• Easter Day Sermon 2024 – It is started

    It comes in waves, grief does.

    It is not a constant thing. And when you think that you are moving on another wave can hit you by surprise and leave you right back in the place you were trying to crawl out of.

    A big part of my life over the last 18 months has been adjusting to a world in which two of my friends are no longer present. Unexpected deaths, relatively young. Lives cut short. Ministries in the church unfinished. And friends left behind.

    I am a friend left behind.

    And so I find as I approach the Easter story this year, that my eye is drawn very strongly to those who make their way to the tomb to anoint the body of the Lord. Those who were grieving.

    The gospels tell of a number of people who make their way to the tomb in the first light of the day. Women first and foremost in their love. And in their grief.

    What are they thinking as they make their way to the tomb? Well, I don’t just know what they are thinking, I can feel it.

    Waves of grief, numbness and despair.

    Grief comes in waves.

    And in those depths, grief is a most bitter companion.

    I will admit to not having always been myself when I have felt those waves of grief. I have not been the person I’d want to be.

    And this year I have found myself not living in the kind of world that I want to live in either. There is much that leaves me grieving for a better world that we glimpsed and then saw snatched away.

    The continuing Russian war directed against Ukraine has destabilised a Europe which seemed to have found the way of peace.

    The ongoing horror in the Middle East has not simply destabilised the world, it has disturbed our minds and made peace – salaam and shalom feel agonisingly out of reach.

    Warmongering, terrorism and the weaponizing of civilians leave me grieving for the world I had hoped for. For too many months, gross injustice in Gaza has been played out on our newscreens, For too many months kidnapped hostages have been away from all whom they love.

    It is easy to feel that hope has been killed, and has been buried forever in a cold, stone-sealed tomb.

    But comes the dawn and come the women to the tomb.

    They come weeping. They return rejoicing.

    The news that they proclaim on Easter Day is that death never has the last word. And hope triumphs when all seems lost.

    Have we ever needed to hear the news of Easter more – that Jesus is risen from the grave, that despair doesn’t win, that green blades of growth rise from all that seemed buried and gone.

    Grief comes in waves. But so does love.

    And the waves of love that spread out from what those women shared in the first light of the first Easter Day changed their world, change our world and will go on changing the world as we spread it ever further.

    • God has not forgotten the broken hearted.
    • God has not forgotten the grief-stricken.
    • God has not forgotten those for whom despair has become almost who they are.

    That wave of God’s love did not begin on Easter Day, for it is as old as time, but Christ risen from the grave is when we witness its greatest triumph.

    Love, hope and belief in new life are not optional extras for Christian people. They are the reason we are who we are and do what we do.

    Despair and grief are real, even the bitter grief of hopes dashed. But the story of who we are doesn’t conclude by the side of a grave. Our story begins at an empty tomb.

    Yes, the world is a mess.

    But it has you and I in it and we know by the story that we preach and proclaim that new life is our inheritance and our hope. Things never have to remain the way they are.

    This year will be a year of great change in this world. Momentous change. This is the year in which more people will vote in elections than have ever done since the democratic era began.

    Every part of the world needs people in it who believe in a better world, a world where justice for the poor, integrity for those who govern and kindness for the troubled are the building blocks of the world we wish to see.

    This year our election process in this country could well be a painful and hurtful time.

    It demeans us all when an election is portrayed in the simplistic banality of a phrase such as stop the boats. Such language threatens those who need help most and diminishes us all. It is the language of the tomb. We need to move the conversation away from Stop the Boats towards Stop the Hatred.  Xenophobia, fear of foreigners and naked racism are already dancing behind the words of too much electioneering.

    But ultimately it will not win.

    Good people believe in better things.

    God’s people believe in better things.

    Sometimes hope feels like something you have determinedly try to drag out of yourself. Sometimes though it bursts forth from no-where. A wave of love joy, hope and peace bursts unexpectedly from our inner tomb.

    The promise of Easter is not that new life is possible it is the promise that it is inevitable.

    And I believe it.

    Christians believe in a better world than we already have. We believe in a world where the poor are fed, the lonely are comforted and the sound of war is heard no more in any land. We believe in salvation – the healing of the world.

    The story that we are caught up in as Christian people on Easter Day is the story of salvation. And salvation is not the church bobbing around on the waves of this world plucking a few lucky souls to safety. Salvation is the great wave of God’s love that will sweep us all home.

    Early this morning, we baptised people into this story, confident that they will bring new life into this world and confident that they will rise with Christ.

    Early this morning we lit a fire and brought candlelight into this church to proclaim that gloom will not win. Light and glory will cast every shadow away.

