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.

6 responses to “What institutional homophobia looks like”

Edward Andrews

19/04/2017

Yes, I noticed that as well. It is nothing to do with what was said on both sides (the internal conversation in the Kirk) everything to do with what was said or about people who are gay.
I would however put in a plea of mitigation for him in that he has to reflect what the institution can get away with. Personally I would have no problem if the so called Confessing Bunch (which an abuse of the name of the Church of Barth and Bonhoeffer neither of whom they would give house room) packed their traps and left, but John can’t say that because that is not policy, though I know a number of people who feel my way.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  19/04/2017
  
  I think the problem here is not so much what the institution can get away with but that the words he says are factually wrong. What the Assembly is being asked to do is not what he says the Assembly is being asked to do.
  
  As I’ve said, I recognise the pressures on someone in his position. But that’s kind of the point.
  
  Reply
Fr Keith

19/04/2017

Extremely well put, Kelvin…

Reply
Richard Ashby

19/04/2017

Since I don’t know the man I have no idea whether or not he is homophobic personally, but you’re quite right. That’s not what the report says. And in anycase why apologise for only ‘some’ of the harsh things. What about the rest?

Reply
Bryan Kerr

24/04/2017

Hey Kelvin,
Thanks for your post.
I think it is helpful as someone who is going into preparation for the General assembly.
I hear what you say … I for one, on behalf of me, my congregation (the one I serve now, the ones in which I have served and the one in which I grew up), and my denomination seek to apologise unreservedly for any ways in which we have treated those who are LGBTI in any way which falls short of mirroring the love of God.
John was in a challenging position, defending a report which had been leaked to the media before he could get his head around it fully. He may have been the secretary of the forum but our timescales mean this report would have been finalised in late January and, since then, as Principal clerk, he will have been through every other report going to Assembly.
Perhaps, we might see this as more of a need for a refresh of what the leaked report said in its entirety at a time when called for comment out of the blue, than anything else. I would imagine that might be close to the mark in this one!
Blessings.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  25/04/2017
  
  Thanks for your comments, Bryan.
  
  I’m struggling a bit with your interpretation of what happened. The report doesn’t call for “both sides” to apologise – that isn’t even it’s tone. And in the rest of the news report, the Principal Clerk is shown sitting at a table reading it.
  
  I do hear your desire to think the best of him – and honestly, this isn’t personal, I’m sure he is lovely.
  
  The consistent experience that I have is that the most difficult things that are said about gay people come from people who would claim to be supportive.
  
  A number of gay C of S clerics were in touch with me to affirm that they had heard these comments in the same way that I have outlined above.
  
  Reply