• Whither the Chrism Mass?

    I have a little list of those liturgical moments in the life of the church that I think could do with a bit of a rethink. Some of the most popular and well attended things that happen in churches would make it onto my list. Mothering Sunday and Remembrance Sunday are both on my little list. However, towering above them, comes a service that most Christians will never attend – the Chrism Mass.

    One of the things that I realised a few years ago was that the services which I’m most apprehensive about are often the services which don’t have a terribly long standing place in the Christian Calendar. They’ve not been in there that long, if they are fully in there at all. I’m attracted to a comment that a friend made this year about Mothering Sunday – that we should keep the commercial reality of Mothers’ Day and, if it makes sense in our lives, live it large but that the kitsch, sentimental, more modern and so very often upsetting Mothering Sunday stuff we should have no hesitation in expunging from our common ecclesiastical life.

    The Chrism Mass is much like Mothering Sunday and Remembrance Sunday in that lots of people have very strong opinions about how it should be celebrated and what it represents.

    The trouble is, there’s never been a common mind in the church about what those essential things are.

    And the consequence if you are the ring-master, is almost inevitably conflict and upset.

    The Chrism Mass, for those who’ve not a clue what I’m talking about, is one of those liturgies invented in the second-half of the twentieth century and which has acquired a curious patina of fake ageing. The idea is that the Bishop should bless the oils for the diocese for the coming year, surrounded by clergy of the diocese who will all joyfully reaffirm their ordination vows. And all this on Maundy Thursday.

    Now, there are some shreds and patches from history from which this rather elaborate quilt has been inelegantly stitched together. No doubt bishops did indeed consecrate holy oil.  However, the idea that diocesan clergy all “traditionally” gathered around them through the ages from Maundy Thursday to Maundy Thursday to renew their vows is patently absurd. We struggle to get half the clergy to come to St Mary’s for this ceremony and we’ve got motorways and motorcars. People did not, you must trust me on this one, nip in from all over Strathclyde, to renew their vows every Maundy Thursday with St Mungo. Geography and the lack of the electric train system gives the lie to the spurious claims sometimes made about these liturgies.

    These are some of the truths that I have learned about Chrism Masses over the years:

    • They *must* be held on Maundy Thursday. That is the traditional day.
    • They must *not* be held on Maundy Thursday – clergy are far too busy to be gathered together at that point in Holy Week
    • The renewal of vows is something that is intrinsic to the life of the priest
    • No-one should be expected to renew vows *unless they have consciously broken them*
    • We’ve *all* broken them
    • We’ve *not* all broken them
    • They happen in *every* diocese all over the world.
    • Some dioceses have *never* had them
    • The bishop is in charge – it is a *diocesan* service.
    • The cathedral is in charge – it is a *cathedral* service.  (oh yes!)

    And so on. The competing truths about Chrism Masses lead almost inevitably to conflict.

    Then, add fresh conflict onto that.

    Chrism Masses in some parts of the church – (Englandshire, I’m talking about you here) have become bizarre tests of loyalty as to which bishop your theological peccadillos most match.

    Yes, the English heresy of Pick Your Own Bishop reaches a great climax with competing Chrism Masses which become tests of loyalty. If you can’t affirm the ordination of priests or bishops who happen to be women then you’ll take yourself off (in the name of unity and keeping the church catholic and united) to a separate Chrism Mass with a bishop who can’t affirm them either.

    Sometimes there’s unintentional absurdities thrown into the mix too. I discovered a few years ago that the liturgy that I’d inherited here had people “reaffirming” the English ordination vows, which most of us had never made. (And that can really matter – the last thing we want is our bishops in Scotland believing that they are the focus of unity for a diocese as the English vows assert and which our Scottish ordinal steers well clear of).

    And that’s a real question – how do you affirm vows that you didn’t once make. I have the same trouble over affirming baptismal vows at Easter. I never made any when I was baptised – I just wanted to be baptised, so I struggle a bit with the idea of affirming or renewing anything.

    Some people always come to the Chrism Mass and love it. And for them, I try to put on a Chrism Mass, when I’m called to put on one, which they will recognise and enjoy. We did pretty well on Saturday with Bishop John coming over and celebrating for us in Glasgow, Bishop Gregor still being off sick. It was jolly enough but it is clear that this just isn’t important to some people, and I’ve got to admit, for the sake of honesty that I do have some sympathy with them too. (When I lived in the Diocese of Bridge of Allan, I can’t say I was terribly diligent in running up the road to Perth for the Chrism).

    So what would I do if I were the Lord High Arbiter of Liturgy for the Universe? (Apart from warding off all the other pretenders to that role).

    These are the conversations about the Chrism that I’d be looking to start:

    • Is the pairing of the ceremony of the oils and the renewal of vows an appropriate and natural one?
    • Is there anything to be learned from the experience of the Diocese of Argyll and The Isles which I think celebrates the Chrism Mass at their Diocesan Synod – just because of geography?
    • Should the clergy consider affirming their sense of themselves in private at a Clergy Conference if that’s what they need to do?
    • If not, which lay people should be present and to whom are these vow renewals addressed?
    • Do they (sorry, I mean we) need to do it anyway?
    • How do we affirm callings to the episcopate, priesthood and diaconate in an appropriate way in churches which affirm other kinds of ministries?

