• We are not stewards


    waves and rocks

    A long time ago, back in the mists of nearly twenty years ago, I started to think that it was important that there was a liturgical celebration of creation. I thought long and hard about it and decided that instead of celebrating that modern invention the Harvest Festival, we would celebrate Creation instead, rolling a sense of thanksgiving into that but praying too for the wellbeing of the created world.

    That is the way that it has been for quite a while now. We usually keep it on the first Sunday in October, around the time of the Feast of St Francis. We even sometimes throw in an animal blessing service that weekend, despite the fact that Francis himself wouldn’t allow members of his order to keep pets.

    As time has gone on, the climate crisis has become more obvious to more people and the churches have been looking for ways to think about creation. Thus the idea of Creationtide – a month long celebration of creation has started to be marked in different ways in different churches.

    Now, I’m a bit of a cynic when it comes to churches declaring new seasons. When the Church of England and those who follow its mysterious ways decided that Kingdom Season was a thing, I wasn’t impressed. Similarly, when in the Scottish Episcopal Church, the bishops started talking about a Season of Christian Living or a Season of Discipleship I was more inclined to be a disinterested observer than an active participant. The biggest problem, it always seemed to me, with new Seasons in the Calendar was that the worldwide church hadn’t made its mind up.

    And yes, I know that there are those who will think that it is odd that I thought we could move ahead with the marriages of same-sex couples or the ordination of priests who happen to be women without the enthusiastic agreement of the whole church but that we couldn’t have a new season without universal agreement but there we are. We all have our red lines.

    The surprising thing about the Season of Creation though it that it is attracting considerable interest across different denominations. Churches of the Orthodox tradition, Roman Catholicism and Anglicanism are all pondering what it means to keep a season or a feast meditating on creation. Significant elements of the world church do seem, this time, to be on their way to creating a new season or feast.

    I’d be happy with a feast rather than a season, but that’s not the principle point that I’m interested in right now.

    The thing that bothers me more than anything about this isn’t the intention to mark Creation in the calendar. It is how we mark it and what we say about it.

    In particular, it troubles me considerably that the language that we use to mark the feast might be contributing to damaging ways of thinking about the created order in the face of the climate crisis. Our words form our thoughts and I’m not convinced that declaring a Season of Creation without thinking hard about what words we will use is really going to help.

    I struggle most with the notion that it is a positive thing for human beings to be seen as Stewards of Creation. This idea inhabits many modern liturgies.

    We currently have the following as a prayer offered for experimental use during the Season of Creation.

    God give you grace to be faithful stewards of Creation,
    rejoicing that you are made in God’s image,
    and seeking justice for those who do not share in the earth’s bounty,
    and the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit
    be upon you, and remain with you always. Amen.

    This is by no means unusual. The idea that we should become better stewards of creation comes at us in hymns and in prayers and, I suspect, in sermons preached around this time.

    The trouble is, I think that human beings being stewards of creation is part of what has got us into the mess we are in globally.

    It posits a God who has gone away, leaving creation to be managed (stewarded) by human beings.

    Firstly I don’t think that God has gone away. And secondly, the trouble with a management model is that it imagines our role in creation to be primarily that of taming it, controlling it. It is as though we are here to turn creation into a park fit to live in.

    That very idea of human beings being created themselves in order to manage the rest of creation seems to me to be deeply problematic. It puts human beings at the centre of the created order when all that we can see around us tells us that this is not so. Who stewarded the dinosaurs? Who stewards Alpha Centauri?

    Placing ourselves at the centre of how we think about the world isn’t surprising. It may even, with a little side order of repentance be something that is forgivable. I think therefore I am very quickly turns into I think therefore I am right here at the centre of things and morphs into I think therefore I am in charge, all too easily.

    Here in the Scottish Episcopal Church we’ve also been experimenting with the idea of being “priests to creation”.

    …you formed humanity in your own image,
    and entrusted us with the priesthood of your Creation.

    It is a poetic image which comes from some serious theology but it is theology that predates the Climate Crisis.

    And anyway, I have more of a sense that creation is a priest to me, mediating my relationship with God than that I am a priest to creation, somehow standing between the created order and divine love.

    Creation is not ours to tame. The stewarding and priestly metaphors lead directly into a control mentality. And the outworkings of that are all too evident. At least one of the leaders of a political party in the UK came away from the Triumpian Banquet this week convinced that the best way forward was to extract all our oil and all our gas from the North Sea and use it. Note the possessive adjective used – our. In the face of the Climate Crisis, oil of ours might well take us closer to our destruction.

    Deep inside, I think that most Christians know that Creation is not ours to tame.

