What is in Kelvin's Head?

Don’t worry – it just religion. It won’t bother you.

22/09/2015

Preached on 20 September 2015

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Don’t worry, its just a religious thing. It won’t bother you.”

I’d just arrived in the village. And she said, ““Don’t worry, its just a religious thing. It won’t bother you.””

You see, I’d hired a car so that I could go a bit off the beaten track.

I must confess that I hadn’t realised quite how beaten the beaten track might be before I hired the car and had I done so I might have thought twice.

It is unusual for me to hire a car on holiday. Not something that I’d ever done before. I’d been seduced by the theory that in Malta they drive on the same side of the road as we do and that I’d know what I was doing on the road.

Several people told me when I was actually there and struggling to make sense of the roads that the Maltese don’t actually drive on the right or the left – they drive, quite sensibly, in the shade.

But anyway, I put the car into one of its forward gears (I never could work out one from another) and drove off that beaten track and up the road into the village.

And I was surprised to find that when I got there, something was clearly going on.

There were embroidered banners all along the street. And flags flying from all the buildings.

When I got to the B and B that I’d booked online I asked what was going on.

“Don’t worry,” the proprietor said. “Don’t worry, its just a religious thing. It won’t bother you.”

Anyway. I settled into my room. And at about 6 pm I heard the bells of the village begin to ring.

I was tired. I was hot. I just fancied sitting relaxing by the pool.

But the bells kept ringing.

I decided to have a wander up to the village square to see what was going on.

Pushing open the church door, I found a surprisingly big and beautifully kept church and a few older folk at the front saying some kind of litany.

I decided to stay for a bit and say some prayers quietly at the back.

Half an hour later, we had implored the intercession of very many saints whom I’d never heard of and I decided it was time to go and find some chips.

But there was once again the sound of the bells ringing and the lights seemed to come on and people were still arriving. Something seemed to be up so I sat down again.

What was up was Solemn Vespers. A procession soon arrived of 20 youngsters whom I took to be the choir, a few clergy and a couple of bishops at the back.

We then proceeded to have solemn vespers – nicely sung with lots of lovely incense. (By this stage, I was starting to realise I’d got lucky).

An hour later, solemn vespers was over and I thought that it was about time I went out and got some chips.

But people had kept arriving and yes, the bells rang again. And the central candle on the altar was lit which can only mean solemn pontifical high mass. And soon there was a procession of the boys, the clergy and now half a dozen bishops and yes, in this village in what I’d taken to be the middle of no-where, a cardinal.

And we then had an hour of glorious liturgy. With more incense and now a good choir and yes, an actual orchestra.

“Don’t worry,” she’d said. “Don’t worry, its just a religious thing. It won’t bother you.”

Anyway, the only thing bothering me at the end of all this (by now the church was packed) was my lack of chips and so I got up and went out into the square where I found a few hundred people standing on the steps of the church – members of the congregation who had not been able to get into the church. And by now all the bells in the towers of the church were ringing out into the night. (How great to be able to witness to the actual calling of bells on this Sunday when we celebrate the ringers of this cathedral).

And right in the middle of them, a life sized statue of our Lady – or as I was learning to call her, our Bambina. And at that moment the first of the marching bands arrived in the village square which was suddenly ablaze with coloured lights. And it soon became apparent that the Bambina herself was going walkabout round the village. Going walkabout for a couple of noisy joyous hours accompanied by ave Marias, marching bands, fireworks, sparklers and yes, glitter canons showering our Lady and the streets she went through with gold.

And so I learned that I’d just arrived in the village dedicated to the birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary just before the day celebrated as the birthday of Herself.

And I can tell you that there’s nothing more lovely in the cool of the day than incense and chips.

And it was wonderful. But what about that notion that it was just a religious thing and wouldn’t bother me.

It seems to me that religion is in very great danger of becoming something that wouldn’t bother anyone.

But when it does, it isn’t really religion.

Because our aspiration is not simply to change people’s hearts in the privacy of their own prayers. The aspiration of the Christian faith has always been to transform society. Not only to bring about justice but to shower the streets with the gold dust of celebration.

It lies with religious people – people like us to keep the dream alive that the next celebration is just around the corner – that joy is real and is on offer to everyone in the village.

