In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Shining brightly in the sanctuary, surrounded by flowers is the light of Easter – the Great Paschal candle. The fire that we kindled as day began and brought into church.
It shines at the significant moments here in church – when someone is baptised or is buried or is ordained and at all the big feasts that we have. The light of Easter touches them all. That’s just the way it is.
I have to confess that the Holy Easter Fire did seem to reach me a little early this year.
As I was coming into the church for evensong last Sunday evening, I picked up some dud batteries and put them in my pocket. And processed into church.
That is one of the most solemn services of the year. The choir sing Bairstow’s achingly beautiful lamentations.
As they sang the sorrowful words about the destruction of the city, unbeknown to me, one of the servers was lighting charcoal in another part of this place in order to burn incense later in the proceedings.
At just that moment, the batteries in my pocket must have made contact with the large bunch of keys that were already in there.
They don’t teach you when you are training to be a priest what you should do when you are conducting worship and can clearly smell burning and feel your loins suddenly getting hotter and hotter and hotter.
This led to a curious liturgical dance in which I began casting the contents of my pockets to the floor whilst the choir sang on and the smell of burning increased.
Nothing seemed to dislodge the batteries from the keys.
At this point the verger started to look at me for an explanation. He probably knew that I liked the Bairstow Lamentations but knew that I wasn’t jigging about because I was getting into the rhythm of the music.
I just looked at him and handkerchiefs and pens hit the floor and pointed to my nether regions with the word, “Fire”.
I’m not sure whether it is the mark of a well trained server that his reaction was merely to raise his eyebrows, close his eyes and return to his devotions.
Eventually I realised that I was not spontaneously combusting and that the hopes of all those who occasionally hope the fire of heaven will come down and consume me when I say something outrageously sensible were not coming to pass.
Holy Week had begun.
And the flames continued.
The particular pathos of the sight of Notre Dame burning in Paris in Holy Week is one that affected the world.
The striking image of a metal cross shining through the rubble was particularly poignant but it was a picture taken by a drone that particularly caused me to feel the agony of the situation.
The whole roof was burning. (At the time it seemed as though the whole of the interior was burning, though that appears not to have been the case). From above, the cross form of the cathedral was apparent. A cross shaped building all aflame.
Perhaps it was because of where we are right now in our local, European and world political situations, that it felt as though the whole of Western Culture was burning.
And yes, it was burning at the same time as there was a fire in the Al Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem and shortly after a number of black led churches had been torched in the USA.
God doesn’t plan these things to happen together. But God does give us the intelligence to recognise significant things happening before our eyes.
We are all in this world together. We are all in this fragile world together. And so much can be lost in the spate of just a few hours.
I found the sight of Notre Dame burning extraordinarily upsetting. I’m sure that people across the world who are in the cathedral business were affected the same way.
The fact that we are having Parisian music this week and next is a mere coincidence, but surely it helps us to pray for those whose place of worship today is the open air because the flames have deprived them of their holy space.
The talk is already of rebuilding.
What might this generation accomplish that faced with its destruction in nearly a thousand years, people would come out onto the streets to sing and to pray?
What made the chaplain to the firefighters in Paris run through fire to save the Blessed Sacrament and a relic that has been kissed by the faithful for the last thousand years?
And what did one man do two thousand years ago that brings us out of our beds and into this and another 37 million churches all over the world to sing and rejoice and proclaim the extraordinary news – “He is not dead but is risen”.
The answer to this worlds trouble does not lie in the fire of the bombers in Sri Lanka or the bullets of the terrorists in Northern Ireland.
The answer lies in the holy fire of Easter Day. That fire we kindle as we proclaim to the world the truth that we have found in Jesus, that new life isn’t just something for believers but is the way the world really is.
Light, life and love. These are the true way of the world. Death and destruction won’t win. Violence will never conquer. Death will never have the last word.
Every year as a Christian I see new life in new ways. Every year that passes I see something which confirms the faith I already know in my heart in the reality of the world.
It might be in courage, kindness or wisdom. Today’s proclaimation from the church calls all Christians to look out for resurrection. For it is the way the world really is.
Last year, I took a holiday in Istanbul and it was whilst I was there that I spotted something that made me know a new truth about Easter Day. Right in the middle of one of the more traditional Islamic parts of the city there’s an old church called St Saviour’s and in it there’s an ancient fresco that’s quite well known.
