• Installation/Institution

    For the next three months, I’m on sabbatical from St Mary’s, enjoying the freedom that Bishop Gregor and the congregation have given me to think and reflect and grow.

    The last formal thing that I did as Provost of St Mary’s before sabbatical time started was to go to the start of a new ministry – the installation of the Very Rev Nicola McNelly as the new Provost in the Cathedral in Oban.

    It was a very splendid affair indeed. St John’s was as spruced up as St John’s can be and the place was nice and full to welcome Nicola. There was a good turn out from the Province too and Bishop Kevin preached an excellent sermon. The gist of it was that people treat the words ‘We’ve never done it this way’ as being somehow equivalent in their thinking to the seven last words of Jesus and then proceed to crucify the church over them. In passing, he made reference to the analogy between the way God loves us and the love that human beings have for one another. And yes, he was quite explicit that this means the love that men and women share, that men share with men and women share with women.  (I hinted afterwards to him that one of our Scottish newspapers has a new devotional slot on its front page just crying out for a sermon like that and that he should send it in).

    Jolly party afterwards at which old friendships were made and new one’s kindled. Always fun to meet people whom you have seen and hear about online but suddenly meet in the flesh. (Or indeed, fun to hear a twitter contact singing Calon Lân at the start of the liturgy – which happens to be one of my favourite tunes).

    So then on to sabbatical time.

    And the first thing I go to on sabbatical is…?

    Yes, the start of a new ministry with an induction service for a new Rector. Different bishop (This time the Bishop of New Westminster) but so very much the same that it was uncanny. Same opening hymn, same joy, same sense of purpose and same kind of happy crowd of people enjoying being together and celebrating the hope and expectation that a new ministry can bring.

    One of these services did have a handbell choir as well as a choir of voices and one did not though.

    Interestingly, both services managed to make sense of the now ‘traditional’ giving of gifts (keys, bible, oil, bread and wine etc) to the new provost/rector. In each case, the giving of each gift was followed by a statement from the person concerned inviting the congregation to share with them the giving of the gifts for the sake of the world.

    I can sometimes come away from such services depressed for it feels as though we have encumbered the incumbent with more than they should decently be expected to bear. In both these services though it felt as though purposeful, healthy leadership was being seen as part of a healthy collaborative endeavour of God’s people.

    So, blessings to the new ministries I’ve seen commence this week. God bless them one and all.

66 responses to “Sermon Preached on 9 October 2011”

  1. kelvin Avatar

    Now, I think we are in danger of moving away from commenting on the sermon that was posted above.

    Further comments that are focused on that sermon are welcome. I think that I will exercise my perogative and choose not to host any further debates on this thread unless they pertain directly to the orginal post.

    Several comments from those of differing opinions have been gently hushed.

  2. Alan McManus Avatar

    I remember hearing you preach this sermon, Kelvin, and being surprised at your take on it. Mine, I now realise (thanks for the research, Rosemary), came from Augustine (via my RC school chaplain, now happily married, whose constant theme was the love of God for us). It’s difficult to revise views learned while young as the evidence we accepted as children is not always acceptable to our adult minds – if we chose to review it. So I sympathise both with my coreligionist and with our Cromwellian interlocutor, despite their abrasive tone and the fun we can have with bowels and prostrates: they appear both to speak the truth as they see it. But so does everyone else commenting – and some (like Jaye) read the Hebrew scriptures in the original. I like the interpretation put forward by Kenny and Agatha and just because it was a convenient one for Augustine doesn’t mean it has to lack truth. So I turned to the Greek for backup and the first word that struck me was Ἀρίστων (ariston) which has connotations of excellence and survives in ‘aristocrat’. This king calls his ‘banquet’ (Jerusalem Bible) literally ‘my excellence’ – and he’s obviously gone all out. So none of the big wigs turn up and he goes all inclusive and gets the good and the bad in. Then throws a hissy fit about the dress code. He sounds A LOT like me when I’m directing. Then I noticed there’s a lot of play on IN and OUT (even ‘crossroads’ is διεξόδους – diexodous – way out ways?) and the final words are a pun on κλητοί (kletoi – named/ invited) and ἐκλεκτοί (eklektoi – called/ chosen).
    Now I suspect that shackling a quest hand and foot and shoving him out the door into outer darkness (the Greek word for darkness is the Classical root of ‘Scotland’!) may have put a rather gloomy outlook on the evening’s festivities. Could that be the point? It’s sandwiched between the parable of the wicked husbandmen that has the son of vineyard owner exit sharply and the trap Jesus escapes about taxes.
    With all this about ‘who’s in who’s out?’ and ‘which side of the coin are you on?’ can we take this passage with a pinch of Paul (and Augustine, and Cromwell) and say ‘our righteousness is as filthy rags before the Lord’? So the point is not how we are named/ that we are invited but that the church (ekklesia) we are chosen and called to be is not one of domineering control freaks throwing hissy fits because the excellence of their table arrangements has been spoilt by someone not following rubrics. Or by (ditto) because their nice ideas about biology (JS, once you mention ‘purpose’, no biologist will take you seriously) have been spoilt by people in love. St Mary’s is a great liturgical feast indeed. Everyone goes all out for excellence. Yet I’ve seen the oddest-dressed people doing the oddest things (me late, again, in my glad rags included) welcomed. The RC Church in Scotland, of whose hierarchy I am deeply deeply ashamed, would do well to stop whitewashing sepulchers and start calling the clergy and laity in their charge to inclusive love.

    1. Alan McManus Avatar

      That should be άριστον, guest, εκλεκτοί. Transliteration is correct, it was the cut and paste that was slapdash. Fortunately my phone does Greek (no pun intended) but it doesn’t do breathings.

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