• Sermon at the Salvation Army in Clydebank

    Here’s what I said yesterday at the centenary celebrations for Clydebank Singing Company at Clydebank Citadel of the Salvation Army.

    May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight O Lord our strength and our redeemer.

    Major, I wonder whether you’d mind me starting with a confession.

    I know it is not the Salvation Army way but in the tradition that I come from, we have confession before we have anything. I tend to work a busy Sunday – I’ve already done one service this morning before I came here and I’ve got another regular one at 6.30 pm and sometimes I’ve got a couple more on a Sunday too. And all of our services begin with confession.

    (To be honest, sometimes on a Sunday I just don’t get the time to go out and have a good sin between one confession and another – but that’s another story).

    But the thing I have to confess this morning is that when I came through the doors of this place last night – I kept hearing people talk of holy things. Worship long past. Friendships made. Decisions to love God made here in this place and promises made here on this platform.

    I have to confess that that wasn’t the first memory that I had. When I came through the door all I could remember was being chucked out of Sunday School here one week for being disruptive.

    As it happens I can’t remember exactly who it was who turfed me out but it is a fair bet that it is someone whom I was sitting on the platform with last night. Sometimes God gives us the holy gift of forgetting things.

    Major – I’ll try to make amends today.

    A funny thing happened to me this week.

    I got a year older. And I did it by having an unglamorous birthday.

    Last Thursday was my birthday. No more for me the joys of being 48. From now on it is the waiting game that is being 49. What use is 49?

    Fifty may be fabulous but there’s nothing glamorous about being 49.

    But here we are celebrating a birthday that isn’t just glamourous it is exiting too – the 100th anniversary of the Singing Company here in Clydebank.

    It is a huge honour to be asked to say a few words this morning. In coming back here, I’m coming back to a place that I’ve not been in for about 35 years. (And I’m sure that the last time I was here it was 3 times bigger than it is today – I don’t know how you managed to shrink it). Other people will be here on this reunion weekend with their own memories and their own reminiscences of what it was like to be here a long time ago.

    But my roots here go back a little further. My own grandparents were the corps officers here in the 1930s and so in coming to speak here today I’m returning to their platform. And that feels strange – not strange in an unpleasant way but strange all the same. I know all kinds of circles have been turning as people have turned up this weekend.

    I couldn’t have predicted that I’d become a preacher when I sat here week by week and meeting by meeting. And certainly my Sunday School teacher (whoever it was) wouldn’t have predicted it for me either.

    Perhaps that experience of being excluded was the start of the ministry that I have today for one of the themes of my life is to provoke people into thinking about who is being excluded and who is being left out. My default position is that no-one is ever excluded from the love of God. And if I learned that here one way or another then I’ve a lot to be grateful for in coming back.

    But I can’t help my mind travelling back through time.

    The Singing Company here has been a thread running back through the life of the corps here for 100 years. As such it has had a huge influence on a huge number of people.

    As I think back through my own family history here I find myself thinking of the people who saw this town change. I think of my grandparents coming here as corps officers in confident times. And hearing the singing of a fairly newly formed singing company when they did.

    I think of my mother being held as a baby in a shelter up the top of the town by parents as the bombs fell.

    As they waited for the bombing to stop, they didn’t know whether her brothers, my uncles (also singing company members) would make it home from band practise.

    I only heard that story this year – I’d never heard it before.

    But the truth is, God doesn’t give us the gift of nostalgia – it isn’t one of the fruits of the Spirit. God gives us experience to prompt us to share in God’s loving works here on earth. That the kingdom may be brought one step closer every day that comes.

    The story of my uncles picking their way up the hill really came home to me in recent weeks when I realised that the bombs are still falling on people. And that young people are not just trying to find their way to safety up Kilbowie Hill – they are walking across Europe.

    And they need the same things my uncles needed. They need safety and security and someone to welcome them.

    I think our task is to join with others in welcoming them in God’s name.

    Inevitably this weekend, we think of both joys and sorrows. Of highs and lows.

    As I stand here I think of all the things that happen to all of us that I know have been in the conversation of all who have come to this reunion weekend. Loves and partings. Births, and deaths and marriages and all the things in-between.

    And there is one constant thing that we find people do through it all.

    They sing.

    This Singing Company has sung through changing times and through changing days.

    Yet I’ve no doubt that there’s something at the core of what it does that has not changed at all.

    For through all our sorrows and through all our joys we sing of a God who loves us.

    I don’t know whether you are someone who comes here week by week or someone who has just turned up out of the blue for this reunion. I don’t know whether you can still remember the things that you sang years ago or whether your mind goes blank when you think about what you sang here. I don’t know who you are or why you’ve come here today.

    But I do know that God loves you. And I know that simple truth was the very cause of setting up the Singing Company and the reason that people have given their time and their energy, their talent and their skills – simply because they’ve caught something of the idea that God’s love is real and God can be known and that the joy of the Lord is worth singing about.

    And that’s all I’ve really got to tell you this morning. God loves you to bits.

    It is the same message that my grandparents preached here. It is the same message that the singing company has sung about for a hundred years. And it is the same message that we take into the future. The love of God gives me hope that tomorrow will be better than today.

    I’ve no real idea whether the Singing Company will be around in another 100 years. I hope it is but I can’t know what the future holds.

    But I do know that in a 100 years it will still be the case that God loves human beings and wants everyone to be drawn into that love.

