Religion is a funny thing. It is on the one hand about doing what comes naturally to people. And on the other hand it is about doing the very opposite.
Let me explain.
Some aspects of religion are about what comes naturally and easily to people – things like prayer and things like the way we celebrate joys and sorrows. Other aspects of religion are more hard work – they are about doing the unexpected thing ranging from the apparently trivial (wearing your hair like this rather than like that) to the extremely serious (“In the name of the Holy Spirit and of the Church of Christ we call you to serve in the order of presbyters. Do you accept this call?”).
The former are to do with the way we are wired as human beings. The latter consists of a whole range of things that can shape life profoundly and change it utterly.
I know it is a bit counter-intuitive to say that prayer is easy. In many respects, prayer belongs with the things that build up a spiritual life. But prayer comes very naturally when we are up against it in the world. When we are frightened for ourselves or even more likely frightened for others, many people find an impetus to pray, whether or not they believe in a God who meddles in the ways of this world.
It is the same when it comes to joys and sorrows. Often we do spiritual things not because that is part of a coherent spiritual life but simply because for some reason we have a need as human beings to mark significant moments in life. For some reason, human beings have evolved to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries in ways that other sentient beings have not. We buy champagne or flowers when we celebrate and we find ways of marking tragedy that are unexplained and untaught. The sea of flowers that appears when tragedy strikes tells us that people care a great deal about the well-being of others. They tell us that compassion is real. They tell us that people simply couldn’t help themselves from expressing the better part of what it means to be human.
Much religion is built from such sentiment.
The Christian calendar mostly arises from people’s need to remember significant things that people have done through the remembrance of anniversaries of one kind or another. It might be the anniversary of the death of someone special, the anniversary of a birth or even an anniversary marking the oh so human moment of actual conception. These festivals have the original character that shares something very much in common with our own desire to celebrate and mark significant moments.
But Advent is different somehow. It isn’t about the anniversary of something. For all it is a countdown to a birth, pretty much everyone who takes Advent seriously is in agreement that it isn’t really about celebrating that birth at all. We’ll get there, but only once we’ve prepared ourselves.
Advent is a bit of an effort.
We’re in the middle of Advent now. And I love it.
There was a time when Advent and Lent were regarded as much of a muchness – penitential seasons that came before a big festival.
In recent years, Advent has changed a bit I think – more about preparation now than penitence. However it is much under attack as the commercial Christmas has taken over the month of December.
Some churches have capitulated and now don’t keep Advent as anything other than proto-Christmas. Thus, plenty of churches are already festooned with decorations and carol services are going on this weekend, just two weeks since Advent began. It is hard to criticise people for this. May those who sing joyful things experience joy in their hearts. However, keeping Advent as an actual spiritual discipline has much in its favour too.
Here at St Mary’s, we keep as full and proper an Advent as we can. That means we don’t sing Christmas carols or put up decorations or anything like that until we’ve kept four Sunday Eucharists of Advent.
This year, with Christmas on a Monday, 24 December is Advent 4 (which takes precedence over Christmas Eve) and so we’ll not be keeping the big feast until later on that day. I’ve little doubt that we may have some people turning up on 24 December in the morning expecting lots of ho ho ho, but what they will get is a bit of Advent ho-ho-holiness instead.
Once that fourth advent Eucharist is done, we might go a bit Christmas crazy and I’m expecting that to be a lot of fun.
Keeping Advent like this is intentional, deliberate and yes, sometimes difficult. It puts us at odds with everyone around us including plenty of other Christians in other churches.
It is that side of religion that is about spiritual practise – holy habit forming. It is about trying to do something in life that affects the soul. The hope of the spiritual life is that it leads to deeper joys than a life not cultivating the soul. Keeping Advent these days and not caving into the tinsel is a metaphor for much in religion.
Would it matter much if we just gave in and sang While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night before the event? On the one hand, of course it wouldn’t. But on the other hand…? Does it matter if you keep a kosher kitchen? Does it matter if you pray five times a day? Does it matter if you turn up to join in receiving communion with others or would receiving it by post do just as well instead? Does it matter if you say morning and evening prayer every day? Does it matter if you practise honesty at work? Does it matter if that child is baptised or not? Does it matter if you fast on a Friday or if you don’t?
The root that people are trying to get to with any spiritual practice is a life filled with joy and overflowing with compassion for others. The habits of religion are a funny mixture. A very great many of them don’t matter that much at all in absolute terms. But it remains the case that religious people believe that adjusting life and doing deliberate things that are counter-cultural and which must seem just plain odd to many, can help someone find a life of greater happiness, empathy and care. That’s what spiritual practise is about, whether or not it is learned within or outwith the confines of any organised religion.
Keeping Advent in the determined, deliberate way that we keep it here is a signpost, a symbol, a marker that at our deepest level we need not dance to the tune that the rest of the world might be singing. Humming along to the Fairytale of New York as I may do in a shop on a Saturday, I know that I belong to a way of life that sometimes chooses to sing from quite another hymn sheet from that of the world around me.
Advent is hard work if you keep it these days.
Hard and holy work.
And I love it.
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.