What is in Kelvin's Head?

Easter Sermon

07/04/2018

A number of years ago, I was put in charge of the Information and Communications Board of the Scottish Episcopal Church.

This meant that I was in charge of trying to formulate the church’s internal news and helping to work out our message to the outside world.

I think it was fair to say that there were one or two people who thought this might be just a little risky.

In the end, I did what I could and for much of the time I set about commissioning things from other people and getting them published and with the help of many others worked very hard.

Unfortunately though I had a weakness. I could cope with being serious and good for 364 days of the year (well, more or less) but there was always April Fool’s Day.

There were a number of articles over those years which I wrote myself but which I probably shouldn’t have published in the name of the church.

Amongst them was the one in which I announced that a committee that had never existed had come up with a new corporate image for the church. I changed the slogan from “The Scottish Episcopal Church Welcomes You” to “The Scottish Episcopal Church Welcomes You on Sunday”. Silly though that was, it didn’t seem to bother most people. Rather more startling was that I published a new version of sign that hangs outside all of our churches and in the middle, instead of a bishop’s mitre, I put a kneeling Buddha with the stated hope that this would improve interfaith dialogue.

I think that it would be fair to say that this venture did not particularly improve anyone’s dialogue.

I still treasure one response that I had to this in which someone never mentioned the slogan or the picture but remonstrated with me at great length for choosing colours that were not good for those who are colour blind.

Similarly the next year when I published an article advertising in the name of the College of Bishops that henceforth we would be using a new algorithm for calculating Easter and that Easter would align with Easter in the Church of England only every other year and on the alternate years we would keep an entirely different date in company with the American Episcopal Church.

Again, I got some correspondence about this. The only advice that I have for anyone wanting to go into church communications is never to publish something thunderously stupid in the name of the College of Bishops. The danger is, people believe every word.

All this seems a little redundant in these days of Fake News. Every day is All Fools Day and everyone has trouble working out what is true and what is false.

Carefully constructed April Fool’s day absurdities seem rather inadequate in the face of international politics in which the most outrageous candidate anyone could imagine became the leader of the free world and suggests arming teachers as a way of keeping gun crime out of schools; and domestic politics which seems to be carried out as though food banks are a normal part of the welfare system and not a daily crisis of people crying out for bread.

These things are not jokes. But they make fools out of us all.

As it happens, it is surprisingly rare for Easter Day and April Fool’s Day to fall on the same day. It is sixty years since it last happened and it won’t happen again for another 21.

But must not that first Easter Day have seemed like a day of utter foolishness?

The first witnesses to the resurrection were women, whose testimony was not taken seriously. Not simply because they were women, I suspect so much as because of how everyone had seen him die.

Here in St Mary’s we go through the story of the crucifixion four times. Firstly in the readings on Palm Sunday and then three times on Good Friday.

People are shocked when I say it but the honest truth is that by the time I get to the end of the fourth time through, I really want him to stay dead.

After all, Jesus is far easier to deal with if we think he is safely buried away not making any more demands on us.

But the news of Easter Day is that what seemed like the greatest foolishness is the greatest wisdom. What seemed like the greatest defeat is in fact the greatest victory. What seemed like the ravings of mad fools is in fact the great truth that will help us to defeat the foolishness of homelessness, war, violence and social exclusions of every kind.

For no matter what you do to people, hope springs up.

No matter how bad things are, the news that love conquers death is still true.

No matter what you say to people, someone will always sing Alleluia. And alleluia will always win in the end.

Over the course of Lent, the cathedral clergy have been giving Lent addresses on a Sunday evening in which each person has been asked to address the question – why am I a Christian?

Let me tell you why I am a Christian.

I am a Christian because of Easter Day.

I am a Christian because we are an Easter people and our song is alleluia.

I am a Christian because the utter foolishness of the first news of Easter turns out to be the truth.

The women were the first to spread the news and it was greeted as foolishness but that is now the faith to which I cling. For I can make no better sense of the world.

