What is in Kelvin's Head?

  • Yesterday

    When I came to St Mary’s (yes, nearly 7 years ago) I was installed at a splendid service at which my former bishop, the Rt Rev David Chillingworth (now our Primus) preached. In his sermon, he referred to my time at Bridge of Allan and how the people there described my ministry when he went to meet them after I had left.

    The thing that he commented on in that sermon was that people had said, “Oh, the thing about Kelvin is that he knows how to throw a good party”. One or two people got the wrong end of the stick at that comment (yes, choir members, that’s you I’m talking about) and thought that my life in Glasgow was going to be all about parties in Praepostorial Towers.

    What they didn’t realise at the time was that Bishop David, and indeed my former congregation, were referring to the liturgy. For various reasons, St Mary’s wasn’t a terribly celebratory church when I came here and I’m guessing that folk just couldn’t imagine that Bishop David was talking about What Goes On In Church. My installation service was a burst of great joy that people still sometimes talk to me about and I hope it was a great sign of things to come. That was the intention anyway. The truth is, I think that we’ve got something worth celebrating in church and I get no greater delight than being around when the people of God are enjoying what they’ve got to celebrate.

    Thus, though I love the greater feasts of the church and try to wind everyone as far up the candlestick of joy as I dare, it is often the lesser feasts that give me the greatest kick. Generally speaking, I think that if all is well in a congregation, it is the duty and the joy of the clergy simply to let the joy out of the box and not keep it stuffed inside. Sometimes you don’t need to do much either – just let it happen. We’ve a God who says “yes”, after all.

    It was only really on Thursday evening that I realised that this weekend was going to be as special as it was. Saying yes to people gets you a long way.

    We had a visiting choir, from Groton School in Massachusetts. It wasn’t just that though as it is a choir run by someone who was on the musical staff here at St Mary’s when I came here – Chris Hampson. So there were friendships to be renewed and new friendships to be made. Frikki Walker, our musical maestro put them all through their paces in his own bubbly style and we were all set for a great Sunday.

    But then somehow, Sunday – Refreshment Sunday, took wings. Our choir sang with the American choir and so the congregation was treated to a procession of 70 odd singers, most of whom were under twenty. I don’t know whether it was because word had got out, but we soon started to have to ask people to share service sheets and by the time we got to communion we realised we hadn’t allowed for enough communion hosts. The God of surprises had turned Refreshment Sunday into a foretaste of the Great Feast that will come to us. Well, will come to us, if He rises.

    We had the Return of the Prodigal as the gospel reading and a cracking sermon from Cedric Blakey the Vice Provost. (You can watch it again online here: http://thecathedral.org.uk/2013/03/10/sermon-preached-by-the-rev-cedric-blakey/) Then we had visitors from Malawi to welcome who were here to talk about subsistence farming. (They are the people directly connected with the rice we sell on the Fair Trade stall every week). And there was the God Factor going great guns with a session on the Bible and the news of people being confirmed and baptised at Easter.

    It was a Sunday which was more than the sum of its parts though. The snow was blowing around outside the church yesterday. Inside, I think it was angels.

    Dear Lord.
    When I get cynical about the church,
    help me to remember Sundays like this one.
    Amen

    , ,

24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

  1. Josh Avatar
    Josh

    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.

    Reply
  2. Josh Avatar
    Josh

    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.

    Reply
  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.

    Reply
  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.

    Reply
    1. Kelvin Avatar
      Kelvin

      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.

      Reply
  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.

    Reply

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