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.

56 responses to “Six things I have learned about anti-semitism and the church”

Jacqui Norman

30/04/2016

Dear Kevin,
I am sure that some Jews would be offended, and this is very sad on every level. Just as it would be sad for Christians to object to non Christians celebrating Christmas or Resurrection Day.
In your piece you said yourself, that some Jewish people invite Christian people to join them for the meals. This demonstrates that the offence to Gentiles celebrating with their Jewish brothers and sisters is not universal in the faith.
Blessings.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  30/04/2016
  
  No Jacqui. It is considered a blessing in Judaism to include others in the ritual of passover. This does not justify Christians copying it without Jews being present, appropriating the ceremony to make it something entirely Christian and in doing so causing offence. It is not the same in any way as Christians objecting or not to non-Christians celebrating Christmas.
  
  If you wish to follow the line of saying that Christian Passovers are not offensive to all Jewish people, then can I ask what proportion of Jewish people you think it is legitimate for Christians to be offensive to? How many is OK?
  
  Reply
  1. Jacqui Norman
    
    30/04/2016
    
    Of course one would not wish to offend anybody.
    I feel we must graciously agree to disagree, I see no difference to the Christmas/Resurrection Day comparison… We disagree on this one point from your piece.
    God bless you.
    
    Reply
    1. Kelvin
      
      30/04/2016
      
      > We disagree on this one point from your piece.
      
      So what you’re saying is that anti-semitic things that other people do are wrong but things that you do can’t be anti-semitic because you do them with good intent in your heart?
      
      Isn’t that what the problem is?
      
      Reply
      1. Jacqui Norman
        
        30/04/2016
        
        WOW what a leap!
        No, of course it is not what I am saying… It is the opposite!
        Your opinion is that Christians should not engage with the Old Testament. Mine is that it is divisive NOT to. As you said Jesus is Jewish, we are his body …
        I have never had a conversation with a Jew who has expressed your opinion about this matter.
        I asked you politely about this aspect of your opinion, and you have made a personal attack at me(whom you do not know) and called me an anti Semite when nothing could be further from the truth. Now, that kind of thing IS where the problem lies.
        Blessings to you.
      2. Kelvin
        
        30/04/2016
        
        Don’t be ridiculous, Jacqui. My opinion is not that Christians should not engage with the Old Testament.
        
        If you can’t post things truthfully then I’ll not allow further comment.
  2. Martin Reynolds
    
    30/04/2016
    
    I would ask the opposite question.
    How many need to be offended?
    Just one?
    
    This argument seems to be in the mode of
    “Christians shouldn’t practice yoga.” school of thought.
    
    Reply
    1. Kelvin
      
      30/04/2016
      
      There’s a difference isn’t there? Most people wanting to stop Christians practicing yoga think that they should take that view because it will harm Christian souls rather because it will harm Hindu feelings.
      
      Reply
      1. Martin Reynolds
        
        30/04/2016
        
        It depends which Hindu you talk to.
      2. Kelvin
        
        30/04/2016
        
        Can you point me to an argument coming from someone in the Hindu community who believes that Christians and non-Hindus should refrain from practising yoga? I’m genuinely interested.
    2. Martin Reynolds
      
      30/04/2016
      
      I will try and point you in the right direction.
      
      Reply
Alexander Hamilton

30/04/2016

Wel now that was a jolly good read. Thank you to all contributers, some thought provoking matters raised, with of course no conclusion, and properly so. So much is a matter of personal belief and practise, no matter how bedecked and caparisoned the chuch one attends. I find myself sayng, ‘What would Jesus say?’ when watching the next best thing to pantomime at some services.

Reply
1. Jacqui Norman
  
  30/04/2016
  
  Amen
  
  Reply
Jacqui Norman

30/04/2016

Ps, In my opinion, the fact that “Passover is not important to most Christians ” is due to a lack of good teaching on the subject. It is not possible to fully appreciate the work of Jesus, (who in you picture, notably does not have the “Jewish nose” – very much enforcing your point that people do not appreciate that Jesus was (is!) a Jew, and with which I wholeheartedly agree with you) without first understanding the Old Testament story in its fullness.

I would also like to emphasise that this is the only one of your points with which I disagree 🙂

Reply
Jacqui Norman

30/04/2016

From the homepage:

Disclaimer
The views published here are my own and do not necessarily represent the views of St Mary’s Catheral nor the Scottish Episcopal Church.

Nor do they represent what I’ll think forever.

I change my mind sometimes – especially when persuaded of something by someone in debate.

Try me and see.

Maybe that should read “Try me and get called ridiculous ”

Very sad.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  30/04/2016
  
  Jacqui – this is my blog space. You don’t get to post untruthful things about me on it.
  