    Early this morning, Christ rose from the grave. Not only is death not the end but new life is real. The wave of God’s love has reached all the world. It has even reached us here. It has come to you.

    I believe in things worth believing in.

    New life for all. Love, joy and peace in abundance.

    And I believe that Jesus Christ is risen from the grave. For if Christ were not risen from the grave then we would not be gathered here, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

    Amen

18 responses to “To the synod office”

  1. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > Would it be out of the question, Robin, for Ms Goldie to become the new Bishop of Glasgow and Galloway?

    As far as I know, it would be OK, since she’s baptised and over 30! And Glasgow & Galloway has had a Bishop Goldie before, so there’s precedent!

  2. kelvin Avatar

    Robin – we are in the process of removing the 30 year lower age limit for bishops this year. If Ms Goldie turns out to be younger than we think, she is still in with a shout.

    David – thanks for your post. It is similar to what’s been said to me in synod. To be honest, as someone whose formative years were mainly in a part of the country where the dominant industry was coal, the idea that the farming/rural economy has been particularly ill treated by either European or national government thinking has always seemed very puzzling.

    There are many things which bring town and country together. Clergy complain of the same degrees of isolation in town and country, for example. People also often complain about the ability of young people in the country to find affordable housing locally. However, to someone who has lived succesively in Perth, Bridge of Allan and the West End of Glasgow, that complaint again seems to unite rather than divide us.

    As for field sports, I feel less strongly about the sports themselves than I did when I was younger. However, I feel more strongly than ever that all of us, whatever sector of society we live in can only muddle along by a common respect for the law and it has sometimes been difficult for someone like me to perceive such a respect in those advocating certain field sports.

    I don’t think field sports are a human rights issue. And I don’t think that civil disobedience (ie lawbreaking) is an appropriate or proportionate response to the banning of hunting with hounds.

  3. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > Robin – we are in the process of removing the 30 year lower age limit for bishops this year.

    Is this to remedy the understandable confusion potentially caused among electors by your being eminently ‘episcopabile’ while you still look as if you’re well under 30?

  4. kelvin Avatar

    I’m ridiculously flattered on all counts. But no – I’m 42.

    Lower age limits are being removed from ordination canons because of the risk of it being seen as age discrimination.

    (Well, actually, because it was clear age discrimination).

  5. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > But no – I’m 42.

    So you *are* the answer to the riddle of the Universe!

    I’d have imagined there would have been an exemption for such things. An 18yo Bishop would be a bit ridiculous, to say nothing of the risk of being stuck with her/him if she/he proved a bad choice. However, I don’t expect it will make any practical difference. Even under the existing Canon, did we ever have a Bishop as young as 30? The youngest I can think of was my own mentor, Bishop George Sessford, who was 42 when he was consecrated . . .

  6. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    I meant to write,

    “being stuck with her/him for half a century if….”

  7. David Bayne Avatar
    David Bayne

    “Annabelle, our Bishop” has a certain something, don’t you think?

    The age restrictions on Ordination that we are in process of removing did have a point. They were introduced across most post-Reformation denominations (I’m not sure about the RCC) to prevent beardless youths being presented to (with!) prosperous and influential livings by well-connected parents. My favourite Scottish example is Alexander Stewart, the illegitimate son of James IV who was made Archbishop of St. Andrews in 1504 at the age of 14 – or, possibly, 11. The archdiocese didn’t have to cope with a half-century episcopate, though: he died fighting beside his father at Flodden.

    Being of a slightly earlier vintage than The Provost, it’s the moving of the upper limit that has me exercised. Combined with the hole in the pension fund, it hints at a return to “ad vitam aut culpam” By the time people are worried about me having done 50 years in CD, I’ll be 97………..

  8. Andrew Avatar
    Andrew

    I think that it is nearer to the mark to describe ‘The Scottish Field’ (or was when we lived in Bromley and it was the most exciting post of the month) as ‘Unionist’
    The Editor in the 1950’s lived about 2 miles away in South London so The Scottish Field kept us in touch with Jimmy Shand, John Buchan, The Edinburgh Tattoo and The Fortingall Yew Tree. And those sherry party photographs to commemorate Law Firm anniversaries. We couldn’t recognise anyone but they looked nicer than the people who came to our own parties. So we grew in ignorance monthly as we happily anticipated another 3 weeks in Pitlochry.
    However in 2009, Old SF’s appearing in Room 1 must herald the employment of a dentist in Forbes House, or a gentle reminder of ‘The Homecoming’. I believe they provide the ‘Peoples Friend’ at 121 George Street, but I could be wrong.

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