St Margaret's Day 2022
St Margaret’s – This Place. And today – St Margaret’s Day. What’s it all about? St Margaret? Let’s be honest – we have very little information about her. She is practically mythical. It’s quite unlikely she was actually eaten by a dragon. And actually there’s quite a lot of prejudice against dragons in the third and fourth centuries, and little evidence of their wrong-doing. We can blame incendiary writers of the twentieth century, like JRR Tolkien for the negative press they’ve received and the hate-speech directed at them by so-called virgins.
Also, no one’s quite sure why this church is dedicated to St Margaret. The best guess is that she’s named after the daughter of the Lord of the Manor, which seems shaky ground for a dedication – Perhaps we should have been named after the dragon but sadly he was martyred by Margaret’s contemporary St George. History after all is written by the victors.
But – do you know – I do like to remember Margaret. Because she was an ordinary girl and even if we know next to nothing about her, Like most great religious persecutions and genocides, we know nothing of the individual lives of the victims, just as we know nothing about the tens of thousands killed this year in Ukraine. History focuses on big figures – prime ministers, presidents, And numbers with at least four zeros after them.
The church, on the other hand, very often remembers people with little consequence and little influence. Margaret is an every-women. Her reward was in heaven not earth. We remember with Margaret, all those lives that matter a great deal to us in this place. John Marston, John Tholstrup, Roger Power and Joyce Brooks, Ann Fell, Jack Miller and Jean Brooker, Delphine Power, Christopher Trott, Elizabeth Miller, Alan Fell, Ralph Bonnett and Elizabeth Worth. These are all familiar names, bright lives seen each week that have fallen since my arrival. There may be many more on your minds.
Although I’ve been ordained 13 years now, I had not before realised what worry you carry as a vicar for those in your care; I promised Humphrey I would repair the railings before he died – That is achieved and I’m very glad he looks as well now as when I arrived. Andrew has always said he advocated my appointment with the person in mind that he would want to take his funeral; I would much rather depart to my next and a third post before such an event could occur. But the business of a parish church is to witness and remember these shifts in the lives of a community.
On Friday I took a funeral, the ninth this year, yesterday we said prayers for the mother of a member of our church on her anniversary of death, then celebrated a lovely wedding, where the mother of the groom had collected photos from 5 weddings of her family here, including one in the early 50s where she had been a bridesmaid at St Margaret’s, in the snow, with a great tree to the right of the church as the halls had not yet been built. There will be two more baptisms and a thanksgiving for baptism in this church in the next month, another joyful wedding, and a memorial service. It’s strange to think on these movements, the inevitable circling of time through seasons, The times and movements of dancing and love, of birth and recreation, of loss and grief.
The anthem to be sung at the beginning of the 10am service is one of my favourites: Locus Iste by Bruckner. Locus Iste – this place. This place, St Margaret’s, where lives pass through and have this enchantment. Where sacraments are celebrated – The Word made flesh, our spiritual food and drink, Marriages, baptisms, Celebrations of live and love, of hope and faithfulness, And of life passing on. And in that moment seeking that which we believe endures: Faith, hope and love.
This place that has seen these movement over nearly 150 years. In the shadow of the growing trees, The walking of dogs along the lane, The playing of children in the garden. It’s a vanity to think you’re doing anything new in a church; Because time in churches is measured with the steady patience of the grandfather clock. This place has seen all this before. It will ride out the joy and excitement; It will wait out the fear and trembling.
In the pandemic it was very a la mode to say that the church is the people. This was quite convenient when no one’s allowed in the building. And it’s true – it’s the people here that matter. But actually in this shifting landscape of births, marriages, deaths, this building, this place, matters and connects us with former generations and generations to come. We will come and go but this place will endure.
The temptation, then, is that we make this place as unchanging as possible. Because it’s nice when it feels like everything’s changing to have something solid. But this place has changed with its people. In the 20s the building doubled in size. In the 40s we caught a little of a nearby bomb and had to replace the glass in the windows. In the 60s they built the halls. In the 90s when John Marston was churchwarden they got rid of one organ and brought in this one. 10 years ago this kitchen was built.
On the Berlin Wall was written: Whoever wishes the world remain as it is, does not wish it remains. Change is an inevitable facet of our world, and our business is to make the changes that meet the needs of our time. But a building is there to serve the people, and we are blessed to have wonderful people with great hearts, a lively faith and soul. So as the shifting generations carry us through the seasons of life, let us come together in this place; Let us remember those who have passed on with St Margaret; And in this place, which has blessed us and continues to bless us with its quiet holiness, in faith, hope and love, we worship the God who is still and still moving, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.