St Mary's

My intention today is to discuss the form of our liturgy here at St Marys and to comment on my perspective about the liturgy.  I speak as one who respects the values of the community and who hopes the liturgy will remain focussed on the things we have in common.  I trust that we can take the best out of the Christian tradition of liturgy and reject the prayers and ceremonies which do not express our attitudes, are not relevant to our lives but are laid down by the institutional Church.

Eureka Street is a publication by the Jesuits which now is available only online.  Anyone who, over the years, has read some of the excellent articles in this magazine written by the Jesuit Andy Hamilton will know him to be a man with great knowledge and wisdom, who is always looking for ways to make the Christian message topical and modern.  So I was particularly interested in Andy Hamilton’s comment on the book about Peter Kennedy.  In it, he said that the  greatest challenge facing St Mary’s is to make sure that we are part of the Christian church and do not become a sidelined sect.  Andy Hamilton gave as his considered opinion that the most important criterion of whether or not we are meeting this challenge is the form of our liturgy.  Today, I will try to show why I consider that aiming to continue to be a part of the Christian Church is a worthy ambition for St Mary’s and why I believe that our form of liturgy is helping us achieve that ambition.

First, let me tell you some of my background.  I think it was Woody Allen who said that he was born of mixed parents – a man and a woman.  All human being are born of those same mixed parents, but Australians can claim to have a mixture of more races and of more cultures than most countries.  I am no exception.  My father was ethnically Jewish, but did not practise his religion after leaving school to go to Gallipoli.  My mother’s parents were both Irish and of the tradition best expressed by the story of the Irish immigrant who asks, immediately on landing in the new country, “Have you got a government?” On being informed that there was a government, he declared “Well, I’m agin it”.  Anti-authoritarianism is a strong trait in Australia, and I have inherited some of it.  This is probably why I am at St Marys and possibly explains the presence of others not noted for their bowing down to authority.

Being against some government is good if the government is not competent, but one needs to look at what one wishes to put in its place. Today, I wish to discuss this in the context of St Marys.

The first issue is the place of Christianity in our lives.

A. The history of the human race is the history of the increasing domination by us of all other living creatures, accompanied by an inability of men to live in harmony with each other.  Conquering other forms of life has been easy; what has been difficult has been finding a way for people of different races and backgrounds to live together in harmony.  No one had found the perfect formula until a poor carpenter in an out of the way Roman province called Judea called on men and women to give up selfishness and anger and greed and instead to love God and to do unto others as you would that they should do to you.  Jesus had a simple message – to love God and love your neighbour as yourself.  There are other approaches, but this is the one that appeals to me and, I believe, to most of the people who come to St. Marys.

B. Let us now look at what this has accomplished.  The best of Western civilization,  its acknowledgement of the rights of each person, its search for equality, its tradition of caring for the disadvantaged, its emphasis on ethical behaviour – all these have followed from the flowering of the ideas of one man born 2000 years ago.

C. What has been the downside of Christianity?  Unfortunately, like any human institution, men more interested in personal power than in the good of the community have often seized the reins of power and used them for personal aggrandisement, rather than doing what Jesus wanted the leaders to do – to serve others.  I need hardly remind you of the recent example of the way that Peter Kennedy has been treated as an example of the abuse of power.  History gives many more examples – of the Crusades, of the Inquisition, of the declaration that those who do not toe the official line are heretics and either repent or can be killed.  But notice what the average Christian is doing while these horrors are going on.  Most Christians are living their lives quietly, striving to continue to worship God in a way that is in accordance with their personal beliefs and to help those of their neighbours who are more unfortunate than they.  Parish priests ministered to their parishioners and the people lived ordinary lives, remembering Christ’s precepts to love God and their neighbour.  And if we think we are badly done by, we should be glad we are not in the time of the Inquisition and in danger of being burnt at the stake!

I consider that most people in this congregation would be like me.  I wish to be a part of the quiet Christian Church which acknowledges that I am created by a greater power and wish to worship that power, which I call God, but will have no truck with the hierarchical Catholic Church when it abuses its power and tells me what I must believe and what I must do, even if my mind and heart tell me that the official church is wrong.   I wish to worship God among like-minded people and to find a community that is prepared to look at modern scholarship and recent insights in theology, but still retains the core of Christianity – that Christ is the centre of our lives and that we should study and follow His teachings.

So we come to the second challenge posed by Andy Hamilton’s words – what will be the form and content of our liturgy?

