• Teaching sermon on Confession and Absolution

    During Lent, I’m preaching giving simple teaching addresses focussing on different things that we do during the Eucharist.

    In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

    I don’t know whether you’ve given something up for Lent.

    These days I often tend to think of taking something up for Lent rather than giving up a bad habit.

    I remember in one of the churches that I used to work there was a wonderful woman who came to the midweek service. She came from a very churchy family – the sister of a priest, was married to a priest and was a powerful church woman herself.

    And she used to come along to worship at the midweek service that I usually took. We met in that church on Wednesdays and so the midweek service always carried on with the same congregation plus a few more on Ash Wednesday.

    And the thing I remember about her today is an Ash Wednesday when there was a lot of chatter over the post service coffee about what they were all giving up for Lent – it certainly wasn’t biscuits.

    And someone said, “What are you giving up for Lent Margaret”.

    And she looked them straight in the eye and said, “I’m giving up what I usually give up”.

    “What’s that they all chorused”.

    And she waited just long enough to get the attention of the entire room and said, “Bad thoughts”

    I thought it was the perfect answer. If only it was easier to do.

    But easy isn’t what Lent is necessarily about.

    The hardest Lenten discipline that I ever undertook was the first one I undertook when I joined the Episcopal Church.

    I grew up in the Salvation Army where we didn’t have Lent though we did dedicate February to something similar called Self Denial.

    We also didn’t have any alcohol or intoxicants.

    Which is how I managed to make it to being a postgrad student in my mid twenties who had never had a drop to drink.

    I recognise that it is more normal to give up alcohol for Lent.

    However, I did join the Scottish Episcopal Church in my second year as a theology student and may well have been the first student in Christendom ever to give up being teetotal for Lent.

    I’m not sure that I have much wisdom to offer from that time other than that whisky and cider don’t mix nicely.

    And to be honest, although I’ll occasionally have a drink now, it is a very rare one.

    But all of this is a long-winded way of getting me to what I’ve given up for Lent this year.

    Well, I’ve given up preaching on the bible readings for Lent this year.

    And am going to preach a series of teaching sermons for Lent this year and instead of focusing on the bible readings, I’m going to let them speak for themselves.

    I’m going to preach us through the Eucharist for the next few weeks.

    Stopping at a different key point in the order of service each week to give us pause to think about what’s going on.

    This week I’ve stopped us at the Confession and Absolution. Just to rest a moment and think about what we’re doing when we say these words.

    It is important because I think that if we become Eucharistic people and put ourselves in the way of the liturgy, it will resonate around inside us and reappear in our consciousness when we need it, not just when we’re in church.

    The words that we say each week make and remake us. They shape us. They take their part in building us into being the people that God wants us to become.

    God is love and we are his children. There is no room for fear in love. We love because he loved us first.

    May those words come back to you when you need them.

    There is no room for fear in love.

    Countless times in scripture we  encounter people being afraid. From the shepherds on the hillside at Christmas to the disciples startled by the risen Christ, the message from on high is “Do not be afraid”.

    We remind ourselves of that before the confession because the confession is part of making us able to live without fear.

    God our Father, we confess to you and to our fellow members in the Body of Christ that we have sinned in thought, word and deed, and in what we have failed to do.

    What we acknowledge when we confess is a bit like what most people acknowledge when they think about the world today or read the papers. Things are not the way they should be.

    In the confession, we acknowledge our part in it.

    And we do the thing needed to sort it out.

    We are truly sorry. Forgive us our sins, and deliver us from the power of evil, for the sake of your Son who died for us, Jesus Christ, our Lord.

    Now, confession relates to two aspects of life when we’re not together.

    Firstly, confession together in church is part of what shapes us into being people who will own up when we get things wrong in our lives when we are not in church.

    That how the liturgy in church is supposed to affect you.

    It shapes you and makes you different.

    That should be the consequence of coming here. And for goodness sake, if the liturgy here doesn’t do that, go and find somewhere where it does.

    Secondly, remember that our church also offers the chance to engage in the sacrament of confession privately with a priest.

    I have received the sacrament both as a penitent and a confessor and I would describe both as being a gift and a place where God does business with us.

    The rule in our church about private confession is very clear – all may, some should, none must.

    It is simply available and something which every priest in the church has to offer to everyone or point the person towards another priest who can hear their confession.

    That is available in this church and the clergy are happen to be approached about it at any time. Lent being a particularly good time.

    I was involved in a trial recently and one of the most important bits of it was when the sherrif said, “I have heard the crown witnesses and they have been both credible and reliable”.

    I already knew I was telling the truth.

    But it was something else to hear someone say they believed me.

    Confession is about telling the truth to God. Knowing who we really are in the world and facing up to the stuff we would rather not face.

    And  the promise is the same.

    If we do so. We will be forgiven.

    For God, who is both power and love, will forgive us and will free us from our sins,

    Will heal and strengthen us by his Spirit, and will raise us to new life in Christ our Lord.