It depicts Easter. Jesus stands in the middle. Though there’s astonishing energy and movement to him as though he’s about to dance. And he has his arms out to his sides I the way people dance in Greece or Turkey and across the Middle East.
And his hands are indeed held out to two figures on either side – Adam and Eve, whom he’s hauling up from their graves.
The whole of humanity is rising. In that vision of Easter, no-one is going to be left behind.
And he’s not reaching out to them with a wee divine spark like God touching Adam on the Sistine chapel roof. No, he has them by the wrists. They are being raised up from the grave by a saviour who seems intent on making sure that no-one is left out of the great cosmic ceilidh of resurrection.
No matter what burns, our hearts are aflame with the news that Jesus is risen from the dead.
No matter how lost we might feel ourselves to be, our Saviour reaches out and grabs us and keeps us dancing.
No matter what… he is risen from the dead. Alleluia.
For, Alleluia – resurrection is the way that things really are.
For if Christ were not risen from the dead, we would not be gathered here, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
37 responses to “Keeping the faith”
It was an inspiring recitation. Following the English translation in the service sheet provided added insight to the life of Mary. All the more so as the cathedral is dedicated to St Mary. You are reminded of Mary every time you walk into the building with the Gwyneth Leech mural over the High Altar.
Kelvin is quite right. The very self-righteous defenders of the Bible (including the ones who trolled a brave young Muslim woman, for days, with the most vile language, and those who did not reprimand them) totally ignored the Biblical instructions for raising concerns with a brother in faith (Matthew 18:15; 2 Tim 23). Very practical instruction too! As anyone who has ever lived in community can verify. Could all these obsessive men *please* stop trying to divide our communities in Glasgow. We will not be divided. At the first sign of trouble we rush out to embrace one another. These abusers have much to repent of, even if *just* standing by while others throw stones.
I HATE it when the wrong tune is picked for a hymn … it is simply an abomination before God.
However, helping people to think about how we share hospitality, welcome and learn from each other is the WAY of God! Blessings on you Kelvin.
Some reasons why this time was different:
1. The other quaran recitations you mentioned happened at Nine Lessons and Carols, or special ecuminical and interfaith events. While 9L&C was originally a modified Evensong, nowadays it’s usually considered a seasonal community musical recitial with a religious tinge, so having a Muslim from the community recite something from their faith would seem natural enough. Civic and interfaith services will likewise naturally include representatives of every faith in the community. By contrast the Eucharist is the central act of Christian worship and people expect to hear ONLY Christian doctrine proclaimed in the Holy Eucharist. In other words, this was the wrong venue for showing hospitality to Muslim neighbors. You did not intend to practice syncretism, but I think the outcome was syncretic despite your good intentions.
2. Post Brexit (and post Trump) British Muslims are now seen as alien invaders rather than fellow members of the community.
3. Because hostility to Muslims is now fashionable, the Express and rest of the gutter press decided that this was a story worth reporting. Since conservative Americans often read the online editions of the British gutter press, the story then went global.
4. Because you are gay and out, your every action is scrutinized for any possible hint of heresy by GAFCON and Co.
Of all these reasons, only reason #1 is a legitimate criticism, but I hope you do think about criticism #1 as well as defending yourself from other, illegitimate criticisms.
Thank you for your comment Whit J – all the more because it is a thoughtful criticism.
I’ve plenty to reflect on about the how and the when we do things like that and I do hear loudly and clearly that many people think this was an inappropriate context. Though of course, I’d be bound to say that some are saying that the Eucharist is precisely the place indeed there are some saying that is what it is for.
I’m not going to get into a back and forth with all the comments on this post and I’m deliberately not letting through things that have already been said but be assured that I’ve heard the criticism and will reflect on it not simply now but over coming months. (I’ve learned a lot about where God is this week that will take a long time to process). I’m grateful for the way you’ve made your point.
