‘The Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart’. 1 Samuel 16:7

These words are the prelude to the strange choice of David, the shepherd lad, who turns out to be the one to lead Israel. And what a leader he turns out to be. David might not be everybody’s cup of tea. He was a man of suspect morals even though the Lord’s favour was upon him. But he is also supposed to have written many of the psalms that still comfort and inspire people today and he is one of history’s greatest characters. When Samuel comes calling on the household of Jesse to find a new king to replace the discredited Saul, David, the youngest son, is not deemed a likely enough candidate even to appear on the shortlist. He is left out in the fields to attend to the sheep whilst Samuel passes before David’s brothers waiting for the spiritual nudge that will lead him to the one he is sure God wants him to anoint as king. This story is an archetype. Like so many key moments in the Biblical narrative a universal truth is revealed in a particular situation. This is a moment when we see the truth that God’s ways are not as our ways. We are reminded that however we might take the world, the chances are that the Divine nature has a different take on it. The God whom this story reveals is a God of surprises. Just when we thought we knew and we understood and ‘had Him sussed’, we are taken to new places, surprising insights and different perspectives. This is why a life of true and genuine faith could never be described as dull, predictable or settled; there is always newness around the corner, something deeper to grasp, something lying beyond our preconceived ideas and settled certitudes. When Jesus points out the mustard seed, he is saying much the same thing. Who would have believed that this tiny seed could produce this great shrub in which many birds find shelter from the midday sun and a place to make their nest? Prepare to be surprised! So often, our idea of God is the end product of our human seeking, as someone put it, ‘a stupendous construction of human thought’. For this reason I have always felt that we should be sparing, reluctant even, in our use of the divine name. The Hebrews after all did not utter the divine name at all, instead they used the term ‘yahweh’ which means, ‘I am who I am’. Edwin Muir once described the word ‘God’ in the mouth of a stern Calvinist

The Living Word, or Angry Letters?

preacher as ‘three angry letters in a book’ See there king Calvin with his iron pen, And God three angry letters in a book, And there the logical hook On which the mystery is impaled and bent Into an ideological instrument. (The Incarnate One; from the Collected Poems of Edwin Muir, Faber & Faber 1979). We should be sparing in our use of the divine name because the more we use it the more likely it is that we end up with an idea of God created in our own image. As one of our professors told us when we were graduating, some with Master of Divinity degrees, ‘some of you have come out with this degree, Master of Divinity, but let me tell you, you will be no use as a minister until divinity masters you!’ This divine nature who takes the world differently, who constantly surprises, unsettles and undermines our comfortable certainties can only really be known in his giving of himself, in a manner of his own choosing. And this is often so quirky, so surprising and unsettling that we frequently either do not notice or refuse to believe.
RS Thomas speaks of this when he writes, As I had always known He would come, unannounced, Remarkable merely for the absence Of clamour. So truth must appear To the thinker; at a stage Of the experiment, the answer Must quietly emerge. I looked At him, not with the eye Only, but with the whole Of my being, overflowing with Him as a chalice would With the sea.
(Suddenly; from Frequencies, by RS Thomas, Macmillan 1978).

