• Sermon preached on 7 June 2015

    St Mary’s is a special place for all kinds of reasons.

    This place is a joy and a wonder and it is a place where I really enjoy preaching.

    I almost never come away from a Sunday or a feast day without feeling moved, inspired and thankful for the worship that we manage offer here together. And that’s a wonderful thing for a priest. Too many clergy, I suspect, conduct worship which doesn’t really excite them and which they wouldn’t go to if they didn’t have to.

    But not me. This is a special place.

    Just occasionally, Sunday’s can be a bit more stressful than you hope they will be. And what I have in mind this morning is the very occasional times when someone has taken ill during the course of the service.

    Now, the thing is, different churches deal with that in different ways. The best organised churches have someone at the door all ready to call an ambulance if one is needed.

    Here in St Mary’s, what usually happens is that a perfectly formed medical team seems to instantaneously form around the person who is laid low.

    I remember on one occasion someone leaning over to me and asking whether they should call 999 and my response was that they could do but there was much more chance of the person seeing an A and E doctor quickly here than actually at A and E.

    On one Sunday someone rather dramatically told me that someone in the congregation had died in church and asked me to bring the holy oil to anoint them. I sent for the oils and rather tentatively approached. As I did so, I found the “corpse” sitting up and fighting people off with the words, “Will someone get all these doctors away from me”.

    Not only is there suddenly a bunch of medics all set to do what they can but right behind them there seems to come a team of trained counsellors all ready to step in to offer comfort and concern to anyone who needs it.

    It is all very St Mary’s.

    I feel as though this morning’s gospel is a bit of an accident and emergency this morning.

    • Jesus’s family thinking he has completely lost the plot and needing saving from himself.

    • This line about the sin against the holy ghost that can never be forgiven.

    • And then Jesus comprehensively rejecting his mother and siblings.

    It is a tricky piece for any preacher.

    And if we had all the time in the world, I’d tell you to get into groups and try to sort it all out. And you know what I’d do, I’d have a group of medics trying to work out what was wrong with Jesus over here. And a bunch of psychiatrists over there trying to work out whether his issues with the devil were psychological ones.

    And the team of trained therapists could move in on the business with him rejecting his family. Some might want to spend time with Mary and his siblings trying to help them deal with his rejection and some might want to give Jesus himself a good listening to.

    And I think we could probably manage a team of theologians in another corner to try to work out the stuff about blasphemy against the holy ghost and to say what all that was about.

    And when they fell out about what that means, as I think it is probably inevitable that they would do because (trust me on this) no-one really knows what it means, we could send the counsellors over to that corner to help them listen more effectively to one another and do a little emergency pouring of oil on troubled waters.

    And then those who are in management might raise the question of problem solving in multi-disciplinary teams and suggest a significant reorganisation of resources.

    But by this stage we might have the justice and aid network forming themselves over in one coffee corner to remind us that blasphemy is a serious business in some parts of the world and people can be killed simply for being accused of blasphemy and asking whether or not we can have a forum speaker about this very important issue and reminding us that some in this very congregation come from those very countries and that all local issues are global issues and all global issues are local ones.

    And then you might get the lesbian and group having a subversive bible study group in another corner and having a very long conversation about the idea of first tying up the strong man in order to plunder his house and asking whether or not that is a prophecy of the overthrow of hetero-normative sexist homophobic society and whether or not we are about to usher in the commonwealth of God where all it justice and joy. And peace and light will appear to break out until someone suggests that this means we need to change from speaking about the kingdom of God to speaking about the queendom of God.

    And then we’ll need the team of trained counsellors and therapists all over again. And the musicians could come up with a chant on the important text, “Blessed are the peacemakers”.

    And pretty soon the God Factor people zoom into action to gather the questions that the congregation might have about the gospel of the day. And they’d be busily putting them all up on a sticky label wall so we can all see one another’s questions and then we would add more questions on top of the first questions. And it would never be too late to ask another question because accepting the questions is what it is all about.

    And then, this being St Mary’s, you’ll get some smart alec preacher in the pulpit going on and on about Jesus rejecting his mother and siblings and wondering whether this means that it is time for single people to remind those who live in couples and families that Jesus seemed pretty decisively to reject their way of life. And thanking God we don’t have family services here in St Mary’s because we’re a church for everyone.

    And on hearing this, the therapists decide they will work most effectively running a triage system and employing their talents to those who are most in need. And they split themselves into teams that quickly get to work here, here, here and here.

    And all the while, the poor gospel is lying there gasping for breath and saying, “All I wanted to do for you people was to bring you a bit of life”.

    So.

    What will we really take away from hearing it today?

    Can I suggest three little things.

    Firstly,

    That God’s compassion is so exciting that when it is found in Jesus it draws a crowd.

    And as a congregation we need to be ready for that to happen.

    Secondly, that God’s compassion is disruptive of our expectations and of our identities. And as the people of God we’d better be ready to be able to learn more about the expansive love of God than we already know. (And if we can’t do that we’re not the people God wants us to be).

    And finally – that God’s compassion comes to us as individuals. The love of God doesn’t come because of who we think we are – neither by profession nor, as this gospel teaches us via family or friends. This is not the news that Jesus regards his mother and siblings as unimportant. It is the better news that he regards every one of us as being just as close and loved by himself as as all of them.

    Because God loves us each, utterly and forever. And in God’s world, no-one comes first and we all belong to another.

    And after the service you can get into your teams and discuss the sermon.

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

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.

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