I think there is a good deal in what Whit J says, although I am not sure the effect actually was syncretic. I think one does perhaps have to be a regular worshipper at St Mary’s to understand how totally orthodox the worship there is, and how much Jesus is the focus of worship – how utterly unlikely it is that anyone there would make the mistake of thinking he was not revered by the congregation as a whole as very God from very God. It would be impossible for them not to realise that all the clergy there rejoice in this belief. The congregation saw the words of the Qu’ran in an English translation which portrayed that book’s far-from-easy-to-follow account of Islam’s view of the conception of Jesus, in which there was nothing offensive, and heard a very beautiful voice singing in a strange and glorious language. These were clearly indicated to be the beliefs of another faith. We certainly neither saw or heard or understood any insult to the person of Christ. I am sure none was intended, either. Whereas, and this bears repeating, I am totally sure that many of those commenting (not of course by any means all of them, and nobody whose comments are published here) simply wish harm to relationships between the great faiths in Glasgow.
I have spent my whole adult life in dialogue with people of other religious traditions, it has been deeply rewarding. However I feel that what happened at this service was profoundly wrong. When we are truly ourselves we allow other people to be profoundly themselves. The truth of Christianity is not compatible with any other religion. To avoid that incompatibility is to avoid reality. Worship of Jesus is the fountain of our faith the Qu’ran is opposed to that. I love Jesus and therefore cannot conceive of reading the Qu’ran in an act of worship – no problem doing so in other contexts but not in worship. I am profoundly disturbed that you cannot see this Kelvin.
There are so many things aren’t there, not just around this issue which we hold dear in faith and which we can’t see from another perspective?
I can hear and see that people are upset by this and clearly there are many people not upset by it too. And obviously, at least I hope obviously, I love Jesus too.
The trouble with religious questions and the questions that religious people have I think is that so often that our love for our faith can make it impossible to comprehend others who also claim to love the same faith but who take different views about things. We can hear them claim that love but be intellectually unable to process it because it leads them to different conclusions.
I’ve found the same thing to be true in the sexuality debates very frequently though I perceive that to be changing sometimes now. Similarly with other identity issues and some political issues. Israel/Palestine conversations for example often seem to be conducted (when they are conducted at all) by people who seem to behave like ships passing in the night.
I happen to have views about Church Schools which are pretty intransigent and negative. You are one of the few people, no the only person, who ever made me really think there might be a point of view about them other than mine which might have an integrity I could respect. And I’m very grateful for that.
Kelvin, thank you for your reply. I have enormous respect for you. I have no doubt that church schools can be argued against from perfectly respectable positions. Worship of Jesus is simply a different order, it cannot include a reading from the Qu’ran. Worship is one thing, study, dialogue, relationship something else.
I am really grateful to Richard for the phrase “When we are truly ourselves we allow other people to be profoundly themselves” which reflects my experience of interfacing with sincere people of other faiths. Is a Christian Eucharist a place this should happen? I can understand some Christians feeling it is not, but as long as everything was clearly labelled as what it was and the integrity of the liturgy was intact, I can also understand some feeling it is.
Brother Kelvin,
Although I do not agree with allowing the Koran to be read in our Christian churches, I truly appreciated your firm and resolute stand for the deity of Jesus. He is our great God and Savior and I love Him very much. Blessings from Tennessee.
Just as a perhaps amusing point of reference, the 1982 hymnal of the Episcopal church in the USA has “Brightest and best of the STARS” (caps mine) “of the morning,” apparently so as to avoid offending any daughters who might be present, and the two tunes included are “Morning Star” by James Proctor Harding (1850-1911) and “Star in the East” from The Southern Harmony (1835). The Harding tune was also in the 1940 Hymnal, wherein the word “sons” was still used.
I am not clear as to whether the hospitality at St Mary’s anticipates infinite extension of parallel lines between Islam and the Church in Glasgow. Are you planning some opportunities for Glasgow Muslims to understand the Christian faith and prepare for Baptism and the glorious liberty of regeneration by the Holy Spirit? (In whichever order; no axe about that!) As you move around the Glasgow community and meet more Christians of Islamic background, why not invite such to participate in groups for new Muslim enquirers? The testimony of an ex-Muslim can express vibrantly “How I know He lives” (as your SA brethren would sing). You might find not only new hearts from a divine work of grace among your Muslim neighbours but in other neighbours too. Amen. Inshallah!
There are a small number of people in St Mary’s who are converts from Islam to Christianity just as there are a small number of people in local mosques who are converts from Christianity to Islam.
St Mary’s regularly puts on events and courses for people discovering and exploring Christianity. Most living religions do the same thing.