Thank you for your welcome. It is lovely to be here once again.
It is over 25 years since I last stood on this spot to give a sermon. Jane, Felicity and I moved from the Priory in May 1985, just before the 900th anniversary celebrations were to begin, and it is great to be back here in time to partake in the 925th anniversary celebrations.
Today is also the 28th anniversary of my Ordination as a Deacon. My ordination took place in Worcester Cathedral in the morning of that day and in the evening I made my first public appearance here at the Priory at the Evensong service 28 years ago tonight. At the end of that service, one of the older members of the Priory congregation, Mrs Abel, who used to live near Barnards Green, I think , came up to me as I stood beside Canon Bill Richards, the Vicar, at the church door, and she said to me "either you or the Vicar will have to grow a beard. We can't tell the difference between you". - I was too slow - and too new- to respond by saying "Oh, I'm the good-looking one", - but then perhaps Bill would have said the same thing! - Neither of us did grow a beard in due course!
Another memory of that day was when the procession of clergy came to a halt at the end of the Ordination service in the Cathedral that morning. A middle-aged clergyman came across to me and asked "Are you Clive Mansell?" - "Yes" I replied. "You are playing cricket for the Diocese a week on Monday - and if your Vicar objects, then I will object to your ordination." - Thus began my ordained ministry in the Church of England, and, oh, - Bill Richards did not object and I did play cricket on the appointed day.
The Priory was a good place to be a Curate!
It is very good to see faces in the congregation tonight of those whom we first came to know during my curacy here in 1982 to 1985. We are deeply grateful to God, to Bill Richards, and to others of you for all which that period came to mean to us in our personal and family lives and in the development of my ministry. Of course, we have continued to keep in touch here over the years since then because Peggy Sellers, my mother-in-law, has lived here and we have visited her.
Over all those years we have continued to receive details of the Friends' work and I want to begin tonight by saying first of all, a big thank you to all those of you who play an active part in the Friends of Malvern Priory. I want to return to the theme of what you are doing through your work in a moment, but I would, first of all, draw attention to that lovely Old Testament Bible passage which we heard this evening. It is perhaps one of the most famous love stories in all of the Scriptures.
Jacob - rebellious, deceitful Jacob - has left home and goes far away to where his family once came from. He goes to search for a wife. Almost before he arrives at his destination he encounters Rachel, to whom he is related. He falls in love with her and in due time he marries her - for those of you who know the story, you will recall that things are not quite as straightforward as that, but we will bypass those other features of the story for the moment. - At the end of the Bible passage we had this evening comes one of the most beautiful statements in all the Old Testament. Jacob offers to work 7 years to win Rachel's hand in marriage and he fulfils his offer, and the Scripture says "Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her". - "They seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her".
Many people here in the Priory and, indeed, many people in the Friends work very hard, - and have worked very hard across the years, - to do things for the Priory building and for the life and ministry of the Priory and they do such service out of a great love. Love does inspire us to do great things and, I suspect, for a good number of you, all the efforts which you have put in seem "but a few - because of the great love which you have for this place and for what this place represents".
Thank you then for all that you do and for the love which is wrapped up in what you do.
When both Basil Dewing, the Chairman of the Friends, and John Barr, your Vicar, got in touch with me about choosing the Readings for this evening, for some reason into my mind flew the passage which we had for our New Testament Reading, the passage most famously known as "The Parable of the Prodigal Son". Perhaps it came to mind because I felt that there was something of me returning here after a long time away. - I don't think that I have been like the Prodigal Son really. Certainly, I have not spent lots of the Priory's money in my going away over the last 25 years and I can promise you that I have not spent the last 25 years in "riotous/dissolute" living. - If I had, I wonder if you would have had me back!
Nevertheless, your kind invitation to me to come tonight did feel like something of making a return, a coming back home.