  Whether you like that or not doesn’t really matter to me it is the way it is.
  
  No further comments from you.
  
  Reply
Dion Smythe

30/04/2016

Christian “seders” are comparable to Jewish [re]appropriation of the Eurcharistic texts and reciting them [with some notable omissions] at Kiddush after the Sabbath morning service….

Reply
1. Meg Rosenfeld
  
  30/04/2016
  
  As a Christian who once visited a conservative synagogue where they did this, I was surprised and pleased to find this activity that was so much like ours, taking place. It seemed home-like. My daughter, then a teen-ager, had the same reaction. We were both thinking “Now I see where this part of our ritual comes from.” After all, Jesus (a Jew) was probably following very familiar tradition when he, as we say, instituted the Eucharist; he just said some new and startling things.
  
  Reply
  1. Dion Smythe
    
    02/05/2016
    
    Meg, I think you’ll find that what you witnesses at a conservative Jewish synagogue was the standard Kiddush after the Sabbath morning service — blessings over wine and bread and then the sharing of the same. What I was suggesting was that these Christian “Seders” would be comparable to Jewish congregations celebrating Christian Eucharists but with the important words left out [or indeed maybe even not] rather than the comparison between Christian “Seders” and Jews [or other non Christians] celebrating or marking the celebrations of Christmas or Easter, but not going so far as to have a parody of the Christian Eucharist.
    
    Reply
    1. Meg Rosenfeld
      
      02/05/2016
      
      Hmm. since I’ve never seen the sort of thing you’re describing, I can’t really make an intelligent comment. It’s difficult to think of a literal parody of a Christian ritual (except maybe in the case of a group of kids “playing church”) other than the secular Santa-centered goings-on which seem to be increasingly taking over the holy day commonly known as Christmas . . .
      
      Reply
Meg Rosenfeld

30/04/2016

Back to St. John, sometimes I can’t help wondering what Jesus would say if he heard some of John’s more convoluted pronouncements. What’s the Aramaic for “Huh?”

Reply
James Byron

30/04/2016

Regarding offensiveness: surely Christianity’s central claim, that Jesus of Nazareth was God in human form, is deeply offensive to Judaism.

Further, offense isn’t a knockdown argument. It just means that someone strongly objects to something. Many evangelicals find gay relationships offensive; many Calvinists find Arminianism offensive, and so on. Such feelings say nothing for the merits of the view.

The key question isn’t whether X is offensive, but whether the objections are reasonable and compelling enough to justify ending it.

Reply
1. Dennis
  
  02/05/2016
  
  Once again, we have a problem with most of western society having forgotten the difference between disagreeing with and being offended by. Offensiveness is most certainly not just when someone strongly objects to something. Calvinists don’t or shouldn’t find Armenianism offensive, though they disagree with it. It is merely a competing theory that divides evangelicals. But a play or novel that presented John Calvin as pimp who ran a brothel on the side and committed sex crimes with little boys would be offensive because it would be a false characterization meant to belittle and demean. So-called Christian seders are more like the sex-crime pimp John Calvin example than the disgreement with non-predestinationist types example – and would therefore be offensive.
  
  Reply
Bernard Randall

03/05/2016

At the risk of re-opening a can of worms, it seems to me a mistake to suggest that passover is not important to Christians. The death of the firstborn Son, the crossing of the people through the waters etc – the whole Exodus narrative – are deeply part of Christian theology. It’s an inescapable background to much in the New Testament (Sermon on the Mount as reflecting Moses on Sinai, or Jesus (in John’s Gospel) being crucified at the same time as the Passover lambs are sacrificed, anyone?).
So to take just a few liturgical examples, in “Common Worship” material for Easter season, the introduction to confessional starts “Christ our Passover lamb has been sacrificed for us …”; the Eucharistic prefaces say “he is the true paschal lamb” or “in the joy of this Passover”; and the invitation to Communion is “Alleluia. Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast. Alleluia.”
Fine, that’s Church of England, not everyone will be saying those particular words, but the theology is front and centre.
To this extent the passover story belongs just as much to Christianity as to Rabbinic Judaism. But the passover story in the Bible is not the same as the Passover religious observance/festival of modern Judaism.
Indeed I thoroughly object to Christians celebrating a Seder meal, because it isn’t what Jesus did – both because the Seder as we have it is a later development, and because the Last Supper quite likely wasn’t a Passover meal. A “Christian Seder” doesn’t connect us to anything historically, while we have the Eucharist (and Maundy foot washing) to connect theologically to what Jesus did at the Last Supper.
I don’t think that being offensive alone is a reason not do something with another more positive purpose, but in the case of a “Christian Seder” the offense is caused to no good purpose and so the case against is fatal. It ought not to be done.

Reply