It lies with Christian people to live a faith that will bother the world with its claims of redemption, justice, freedom and fun to build a world entirely transformed from the way things already are.

It lies with us to live the gospel we’ve heard today. “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes not me but the one who sent me”.

Doors Open seems to be an idea today that’s full of more meaning for us than simply opening the doors of this cathedral to those who want to look around.

Doors Open makes me want to work out how to think and pray and act about the refugee crisis. Doors Open makes me think of the gospel about welcoming the little child in the context of the children being carried to safety by parents on the run from wars we have contributed to. And Doors Open is also that mental image of the doors of thinking and ideas that we need to keep open in order to build the better tomorrow that our Lady seemed to be singing as I accompanied her through the village.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.
And has filled the hungry with good things.

Let us take her song upon our own lips and live it in our own lives.

And, yes, let us bother the world. Let us bother the world into joy.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. And of our Bambina.

Amen.

41 responses to “The Columba Declaration”

Edward Andrews

11/02/2016

As Anglicans get down to the important issue of the niceties of Theology, lets get into the broad brush situation.
The relationships between the Churches of the Celtic tradition and the Southern tradition have been fraught since the 7th Century (Whitby). Part of the whole question surrounding the war of Independence (and before with King David was teh independence of the Scottish Church.
The irony is that the present attempt is to bring the Churches of the united Kingdom together may well blow back on them. While the Kirk today doesn’t mean much in Scotland the most secular part of the UK I’m not convinsed that playing footise over Bishops is going to impress the older members – the ones who voted No.
The fact is that the Scottish Episcopal Church has the Anglican franchise in Scotland. It is an authentic Scottish Church (especially if you ignore the instances when it has gone to England for Episcopal ordination.) and to negotiate over its head about something so sensitive it at the best discourteous.
Those of the reformed tradition don’t get wound up by the antics of a few Episcopalians. We seek whatever degree of true unity is available to us, but do not see the need for uniformity. I spent some very pleasant years as a guest of the Scottish Episcopal Church when the climate of the Kirk became unattractive to me, and am grateful for the table fellowship which I received.
The site of two big boys presuming to set things up is not pleasing. For the information of those who want to get up tight about the real presence, that is what the reformed tradition believes, we are Calvinists not followers of Zwingli. I am not going to seek to discuss which Greer philosopher we get our understanding of existence from.

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Father David

12/02/2016

Father Ron: let us not forget that the great Arthur Michael Ramsey was born an ecumenical baby. His maternal Grandfather was Vicar of Horbling in Lincolnshire and his paternal Grandfather was a Congregationalist Minister. His Anglican Grandfather baptised him and when in adult years he visited Horbling parish church he was deeply moved when standing by the font – the place where this great man of God began his Christian pilgrim journey. However, as a child he worshipped with his family at the Congregationalist church in Cambridge. To the great benefit of the Church of England and the Anglican Communion – the kind of High Jinks that took place next door at Little St. Mary’s proved to be an attractive magnet and so the pull of Anglo-Catholicism brought to us a spiritual giant and a contender (in company with William Temple) for the title of the greatest Archbishop of Canterbury of the 20th century and a man who yearned and longed for Christian Unity.
Edward Andrews: Even as we all long and hope for the unity of all Christians your words are wise when you point to unity not uniformity.

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Keith Barber

12/02/2016

Cynic I may be, but my first response is to ask what is the hidden agenda. For I’m pretty certain there will be one, whether it’s about trying to create an ecclesiastical bulwark against disintegration of the UK or get ++Welby an ally or two in the aftermath of the huge and hostile reaction to the Anglican Primates’ decision to punish TEC (sorry Kelvin) for its moves towards inclusion of LGBT people.

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1. Jeremy Bates
  
  13/02/2016
  
  Or perhaps it’s like the Easter-calendar announcement–a convenient way of changing the subject, at Synod and elsewhere.
  
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Father Ron Smith

12/02/2016

Whatever the motivation for this ‘secret’ accord with the Church of Scotland; simple courtesy would require that the Church of England promoters consult with their Episcopally governed equivalent in Scotia.

Another point is this; do the Presbyerians realise that they may have signed up to the catholic premise of recognition of the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Holy Communion? Are they happy with that?

