What is in Kelvin's Head?

Conversations with Catholics (and others)

08/01/2016

Over the next couple of weeks, I’m trying something new and a bit different at St Mary’s. I’m offering coffee and a chat to a couple of different kinds of people who are always present within the congregation. Tomorrow morning (Saturday 9 January 2016) I’m having a coffee morning for people in the congregation who have Roman Catholic roots. There’s always a significant number of such people in St Mary’s and I thought it might be interesting to get some of us together for a chat. In a fortnight’s time I’ll be repeating the exercise with those who have a background as evangelicals. I’ll see how these go and then see whether there’s any other groups which might want to meet. A couple of people said that they grew up as presbyterians and they should have a coffee morning but I’m not sure whether that one is one to go for or not. Another possibility that I’ve thought of is a chat with those who fit the Spiritual Seeker profile – those who’ve meditated with Buddhists, banged their drums, sweated in their sweat lodges, spun in circles and knitted their own lentils. We’ve always got a fair representation from that constituency and it might be interesting to gather such people together.

However, I’m starting with catholics because I know that those who come from a Roman Catholic background have a common conversation though not necessarily a common experience. Some come to St Mary’s who are quite clear that they are Roman Catholics still and that St Mary’s just happens to be a resting place for them on their journey. Others have an articulate conversation about what they have left behind and why they needed to move on from the Roman Catholic church and find something new. Rather intriguingly there’s a mix between those who come to St Mary’s because it allows them to live out their catholicism and those who come because it allows them to say that they’ve moved on from it.

St Mary’s offers an interesting place for those with catholic roots to worship. For many there’s the surprise that the worship is just like the worship that they have known within Roman Catholicism.

I once said to a liturgist that it wonderful, amazing and surprising that the modern Roman Catholic Mass was so similar to the liturgy of the Scottish Episcopal Church. “Not amazing at all!” he exclaimed – “we all of us, Romans and Anglicans and all the rest went to the same liturgy conferences in the 1970s”. Sadly in recent years with the new translation of the Roman Catholic mass into (terrible) English, we’ve moved a little further apart again but you can still very much recognise that things are essentially the same.

I’m soemtimes puzzled by the reactions of Roman Catholics who find themselves present in St Mary’s. We often have tourists who come from Roman Catholics countries who presume that it is a Roman Catholic church. They do so even, in my experience, when a female colleague has been celebrating at the Sung Eucharist. This puzzles me. But also encourages me a little.

For many from a catholic background we provide what they would have hoped for from their own church – a mass they recognise, social teaching on sexuality, marriage and divorce that is as positive as the catholic social teaching on economics that they believe in and a shared love and devotion to the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist alongside a love for his mother too. There are no doubt negatives – the sorrow of families feeling parted by church divisions over the Eucharist. (Everyone is welcome to receive in St Mary’s but that doesn’t begin to scratch the deep irritations surrounding who is and who is not able to receive communion in various churches). There are also confusing messages that the Scottish Episcopal Church sends out about membership that we might talk about. People tend to know they are Roman Catholics and tend not to be entirely sure whether they are Scottish Episcopalians. That could well be part of the conversation.

I’m looking forward to this and expect I’ll learn things. The invitation is open to anyone who wants to come and have a coffee with me in the Synod Hall on Saturday morning at 10.30.

4 responses to “To be an Episcopalian is not to be respectable”

Eamonn

23/08/2017

Superb take on this difficult story from Matthew, and the other stories of Jonathan Daniels and Robin Angus. Thank you.

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Philip Almond

23/08/2017

But Mark records Jesus as saying, ‘Permit first to be satisfied the children;for it is not good to take the bread of the children and to the dogs to throw[it]’. That word ‘first’ tells us that Jesus already knows that there will be a ‘second’, that his ministry will extend beyond the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

These words of Jesus also suggest that ‘I was not sent except to the lost sheep of [the] house of Israel’ refers to this phase of his ministry.

Also, if the following incidents were earlier in time than the incident of the healing of the woman’s daughter, your

‘In that moment, she seems to know his mission to save the whole world considerably better than he did. And she changes him. He thinks again’.

is disproved.

Luke’s account (chapter 4) of the visit to Nazareth, because Jesus’ reference to Naaman and the widow of Sidon suggest that he was aware that his mission, like that of Elijah and Elisha, would extend beyond the covenant people.
Matthew’s account (chapter 8) of the healing of the centurion’s servant, giving rise to Jesus’ ‘And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven. But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth’.
Jesus’ explanation (Matthew 13) of the parable of the tares of the field: the one sowing the good seed is the Son of man; the field is the world (my emphasis); the good seed are the sons of the kingdom; the tares are the sons of the evil one.

What are your reasons for being sure that these three events are later in time than the healing of the woman’s daughter?

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Martin Reynolds

23/08/2017

We do not live for the poor, we do not live with the poor, we do not identify with the poor.
We wear silk vestment adorn ourselves with elegant titles and eat at the best tables and are welcome in the highest corridors of power.

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Sarah Lawton

29/11/2017

Kelvin, thank you for your email today pointing back to this sermon. I appreciate your pointing to Jonathan Myrick Daniels, who was a friend of my parents. My mother always felt she had a part in his death, I think, because she was one of the organizers of the seminary group that responded to the Rev. Dr. King’s call for church leaders to go to Selma, and it was she who persuaded Jon to go. One of her last acts on this Earth was to help put his name on our Church’s calendar (first reading, General Convention 1991). But then, we are baptized into Christ and therefore each other, which is I think what you are saying in this sermon. That means we are implicated in the ills of this world but also share in Jon’s martyrdom. We live in the hope of resurrection but the way there is through the utter scandal of the cross. Jon in his latter months of life rejected theologies of complacency and also self-righteousness as he committed himself to a ministry of presence.

Martin Reynolds, there is no question our particular church tradition has some history with money and power. My own little congregation identifies strongly with the poor, the folks sleeping rough right outside our doors, and the immigrant families of our neighborhood. Our Sunday services can be a little chaotic as a consequence of the varieties of folks in various states of mind who come on a Sunday, but our spiritual life as a congregation is pretty good; it honestly feels like a gift to be there in the communion circle. We’re a longtime LGBT congregation, so I think it’s part of who we are to have economic diversity and also a rejection of traditional social masks. We’re also deeply rooted in prayer, which is how we got through worst of the AIDS years and all the funerals.

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