• Sermon preached at Midnight Mass

    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.

     

20 responses to “Apologies have consequences too”

  1. Andrew Cain Avatar
    Andrew Cain

    You say so often and so eloquently what I feel.

    1. Father Ron Smith Avatar

      Food for serious thought, Father Kelvin. I don’t suppose there has been any objection raised by the Church of England Bishops about the liberalising ativity of our Norwegian partner’s in Christ. It is this continuing double-mindedness that exposes us Anglicans to the charge of structured hypocrisy. Keep up the good work you are doing on your web-site. Christ IS risen, Alleluia!

  2. Alan Wilson Avatar

    Thank you, Kelvin. It’s certainly a change of the mood music going on, but self-lacerating apologies are subject to the law of diminishing returns unless they indicate what we call “Metanoia” – change of mind, aka repentance. This means things real change. Without it, apologies breed cynicism, not hope. When, for example, a bishop tells us he is ashamed whenever he encounters homophobia in the church, curious minds want to ask him “when did you last encounter what you call homophobia in the church? What was it like? How was it separable from the ideology that validated it? And since it’s such a shameful thing, what are you going to do about it?”

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      The real disconnect for me is that Justin Welby is someone who clearly does know something about what reconcilliation is. He can’t have done that job in Coventry and not known and he can’t have named reconcilliation as one of the key strands of his time as Archbishop without knowing that metanoia is part of the deal if that is what you are chasing after.

      However, I can only come back again and again to the possibility that there are those who simply think that LGBT are indeed actually worth less than real people.

      1. June Butler Avatar
        June Butler

        Kelvin, after I read your words about the empty apologies by authorities in the church after which their behavior does not change, I could not help but think what you stated in your comment, that the leaders, with exceptions like Alan Wilson, believe LGTB folks are lesser. What else can we think? My advice would be to stop apologizing and be honest, which would be a step in the right direction, because at least the hypocrisy would end.

  3. adrian copping Avatar
    adrian copping

    Thank you for this. Something similar has been happening here in Wales in the past week or so where our Bishops have apologised AND issued some prayers which are authorised for use in connnection with ministry to LGBTI people. This is to be welcomed as a sign of a step in a positive direction but, at the same time, leaves a lot of questions and many disappointed.

  4. Bob Webster Avatar
    Bob Webster

    Saying it is a “constant source of deep sadness that people are persecuted for their sexuality” is not an apology. At best it is a request that someone should stop making him feel bad. That could be the people doing the persecuting, or it could be us who should just be quiet and preferably go away. An apology would be “I apologize for the hurt I have caused and as a consequence of recognizing my sin I will cease that behaviour and do everything I can to get others to stop as well.”

  5. Ruth Richards-Hill Avatar

    Kelvin, you are an expert at stating things so eloquently that makes everyone else in the Anglican communion squirm.

    I was not oblivious to the fact that as a lesbian woman I entered a family of churches with a huge diversity of attitudes towards my sexuality. It was only because of the grace and love of Jesus Christ that I felt safe to come into the church despite my “flaws” and receive baptism. Is my baptism any less valid because I am a lesbian?

    As a convert from Orthodox Judaism I suspect that I am sometimes more acutely aware than others at what should be in my mind a glaring hypocrisy. Rabbinical thought always looks for an alternatives to explain why a certain situation does or does not apply according to halachah (ecclesiastical law – much like the canons). But the balance either exists or it doesnt. Jesus speaks about divorce and makes it quite clear that its not really an option, while in rabbinical law, it certainly is an option. We are taught that he came to fulfil the law and yet we his church are part of a new covenant are we not? The church seems to have taken the easy way out and will marry people who have divorced, but will not marry gay couples. So if divorced people are part of the new covenant, why arent us gay folk?

    I could get into all the biblical quotation arguments and as someone that reads Classical Hebrew better than most Anglicans I know, I have no fear in taking a stand on my point. (My Greek needs a little more work however.) That said, I dont see a balanced biblical foundation for excluding some that are automatically excluded by literal translation of scripture, but not others, but rather an inherited bigotry and hypocrisy that continues to thrive simply to satisy the whims of member churches whose societies havent quite experienced the journey that ours has. While that doesnt invalidate their position, neither does it invalidate the position of our society and our spiritual progress should not be hindered to satisy the agenda of those religious leaders that appear to be pandering to the demands of those churches that have not walked the path of ours.

    I have arguments that cover more than simple translations and exegesis particularly surrounding what the rules were both before and after the death of Christ, but those are for another day. I know that I am a baptised Christian and Jesus loves me as much as any other, not because I am gay or straight, but because I am one of his, and therefore he wants me to thrive within his covenant rather than the stifling, unreasonable and hair splitting laws that came before – Ones that I personally know how incredibly impossible they are to live by, no matter what your sexuality, or colour, or intellectual ability. – I was there once.

