

    I understand Aristotle talks about catharsis and various philosophers have followed up on that idea.

    Perhaps it arouses sadness both from the art itself but also from our own sources festering within and allows us to let go. We feel better for the letting go, the lessening of our own internal sadness, and so perceive the art as beautiful.

  6. RosemaryHannah Avatar
    RosemaryHannah

    Kimberly was there before me. However, even I, a nine, can sometimes see the beauty in sad things. For me they do two things (may be more but two are most obvious). The first is the catharsis thing. The second is to make me less lonely. Look, here am I weeping, but all around me people sit in the same sorrow. It is not just my sorrow – I am not alone.

    I have long thought there is another answer, one I do not properly understand but I have (I think – and who am I to think it). Deep in God there is a huge well of sorrow. Unless we experience sorrow we cannot understand God. When we sorrow we tap into that well, and become closer to him.

    And being a nice cheerful nine, I will now add that I live in hope that having sorrowed with him, we will share also and even more fully in the joy which swallows the sorrow. Delete this last paragraph from your mind on reading, it will only spoil the joy of the sorrow.

  7. Elizabeth Avatar
    Elizabeth

    Edgar Allan Poe said the most beautiful thing in the world is a beautiful, dead woman. Nice, eh?

  8. Ritualist Robert Avatar
    Ritualist Robert

    Surely it’s because the concept of beauty is independent from concepts such as ‘sadness’ and ‘happiness’ – just as a G major chord might be loud or soft, but that volume has no effect on its G major-ness.

  9. Steve Avatar
    Steve

    I remember Augustine saying (don’t ask me where) that for a picture to be beautiful it requires dark colours as well as bright.

    There is also a hint of an answer in this poem by Edwin Muir:

    Yet still from Eden springs the root
    As clean as on the starting day.
    Time takes the foliage and the fruit
    And burns the archetypal leaf
    To shapes of terror and of grief
    Scattered along the winter way.
    But famished field and blackened tree
    Bear flowers in Eden never known.

    Blossoms of grief and charity
    Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
    What had Eden ever to say
    Of hope and faith and pity and love
    Until was buried all its day
    And memory found its treasure trove?
    Strange blessings never in Paradise
    Fall from these beclouded skies.

Leave a Reply

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

Previous Posts

  • Pilgrimage Days – Who on Earth Are You?

    I’m looking forward to hosting two Diocesan Pilgrimage Days at St Mary’s on 20 and 27 February 2016 exploring the theme “Who on earth are you?” It is difficult to think of a better week for exploring our identity as Episcopalians but it isn’t going to be all about the Columba Declaration. We’ll be focussing…

  • The Primus’s Radio Interview about the Columba Declaration

    It is incomprehensible to me that the Church of England establishment, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, can have claimed in the English Synod yesterday that the Scottish Episopal Church is “content” with the Columba Declaration and sees it as a positive move forward when the Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church is describing it as…

  • Sermon – preached on Valentine’s Day/Lent 1

    So. It is Valentine’s Day and the church bids us to go with Jesus into the desert. Well, that’s the story of my love life. But what are we to think today? How are we to deal with this story of Jesus being tempted in the desert? Jesus gets led in the desert, we are…

  • The Columba Declaration

    Just before Christmas, something extraordinary happened in the life of the churches. Someone in the Church of Scotland leaked the full text of a proposed ecumenical agreement to a journalist from the Telegraph newspaper. I believe that the journalist in question had heard of the agreement, known as the Columba Declaration, and had contacted the…