I remember the chaplain at my school, when I was a teenager, taking an assembly and declaring that this parable was "The greatest short story ever told". It is, of course, a wonderful short story. It is filled with resonances which we can all recognise:- teenage tensions, greed and impatience, rebellion and family tension and, indeed, family love. Sadly, we are also aware of those who, as it were, go off the rails and then find that in some way or another their life comes crashing down around them. Nothing so vividly portrays that in this story by Jesus than the detail of the prodigal son looking after a herd of pigs and, worse still, even eating the food of the pigs. What greater sign of degradation could there be for any Jewish man? Could that son ever have dreamt in those heady days when he first sought his share of the family wealth and then went off and spent it like there was no tomorrow, - could he ever have dreamt that one day he would find himself living with pigs and feeding off the food of pigs? - Surely not.
Of course, you know what happens next. The young man comes to his senses and seeks to return home with the intention of becoming a worker on his father's estate. He could be a worker, but he knew that he could never be his father's son any more, - not after what he had done.
And then comes the most heart-warming episode in the story. The boy's father sees him coming. He is filled with compassion and rushes out to meet the son. He puts his arms around him and kisses him. What is more, he calls for his best robes, his ring and sandals to be put on the boy, - for he says "This son of mine was dead and is alive again. He was lost and is found." And so they begin to celebrate.
I want to break off from that famous story at that point and not to get involved with the 2 characters in the story who were not pleased to see the return of the prodigal son. The first of those characters, of course was the fatted calf, and the other was the older brother.
An alternative title for that famous story is "The Parable of the Waiting Father". I find that an immensely moving title. It helps to conjure up the image of the man, who would have been my age or older, waiting, waiting, waiting to see his son return - and when you see the father's response to the son, you can begin to see why the son was drawn back to the father's home. - It was a place where love and goodness resided.
Rembrandt's famous picture of the Return of the Prodigal has the son on his knees, nestling into his father and his father's firm hands resting upon him, making him feel totally safe, totally restored.
Why ponder this famous story once more and, in particular, why ponder this story tonight at this service?
Because, in a way, I think this church, this famous Priory Church, is a bit like the home of the waiting father. It is a place from which people can go out and a place to which they can return. It is a place where transformation can occur - and what you do to beautify this building and to enrich the different dimensions of what is found here can help to make this place, in some measure, "a home" for different people on their spiritual journeys.
The story of my coming to be here as a Curate began some years before I was ordained, when I visited this part of Worcestershire to stay with some friends. One day, we came across to the Priory. I remember little about that visit, except that I was impressed. Then in 1981, Jane and I came here to Malvern for the morning and afternoon on the Saturday of a weekend house party for the church in Bristol where we worshipped. At the end of the afternoon, I said to Jane, "I'd like to show you the Priory here in Malvern. I have been there once before and it is a beautiful place." So it was we came down to this Priory late on the Saturday afternoon. The Priory was still open. The choir stalls were cleared away and there was a platform on which stood a vine. We came into the building and wandered around and stood looking at the vine and then there came along a man who spoke to us. It turned out to be the then Vicar, Bill Richards. He was not wearing his dog-collar at the time. We introduced ourselves and spoke and, in the course of that conversation, he said the fateful words, "If you know of anyone looking for a curacy for this time next year, you might like to let them know we will probably have a place here because my curate is due to move." - To which, I in turn, replied the fateful words "There is me. I am looking for a curacy this time next year." So the story of my calling changed.
And, I suspect, that I am not the only one, amongst the many people who have come here, who have found it a place where God can meet them and change their story.
I find this a remarkable place with its sense of light and space, its architecture and its wonderful stained-glass windows, its combination of a long history and a very contemporary vitality, its blend of transcendence and welcome, its mixture of the traditional and of more flexible informal ways, both within its services of worship and within the wider ministry and mission which it offers.
People come here as tourists, as I did, first of all. They wander in, curious to see what is here, but often, I guess, they go away finding rather more than they expected.
It is such a special place, and all that you can do to make this a place where someone entering here can find a warm, welcoming, embracing, inspiring, uplifting and affirming experience is a marvellous contribution to ministry and mission in our modern society.
