What is in Kelvin's Head?

That Damn Magnificat

16/04/2022

A sermon preached in St Mary’s Cathedral on Good Friday 2022

There’s something about spending these three hours in a church dedicated to Mary.

Through the year, we often get particular joy from keeping the Marian festivals. We’ve got more music in the choir library about her than about any of the others who accompanied Jesus in this life.

We sing with her the Magnificat every Sunday at evensong. We share her joy. We share her hopes for a world turned upside down. Where the mighty would what they deserve. At last.

In a church dedicated to Mary, because we pay attention to her, we get a unique insight into her Son Jesus. Because she was there. There at the beginning when he was born. There when he taught the learned teachers in the temple. There sometimes when he was teaching the rather more thick disciples and the adoring crowds. There when he performed the the first miracle – water into wine.

What did she think when that one happened?

Go my son. That’s the world we want. A world put right. A world where God breaks in and joy breaks out.

But the trouble for us is that having accompanied her through all of this, we now find ourselves in his company again.

Mary stands at the foot of the cross. It is almost unimaginable that she was able to stay. But presumably unimaginable for her to leave until it is over.

And a few other women comfort her and stand beside her in her agony.

And John, the beloved. He’s there too. Ready to take her in.

We enter into Mary’s experience when the going is good. How on earth do we enter into her experience today.

Can we see this day through her eyes or is it entirely beyond what we can bear to think of?

It is common in newsgathering to tell the story of disasters through the tears of parents weeping for their children. Mothers particularly.

A whole war may be too much to take in. A whole nation invaded is expressed in arrows on a map, nothing more. A whole cities get bombed and we struggle to know one from another. It happens over there.

But a mother’s tears at a crucifixion…

Harder to ignore. Harder to walk on by.

Theological concepts are broken by the crucifixion.

Theories of how we are reconciled to God circle the crucifixion scene like vultures.

They are too big to grasp. And they offer no comfort to a mother weeping either.

What does she think as she stands there?

Can she think? Can she process this?

Raw. Present. The pain. The agony. The tears.

Three hours is long enough to think. This is a cruel death for those being crucified. This is a cruel death for those watching.

I’ve been haunted by a question this year as I try to keep company with Mary at the cross.

Did she hold fast to what she had believed about God – all the things that she had taught him?

Or did it all break down on that day?

One of the things that I love about Mary is that her spirituality seems to be about two things which she ties together.

The world being put right is one of her themes.

And the joy of singing God’s praises is another.

Now you can find plenty of other saints who loved those things. But Mary uniquely brings them together.

My soul magnifies the Lord. And my spirit rejoices in God my saviour.

He has shown the strength of his arm. And the proud and the mighty and the rich have got their comeuppance at last.

It is joyful spirituality. Full of cheek and full of fun.

And oh, how often when I hear Jesus giving clever answers that bring God right into the lives of people who need God most, or when I see him turning over the tables of those who are corrupt, I think, I bet he got that from her.

But as she stands at the cross, what on earth goes through her head.

What questions does this hell scene raise for her.

Does she keep repeating to herself again and again, “The mighty will be brought low. The mighty will be brought low. The mighty will be brought low”.

Or is it worse than that.

Does she loose faith with it all today?

As she looks on and smells death all around her does she call on God.

We have no words from Mary on Good Friday. Nothing is recorded from her.

I don’t know what she said.

But I guess that had it been me, I wouldn’t be singing of the goodness of God nor of a world put right.

I’d be thinking, “Shit! The bastards have won. I wish I’d never brought him up the way I did. What could I have done differently? I should have taught him to keep his mouth shut more.

That damn Magnificat. Look where it has got him.

I sang, God has filled the hungry with good things.

But I’ve not eaten in hours and I never want to eat again. My stomach is in knots as he twists and turns in agony.

I sang, from this day all generations will call me blessed.

But from this day all generations will call me cursed.

I sang about God sending the rich and the mighty and the powerful away empty.

But they’ve won. They’ve won. They’ve beaten him.

`I sang, He has come to the help of his servant Israel.

But God hasn’t come to his aid. He hasn’t turned up at all.

I sang about the promises that God had made to our forebears to Abraham and his children forever.

But he has forgotten me today.

It is finished.

