• Sermon – post referendum

    Here’s what I had to say today in the pulpit following this week’s political turmoil after the recent referendum.


    Video: https://vimeo.com/172288986

     

    “Lord do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?”

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

    And Jesus says no.

    Do you want us to call down from heaven on them?

    And Jesus says no. He rebukes them and turns and went elsewhere.

    And that is the gospel for today. That really is the essence of the sermon for today.

    There seems to be rather a lot of us-ing and them-ing about at the moment.

    And they asked him whether to call down fire from heaven and he turns and goes another way.

    Like a lot of things in modern life, Jesus never had to face the consequences of a referendum or any kind of political vote. He knew absolutely nothing about democracy and we much always beware of lifting words from the bible and plonking them down in our own day as though they will sort out all our ills.

    But it seems that Jesus did live in a world where he knew about rage.

    We tend to think of the Samaritans as being a jolly good thing because we’ve got that parable of the good Samaritan and the wonderful listening charity of the same name.

    But the whole point of the Good Samaritan story is that everyone in Jesus’s immediate company believed the Samaritans to be downright bad. And we have a taste of that in this morning’s gospel.

    Jesus was heading to Jerusalem – his holy mountain. And that put him at odds with the Samaritan villagers of the place that he wanted to pass through who would have been looking towards Mt Gerazim rather than Jerusalem as the location where God’s salvation history would all be played out.

    Do you want us to call down fire from heaven on them?

    And Jesus turned away.

    I’m very conscious of reading this story in Glasgow in the weeks leading up to 12 July when the marching season is going full pelt.

    I recently was in the company of a prominent Roman Catholic member of the clergy when an Orange Walk was going on locally.

    I said to him that I was sorry to hear the noise of the those drumbeats still on our city streets.

    His reply was one of the saddest things I’ve heard, “oh,” he said, “it is just something we get used to”.

    And I made a mental note never to get used to it. Never to hear the beat of angry drums without remembering the look on that person’s face. Never to hear the beat of angry drums without remembering his sad words. And never to hear the beat of angry drums without asking myself what one step I can take to make peace, build peace and call people into loving respect for one another.

    I’m also conscious of reading this story in a part of the world which is still reeling from two referendums which have each in very different ways divided friends and split families and been fought with a passion that has sometimes spilled over into something much darker.

    Our political situation has put us right in the middle of various overlapping identity wars. And it is a confusing situation too. One brand of identity division doesn’t necessarily map onto another.

    I tend not to preach my politics directly from the pulpit though you don’t have to go far to find out what I think. I was, after all, a candidate for political office on two occasions as well as standing to be the Rector of one of Glasgow’s illustrious academic institutions a couple of years ago.

    I tend not to preach my politics from the pulpit not least because of my phenomenal lack of success in actually winning the elections I find myself standing in out of personal conviction, or maybe out of personal wanton stupidity and hubris.

    Indeed, sometimes when I’m asked to list my hobbies I’m tempted to put “losing elections” down as my principle pastime.

    But I think I would preach from the pulpit that each of us must stand up for what we believe in.

    And I think I would preach from the pulpit that each of us needs to be formed by the scripture that we read week by week and allow the Godly values that we find there to seep so deep into us that we are changed so that we can change the world.

    And I think I must preach from the pulpit this day the fruit of the Spirit: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. For this is our birthright, this is our dna, this is who we really are.

    While the identity wars rage around us, we are already beloved of God and the fruit of the spirit is our manifesto – the agenda that we pursue, the identity we preach.

    This evening three members of this congregation will be confirmed by Bishop Gregor. As they identify with our faith in prayer and in being anointed by the bishop, we pray that the Spirit will come upon them. And that fruit of the Spirit that we heard of in this morning’s second reading is the life we shout from the rooftops belongs to them and to whosoever seeks it and is the identity they tonight claim for themselves.

    This place is a place where the congregation that worships here is very politically active and whatever party any of us align ourselves with, whatever movement, whatever side of whatever referendum we find ourselves on, I hope that the manifesto of the spirit drives us and compels us to act and listen in God’s name wherever we find ourselves.

    A great deal of people don’t feel listened to at the moment.

    A great deal of people with little power feel unheard by a great deal of people with power and influence.

