The Rev’d Dr. Mike Kirby’s First Celebration of
The Cathedral Eucharist, Sunday 13 July 2014.
‘But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit.” Romans 8.9.
Madness.
Clergy are an odd bunch, as you well know! Are they chosen for the eccentricity do
you suppose? Or for their madness?
Take a few examples from history. Parson Hawker, a 19th century priest of
Morwenstow, spent much of his time on the Cornish cliffs, looking out for bodies of
shipwrecked sailors. From his hut on the cliff-side, he would rush down to either
rescue them or bury them. He lived life to the full. One Christmas Eve, his
churchwardens had to wheel him to midnight mass in a barrow for he had started to
celebrate rather early. In spite of this, he had a great desire to close the gap between
the labourers and the church goers so it was he who began the tradition of Harvest
Festivals, the first taking place on 1st October 1843.
Another example from the early 20th century was The Rev’d Harold Davidson of
Stiffkey, Norfolk. He was an actor before ordination and after some undistinguished
service as a Royal Navy Chaplain in the 1st World War, found himself drawn to the
fallen women of central London. He became known as the prostitutes’ padre though
in spite of a long court case against him, there was no evidence of infidelity. In order
to raise money to support himself through the courts, he returned to acting and started
to entertain the crowds from a barrel on Blackpool promenade.
A third example would be the priest-poet R.S.Thomas whose parish lay at the end of
the Lleyn Peninsula in North Wales. Thomas did not excel in pastoral work. Rather
he would watch the birds migrating and write in the stillness sublime poetry which
touched the very essence of God.
And then we have Mike. Kirby, who spent many hours peering down the microscope,
exploring the edge of knowledge and then putting that into practice in the hospital as
he observed life re-colonizing sick patients.
Four clergy, all perched on the edge of life, looking for meaning in the most unusual
and often dangerous situations – all certifiable as a result of their passions; all verging
on madness.
And this madness is an ancient affliction. St. Paul refers to us all as ‘fools for Christ’s
sake’ while St. Bernard of Clairvaux in the 12th century calls his monks ‘acrobats and
jugglers’ for in the eyes of the world, they were standing on their heads. And
Michael, for the past year, has been wearing his stole diagonally: confronting gravity,
challenging the world, presenting a radically alternative life-style.
Mystery.
So we are in the midst of madness but we are also on the brink of mystery. These
clergy are placed on the very edge of life by their divine call, to gaze into the mystery,
to make sense of that which is not obvious to human kind. And one such mystery is
the presence of God in the world. This is what St. Paul is struggling with in that very
dense passage which we heard as our epistle this morning in Romans Chapter 8. Here
Paul, with his forensic intellect, explores that essential human experience, sin and
holiness; flesh and Spirit. The human condition is stretched between our tendency
towards sin and our response to Christ as we try to live in The Spirit. – Capital S, the
Spirit shared with us at our baptism. ‘You are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit’.
It is this tension, stretched over the presence of God in the world that is too much for
many people and they opt out of the struggle. For we have to admit, living the
Christian life – though often glorious – is also a struggle. But we believe that this
struggle is eternally worth-while and God’s clergy are there to remind us of it – to
remind us of the rumour of God.
Just before Easter, there was a picture in the paper of Prince William and Kate visiting
a canyon on their tour of New Zealand. It showed them at the cliff edge, the prince
peering down; the princess standing well back. Here is the difference between the
deacon and the priest. Up until now, Mike has assisted the priests in their duties but
now he is required to step forward, to look deep into those mysteries: at the font, on
the grave-side and especially bending over the mystery of the Holy Communion with
which we are fed today.
It is because they are attracted to this mystery that ordinary men and women stand on
the edge of understanding. They do so through long hours in prayer, snatched
worship, study of the scriptures and wrestling to express all this in words, poetry,
action.
Here this morning we are drawn into the mystery of the word made flesh, of spirit
inhabiting matter, of bread and wine becoming the body and blood of Christ. Here is
mystery, presided over by ordinary men and women turned ever so slightly mad in the
eyes of the world.
So we have madness and mystery – the two gossamer separated. Some leader in the
careing professions has said that if the churches were to close down, the mental
hospitals wouldn’t cope with the extra pressure.
Mediocrity.
Madness, mystery ….and mediocrity. Madness is inhabited and mystery explored by
ordinary men and women called by God to be watchmen. The Church gets the clergy
it deserves because the clergy are drawn from the likes of you and me – ordinary folk
who comprise the extraordinary body of Christ. For generations, a large section of the
English Clergy has been drawn from the choir-stalls of church and cathedral. It’s not
surprising really. They sing about the mystery, expressed more eloquently in song;
they observe the madmen and women who take responsibility for it all. Mike’s
vocation has come through this route and there are others sitting here today – in back
and front row – who will make ideal madmen, presiding over the mysteries of God.
No priest – not even one with the capabilities of Mike Kirby – can stand in his own
strength. We are sinful men and women called to be and do an extraordinary job by
Christ who is our strength and our exemplar. It is just here that we feel that tension
between flesh and Spirit, sin and holiness the most keenly, most painfully - and it
doesn’t help when people put us on pedestals. It can be terribly destructive.
Let me leave you with a picture of Antony Gormley’s installation on Crosby Beach.
It consists of 100 identical cast-iron human figures set in the sand and all facing out to
sea. It is called, ‘Another Place’. Here, rusting gently is Parson Hawker, Harold
Davidson, R.S. Thomas, Mike Kirby and a hundred thousand others who cannot take
their eyes off the mystery of the loving God who will not let us go. Amen.