For me, the question of liturgy is in three parts – the fixed prayers, the prayers relevant to that day and the input of the congregation.

a.   Firstly, the fixed prayers.  As we all know, the Roman missal has become ossified as the old images of God and the old ways of saying that we acknowledge our indebtedness and gratitude to God are trotted out; often it is conducted in a way that emphasises the rote aspect of Mass and it is hard to hear, let alone relate to, the celebrant.  Compare this with St Mary’s.  We have a modern, enlightened ceremony with a form of words for the consecration which I think is brilliant.  Whoever composed it should be congratulated as it incorporates enough words from the gospel accounts of the Last Supper to remind us of the purpose of the Mass – to do this in memory of me. All the important sayings are there, in particular the words this is my body. Now, I would be the first to admit that I do not know what these words mean.  I reject the idea of transubstantiation.  But, whatever Jesus meant by them, the words were obviously important to Him as He was prepared to put up with the desertion of many of His followers because they thought He was committing blasphemy.  So, if This is my body is so important for Jesus, it is fitting and right that the words are included in our liturgy.

b. Secondly, The prayers of the day.  I have written a letter which Marg Ortiz was kind enough to publish in St Marys Matters, outlining my reasons for wanting readings from the Bible to be included in the prayers.  As Marg is not an advocate of the bible, especially the Old Testament, she is to be praised for publishing a contrary point of view.  I would prefer some readings from the Bible as the Old Testament, with all its faults, was the basis for Christ’s understanding of theology and what Jesus would have read and discussed in the synagogues.  (As an aside, knowing my Jewish relatives, I am sure the discussion would have frequently become quite heated).  Secondly, I appreciate hearing readings from the New Testament because, as I reject the institutionalised Catholic Church’s idea of the importance of tradition, this is the only source we have when seeking to know about Christ.

There seems to be a growing tendency for the homilist to pick reading and prayers relevant to the theme of the homily and this has resulted in a more logical and coherent ceremony.  I was grateful for the opportunity to pick readings, one from the new and one from the old Testament, which illustrate the value of prayer.  If some of the readings at our Masses are from recent writings and express ideas not usually part of the Christian tradition but are consistent with the St Marys tradition of caring for others, seeking justice for the marginalised and regarding our spiritual life as a vital part of living, I am sure that they are welcome.  I particularly welcome the homilies which Peter or Terry have given us over the years, showing that the best modern ideas of how to emphasise justice and compassion in our lives do not always come from a Christian tradition.

c. Finally, the input from the congregation.  The tradition at St Mary’s that the prayers of the faithful are offered by people who wish for the congregation to join them in their grief or concern is a marvellous one and has become one of the features which make coming to Mass here such a marvellous experience.   I can remember years ago being present at a Mass at St Marys at a time I attended here rarely.  One of my relatives, who has since died, Candy Cannon, suffered from a mental illness, and she asked for prayers for what was bothering her. What was worrying her were paranoid ideas and her prayer soon degenerated into delusions.  I did not have time to act before some members of the congregation kindly and gently lead Candy back to her seat and comforted her.  A great example of the acceptance of difference and the care for the marginalised which characterises St Marys and which has always been the glory of the Christian tradition.

To sum up, I think most people here would think of themselves as Christians who choose to worship as members of St Mary’s congregation.  I acknowledge that there are some who wish for acceptance of other traditions and of new ideas and I trust that we will acknowledge the rights of anyone to believe any of the possible answers to the eternal questions about creation, morality, a spiritual life, etc.   On the other hand, the liturgy is what we do in common and it should express and foster the ideas we have in common of the importance of justice, freedom and acceptance.   We wish to worship our concept of God in the company of like minded people and in a form which avoids the repetition of meaningless prayers.  The form which has been chosen has been used for long enough to have become a tradition and this form has a relevance which makes coming to Mass here a refreshing and enjoyable part of our week.  I believe that, if Andy Hamilton observed our Mass, he would judge that we have a liturgy that ensures that we remain a relevant part of the great heritage of Christianity.

SPEECH ON THE GRAVE OF NAPOLEON BY ROBERT INGERSOLL.

A little while ago I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon, a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity.   I gazed on the sarcophagus of black Egyptian marble and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world.

I saw him walking the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide.  I saw him at the head of the army at Italy.   I saw him conquer the Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags.  I saw him at Marengo, at Ulm, at Austerlitz.  I saw him in Russia, where the infantry of the wild blast and the cavalry of the snow conquered his legions, like winter’s withered leaves.

I saw him banished to Elba.   I saw him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius.  I saw him on the frightful field of Waterloo, where chance and fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king.   And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind his back, gazing out on that sad and solemn sea.

I thought of the orphans and the widows he had made, and of the tears that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him – pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition.

And I said I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes.   I would rather have been THAT man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the dreamless dust than to have been THAT imperial impersonation of force and murder.