• The end of all our exploring and searching and hunting down some encounter with the divine nature is to discover that we are ultimately found, invaded, overwhelmed, mastered, wooed and overtaken by a divine initiative towards us. As Thomas put it elsewhere, we look up to heaven and have to shield our eyes from heaven’s glare and what we encounter is the ‘ubiquity of a vast concern’, so vast that no formula, no clever dogma, no orthodoxy can ever sum up or capture that elusive, fleet and subversive divine essence that is everywhere and nowhere and always at least one step ahead of our categories or doctrines. What I am trying to say is that the ways of God challenge our spiritual myopia and we should always be ready to put to one side our limited insights and be ready to be remade. So often we see without really looking, we hear without truly listening and we know without really understanding. What has brought us here today is not just our own idea, it is a divine initiative. The great American eco-theologian, Matthew Fox once described his struggle to convince urban Christians of the relevance of his creation centred spirituality. He was discussing his ideas with a New York based journalist who challenged him about his ideas. She wanted to know how people who lived in a vast city could pause to delight in the natural world and even if they could what possible relevance would that have to the life of the city. He asked the journalist to look out of the window and tell him what she saw. ‘Bricks’, was her answer, and he replied, what are bricks, just clay hoisted hundreds of feet in the air by humans, supported by frameworks of steel mined from the earth? With cars below, turning on rubber tyres made from the sap of trees, burning fuel distilled from the residue of dead plants from millions of years ago. ‘A city’ he said, ‘is an awesome place as it is, it is also the earth, recycled by humans, who themselves are earth, standing on two legs, with moveable thumbs and immense imaginations’. Only connect, only truly look and discern and you will be surprised and astonished by the miraculous every day. You will be surprised by the homeless man, who, given the chance and the encouragement can turn out to be a very skilled craftsman. You will be surprised by the person who carries all the marks of life upon them and has known loss and pain and hurt or loneliness, whom it would be so easy to dismiss or overlook, but who turns out to be just the sort of person we need to listen to because in this confused and misguided world someone like that can remind us what really matters in life. Things like love and appreciation, a sense of belonging and dignity, someone to care for us and listen to us are all have far more worth that fast cars and big bonuses. And it is so often the most unlikely people who have the most to say to us, ‘the empty handed stranger can be the bearer of the most priceless gifts’. And in the midst of our seeing and not seeing, our half remembered existence, there is this brooding divine nature, stalking the earth ready to invade, to surprise, to renew beyond our imagining or expectation. That presence is there to transform inconspicuous, unpromising things and circumstances and people, like a shepherd lad or a mustard seed into some ‘vast conclusion’. This is resurrection faith, this is the promise of newness from the horrors of Good Friday, this is the nub of the Christian message. And this is not our work or even our project. This is the work of the divine nature intruding into the life of the world. Open your eyes, look and see! Amen.

Richard Frazer

On Thursday night, the 11th of June, a bus party left from Greyfriars to head up the road to see the ordination into the ministry of Jane Blackley, who finished her 15 month probation with us last year. While she was applying for posts she helped in a few services and also carried on some of the pastoral work with us as well, so we got to hold onto her a wee bit longer.

In her time with us, Jane became a much beloved worship leader and friend. From my own personal experience, I was always amazed by how she remembered people and their lives, checking up after important dates, recalling worries and generally being very supportive, without ever being pushy. She was involved in all aspects of the church, most of which went on entirely out of my notice. One thing that was very precious to me were the meals that organised for the students in Greyfriars, where general fun and nutritious food (she struggled not to be a mother to us all) were the priority. Elsewhere in her Greyfriars life there were many stories, one particular favourite story of mine was the day she presided over a memorial service for Greyfriars Bobby. Fifty dogs versus one probationer. It was a drawn match.

So, in support of our friend, we tootled up the road, reading, chatting and snoozing all the way to Brechin,

Brechin Gardner Memorial Church

encountering in a roadside cafe a bus party from one of the earlier churches where Jane did her training. (Our bus was better). Jane was called to be minister of two congregations, Brechin Gardner Memorial and Farnell churches, the former in the town, the latter in the countryside. The induction service was in the larger Gardner church, which is a beautiful Art Nouveau-esque building in red sandstone with a serene garden, almost like a Cloister (wonderfully unpresbyterian). The rain had been on and off (the locals were worried for the Angus Show which was already set up for this weekend) but by the time we got there it was clear and sunny, with the light falling quietly in the sanctuary.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been at an ordination service, but they are, like weddings, generally lovely. There are lots of official things which must be carried out – edicts read, papers signed – but by far the most affecting thing is the ordination itself, which is performed with prayer and the laying on of hands. All the members of presbytery (for a wee introduction to the structure of the Church of Scotland, have a look here) gather round and place their hand on the person who is going to be ordained. Those who can’t reach (I love this bit) often touch someone who is touching the minister elect, so that they form this huge mass of folk all hoping for good things and blessings on one person. Then there is shaking hands, hugging, singing, and what not. After the service everyone troops out past the minister, chatting and congratulating, and maybe greetin a wee bit, and then food. The food part deserves a special mention to the ladies of Brechin Gardner Memorial. What. A. Spread.

