What is in Kelvin's Head?

Remembering Dr Pritchard

28/07/2014

Every day at morning prayer in St Mary’s we remember those whose year’s mind falls on that day. This means remembering by name in our prayers those from the congregation whom we know to have died on that day. Now, our year’s mind list goes back a few decades and we’ve added one or two prominent people from the past to it.

One of them came up today – Edward Pritchard.

It is a name that one could pray through and not pay any attention to but I think of him each year on this day when the anniversary of his death comes around. He was hanged on 28 July 1865 before a large crowd of people, tens of thousands, some said, on Glasgow Green. He was the last person to be hanged in public in this city. He had been convicted of murder, having killed his mother-in-law, his wife and possibly a maid in his household. As a trusted doctor he had been able to get hold of Antimony relatively easily. As a genteel murderer, his case was particularly shocking to people.

He was also a member of this congregation and he died with a curate from St Mary’s in attendance at the scaffold.

Religious people are pretty good at remembering those who have done something courageous. Saints are a real part of our continued worship, but what do we do with sinners?

It seems to me appropriate every year to remember Dr Pritchard. He seems to have been a rather nasty piece of work but I have this giddy belief unsubstantiated by anything other than Christian hope that nasty pieces of work are children of God just as much as those who live lives that are pure and holy. (And I’m not really stupid enough to think that people fall into only one category, either).

When I remember Dr Pritchard, I remember that God most loves those who need love most. As I pray, I remember those who are on death row today and I know with every greater certainty that I’m opposed to the death penalty. And I remember the mercy and love of God which is as real and true for the Dr Pritchards of the world as it is for anyone else.

So, recognising that it is as perplexing and puzzling to work out how to pray for Dr Pritchard as it is to pray for anyone else, I add to the corporate prayer of the church my own intentions, hopes and struggle.

For Dr Edward William Pritchard whose year’s mind falls today.

May he rest in peace. And rise in glory.

death penalty, Dr Edward Pritchard, Glasgow, murder, prayer

9 responses to “Turning Up and Being Counted”

Lesley-Ann craddock

26/11/2022

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

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Christine McIntosh

26/11/2022

Great stuff, Kelvin!

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Robert MacDonald

26/11/2022

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.

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Peggy Brewer

26/11/2022

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

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Calum Wyllie

27/11/2022

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…

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Meg Rosenfeld

27/11/2022

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.

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Father Ron Smith

27/11/2022

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!

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Kennedy fraser

28/11/2022

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

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John Davies

01/12/2022

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?

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