Plenary,

Meeting date: Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Official Report 362KB pdf

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Time for Reflection

Good afternoon. The first item of business this afternoon—as it is every Wednesday afternoon—is time for reflection. Our time for reflection leader today is the Rev Dr George Whyte, minister of Colinton, Edinburgh.

Thank you for inviting me to speak today.

I serve the parish of Colinton, which was founded in 1095. Near the rear door of the present church building, there is a list of people who have done my job over the years. There are four and a half centuries of Catholic priests and then an assortment of Episcopalians and Presbyterians. From 1690, there is an unbroken succession of ministers of the Church of Scotland. The year in which the person arrived and the year in which they left is beside each name on the list. As the Kirk has only recently acquired a pension scheme, most of them left in a wooden box or, as the board more delicately says,

"died when minister of the parish".

My name is at the bottom of the list, with the year of my induction—1992—and then a space that is to be filled in when I am gone. I hope that the sign-writer does not get away with simply putting dittos below the earlier entries.

Each Sunday morning as I wait to begin the service, there is a reminder in gilt lettering of the passing nature of my involvement with an institution that was there long before I was and—God willing—will be there long after I have gone. Perhaps some of you who are gathered here understand the mixed emotions that such thoughts bring.

I am glad that a list of my predecessors is set where I have to see it. In one way, it invokes humility. I am a fleeting part of the Colinton story, and Colinton is just a little bit of the bigger city. In turn, that city is just a little bit of a bigger nation, which is just a little bit of the bigger world. The list also reminds me of the importance of standing in line and playing my part in my day, which is how the fabric of community is woven across the years.

The writer of Psalm 103 wrestled with the same sense of his mortality and significance. He says:

"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."

The writer adds:

"But the Lord's love is forever".

That is a good thought to retain when you know that the sign-writer is poised grimly in the wings.