    Some liturgies feel terribly blocked by the sense that Things Have Always Happened This Way when in fact they’ve happened this way since the 1970s. The Chrism Mass is one such. I wish we had a way of thinking it all through from first principles again though my hunch is that that possibility is long gone.

    Maybe it will evolve over time naturally.

    This little Christian in his small corner of the vineyard rather hopes so.

     

9 responses to “Turning Up and Being Counted”

  1. Lesley-Ann craddock Avatar
    Lesley-Ann craddock

    Thank you Kelvin
    What a read, I really enjoyed it, all of it. You have touched on the 3 things that I too have been wrestling with.
    Liturgy , turning up to be counted, and being open and real with our peers and counterparts.
    Hmmm I wonder if those aspects of being church in this post pandemic implosion of society will somehow be a catalyst to become braver clergy and have proper discussions about what matters to Gods church in its own context. Can we be diverse and not divided, can we lock into our heritage and yet be able to change too. Can Branson pickle save us. X

  2. Christine McIntosh Avatar
    Christine McIntosh

    Great stuff, Kelvin!

  3. Robert MacDonald Avatar
    Robert MacDonald

    Good points well made. We find some church members, who organise a community lunch on a Wednesday, then regularly say ‘we won’t make it on Sunday’. Seems the wrong way round – attendance on a Sunday should come first.

  4. Peggy Brewer Avatar
    Peggy Brewer

    Reading this made my day and contributes to my celebration of the season! Thank you!

  5. Calum Wyllie Avatar
    Calum Wyllie

    Reading this, I feel like it could have been written about me. I couldn’t have been more deeply involved with my church (felt deeply rooted in the weekly liturgy, sat on the PCC, led on diversity and inclusion, set up online streaming for the first time during lockdown), yet I haven’t been back in two years. There is definitely an element of that link of continuity having been broken, and it’s up to me to make the effort to reforge it again. But the anger is also real, and hard to pin down. When somewhere no longer feels like home, when you feel excluded (even when that person was responsible for leading on inclusion!), how do you find the courage to return? When the link with spirituality feels more present in other places (even when I used to absolutely value liturgy, the Eucharist, the community), how do you find a way forward? Too much thinking, and not enough getting on and doing, perhaps…

  6. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    Wow–this article is not only thought-provoking, and, to someone who’s a church-goer, extremely easy to identify with, but also entertaining and therefore all the more memorable. As one whose parish church (in San Francisco’s notorious Haight Ashbury neighborhood) nowadays gets about 15 people in the congregation on a “good” day, I do often wonder whether we’re ever going to bounce back from this expletive-deleted pandemic. Personally, I have no choice: I am, on the aforementioned good day, 50% of the alto section, and on other days, 100% thereof. All you folks out there don’t know what you’re missing–except, of course, those of you who are watching on your home computers.

  7. Father Ron Smith Avatar

    Well said, Kelvin Perhaps we clergy don’t stress enough the fact that the Host at our worship is not the clergy, but the Incarnate Son of God; who empowers us to the extent that we are willing to be empowered for daily life and work. I still think of that lovely phrase “Turn towards HIM and be radiant”. What a thrill!

  8. Kennedy fraser Avatar
    Kennedy fraser

    Yes,I still wonder if we have counted all those spiritual communions

  9. John Davies Avatar
    John Davies

    My church (suburban, evangelical Anglican in Birmingham, UK) took a long time to really recover from the lockdown and subsequent fears, but seems to be close to its pre-shutdown numbers again. What my wife and I noticed was that for quite some time the congregation was largely made up of its elderly members – ie those who are not perhaps so nifty with the electronic gadgetry of our age and, also, those who most wanted company. Younger families took a lot longer to return, but are now coming out of the woodwork again.
    One interesting point is that my old church reported a big increase in deaf people watching their zoom or youtube services, because one of the congregation provided signage at the front. Their new found audience felt greatly enabled to join in when they may otherwise never have done so. Is this something worth thinking more about?

Leave a Reply

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

Previous Posts

  • What people are looking for

    The following search terms have all brought people to my blog in the last month: Lucy Winkett married (I’ve no idea) friendship as sacrament (if only the churches were this wise) Old St Paul’s homosexuality (A number of searches on this one suggesting that people are not finding what they are looking for from their…

  • Should churches use e-mail? Or indeed blogging?

    Yesterday’s post about the internet and what we can learn from the demise of HMV didn’t raise that many comments but it certainly did the rounds, being more shared on Facebook than anything that I’ve written in months. It was picked up as a conversation topic by the Anglican Church of Canada’s The Conversation too.…

  • 8 Things the Churches Could Learn From the collapse of HMV

    I’m sad to see that the HMV music chain is in trouble. The sadness that I feel about it though has to be accompanied with a knowledge that I’ve looked elsewhere for my entertainment recently. At one time I would have gone there to buy things for others and things for myself around Christmas. This…

  • Sermon preached for St Mungo – 13 January 2013

    I have to confess that for most of my life I did not give St Mungo much of passing thought. I certainly encountered him when I was in primary school up the road in that I remember a wonderful Primary 5 teacher in Bearsden making us do a project on the great urban conurbation that…