St Margaret’s Day and Sarah Curl’s First Mass

One thing which you may, or may not, know about the Revd Sarah Curl is that she got married in Peppa Pig World. Mummy Pig, being ordained, took the service. Daddy Pig was verger and, like usual, bumbled about stupidly getting everything wrong. Peppa Pig did the intercessions, which as sometimes happens here, went on too long; (Peppa Pig being a bit of a chatter box). And George read “The Lovely Other Dinosaur”, which went down well. That’s not exactly true, except that she did get married in Peppa Pig world, but before it was cool – Now, of course, Sarah has been magnified by the Lord, He hast exalted the humble and meek. Living in the Palais de Manor Fields; She is usually referred to as “The Duchess” in the parish office. Sorry, that’s not entirely true either. She did, however, choose all of today’s hymns, most of which coincidentally only get scheduled when the vicar is on holiday.

But I say all this to remind you that Sarah is human, despite all evidence to the contrary, and not yet a saint, like our dear St Margaret. Having said that, her twin sister told me yesterday that when they were 14, she would be out with her boyfriend at record stores, While Sarah would be taking some “down-and-out” out for a cup of tea or a burger. I was impressed, when I was fourteen I definitely couldn’t get a girlfriend (or a boyfriend, for that matter).  Sarah has continued very much in this vein at St Margaret’s and blessed are you if you’ve been taken out for a “down-and-out” coffee.

I was struck in the ordination service yesterday by how grand and strange the language is. “Priests are called to be shepherds… to be messengers, watchmen (sic) and stewards of the Lord” ‘to watch for the signs of God’s new creation’; They are to preach the word “in season and out of season” – I wasn’t sure – is this a football reference? “They are to resist evil, support the weak, defend the poor, and intercede for all in need. (I wondered at this point if the Bishop had accidentally picked up Keir Starmer’s speech.) They are to minister to the sick and prepare the dying for their death.

And in all this, not one mention of stacking chairs, of organising lunches or running a tombola. Honestly, I wondered if I was in the right place. Still, having read Richard Coles’ recent novels, I’m glad he didn’t say anything about solving murders.

When I was a curate in one of the only training sessions I remember, a priest told us that our job was to work ourselves to death. Slowly. I think he meant it a good way. He seemed very positive about the word “slowly”. But I don’t remember coming away feeling especially encouraged.

But the reality is that the strangeness of the role of the priest is in its contrasts. To lead but to serve To teach, but to be humble, To manage people, but to be holy, To admonish, but to forgive, To be prayerful, to be an activist To be friends with everyone but to be set apart. To be wise as serpents, but innocent as doves.

It might seem that there’s little common ground in singing songs to toddlers, taking a service for a room of people who can no longer hold a conversation, figuring out where you put a handrail on a staircase, running a bible-study, helping at a lunch, going to a diocesan synod, fixing a bell in the tower that’s stopped ringing, writing a book review, taking a funeral, coaxing a pigeon out of church, or blessing a wedding ring or a new home, saying your prayers. There is no end to the range of things a priest is required to do. And all on one day a week. But in all these different things, 95% of which are utterly mundane, there is a common theme: The priest’s role is give meaning to people’s lives. I would use the word ‘sanctifying’ here but it sounds too much like sanctimonious. Crucially, the priest’s role is to help people see the meaning that is in their lives, that they really matter.

So at a baptism, you’re saying that this child isn’t just cute and special to mum and dad; This child is holy, loved by God, of infinite worth, with a share in eternal life. That the love in a family is an echo of the divine infinite love that has brought creation into being. Sometimes, like last week, there’ll be a challenge, perhaps the child will be in a headlock, But as long as the water hits the target it’s tea and medals for everyone afterwards.

At a wedding, you’re saying that this love you share, this community your family has brought together is something that goes beyond the two of you; That there is something meaningful, important – even if eventually it all goes to hell (and the priest is thinking, ‘it’s never gonna last’)– There is still something of enduring significance in these two people coming together, in their short lives. And most of us know how tough being married can be; But we also know from Genesis and from the Spice Girls, that despite the cracks, the two are still one flesh; and sometimes its through the cracks that grace seeps in, as Leonard Cohen sang: “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

At a funeral, you’re saying that this life that has ended mattered. That it had a purpose even if we don’t understand it. That the love that is now broken is not wasted; That this person and this love now lives in God, safe from the harm they have suffered.

But in all the little things, the playgroups, the lunches, the concerts, the visits, the general hanging around that is the day-job of all priests, as a representative of the church, in the priestly role of being Christ for the world, Sarah, as a priest, is saying you matter, you are loved, there is something meaningful happening here, even in the mess of life.

Because, as the ancient hymn says, where love and charity are, their God is. And God, in a way, is a kind of shorthand for saying “meaning” – divine purpose. And if it’s love and charity that create meaning, Divine purpose, or that lovely word ‘providence’, Then community gives meaning, Which is to say it’s our everyday relationships and being alongside each other, and above all the little kindnesses, that we really discover God. Being a priest isn’t about magically making that happen. But it’s about pointing it out to people and using words if you have to.

But the priest’s first duty is to lead the worship of the people. And, as a Christian, this is first of all in celebrating the Eucharist. That’s because the benchmark for everything we do as Christians is the revelation of God’s love in Christ, though his passion and resurrection. If the priest’s job in general is to point to where life has meaning; In the Eucharist it’s to regather us as the body of Christ.

The most poignant moment for me is when the priest breaks the bread. Because it’s not a whole, perfect, united bread in which we come together, But as broken bread in need of healing. And it’s at that moment holding the broken pieces of bread I see myself, my family, Especially when my children rise against me, Or when one’s children choose Hosier over you. In the broken bread I see the thrashing babies, the struggling couples, the missing friends and family, the bereaved, I see the mentally distressed, the Church of England, besieged Ukraine, the warming seas; It is the broken bread we offer to God in remembrance of Christ, in faith, hope and love. And that is the work of the priest.

We’re at a moment of change. Change in our country, perhaps change in the fortunes of English football, certainly change in our curate. When a woman celebrates the Eucharist I think all the angels sing, having been half-muted for nearly two thousand years of hurt. And I like to think St Margaret is cheering, somewhere very far upstairs. More change is needed for this broken church and broken world, but it begins with holding it together in prayer,

So when Sarah comes to break the bread today, let us pray for her, for Michael Curl, for Ted, and all the places we have experienced the brokenness of this world, And let us in faith hold to the meaningfulness of this life, to providence, and the hope that our broken bodies will find resurrection in the love of God. That even Peppa Pig World can become the place of the wedding feast.  Amen.