    There are currently many Christians coming on pilgrimage to Scotland. (When Jerusalem is closed, Iona is open). Many of them come via the church I serve either on their way to Iona or on their way back.

    There is a sense when you talk to them that they have an instinctive urge to get to a place where human beings have not tamed the created order. As though God will speak to them there. I have many problems with that as I think that God is as present in the city as in the country and in the New World just as much as the Old. However, that sense of the goodness of creation being found in the wilderness is instinctive in the minds of many of the pilgrims that I meet.

    Kierkegaard asked himself whether he should choose the monastery or the deer park – piety or pleasure. Our choice lies in whether we choose to see God in the crashing waves, the raging of the volcano and the struggle between the predator and their prey or whether we can only imagine God at work in some place where the wilderness has been tamed.

    We may have been created for a garden and we may end up destined for a garden of delights, but here, out of Eden, we neither live in parkland nor are called to tame, pillage or plunder the world around us.

    That notion of stewardship is trouble for it doesn’t allow us to think of ourselves as inherently creatures within creation. It always calls us to manage, interfere and control. It brings with it mentalities of harm.

    Jesus has harsh words to say about stewards. They are seldom, in his thought world intrinsically good.

    In Scotland, we use other vocabulary for stewards. Both in terms of managing highland estates or in terms of how we manage shared buildings in cities, the steward is called the factor. Factors are often disliked and often mistrusted. They are simply there to manage and steward property on behalf of others who are either absent or unable able to exercise the level of control that is needed to cope with property.

    Such an image is a terrible one for how we think about creation.

    Somehow we need language that stops us from thinking that human beings are in charge.

    Should we pray, “God give you the grace to be faithful factors of Creation?”

    Everyone who has ever had a factor will think we should not.

     

18 responses to “Six reasons why [some] cathedrals are doing well”

  1. John McIntosh Avatar
    John McIntosh

    A most interesting piece and your comments on music are apposite and timely. Thank you.

  2. Christine McIntosh Avatar

    I agree. With you, and with him!

  3. Bob Faser Avatar

    This is a brilliant post. While the direct context of this article is about Anglican cathedrals and parish churches in the UK, the implications are also relevant to congregations of other denominations and in other contexts.

  4. Rachel White Avatar
    Rachel White

    Inflation of church titles: rebranding a church as a minster may help to get away from the toxic c word, but does it necessarily indicate a movement towards missional work?
    What about when those currently leading a minster try to rebrand it as a cathedral (cf Southwell and Notts). Does this indicate a movement away from missional work and if so what are they aiming to move towards other than personal aggrandisement?
    Cathedrals sucking in resources and giving little back: Jesus said “Go OUT and make disciples … ” yet three if not more ordained clergy can be involved in any given cathedral service whilst their colleagues in parish ministry may well be trying to pastor at into the teens of church congregations on any one day. This does not seem to me to be a satisfactory or helpful use of scarce resources.
    Cathedrals may well be places of beauty in both visual and choral terms but Jesus himself set his focus on reaching out to the outcasts and those regarded as the unbeautiful. That is not to say that we should not aim to be the best possible but rather that we should be concerned with the bigger picture rather than concentrating a disproportionate level of resource to beautiful places.

    1. Bob Faser Avatar

      But however, Rachel, in my experience, those cathedrals, parish churches, and other congregations which are places of beauty and centres of excellence in worship are also contexts in which authentic outreach and ministry happens. Conversely, congregations in which “any old thing will do” in worship are also settings in which not much happens in outreach and ministry.

      1. Christine McIntosh Avatar

        In support of Bob’s comment, I’d like to add – at the risk of repeating myself ad nauseam – that I became involved in Christianity only because of the beauty and solemnity of worship in the tiniest cathedral in the country – a place which struggles to keep going financially and practically now, but in which, in my lifetime, every effort has been made to ensure that the music is fine, the worship sensitively and beautifully achieved and the building cherished. If I had to listen to the pathetic music and slapdash liturgy that is a feature of some parish worship, I’d have scarpered long ago.

    2. Nigel Coates Avatar
      Nigel Coates

      Rachel’ I think there is a misunderstanding here. Southwell minster made no choice to re brand itself as a Cathedral. It was made so in 1884 and has no authority to change that! In the last decade The diocese chose to be renamed as that of Southwell and Nottingham rather than Southwell and the minster remains the Cathedral church. We are entirely at ease with keeping a longstanding title of minster believing like you it underlies our calling to be outward looking and to serve our local communities as well as our wider diocese and some 80,000 visitors a year.