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1. Edward Andrews
  
  12/02/2016
  
  Well actually the Presbyterians believe “Worthy receivers, outwardly partaking of the visible elements, in this sacrament, do then also, inwardly by faith, really and indeed, yet not carnally and corporally but spiritually, receive and feed upon, Christ crucified, and all benefits of His death: the body and blood of Christ being then, not corporally or carnally, in, with, or under the bread and wine; yet, as really, but spiritually, present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses.” You will see the word real is there. Don’t know what the 39 articles say you believe.
  Those of us who are big on the real presence use the Platonic rather than the Aristotelian understanding of reality.
  
  Reply
  1. Father Ron Smith
    
    12/02/2016
    
    Not believers, then, in con-substantiation? Freely translated as bread and wine ‘together with’ the Body and Blood of Christ? Note, not the more literal trans-substantiation, which would nean the disappearance of the bread and wine. (although as some of my more scientific friends would say, this is a tautology.
    
    What all must agree on, though, is that some members of the Church of England, and many of its constituent partner Churches of the Anglican Communion, do have a problem with the ‘Real Presence’ – a reality that, for me, and I suspect most Anglican Catholics, means that the substance of the bread and wine consecrated at the Eucharist is truly “The Body and Blood of Christ” in accordance with the dominical instruction: “This IS my Body, my Blood” (Not, you will notice, “this REPRESENTS my Body, my Blood”). ‘A Sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace’ – this saying sums it all up pretty well, I think
    
    Reply
    1. Kelvin
      
      12/02/2016
      
      I think it is time to draw the discussion about the real presence to a close on this comment thread. It is hardly the main point and I’ve never ever known a comment thread about transubstantiation to be constructive.
      
      Comments on the Columba Declaration welcome. Comments trying to explain what transubstantiation *really* means – not so much.
      
      Reply
      1. Edward Andrews
        
        12/02/2016
        
        Thank you Kelvin. As I see it the C of E has come poaching in your preserves. This is wrong and unhelpful. If there were going to be Anglican/Presbyterian dialogue the SEC should be the lead player. I have my own problems with the declaration as a Member of the Church of Scotland who seeks an end to the United Kingdom. However as a Catholic Christian I am in solidarity with my SEC brothers and sisters who have been left out of the loop. Both the Cof E synod and the Kirk’ General Assembly should reject the document, but I don’t suppose that they will.
Augur Pearce

16/02/2016

A contribution to the ‘establishment’ discussion: In my book the terms ‘establish’ and ‘Church of England’ both have more than one meaning. ‘Establish’, for example, can mean ‘set up, bring into existence’ (sense E1), or it can mean ‘endow, privilege’ (sense E2).

Most people who use it of the C of E use it in sense E2, and they understand the C of E (in what I might call sense C3) as an association with its own rules, distinct from the English nation but privileged by law in various ways (with some concomitant obligations).

In fact I think this describes the C of S position fairly well, but is quite wrong as regards the C of E. The C of E (I contend) is not distinct from the kingdom of England, it is that kingdom ‘wearing its spiritual hat’ (sense C1). England, as church, has various spiritual responsibilities to discharge, and in order to do so, it establishes (=creates; sense E1), by its law, a complex of specialist institutions, offices, rules, and assets which itself becomes known derivatively as the C of E (sense C2).

One clear example of how the C of E (in sense C1) and the C of S have been differently understood from very early times is found in comparing Richard Hooker’s well-known words ‘There is not any man of the Church of England, but the same man is also a member of the commonwealth, nor any man a member of the commonwealth which is not also of the Church of England…’ with the Church Act 1567, declaring those ‘quha outher gainsayis the word of the Evangell ressavit and apprevit as the heidis of the Confessioun of Faith professit in Parliament of befoir in the yeir of God 1560 … or that refusis the participatioun of the haly sacramentis as thay ar now ministrat, to be na memberis of the said Kirk within this realme now presently professit’.

The Church of England, in short, is simply England; the Church of Scotland is a privileged sectional group.

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1. Seph
  
  17/02/2016
  
  If this be so, it strikes me as uncomfortably caesaropapist. This may be one of the things that makes me uncomfortable when I am down south and find myself in a C of E church.
  
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