Plenary, 23 Jan 2002

Meeting date: Wednesday, January 23, 2002

Official Report 379KB pdf

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Time for Reflection

To lead our time for reflection, we welcome the Right Rev Brian Smith, the Bishop of Edinburgh in the Scottish Episcopal Church.

It might be that poetry is in our minds today because in a couple of days' time it will be Burns night. Today's pause for thought might remind you to pick up a haggis on the way home.

As we know, Burns is often regarded as Scotland's greatest poet. However, as we begin 2002, we might also be conscious that this year is the centenary of the death of William McGonagall, who is regarded by many as the worst poet that ever lived. On his centenary, we might recall that he opened his published works with a poem entitled "An Ode to the Queen on her Jubilee Year".

We thus find ourselves confronted with two popular literary evaluations—one poet is deemed clearly to be good, the other is deemed clearly to be bad. We might wish that all judgments had such clarity to them and that we could make a clear decision in favour of the good and reject the bad.

However, we know that most decisions are not like that. We have to choose between options that seem to be equally good, or between options that seem to be equally disastrous. In such situations, heated discussions arise and conflicting stances are taken.

We recall the tale of the ecclesiastical minister who had a great reputation for effecting reconciliation when marriages ran into difficulty. A young student heard of his effectiveness and asked if he could go along with the minister to see how he did it.

Together they went to see the husband. The minister listened to his side of the story and then said, "You know, you are absolutely right." They then went to see the wife. The minister listened again, thought, and said to her, "You know, you are absolutely right."

They left the house. The student was furious and said, "How could you do that? You said he was right and then you said she was right. They can't both be right." The minister thought for a moment and then said carefully to the student, "You know, you are absolutely right."

We face two ways of making evaluations. When we considered our poets, we judged quickly that one was good and one was bad, and we moved on to arrange a Burns supper rather than one for McGonagall.

When our minister faced his couple, he sought carefully to find and affirm good in each of two positions that some would see as irreconcilable. Consistency could wait and come later. Reconciliation was the minister's number one priority.

There are two ways in which we could be led. We might want to ask which is the one that we should most often seek to follow. Perhaps the problem is that, unfortunately, both approaches are absolutely right.

It is our privilege to be able to use both. We need the skills for both. Thus it is within the Christian tradition that we hold on to a belief that God the father and God the son, mysteriously, are one.