• The Visitation and an Anniversary

    Today is the Feast of the Visitation. It also happens to be the anniversary of me coming to St Mary’s 8 years ago.

    Those who were around then will remember that my ministry started here with a hugely exciting service of induction and installation. I had to be made the Rector and I had to be put in my stall as the Provost. It was one of those services where we threw just about every liturgical trick in the book at it and it worked.

    To be honest, I find most induction services rather dull. We’ve got into the habit of using miserable liturgies for induction services in which there is a central drama of people putting gifts into the new priest’s hands to symbolise all that they are getting by coming to their new job. I hate it and tried to keep it to a minimum when it was my turn here. In particular, I refused to receive the keys of the church – one of the most silly symbols the church has ever invented, in my view.

    I remember saying at one point in the planning of the service, “Well, you can put the keys on a nice velvet cushion and process them up the aisle and bring them to me and bow deeply and offer them to me and I’ll still say ‘No, I am not receiving these keys’”. In the end they never appeared and I didn’t have to publicly say no to them.

    The giving of gifts symbolises things that I’m not comfortable with at all. It is an enactment of a system of power that exists in congregations which is very far from being healthy. (It is also a little bit of liturgy that doesn’t have a great deal of history to it).

    When someone becomes a Rector in a congregation, they find themselves given a load of power right at the beginning. And right from the beginning, their success, or otherwise, will be marked by how they chose to retain that power, give it away or share it.

    The appropriate letting go of power is one of the great themes of Christian ministry but one that is very rarely discussed when clergy are being trained.

    I find myself now, knowing less about what is going on at St Mary’s than once I did. You have to learn to trust people and let go.

    As it happens, I’m off sick for this anniversary and the church is coping without me. I wish I was around this weekend as I’d have enjoyed celebrating an anniversary mass this morning and would rather be worshipping at St Mary’s on a Sunday than anywhere else in the world. (We give ourselves permission to be excited by the worship in St Mary’s – when we are on form, the worship is allowed to be as interesting, moving, funny and passionate as it should be).

    However, even though I’m not there, I’ve every confidence that all will be well without me.

    Once upon a time, I’m not sure that would have been so. I’d have been off sick and still worrying about the place.

    Looking back, there have been wonderful high points since coming here eight years ago. I think that the church is a happier place than it was then too. And I never think happiness should be dismissed. It matters rather a lot.

    I’m happy here at St Mary’s too.

    Eight glorious years.

    Thanks be to God.

9 responses to “Never mind the quality, feel the width”

  1. chris Avatar

    Gosh, you’ve hit an apparently tender spot there. As someone who was originally brought into the church – and I mean the whole shebang, not just a particular building or denomination, though that was important too – by beautiful music and dignified liturgy, I have been asking for an aspiration towards excellence for the past 30 years or so. But is it not the case that for many people that smacks of an elitism that sits ill with their idea of ‘being church’ (a vile phrase, therefore I use it not)? The idea that as church is for all, you’re not allowed to look for certain standards in music, in reading, in serving …
    I could go on, but I don’t need to. You’ve said it. Go for it! (And please delete the earlier comment, in which I was so carried away by my parenthesis that I forgot to finish the original clause)

  2. kelvin Avatar

    I was thinking about all of this yesterday. It is choir holidays at the moment and yesterday the choir were singing down in Englandshire. It might have been expected to be a bit of a flat day here. However, there was none of that. We had a good turnout and wonderful worship both morning and evening. No sign of a summer slump and it was obvious that people came expecting something good even without the regular musicians.

    Summer Sung Evensong last night attracted 37 souls. That’s 35 more than might have been expected to turn up seven years ago.

    Now, we’ll all be thrilled when the choir come back and put the icing on the cake in a few week’s time – they are full of fabulousness, but yesterday was good proof that we are not simply a one-trick musical pony.

  3. chris Avatar

    Well as you know we don’t have a choir in my church, tho’ many years ago there was a great one with children and adults. But we can still produce a frisson, and the reaction of visitors bears that out; it’s just that not everyone seems to see what produces said frisson.(I know. It’s not just us, but …)

  4. Fraser Pearce Avatar

    Excellent points and something of an encouragement to me at the moment.

    The new set up is much better on my phone, by the way.

    Fp

  5. […] it for six, it’s not just cosy log-rolling for me to affirm his point. This morning, Kelvin says what great many people won’t: that excellence and forethought and diligence and attention really do make a tremendous difference […]

  6. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Preaching. I have a wealth of experience of hearing terrible preaching, and a wealth of hearing good. The gulf between the two is immense. I have NO IDEA how one can persuade those who cannot, really really cannot, preach to do something to raise their game. I think you hint the way is probably to persuade those who can, REALLY can to raise their game too. HOW? How when the attempt to hold a music day fails,and people generally find that a much easier thing to approach? Teaching preaching is something at which I am good – if you ever find a way, I will come along and help coach.

  7. […] worship Posted by Fr. Sam Keyes on July 23, 2012 | 0 comments Kelvin Holdsworth, Provost of St. Mary’s in Glasgow, wonders why more people don’t consider the obvious […]

  8. chris Avatar

    Couldn’t agree more about the music days either, Rosemary – we’ve held several singing workshops here, and unless they are tied in to fundraising and a BBQ the attendance tends to be thin and the usual suspects – who can generally sing quite respectably anyway – turn up.

    1. Kimberly Avatar

      but thankfully, you do a really good BBQ so there is hope yet.

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