The first person to wish me a happy Easter this year was a Muslim writing on behalf of his community not just to me but to all of us gathered here to wish us a happy and joyful day.

And in a land riven with Islamophobia, that makes my heart sing.

Easter is about those moments when your heart sings. When you know for sure that love will make a fool of prejudice, will make a fool of sorrow and will make a fool of death.

Jesus Christ is risen.

For if Christ were not risen from the grave we would not be gathered here in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

AMEN

7 responses to “Reclaiming the web”

Paul Hutchinson

14/10/2015

Thank you for making me think in a different direction just before pausing for lunch. I have never had a blog, so came quite late to Internet social discourse, and have engaged more since joining one major network in 2010 and another in early 2014 – normally using those networks rather than a comment box such as this. Not all of us are natural creators of substantial original content, but like to be thoughtful in brief exchange, and so both those major networks, though cursed with many difficulties, serve those brief exchanges quite well. I do agree that the endless recycling of links (on both of them) can be wearying, and I do wish that some old friends would be a little more self-critical. But the price of any kind of social discourse is that one is vulnerable to the otherness of the other.
I feel I ought to be writing a more substantial comment here, but hope that this is enough. The time is not always there to offer deeper reflection: but sometimes a blogger needs to hear at least a small splash from the stone thrown down the well!

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  14/10/2015
  
  Thanks for the comment, Paul. I’m aware that not everyone is a content creator, but perhaps what I miss is the sense of discovering different communities online and keeping the comments more or less in one place helps with that.
  
  The glory days of 50 or more comments on a post are probably over. I suspect I mourn the sense of community being created even more than I miss the interesting reflections of others. Retweets and shares are always welcome – but they are the means of amplification. Becoming loud isn’t the same as becoming wise, nor the same as becoming connected.
  
  Reply
Seph

14/10/2015

It’s a damnable shame—and mostly the fault of Facebook. Twitter at least has an etiquette of sorts, wherein it is considered impolite not to respond to the original tweet, which is usually made by the blogger in question.

Facebook, in short, is the scourge of the Internet. I have often been in groups which have decided to do all of their organizing on Facebook, despite my protests that I’m not on Facebook and don’t want to be, and really an e-mail list would be just as easy, and would they like me to set one up. This inevitably leads to my marginalization within the group, as no-one bothers to keep me abreast of the discussions to which I am not party.

Can you tell I’m upset about this?

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Daniel Lamont

14/10/2015

I am only an occasional user of Facebook but I know what you mean, Kelvin. And indeed, I never read the comments ‘below the line’ on newspapers like ‘The Guardian’. You offer some useful advice. I read yours and one or two other blogs on a regular basis but don’t always comment. However, I can see that the author of a blog would like some feedback. I would be sad not to have the blogs that I do read because they do give me a sense of what people are thinking and an odd sense of community.

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Father Ron Smith

14/10/2015

My own contribution to the blogopshere is, I’m afraid, Father Kelvin, limited to comments I make on other people’s blogs (such as ‘Thinking Anglicans’ and ‘Anglican Down Under’ – a local NZ forum; plus my own blog ‘kiwianglo’, where i pluck articles that interest me personally from the web and provide my own commentary. This still interests me, personally, and provides my few readers with information they might not otherwise be bothered to glean for themselves. Like you, I am no longer an avid Facebook fan.

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David Campbell

16/10/2015

Hi Kelvin – thoughtful as ever – and yours is invariably the first blog I turn to each day. That you bring pressing issues to a wider audience and to people who know, or used to know, the church you serve is a great thing. I’m still blogging relatively strongly, but it’s certainly a different blogging experience when work is set in a very different context and especially community from previously, writing these days mainly for myself about things that interest me, although not quite at the address you have in your Blog Roll. http://www.limpingtowardsthesunrise.com is where it’s “all” happening.

Reply
1. Kelvin
  
  16/10/2015
  
  Thanks David – nice to hear from you. I’ve amended the link.
  
  I don’t think many people use blogrolls to find blogs these days but whenever I remove it my mother complains…
  
  Reply