    When we come to a reunion it is inevitable that we look at the way we’ve changed. But the truth is, when we sing together we find ourselves singing about things that haven’t changed at all. God still cares for us and God still loves us.

    Last night the massed Singing Company sang through a concert where the love of God was the ever present theme.

    We have only one life to live. And God has only one message to give.

    Which is that all you need is love.

    Love, love. All you need is God’s love.

    Amen

10 responses to “Guest Post: At Home Among the Dissenters – John McLuckie”

  1. tom donald Avatar

    Are you really PAID by the NHS? Money that could pay for a nurse or a physiotherapist? You must be tremendously confident that your faith is meaningful if you are! I’m not sure if I envy that or not…

    1. Beth Avatar

      In most hospitals, there are hospital chapels and hospital chaplains. It isn’t a new or shocking thing. My experience has been that most of them do very good work, and are available for anyone from any religion who wishes to speak to them and don’t force themselves on the ones who prefer not to. The practice of medicine is about a lot more than just the physical, especially in a cancer hospital, and unless you want doctors to be the ones offering spiritual support (I don’t think I’d be that good at it, I don’t have enough hours in the day as it is, and, as my patients have to see me whether they subscribe to my religion or not, I think it can be inappropriate and intrusive), I’m quite happy for the NHS to pay someone who specialises in the area of spiritual support to fulfill that very real need.

      – Beth, who works for the NHS

      1. Ruth Avatar
        Ruth

        Thank you Beth. I couldn’t have put it better.

        – Ruth, whose sister died in hospital not all that long ago

    2. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
      Rosemary Hannah

      Agree with Beth, and …
      is this really a world where the big ideas about birth, death, love, hate, forgiveness, suffering should not be discussed? Where one can live and suffer and give birth and die without thinking about them? does not the very suggestion this should be so impoverish us every bit as much as as suffering and death can? And is certainty in any way necessary to enter such a discussion?

      1. tom donald Avatar

        Interesting! My original question was about confidence… here’s one to test it a little more, today there’s a headline in the Guardian:
        ” NHS to axe cancer and heart experts. Charities and doctors warn that treatment of killer diseases will suffer as number of teams is cut”
        Yet according to the BBC the NHS is spending £40 million per annum on chaplains!
        Which means that chaplains must be VERY confident that this money is better spent on talk than treatment, or I’m sure they wouldn’t take it. Would they?
        By the way I was a nurse at Gartnavel Royal for many years. Never saw hide nor hair of the chaplain up there, although apparently, there was one!

  2. John MacBrayne Avatar
    John MacBrayne

    What an excellent blog John has. Most interesting. Thanks for the link.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Um – as one with friends and family in the NHS I wonder how much of the money spent in the last weeks of a terminally-ill person’s life is well spent. Sometimes a great deal is spent on treatments which are hugely unpleasant and prolong life by weeks or months at best. I made a decision years ago that when (and given family history when is more likely than if) I find myself there I will ask very searching questions.

    I won’t answer for John, but for myself… I am ‘tremendously confident’ that examining the questions around my faith is ‘meaningful’ and indeed essential. That is not at all the same thing as being sure my beliefs are right.

    We have what is supposed to be a Health Service – something which promotes well-being. People are more complex than their conditions – and we all die one day. A great deal of money is spend on all kinds of things which make the lives of those in hospital better, because people cannot get through life-crises on medicine alone.

  4. tom donald Avatar

    I think that characterising cancer and heart disease treatment as terminal care is extremely depressing, and perhaps fifty years out of date. And the health service is there to promote well-being? I don’t think so, I think it’s to provide medical and para-medical care during illness..
    Not that I don’t love chatting to a minister of religion, anytime. I do! But not on the NHS budget please! UNLESS…
    Unless it’s been demonstrated in properly designed clinical trials that a visit from the chaplain is worth the cash. That’s the test for all the other expensive treatments we’re paying for!

  5. rosemary hannah Avatar
    rosemary hannah

    I did not describe cancer and heart conditions as terminal. However I do expect to die one day.

  6. Ruth Avatar
    Ruth

    I’m not sure that the benefits to a patient from a visit from the chaplain could be usefully or accurately measured by ‘properly designed clinical trials’…. from a personal viewpoint I know that the last twelve weeks of my sister’s life (a young 62 year old with cancer and desperate to live) were made more bearable by the chaplain’s ability to help her cope with the sullen, spitefulness of too many of her nurses.

Leave a Reply

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

Previous Posts

  • Gifts and Skills

    One of the themes that I'm wanting to pick up on at St Mary's if that of Gifts and Skills. We're hoping to be running some kind of course or retreat or series of workshops in the autumn which focus on the idea of discerning your gifts and skills. The sermon this morning that Akma…

  • Are there any gay friendly Episcopal churches in Edinburgh?

    Someone said something to me earlier this week which quite shocked me. They said there was no Episcopal congregation in Edinburgh which was welcoming to LGBT people. By this, they did not mean that there was an absence of any Episcopal congregations with happy gay people in them. That is clearly not so. The question…

  • What people are searching for

    Here is the latest list of the things that people are searching for, which result in them alighting on this blog: Buying new swimming trunks – presumably ended up on this post Madonna knitting – will have resulted in this one Please don’t take him just because you can – will be referencing this one…

  • Attitudes

    Now, there has been some real news worth noting in the week that is passed. The new Scottish Social Attitudes survey has been published. It is a huge survey of what people in Scotland think about a number of different things. The value of this research is that they keep asking the same questions over…