Sermon preached on 12 July 2015 – (click here for video)
Are you dancing?
And is it the dance of life or the dance of death?
Is it dancing in the streets with the people or dancing in palaces to please the tyrant?
This week’s pairing of Old Testament and Gospel has always seemed to me to be particularly fortuitous. You get two dances and they shine light on one another. Two sets of royal palaces. Two dancing figures. One figure skipping about the streets in his linen ephod to the scandal of the decent and well to do and the other shimmying about Herod’s palace casting all decency aside to bring a good man to his death.
The dance of Life or the dance of Death. Which will it be?
Well, inevitably, I want to come back to the dance that seems to me to be more filled with life than with death and so I’ll return to David’s dance in a minute or two.
Let me first though meander back almost 20 years in my memory to a particular dance – a particular ceilidh that I have in mind this morning.
Just over twenty years ago, I found myself at a ceilidh. I was a young man in my first job in the church and I was working in University Chaplaincy – a ministry in the church that I’ve been involved with a few times.
Now, those who are University Chaplains get invited to a big conference every couple of years. It is ecumenical and diverse. You get people from all kinds of traditions but who happen to be in University Ministry turning up. And they are an eclectic and quite interesting bunch.
Anyway, there I was at the Higher Education Chaplains conference. And on the last night there was a ceilidh band playing for a ceilidh or a barn dance or whatever you want to call it.
Now at that time, as I suspect is the case even today in England, University Chaplains were quite often people who had not fitted in, or more likely had been nudged out of parish ministry for one reason or the other – usually the other.
And it was the case at that dance that a number of the gentlemen chaplains wanted to dance with other gentlemen chaplains and a number of the gentlewomen wanted to dance with other gentlewomen.
And gradually over the course of a few dances it because obvious that people were just dancing with whoever they wished to dance with and a good time was being had by all.
A good time, until someone noticed. A grand old time was being had by everyone present until the leader of the dance band who was calling the dances noticed what was happening right under his nose and stopped the band and gave us all a bit of a ticking off. Except that rather than telling us that what we were up to was in contradiction with the book of Leviticus, he took humbrage at us because we were offending against the principles of the English Folk Song and Dance Society.
“Men dance with women and women dance with men” he said in exasperation as the dancers began to argue back.
“If men want to dance with men, they shouldn’t be doing it at a social dance” the poor man cried. “It is allowed in ritual dance but not social dance – you should all go off an become Morris Dancers”.
I suspect he grew up to become a bishop.
And as the floor of couples erupted in indignation asserting that they either wanted to dance with whoever they wanted to dance with or arguing even more loudly and more indignantly that they didn’t mind the fact that some people wanted to dance with whoever they wanted to dance with, I realise now that I was having two epiphanies.
Firstly, I can see very clearly in that incident some of the origins of me seeing that the struggle for equality between people was the part of the justice jigsaw that I wanted to be able join in with to help put the world back together in a way that made more sense than the way we’ve received it does.
And secondly – the realisation that some hierarchies just need to be broken down. Sometimes the people on the dance floor need to tell the caller what they need to hear in order to have a good time. Things don’t always need to be the way they’ve always been.
Hierarchy gets things done. At its best it can allow us to help one another – making laws that protect and encouraging us to collect money to providing welfare and nourishment for those in need. (Taxes are a good and godly thing remember!)
At its worst and most brutal though, hierarchy doesn’t just make the trains run on time, it kills prophets like John the Baptiser and threatens all who sing the songs of justice and dance the jigs and reels of freedom and love that the Lord of the dance would have us dance in the great heavenly ceilidh to which every child on earth is invited.
Let us take ourselves back to David dancing in the streets. What’s going on?
There are two standard interpretations of what was going on and they are both about hierarchy and I have a particularly Scottish interpretation of one of them that depends on how you translate “Linen Ephod”.
The first is to say that what’s going on here is that King David has divested himself of the royal paraphernalia and gone into the street in a linen ephod which was the standard wear of a priest of the temple. He’s chosen to rejoice in a religious way rather than a royal way and that somehow this is indicative of a king putting aside his majesty and being one with the people. (A bit like the story of the Queen and Princess Margaret sneaking out of the gates of Buckingham Palace on VE Day and dancing in the crowd without anyone knowing who they were). This interpretation would work for me if it were not for religion’s capacity for taking hierarchy and worshipping hierarchy itself rather than taking hierarchy and using it to enable people to worship. (And when you work in a job like mine with a pantomime title you need to work particularly hard at knowing the difference).
So I rather favour the second interpretation of all this which is that David’s wife scolded him for dancing in the street because he was dancing practically naked.
Such is the way hierarchical societies work. (“It is OK for the common people to have fun your Majesty but such things are not for you – and look you ruffians and rapscallions, the King doesn’t dance in the street so why are you causing such a rumpus”).
This works particularly well when you realise that perhaps the best interpretation of linen ephod for a Scottish audience is “lightweight kilt”.
David was dancing for joy and didn’t care who saw what he looked like. He was dancing before the Lord and didn’t care that he was letting his dignity slip a bit. He was dancing with such joy that care itself dropped away.
And I love him for it.
I’ve always said I’d rather be a priest who risked getting into more bother with God for saying yes to people than saying no to people. My vision for this place is something of the same. And that sentiment makes me forgive all David’s vulgarity and love him for all his joy.
If we are ever accused of being slightly vulgar in daring to care about things that real people care about, slightly over the top in our exuberant worship, slightly too ready to take to the streets to bring in the kingdom of justice and joy then we will find ourselves accused of dancing in good company.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Lord of the Dance.
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.