    When our Bishops and leaders realise that Christ died exactly to make the Christian lives of the likes of me equally valid as straight people, then perhaps we’ll make a little more progress and not see these “apologies” as merely lip service. Its almost embarrassing to LGBT people for whom their faith is a core part of their lives. It certainly is for me.

  6. Ruth Harley Avatar

    Any child in my Sunday School group could tell you that repentance is not just “saying sorry” it is “saying sorry, being sorry, and changing”. Possibly ++Justin’s words make it as far as the first of these, but I’m not convinced they signify the second, and the third is nowhere in sight. Perhaps I should send my 5 year old theologians to Lambeth and/or Lusaka to explain! Or perhaps it’s just that those who are issuing these ‘apologies’ aren’t really thinking in terms of repentance, or seeing the need for it, at all.

  7. Mark Falby Avatar
    Mark Falby

    Apologies mean nothing if not backed by action.

  8. Junia Avatar
    Junia

    Well I did recently get brutally and spectacularly dumped by an American lesbian, so perhaps they just are naturally more wicked over there…

    In seriousness though, thank you for this wonderfully elegant post, Kelvin, summarising so much of what I have felt since ++Justin’s statement in January. I’m starting to get a little sick of being apologised to.

    1. Cynthia Avatar
      Cynthia

      Speaking as an American lesbian, I’m sure the Norwegian lesbians are much better people, and that we are “naturally more wicked…” 😉

      Kelvin expresses well the debacle of January. But interestingly, Justin just delivered an amazing sermon at ACC-16 that marks a major change of heart and theology if he’s sincere. We’ll see. A lot has happened since January.

      Have a look at the sermon, it’s in the Anglican Communion news. I’d hate to think that those are just empty words. Time will tell. But I want hope.

      1. Kelvin Avatar

        Could you point us towards the sermon, Cynthia. I’m not seeing anything at all that’s new in relation to the things I’ve written about above.

        1. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
          Cynthia Katsarelis

          Here it is: http://www.anglicannews.org/news/2016/04/new-calls-for-new-times-archbishop-welbys-presidential-address-to-acc-16.aspx

          To me this seems like a new direction, born of recent realities, and perhaps inspired by the Holy Spirit.

          Of course, my hopes could be typical, off-the-charts American optimism. We wicked American Episcopal lesbians just know that the Promised Land is at the end of the next rainbow.

          1. Kelvin Avatar

            Cynthia – this is what I was writing about above. It isn’t a new direction. It is what I’m complaining of. Talk of reconciliation whilst not engaging in it.

            There’s not a word in it about a new direction on the way the ABC relates to the Anglican Communion’s troubles. Not one.

          2. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
            Cynthia Katsarelis

            It seems like he was asking people to focus on the major characters, climate change and religious violence, and to work together within our diversity. That sounds like a new tack. Of course, it will be interesting to see if this translates into action. Will the discrimination against married clergy stop? Will the ABC stop pandering to the primates who didn’t show up to ACC-16?

            You might be right, you seem very prophetic to me. But I want you to be wrong this time. I want hope, and to work together on things that actually matter.

          3. Kelvin Avatar

            There are simply no signs of what you hope for, Cynthia. None.

          4. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
            Cynthia Katsarelis

            Perhaps not. But I was recently a TEC delegate to the UN Commission on the Status of Women where I met a posse of awesome women from the Anglican Communion Women delegation. We had great interaction and they affirmed a “walking together” statement they wrote in 2007. It says they are staying in communion, no matter what the guys do. We women in TEC are drafting a response, graciously receiving and affirming the statement. Against this, Justin doesn’t stand a chance and he might as well change his tune.

            PS. One of the awesome delegates was a Rachel from St. Andrew’s, Scotland.

  9. Richard Barnes Avatar
    Richard Barnes

    I was really hopeful about the Anglican Communion’s purpose from reading Rachael’s blogs from UN CSW last month. But not for long. ABC Welby’s Sermon reads like a random speech generator and says much the same as he’s been doing for months in global fora.
    It’s like a couple who talk about the garden and the difficult neighbours because they don’t want to talk about their sex life.
    Clever way to end ACC with everyone apparently united by talking about bigger issues.
    But to read ++Welby asking for nuanced theology, when he’s totally binary (Christian=happy, healthy, wealthy & wise) just made me laugh.

  10. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > In the last week we’ve had the latest document on family life to come from the Vatican and it is very clear that there’s a change in tone from the current pope and it is hard not to welcome that.

    I don’t see any change of tone in the following, which is the beginning of paragraph 251 of “Amoris Laetitia”.

    > 251. In discussing the dignity and mission of
    the family, the Synod Fathers observed that, “as
    for proposals to place unions between homosexual
    persons on the same level as marriage,
    there are absolutely no grounds for considering
    homosexual unions to be in any way similar or
    even remotely analogous to God’s plan for marriage
    and family”.

    I’d call that a monumental snub, deliberately administered, or an equally deliberately administered drenching with cold water.

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