  5. Suzanne Bryden Avatar
    Suzanne Bryden

    Point number 4 resonates with me (as a lapsed church goer).

  6. Bruce Neswick Avatar
    Bruce Neswick

    There are many thought-provoking ideas here, but some careful editing would help the message. “There’s a lot that about … ?” Ouch.

  7. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    Kelvin, I wonder whether, during your visit to the West Coast, you were in California; and if so, whether you visited Grace Cathedral, San Francisco. As relatively new buildings go, I think it’s quite lovely in a very traditional manner, and the murals which portray the spread of the Gospel all the way to San Francisco are both unusual and informative. Here’s the bizarre twist: “Grace” is almost never identified, in any sort of news or interest story, as a cathedral of the Episcopal church; as a result, most non-Episcopalians are very surprised to learn of its denomination. This (to me) weird practice of deliberately omitting the E word was inaugurated by the Bishop previous to the present one, in hopes that people would come to feel that it’s everyone’s cathedral. I have no idea whether or not this has worked. I do know that my own feeling about “Grace,” based on nothing but gossip and ignorance, is that it’s a very snooty place where only the in-crowd goes to worship, and where all sorts of “innovative” (imagine sick-noises soundtrack) worship prevails on Sundays, although the Thursday evening sung Evensong–which I have often attended– is quite traditional. Being at present the entire alto section at a very small parish in the Haight-Ashbury, I haven’t got Sunday mornings free to go visiting at “Grace” or any other local church, but while I found your latest post fascinating, I can’t test the local reality against your findings. It’s made quite an impression, though, and I will probably re-read it a few times, especially the part about getting people involved, which resonates strongly with my immediate family.

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Perhaps you should go to Grace Cathedral before making comments like this about it online, Meg.

      You can hear the sermon I preached when I was living in residence there a couple of years ago online and make your own mind up as to how innovative it sounds.

      http://www.gracecathedral.org/cathedral-life/worship/listen/detail.php?fid=145

      If I’m honest, I was surprised how traditional Grace Cathedral was.

    2. Christine McIntosh Avatar

      I loved my one visit to Grace Cathedral 8 years ago – we were warmly welcomed on the Saturday when we walked up the hill to rubberneck, and enjoyed every aspect of the Eucharist on the Sunday. The ‘welcomer’ was amazed that I recognised the Samuel Seabury panel on the mural.

      1. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
        Meg Rosenfeld

        I’m glad you had such a good experience at Grace Cathedral! The murals have always fascinated me because, so the legend goes, the models were members of the parish staff and congregation. What fun it would be to have provided the face for an Anglo-Saxon queen, or a Spanish conquistador! I would guess that having someone come in and identify Samuel Seabury is a very rare treat.

        1. Christine McIntosh Avatar

          All the pisky churches in Scotland I’ve been involved with have that very picture somewhere about them. In ours, it hung on the wall just inside the door for many years. Can’t think if it’s still there …

          1. PamB Avatar
            PamB

            I had the same experience in Grace Cathedral some years ago. When the tour guide heard I was from the very congregation where Seabury was consecrated I got a round of applause from the group, and was treated like royalty. I did not manage a service, as I was just on a stopover, but the beauty of the place was breathtaking, and I expect the standard of liturgy and music was just as high.

  8. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    You’re absolutely right, of course. Some day I shall go to a regular Sunday Mass. I quite enjoyed your sermon, and as I’ve never had to cense the altar, can only say that that is the one thing which all new members of the altar party here at All Saints fear the most–and I can certainly see why! You certainly know how to use a good dramatic pause! Did the lid fall off, or did the wee sparks jump out through the little ventilation holes?

    Another interesting “take” on the rich young man is that, unlike some of the other rich people in the Bible, he seems to have been obsessed with his belongings and the concomitant responsibilities, and getting rid of them could have freed him.

    It’s very interesting that so many people from other Protestant denominations, especially the more evangelical, have been drawn to the Episcopal Church because of its liturgy, pageantry–as you aptly put it, its beauty. Thank God that they have, bringing with them their enthusiasm and energy, because there seems to been a great exodus of cradle Episcopalians. I always wonder where they went.

    1. PamB Avatar
      PamB

      Not sure about you use of the word “pageantry”, Meg. Suggests an element of triumphalism and showing off that is not, despite our joking about it, actually there. Ceremonial is rooted in symbolism, and the best stays close to that remit.

      1. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
        Meg Rosenfeld

        “Pageantry” doesn’t have that connotation to me; I’m a theatre person and to me, performance is sacred. There’s no fakery involved, at least in my mind. No intention of being offensive.

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