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

24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

  1. Josh Avatar

    Being a good vicar to stony, unreceptive hearts might require a pickaxe to reveal gemstones within. It must be tough to minister to jerks and meanies, no? We lose faith in people easily – I certainly do. But a good vicar – a loving parent – doesn’t give on up one’s children.

    A good vicar might depend on the eye of the beholder. Whether you believe vicars and congregations are intrinsically good or evil might get you called a Pelagian or an Augustinian depending on who you ask. Faith in the work of a vicar or the reception of the congregation depends on good faith and co-operation – what then do we place our faith in? Hardly Protestant thinking, when faith is dependent on work, manifestation, and epiphany. A bad vicar might be sent to good people. A good vicar might be sent to bad people. Whether a vicar or congregation is subjectively or objectively good is a difficult question to answer.

    It is then that I prefer to see both the vicar and congregation not as “good” or “bad” but rather as equally “beloved”. However large the congregation, or even the vicar’s skill shouldn’t matter then. But that raises the question: Who then do we love if we are so beloved by God? Perhaps love might be the answer. A vicar and congregation who sees and knows themselves as equally and lavishly beloved of God will love each other. Love makes congregations meaningful and precious, no matter how small they might be.

  2. Josh Avatar

    And if I might add to my previous comment – And love also makes vicars meaningful and precious, no matter how small the congregation might be.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Yes – things which make the practicalities of small congregations include:
    the laity in most senior positions find it hard to see the inclusive love of God and to see the value of prayer and spiritual exercises, a shortage of laity with administrative abilities, a tiny handful of parishioners prepared to insist on unhelpful things all the time (the oldest liturgies every week, the kind of behaviour small children cannot sustain all service long, particular dress in those at church on Sunday to name but a tiny selection). In a larger church these things can be contained (one nasty comment for lady x outweighed by five or six lovely ones or simply finding somebody to be treasurer who can cope with the job). In a small church, however good the vicar, the nasty comment carries more weight, and the sorting out of the finances may take days of clergy effort. It is always hard to get from a tiny congregation to a large one.

    That said, I have sat through sermons so mind-numbingly boring and inappropriate that I have actually moved to another church.

  4. Paul Waddington Avatar
    Paul Waddington

    If one looks at the larger picture, the Archbishop’s optimism seems misplaced.

    According to the 1851 census, about five million people attended a Church of England service on the census day (a Sunday). The population of England and Wales at the time was about 17 million. These are round figures and I know that there were difficulties with the religious census, but they are good enough to demonstrate my point. Roughly speaking, about 30% of the population attended a CofE that Sunday.

    Recently published figures estimate average Sunday attendance at CofE churches at about 900,000. That is about 2% of the population of England. Wales is now excluded.

    So taking the long view, the trend is rather depressing for the CofE. Compared with 1851, fourteen out of fifteen no longer attend church regularly.

    As an aside, the 1851 census indicated a church attendance for Catholics of about 350,000. That is about 2% of the population. I understand that the current figure is very similar for Mass attendance is also around 900,000 or 2% of the population.

    Other recent research has indicated that the age range of CofE congregations is skewed towards the upper end. Certainly in my local parish, it is unusual to see anyone under the age of 60. I do wonder how many there will be in, say, 15 years time.

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Thanks Paul – I find that bishops generally tend to accentuate the positive when it comes to thinking about numbers in church. Whether that is because they only go to events that are comparatively well attended or whether it is actually because it is their job to be upbeat about possibilities is not clear to me.

  5. Pam Avatar
    Pam

    It is complicated – ‘good’ and ‘bad’ – poor adjectives. The rector is the leader of the congregation and needs support and trust. But, I think, no longer is the vicar held in such esteem as not to have to earn that support and trust. A good thing, mostly. Churches grow for all sorts of reasons – the level of involvement with non-believers, a prominent noticeboard and outstanding bikke and slice-makers all help.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • Public Opinion and Same-Sex Marriage – John Curtice

    A while ago we had a real treat at St Mary’s. Prof John Curtice gave a talk about public opinion and same-sex marriage. It was one of those forums which was very special for those who were there. There simply isn’t anyone who knows how to read and interpret public opinion as John can and…

  • Say a prayer for Fred Phelps

    For the last few years, the Westboro Baptist Church has become famous for picketting funerals and spreading a message of offensive hatred. There can be few who haven’t seen the “God Hates Fags” posters. When they first appeared, it seemed to be so vile that it might be a parody, but no, it turned out…

  • Adam and Eve – Sermon

    Here’s the video of yesterday’s sermon – somewhere along the way I’ve managed to lose the text, but the video is here in full. It is about Adam and Eve and about how their story is about now not then. There’s a nod to temptation and a chocolate boutique. I had the atonement in the…

  • Read thurible.net by email

    One of the surprises for me in keeping the blog over the last year or so has been how many people have taken up the opportunity to read thurible.net by email. I’d kind of thought that email was old fashioned technology and in many ways it is. But lots of people use old fashioned tech…