    And that’s my learning point in the middle of this particular turbulence.

    The prosperity and wellbeing of the many is the pathway to peace.

    The various fruit of the spirit may act as our stepping stones to get to a place of greater calm than we currently possess.

    This is a time of some turmoil. It feels as though everything is being thrown up in the air and none of us know quite where things will land.

    Let the fruit of the spirit be written on our hearts as we each take our part in finding answers.

    Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

    And remember.

    There will never be a referendum on the love of God.

    That decision was made long ago, once and for all and is eternal.

    God’s love is for everyone. In-ers, Out-ers. Voters. Non-voters. For the wise. For the foolish. For the foolish who don’t know they are wise. And for the wise who don’t realise they are foolish.

    And one day love will triumph and there will be no us and them at all.

    Just those who are beloved of God.

    Always and forever.

    Amen.

18 responses to “Whither the Chrism Mass?”

  1. Fr Keith Avatar
    Fr Keith

    I attended at St Paul ‘s Cathedral, London yesterday, after a gap of three years (when I’d been serving for Holy Week in the Diocese of Argyll and The Isles) – it was a moving service, though I’m now wondering whether that was as much for the opportunity to catch up with colleagues and worship with such a huge number of fellow clergy as for anything else. In Argyll and The Isles we do indeed celebrate the Chrism Mass in the context of the diocesan synod (as we did last month) – in fact, it’s at that Mass that the synod is constituted. It would be hugely impractical to get folk together on Maundy Thursday (easier and quicker for me to get to Oban from London than from Stornoway), and it does make more sense, it seems to me, to do such things (the blessing of oils, the re-commitment to one’s ministry) when gathered together with one’s bishop in synod.

  2. Andrew Dotchin Avatar
    Andrew Dotchin

    Suffolk unites Oils and Renewal of Commitment Ministry and includes prayer for healing with anointing and the Laying on of hands. Very powerful as we corporately recognise our vulnerability. Maundg Thursday works for us (for me) as it means we do not somehow fall into the Evening Service having run around doing the usual business of funerals and pastoral work. The year we had the Royal Maundy the Chrisma Mass was moved to Tuesday and it just did I not fit. A meal afterwards is also very important. The cathedral now offers a free bag meal to everyone but many do wander off to a local pub. For me it is the day when I, the only paid cleric in a team of six pay for the meal as my personal thanks for their service. Spouses and partners are also an important part of our way of doing things as their is a strong recognition that vocations are shared and supported within our own families

  3. Peter Avatar
    Peter

    Okay it’s hard for me to assume you are either Catholic or Anglican. I’ll assume you’re the former, like myself. I just returned from Chrism mass. It’ll be my last. Apart from the bishop facing the people ( which I detest as I believe unequivocally in ad orientem worship at mass) the crowds at this mass seem to give this liturgy a theatre like star studded atmosphere as they peer and talk among themselves about the identity of over 400 priests to choose from all straining and trying to verbally identify. Because priests are huddled in our cathedral in the center of the church, people who aren’t liturgically literate begin to recite those parts of the mass strictly reserved for priest e.g the consecration because the huge concelebration throws them off and they are following along in huge special programs. Then there is the “ communion pandemonium “ with clergy trying to speed things up by disrupting the flow of communion by suddenly giving it out at the rear of the church! And the overall sense of “ celebration” vs “ worship” due to so many addresses and welcomings that people feel free to simply talk rather than prayerfully follow along. Add to this the uncharitable crowds that jostle for a seat and squeeze an already packed pew beyond its capacity. Heaven help you if you need a washroom break and find out your seat was taken by one of these hustlers! ( as happened to me). If I had it my way, the old 1962 Latin liturgy would be restored. The one positive thing was that here in Canada tge chrism mass is not in Holy Thursday but either the Monday or Tuesday of Holy Week.

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Many thanks for illustrating my point so clearly.

  4. Malcolm Avatar
    Malcolm

    Out of curiosity, what liturgy is used for the Chrism Mass in the SEC? I don’t see an appropriate liturgy in Lent, Holy Week and Easter 2024, do cathedrals/dioceses just make the service up on the spot or am I missing something?

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      There is no authorised liturgy for a Chrism Mass in Scotland.

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