My song is finished.

And I’ll never sing again.

15 responses to “The Scottish Episcopal Church and the upcoming Primates’ Meeting”

Christine

29/09/2017

Well said!

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1. Andrea Maier
  
  30/09/2017
  
  Concur!
  
  Reply
Lionel Deimel

29/09/2017

We can hope that new primates will change the ethos of the Primates’ Meeting. I’m making no bets on it.

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Phil Groves

29/09/2017

100% agreement.

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Eamonn

29/09/2017

Beautifully balanced – and witty, too! Well said!

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Meg Rosenfeld

29/09/2017

It’s happening here in the USA and unless you believe that our current president represents God’s punishment (personally, I think God wouldn’t be so tacky) we haven’t blown up yet. As you say, it’s about goodness and love–how radical can we get?

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Wayne Kamm

29/09/2017

Thank you for an excellent statement!

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Tobias Stanislas Haller

29/09/2017

Well said. Most of the Primates have only limited authority even within their own provinces, and absolutely no authority outside them. Trying to turn international Anglican conferences and meetings into disciplinary bodies is the stuff of fiction. All of that sort of pre-meeting hoopla makes the real work of the meeting, in terms of open dialogue and interaction, much more difficult.

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Drew_Mac

29/09/2017

Well said! There’s been lots of blogging recently about the sensitive consciences of those who inexplicably claim they will be ‘forced’ to marry same-sex couples. At the same time I’m being forced to send loving committed and legally married same-sex couples away without even a formal blessing. Respect for conscience should cut both ways.

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Andrew Bowdler

30/09/2017

Kelvin, listening can – and often does – result in disciplining. To try to separate them, as you have in your original piece, is therefore to miss the point. With the enormous divide that exists on this particular issue, one or other side is ultimately going to have to be ‘disciplined’ – and, no, discipline doesn’t have to be harsh or violent. It can equally be gently persuasive.

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1. Jo
  
  30/09/2017
  
  Isn’t the lesson from both TEC and the SEC is that no-one need be disciplined for following their personal conscience; the issue only arises when one side seeks to force the other to act against their conscience and only one side is doing that.
  
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2. Cynthia Katsarelis
  
  03/10/2017
  
  There’s no “gently persuasive” way to say that my spouse and I aren’t loved by God and our sacramental marriage deeply infused with God’s grace.
  
  Discipline should be to those who have supported criminalization of LGBT people.
  
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3. Richard Ashby
  
  03/10/2017
  
  Why should ‘listening’ result in disciplining? It should lead to understanding of an opposite point of view and respect for another’s conscience. Neither the primates nor Lambeth nor the Communion has any power to ‘discipline’ anyone and neither should it. We aren’t Roman Catholics and we don’t have a
  Pope. The Scottish Episcopal Church allow the exercise of conscience on both sides. The problem is that too many Christians want to impose their rules over against another persons conscience. That’s just not right.
  
  And what’s the point anyway? The ‘consequences’ haven’t changed the mind of the America Anglicans, the prospect didn’t stop the Scottish Church, it’s not going to stop Canada or South Africa.
  
  Reply
  1. Andrew Bowdler
    
    11/10/2017
    
    No society or organisation can allow diametrically opposing opinions on the same issue to be held with the same validity, Richard. They can, and often will allow for debate and ‘listening’ but in the long run, one opinion of the other has to be accepted over and against the other. Those who continue to hold the unsuccessful opinion will then have to accept the other, or face ‘discipline’ in one of a number of forms. When said society allows meaningless phrases such as ‘hate crime’ to brandied about with no legal or linguistic definition to support them, that society opens itself to a form of anarchy.
    
    Reply
    1. Richard Ashby
      
      11/10/2017
      
      But I thought that that the CofE has ‘two integrities’ on women as priests and bishops. What about ‘mutual flourishing’. In your view this is obviously impossible in long term (actually I happen to agree with you on that.) but what’s sauce for the goose etc
      
      We are supposed to be living side by side with these tensions. The Scottish Church has said that no one is to be forced to marry or not marry same sex couples. I know some people think that is impossible, I’ve been told so by members of ‘Christian concern’ etc. But we cannot allow these people to dictate to us what we hold by our consciences also to be true.
      
      Reply