What is in Kelvin's Head?

Sermon preached at Midnight Mass

25/12/2016

Inevitably I think the end of 2016 will be thought about the end of all kinds of things. Post Brexit. Post Trump. Post truth.

It is as though we have reached the end of something and don’t know what’s coming next.

Time in the secular world stretches straight out in front of us. Time in the spiritual realm bends always towards justice.

But time in the liturgy just keeps on going round and round.

And so the liturgy reminds us of truths that we would otherwise miss.

Post referendum. Post US election. Post facts. And post certainty.

But in the beginning was the Word.

The liturgy brings us right round to what comes at the beginning, that which is foundational for us, that which cannot be argued with because it has always been so and always will be so.

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God.

A very great deal has been written about the effect of Jesus’s life and of course his death. People have debated, argued, even warred with one another about quite what difference it made that he came and lived and died.

But before that, is something that we should not simply pass us by just because we hear it on a dark, cold wintery night.

In the beginning. Before disagreement, before war, before strife, there was God.

And God looked at this world and loved it and wanted to be part of it.

Before the world began, this much was true – that God was there and God had compassion and God was love.

Before the world began, before not only our present darkness but before all darknesses, God was there and God brought life and light and truth.

Every year I wonder how to see something new to preach on for Christmas. Every year I wonder how to see something fresh in the story itself.

This year a friend told me a few months ago that his mother (whom I don’t know) was knitting me something.

Not a Christmas jumper or a Christmas hat. But the Christmas story itself.

I was presented with a whole crib scene made of knitting figures for the church. A knitted Mary, a knitted Joseph, knitted Magi and shepherds and sheep. And yes, a knitted Jesus.

It is a work of art, and I’ve no doubt a work of love too. You don’t put that kind of work into something like that for someone you don’t know without a lot of kindness in your heart.

And they sit here in church this year with an invitation to the children and everyone who is young at heart, to meet the characters afresh (even the sheep). I’m encouraging the children (and whoever wants to) to take up the characters and to think about what is represented there.

To take up Mary and ponder what it mean to bring to birth the creator of the universe who already loved us.

To take up Joseph and wonder what was going through his head as he stood by Mary. The love of the one who already loved us is known through such human kindness.

To take up the shepherds and encounter those whom the world might least expect to receive a revelation from an angel. Whom do you encounter whom you find it difficult to believe God would be bothered with. Trust me on this one, God is way ahead of you whoever it is. For God has already loved them since before forever.

To take up the strange Magi, knitted robes and knitted beards and knitted gifts and all and reflect on the fact that God’s love seems to extend to the kosher and non kosher worshippers alike. And to know that those outside our own definitions of belonging are already known and loved by God anyway.

To take up and cradle in the palm of your hand the Christ child who once cradled the dawn of time in his.

For in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God.

Every year I wonder how to say something new about the Christmas story.

Every year, I eventually come to the conclusion that the only thing to do is to let the original story stand on its own two feet.

For in the beginning God was. In the beginning God came. In the beginning God loved.

And we are who we are because of it.

The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

Not post glory. Not post grace. Not post truth.

The real thing.

Born amongst us. Born this night. Born in our hearts.

And with us, God with us, as time began.

And with us, God with us, as a baby was born.

And with us, God with us, right here and right now.

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

Amen.

post-truth

8 responses to “More sermons”

ryan

25/07/2008

Listened to one of the sermons (the wife for Isaac one) and it struck me that the one thing all proper episcopal preachers that I’ve heard have in common is an attractive voice. Is this taught at theological college, or are prospective ordinands vetted, Simon Cowell on X Factor style?

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kelvin

25/07/2008

You are too kind Ryan. And the idea that people at theological college should be taught anything to do with preaching is delightfully charming.