It is, undoubtedly, a special time and a special service. And those performing the service stressed the fact that it did not mark the end of the journey – it is after all, the end of the minister’s training, and the (possibly very long) vacancy period in the church or churches involved – rather it is the beginning of a marathon. However, and Jane chatted about this in the days before the event, we mustn’t raise this ordination so far far above the ordination that Jane already undertook – ordination to the Eldership. As the very useful wikipedia entry on Ministers and elders reminds us, the minister is theologically understood as an elder with a special task – not above or superior to the rest of the Session (all the elders, including the minister, of a church) and, crucially, not the sole worker one responsible for what happens in that church.

Beyond the eldership, there is a very present sense in which all those who follow Jesus are ordained to ministry, a fact which is often stressed as such occasions, but nevertheless must be reiterated. The secondary definition of ‘Ordain’ is ‘To order by virtue of superior authority,’ there are few more superior authorities than the words of Jesus:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12: 30-31)

We are ordained, or ‘called’, to love, as simple as that. Jane is called to love those in her congregations and her community as their minister of word and sacrament, but she is still called to love all people, as she has done for all of her life lived before that moment of the laying on of hands. That call is for us too.

Ishbel McFarlane

Here are some more thoughts from our minister. To read more of his ponderings look at his blog.

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Spring in the Kirkyard, as captured by http://www.silentinfinite.com

There is a part of psalm 103 that haunts me, “the days of a mortal are as grass; he blossoms like a wild flower in the meadow; a wind passes over him and he is gone, and his place knows him no more”. When I was minister at St Machar’s Cathedral in Old Aberdeen, the churchyard there was cluttered with memorials to the many thousand of dead who lay all around. Greyfriars Kirkyard is sparse by comparison and yet I have been told that there are tens of thousands buried there, “and their place knows them no more”. So many people with stories to their lives but no memorial. Let me introduce you to three little known John’s all of whom are buried in our Kirkyard and until recently have had no memorial. The first John is John Hope. He came from an illustrious family of 18th century Edinburgh. John’s interests were not however so focussed in the law or medicine as so many of the great and the good of the city. Instead, he became fascinated by the natural world and devoted his life to the study of botany and the preservation of what people nowadays would call, bio-diversity. He founded the first Botanical Garden in Edinburgh, where Haddington Place is now and became the Botanist Royal. He was, I suppose, a pioneer of the need that we now see as so vital to assuring the viability of life on earth, which is respect for and the preservation of the earth’s natural riches. But he wasn’t a successful lawyer or medical man and maybe that is why no memorial existed until last year when a small group got

The father of economics, Adam Smith, as depicted by John Kay

together enough funds to erect a stone on the Flodden Wall adjacent to his family burial ground. It was a privilege to be associated with the dedication of that memorial to an almost forgotten man, who, it turns out, is a great inspiration to us all. If you’d like to read more about John Hope there is a booklet about him for sale in Greyfriars

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The second John is John Kay. He was a barber and caricaturist whose many drawings of Edinburgh worthies poke fun at the great and the good in a way that is not cruel but gently bursts their bubbles. Once again, a group of people gathered funds to erect a memorial and on a wet November day in 2005 the stone to remember John Kay was finally dedicated. This is part of what Alexander McCall Smith said at the dedication ceremony. “So, John, we have not forgotten you. Forgive us for being so late in erecting this monument. But you, I suspect, must have been a forgiving man at heart. For you knew all the foibles of the kenspeckle citizens of this town, and you drew those so lovingly. You showed us them who were; today you show us who we still are. You remind us that we are each members of each other; that there is great good in being part of a community; that each of us, the highest in the land and the lowest, has its part, has her part, and that part is of equal importance, and equally worthy of the artist’s loving depiction”.

