Welcoming the new Archbishop

Last week, on the Feast of St Gilbert of Sempringham, founder of the Order of Gilbertines – that’s Monday 4 February to you and me – I was at St Paul’s Cathedral to witness the Archbishop of Canterbury-elect, The Rt Rev Justin Welby, accept the confirmation of his election. The ceremony forms part of the legal process by which the appointment of the new Archbishop of Canterbury is effected. (My spellcheck really didn’t like that last word! But that’s what it said in the Order of Service). Since at least the fourth century it’s been a fundamental principle that confirmation of an episcopal election on behalf of the wider Church is necessary. The election took place in January by the Dean and Canons of Canterbury Cathedral and this service conferred on the new Archbishop ‘the care, government and administration of the spirituals of the bishopric’. All in all a very dry affair!

The last one of these I went to many years ago was for Robert Runcie – last Archbishop but one – and it was done in the crypt of St Paul’s with no frills. Quite frankly, to the onlooker, it was slightly boring! So I was delighted that this occasion was to be different. We had three hymns and lots of prayers. So much better than the old way of doing it. This was Bishop Justin’s idea, I gather.

I must say, the Church of England is good at doing ceremony! The robes, a wonderful assortment of colours of black, purple and red and the choir in their black cassocks and white surplices; the Lord Mayor in his ceremonial attire, complete with chain. The wording used in the service of confirmation has a long history. Before the 18th century it was in Latin, but in about 1733 – happily for us - an English translation was introduced and then Monday’s service took it one step further with a modernised version.

After the greeting from the Archbishop of York there were two readings – from Morning Prayer for that day; Ecclesiastes 7: 1-14 and 2 Timothy 4: 1-8 and then the Sermon from John Sentamu. He started with a lovely joke about some atheists saying that ‘the agnostics in the cathedral were awful’ – instead of acoustics, which went down well.

He then quoted back from Ecclesiastes and wondered whether some people thought this was not relevant today – religious ‘mumbo jumbo’. But he said “this is a book for our time”. We are all searching for meaning. Ecclesiastes had it all – lots of pleasures, but no satisfaction. ‘’Life is not about having but being. It’s not about being on top of the hill or the corporate ladder or winning X Factor”. It is here in simple things and nothing we can buy is as great as what we can give.

He said we lived in “the most self-regarding culture ever. If it works for you – try it and buy it. If not – throw it away and move on to the next thing. Never was the human universe so large yet so small. Never was a culture so written in the first person singular. In the words of the late George Harrison, it’s ‘I, me, mine’. We find everything easy except religion – because that requires thought of others. In an age where only phones are smart, all too few people are wise.”

He ended by saying “he who travels fast, travels alone. But he who travels slowly, travels with others.”

It was then time for the ‘legal bit’. The Archbishop of York and his fellow bishops; Nor-

Don’t unsay with your life what you say with your

tongue. Richard Baxter

Urban Myths Dr Clarence Bass, professor emeritus at Bethel Theological Seminary, early in his ministry preached in a church in Los Angeles. He thought he had done quite well as he stood at the door greeting people as they left the sanctuary. The remarks about his preaching were complimentary. That is, until a little old man commented, “You preached too long.” Dr Bass wasn’t fazed by the remark, especially in light of the many positive comments.

“You didn’t preach loud enough,” came another negative comment; it was from the same little old man.

Dr Bass thought it strange that the man had come through the line twice, but when the same man came through the line a third time and exclaimed, “You used too many big words” —this called for some explanation.

Dr Bass sought out a deacon who stood nearby and asked him, “Do you see that little old man over there? Who is he?”

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” the deacon replied. “All he does is go around and repeat everything he hears.”