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morag

25/07/2008

just read the kingfisher sermon,you really do have a beautiful way with words and imagery.I believe God is with us every day.I was walking with my dog in Kelvingrove park the other night and in the pond standing quite still and majestic was a large heron.He looked magnificent but nobody else seemed to notice they just walked on by.God is definitely in my local park,Victoria.There is a sort of semi wild section of large yellow Peace roses there and their scent is truly heaven “scent”I love to sit theredrinking it in and have quiet thoughts with God.This web page you have is truly unique and it is wonderful to come across someone in the church who so obviously has a living ,loving relationship with God

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David |daveed|

26/07/2008

And the idea that people at theological college should be taught anything to do with preaching is delightfully charming.

May I beg to differ, at least for this side of the pond.

Both of the seminaries which I attended in the USA, had a department with professors dedicated to teaching homiletics & worship. At Perkins School of Theology, SMU, we took two required semesters, which included writing weekly sermons to be delivered in class for critique by both professors and classmates. Each semester we also had three sermons which were videotaped at staggered points in the class for us to be able to witness and have record of our own improvements.

I was even asked to preach one of my three in my native Spanish and was critiqued by the hispanic community, staff & students at Perkins.

Preaching and Worship are pretty standard fare at seminaries in the USA & Canada.

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kelvin

26/07/2008

My apologies, David. I’d forgotten that we had gone global.

I would say that I learned a lot about liturgy and worship during my training, much of it from other students. I don’t think there was much more than 15 minutes devoted to homiletics in all my training.

I think that the theory was that this would be done whilst on placements in congregations. Although one can learn a lot in such placements, I think that preaching is something that everyone can always learn to do a bit better and that the church should not be shy of trying to teach.

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ryan

26/07/2008

I’m always curious as to whether preachers write out a full script of a sermon, actor giving a reading style, or if there is an element of improvisation. A 60 minute sermon,at average speaking speed, works out at 6,000 words which is surely a lot to write out in full each week.And what happens if there are pastoral crises that prevent completing the writing of a sermon? Do you guys have a folder of back-up material for such occasions? Are you allowed to plagiarise or is that a big a vice as it is in academia?

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kelvin

26/07/2008

Thanks Ryan. Those are good questions.

First of all, no-one in their right mind preaches for 60 minutes in the UK, do they? I think you will find on listening to mine that you get about 12 minutes. I think that if you are a regular preacher and you can’t say what you want to say in St Mary’s in 15 minutes you’ve probably started to preach next week’s sermon a week early. My recent one about dating strategies was just over 10, and there was a lot packed in!

The readings that we use come round in a three year cycle so quite often one may have as a starting point what was said three years ago or six years ago. Using a common lectionary also means that a lot of people are preaching on the same thing at the same time and there are a lot of websites with emergency resources and other people’s ideas.

I’d say that most preachers use other people’s ideas. Often it is nice to acknowledge them. Since putting all mine online, I’d say that I use other people’s material much less. I do sometimes use things that I’ve used before and in other contexts. If it was worth saying once, it might be worth saying again. Again, however, putting it online makes that kind of thing more risky now. They might have heard the jokes before.

In a good week, I will have been thinking about the lectionary readings all through the week even through the pastoral events that come along. They feed into it somehow.

Lots of my influences come from people I encountered when I was reading Divinity at St Andrew’s University. At the time I learned a lot from a prominent feminist theologian and have since learnt the importance of the Liberation Theologians that people were trying to get me to appreciate. At the time, it bored me silly. Now it is the stuff of life.

They key is to develop a range of ways of reading the Bible. A repertoire of styles.

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David |daveed|

27/07/2008

Ryan, there are many styles, and we all have to find which of them is a best fit for us personally. I know a few who preach from the barest of notes on a 3 x 5 card. Others who read verbatim from a type written manuscript. I think the majority of us type a manuscript and refer to it, however, certainly not slavishly, leaving room to expand or alter “as the Spirit moves.”

The axiom I was taught by both John Holbert and Marjorie Procter-Smith was that if you preach more than 15 minutes, you do not know what you are talking about.

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