What is in Kelvin's Head?

Conversations with Catholics (and others)

08/01/2016

Over the next couple of weeks, I’m trying something new and a bit different at St Mary’s. I’m offering coffee and a chat to a couple of different kinds of people who are always present within the congregation. Tomorrow morning (Saturday 9 January 2016) I’m having a coffee morning for people in the congregation who have Roman Catholic roots. There’s always a significant number of such people in St Mary’s and I thought it might be interesting to get some of us together for a chat. In a fortnight’s time I’ll be repeating the exercise with those who have a background as evangelicals. I’ll see how these go and then see whether there’s any other groups which might want to meet. A couple of people said that they grew up as presbyterians and they should have a coffee morning but I’m not sure whether that one is one to go for or not. Another possibility that I’ve thought of is a chat with those who fit the Spiritual Seeker profile – those who’ve meditated with Buddhists, banged their drums, sweated in their sweat lodges, spun in circles and knitted their own lentils. We’ve always got a fair representation from that constituency and it might be interesting to gather such people together.

However, I’m starting with catholics because I know that those who come from a Roman Catholic background have a common conversation though not necessarily a common experience. Some come to St Mary’s who are quite clear that they are Roman Catholics still and that St Mary’s just happens to be a resting place for them on their journey. Others have an articulate conversation about what they have left behind and why they needed to move on from the Roman Catholic church and find something new. Rather intriguingly there’s a mix between those who come to St Mary’s because it allows them to live out their catholicism and those who come because it allows them to say that they’ve moved on from it.

St Mary’s offers an interesting place for those with catholic roots to worship. For many there’s the surprise that the worship is just like the worship that they have known within Roman Catholicism.

I once said to a liturgist that it wonderful, amazing and surprising that the modern Roman Catholic Mass was so similar to the liturgy of the Scottish Episcopal Church. “Not amazing at all!” he exclaimed – “we all of us, Romans and Anglicans and all the rest went to the same liturgy conferences in the 1970s”. Sadly in recent years with the new translation of the Roman Catholic mass into (terrible) English, we’ve moved a little further apart again but you can still very much recognise that things are essentially the same.

I’m soemtimes puzzled by the reactions of Roman Catholics who find themselves present in St Mary’s. We often have tourists who come from Roman Catholics countries who presume that it is a Roman Catholic church. They do so even, in my experience, when a female colleague has been celebrating at the Sung Eucharist. This puzzles me. But also encourages me a little.

For many from a catholic background we provide what they would have hoped for from their own church – a mass they recognise, social teaching on sexuality, marriage and divorce that is as positive as the catholic social teaching on economics that they believe in and a shared love and devotion to the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist alongside a love for his mother too. There are no doubt negatives – the sorrow of families feeling parted by church divisions over the Eucharist. (Everyone is welcome to receive in St Mary’s but that doesn’t begin to scratch the deep irritations surrounding who is and who is not able to receive communion in various churches). There are also confusing messages that the Scottish Episcopal Church sends out about membership that we might talk about. People tend to know they are Roman Catholics and tend not to be entirely sure whether they are Scottish Episcopalians. That could well be part of the conversation.

I’m looking forward to this and expect I’ll learn things. The invitation is open to anyone who wants to come and have a coffee with me in the Synod Hall on Saturday morning at 10.30.

24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

Josh

02/01/2014

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.

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Josh

02/01/2014

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.

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Rosemary Hannah

02/01/2014

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.

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Paul Waddington

04/01/2014

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.

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1. Kelvin
  
  04/01/2014
  
  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.
  
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Pam

04/01/2014

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.

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