The third of our trinity of John’s is John Gray, the master of Greyfriars Bobby. This obscure policeman whose task it

An image of Greyfriars Bobby from about 1865

was to keep order amongst the crowds of traders and hordes of livestock that descended on the Grassmarket on market day died and his dog guarded his grave for 14 years after his death. John Gray inspired astonishing devotion from Bobby. A film was released in 2005 about this eponymous dog, whose name has become so associated with our Kirk. Because of these stories unsung heroes have begun to intrigue me. Is it true that their place knows them no more? The great and the good have their memorials and they are there for all to see in our Kirkyard. So many other less grand people have stories that need to be told too. In the retelling the world becomes a richer place and we see, as Professor McCall Smith rightly says, all from the highest to the lowest have their part to play in the rich weave of our communal life.

The partner churches from the air, courtesy of Google Maps.

Here’s a wee bit from our minister at Greyfriars about the partnership between other churches of different denominations.  For some more information have a look at this page of our website.

Ecumenical News from Greyfriars, Tolbooth & Highland Kirk

The Local Church (TLC) is the name we give to our ecumenical partnership in the centre of Edinburgh’s Old Town. We continue to strengthen the three churches’ Covenant established seven years ago between St Columba’s by the Castle Episcopal Church and Augustine United Reformed Church and Greyfriars, Tolbooth & Highland Kirk.

Over the years we have created more than 300 volunteering opportunities at Greyfriars. These involve everything from stewarding at concerts, welcoming visitors, working on the Greyfriars Herb Garden in the Kirkyard and social outreach to people with experience of homelessness. We could not do all we do without the great support of our ecumenical partners and people from further afield.

Our social outreach to homeless and marginalised people brings together volunteers from all branches of the church and some with no church connection. The great strength of our activity is that people with widely different theological opinions come together in a shared ministry of service to some of our most vulnerable citizens.

We provide well over 500 meals per week for the homeless and others in need. We offer opportunities to work in the Herb Garden, volunteer in our Grassroots classroom, where people do arts and crafts work and learn new skills, or volunteer in our woodwork social enterprise where former church pews are turned into beautiful pieces of furniture for sale. The enterprise is called GRoW (Greyfriars Recycling of Wood).

There are over 200 people using our service on a regular basis. There are over 150 volunteers engaged in providing these social services. This means that we serve in the region of 30,000 free meals in the course of a year and provide as many as 15,000 hours of volunteering opportunities in this community service alone each year.

All the time we are developing new opportunities for people to learn skills and enjoy success through the Greyfriars Community Project that is situated in the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh. Very soon we hope to begin weaving cloth on our own full sized loom and are about to establish a knitting, mending and sewing group to encourage people to reject our throw away culture and mend and make their own clothing once more.

The Greyfriars Community Project is just one aspect of the life of the wider Greyfriars community in which people with multiple needs are cherished and supported and given educational and training opportunities. None of this work could be undertaken without the support of our ecumenical partners. So, whilst people speak gloomily about the state of the ecumenical movement at an institutional level, at the grassroots, where the work of caring for “the least of these” is undertaken, ecumenism is thriving.

Richard Frazer        May 2009

This is the new blog of Greyfrairs Kirk, Edinburgh. Here we will be posting about things we have been doing, things we have been thinking and things we have been liking as we live our lives here in Edinburgh as a worshiping community, an arts community and a serving community in Scotland’s capital.

We live our community life here by Jesus’ words ” I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10)