This place is where someone can come in, having been long away from church life or Christian worship or even any semblance of Christian belief, and yet they can be touched by the atmosphere, the craftsmanship, yes, even the love and affection which people have for this building and, of course, for the Lord whose Gospel it proclaims. They can come here from all the wandering or troubles of their prodigal past and they can find a place where the atmosphere is welcoming. It is even a place waiting for them to come.
For some, the encounter here will be a temporary one and then they will go on their way, - but the memory of the place will linger, - as such a memory lingered for me in some measure following my first visit here.
For others, - especially if they live more locally, - coming here can lead them to staying here in some measure, to returning again and again, whether week by week or less regularly, or just occasionally, but with a sense of constancy.
This is a place where people can find something and, indeed, someone waiting for them. It can offer a ministry and a mission to those who may have little notion that they want to be in receipt of Christian ministry or mission.
In a society which is less now familiar with Christian things, this church can yet catch people's attention and speak to them like the combination of the vine and the Vicar spoke to us when we came here on that Saturday afternoon long ago.
This building, this Priory church, always speaks of something and of someone greater than ourselves.
One of the great joys of my ministry at the Priory was the involvement with Malvern Girls College and the school then known as Lawnside School. I found myself assisting Bill Richards in his chaplaincy work at MGC and I became Chaplain at Lawnside. I have to say that the prospect of undertaking confirmation and other chaplaincy work at a boarding schools for teenage girls was terrifying - but, in fact, it became one of the most enjoyable and exhilarating parts of ministry here. We came to know a good number of the girls and much enjoyed their friendship. Preparing them for confirmation was a huge privilege and I often wonder how many of those one-time school girls have made a return here as grown women at some point in their lives and come once more in this building and found here a an echo of Christian worship being evoked in their minds, even if they have not sustained that Christian discipleship as much in the years since then as, perhaps, their confirmation hoped. This is a place where such memories can be stirred. For such former school students it was once a spiritual home and it can still be a spiritual home to which they can return.
I was reading recently a book entitled "The Rage Against God" by the journalist Peter Hitchens. He describes amongst other things his own rebellion against Christian things. - He tore up and burnt his Bible in front of his 17-year old contemporaries at school. He set off on his angry journey, his journey of rage and then, in due course, he found himself being drawn back to faith, gradually, himself walking the journey of the Prodigal Son - to find his Heavenly Father waiting for him. He argues in most passionate ways how he sees this nation losing contact with its Christian heritage and its spiritual foundations, running after dissolute ways with a loss of values and a loss of belief into consumerism or political ideology, and he longs to find the nation making its return to its Heavenly Father and to the foundations of Christian faith and life. Of course, he is not alone in expressing such views and having such concerns and hopes.
This building is a place which has the capacity for some people to be the turning point in such a journey, evoking memories of the good which once they knew, and prompting in them a change of thought and outlook, - and for others it can be the returning point, - a place where they come and they find themselves at home once more.
You are hugely privileged to be involved with this Priory church, and many other people are hugely privileged that you are involved with this church and that you have lovingly devoted so much time and effort and generosity and prayer and concern and sheer dedication in what you do and offer here.
925 years is a long history of Christian continuity, prayer and service and it is great that this year you can mark that particular anniversary. Being involved in the story of this building is a key part of that 925 year tale and yet more important still is the love which has touched and infused this place with its special quality - love inspired by the love of God for us in Christ, love found in the generosity of spirit which made so many beautiful things here, love which has cared for the place in such a fine way, love which has made stones speak of more than human craftsmanship, love which is being given here and which has probably gone and given far more than any giver of the love realised, - love that made the doing of some tasks across a long time seem not like the efforts of so many years, but like the efforts of just a few days.
I do hope and pray that as the 925 years move into 926 years and way beyond, your efforts can by God's grace, continue to make this place to be somewhere which is a spiritual home, a place in which people can somehow find afresh the embrace of their waiting Heavenly Father, and a place where others can begin to make their journey back to the waiting father of their heavenly home.
I hope and pray that the work of the Friends will continue to flourish and that all that you do will in different ways serve to help many other individuals on their spiritual journeys home.
May God bless the Friends of the Priory and all the people of this place in this anniversary year and on into the future.
Clive Mansell
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