The Church's Dedication - Dr Brutus Green

The church must be forever building, for it is forever decaying within and attacked from without.

Words by TS Eliot that are always on my mind. At the first church I served in, the vicar, introducing the parish, told me, “we lose a third of the congregation every year, as people leave central London. That means, just to stay still, you need to grow the congregation by a third each and every year.” Putney is more stable, but judging by Oberon’s class, which has dropped from a reception of 30 to just 18 kids in year 2, Putney is not without transience.

There’s a wider question here, as well, about what it is to change and what it is to stay the same. Another line that sticks in my head is poetry by Erich Fried graffitied on the Berlin Wall: “Whoever wishes that the world remain as it is, Does not wish that it remains.”

Words that in the wake of faith-based killings this week, gentle teasing of air-space over NATO countries, the devastation of Gaza; incredible – I use that word advisedly – incredible world leaders, and our charming party conferences, several of which now characterise the climate crisis as something for other people to worry about– One does wonder: will it remain? That’s not a reference to 2016.

But happily change is the one constant: Heracleitus, the philosopher of change, famously said “you can’t step into the same river twice” This is particularly true of the river Severn because its extensive sewage discharges make it very difficult to get close to. A more hidden aspect of Heracleitus’ comment lies in the ‘you’ – You can’t step into a river twice. Because not only is the river in a constant state of change, so are you.

Herbie will shortly discover this – baptism is an immersion in a living stream of water; but you only get baptised once because there is also a strange unity to each of us. Despite change, despite every cell in our bodies being different to what was when we were seven, we are the same person. And so you only need one baptism. But as the 1997 Disney remake of the “The Love Bug” demonstrates the same can also be different, and in this case more of a sequel, and not the excellent and beloved sequel of 1974: “Herbie Rides Again.”

I feel that Herbie is going to have a lifetime of Herbie film references. Who could resist as he climbs on to his bike again, piping up: “Herbie rides again!” If the waters of baptism are upsetting, surely someone will mutter in the congregation: “Uh-oh, Herbie goes Bananas” I can say this as someone who’s had a lifetime of people saying to me, as if for the first time, with a friendly wink: “Et tu Brute!” And I haven’t even stabbed anyone. Yet.

After 153 years as a Christian church, and 113 years as a Church of England, to the very day – October 5^th, 2 days after international Mean Girls day, We celebrate our dedication. (Our first hymn was also the opening hymn On October 5^th 1912.)

But there have been some changes to St Margaret’s. We have surprisingly frequent visitors who were married here and sometimes baptised. The marriages go back to the 60s, the baptisms sometimes further. I’m often struck by how they usually feel that nothing has changed. I’m tempted to probe this a little, question if they remember the organ in that position; If there were once pews; (I don’t know, were there?) Was there a parish centre attached? But it seems better to allow St Margaret’s to be a fixed unchanging point in their imagination. Historic churches, like ours, are constantly running that line between conservation – protecting what is special – and transformation – discovering opportunities and restoring what has run down. The latter can go too far (like when you feel the church is an outhouse to the café), but far more common is a reluctance to address problems and expand what you’re doing. The church is here to serve its parish, not the other way around.

An institution needs to be able to recognise when change is required. That’s surely the case with the nomination of a first female Archbishop of Canterbury. It’s a sort of temple cleansing for feminism. A sign of the Church of England’s malaise is that this news only made it to page nine of the Times – The money changers have moved on. Two letters addressed the subject, one of which was a recruitment notice for Conservatives to join the Roman Catholic Church. (Though that may tell you more about the editor and owner of the Times.) Happily, though the Times was not neglectful of the nation’s religion, including yesterday a piece on the top ten television vicars. Good to see some quality investigatory journalism, though only one female priest made the list, and that at number eight for the vicar of Dibley. It’s still a man’s world.

But when I look around this church I see the impact of people on its shape. There’s plenty of Mark Steward in physical objects on show, as once you would have seen Ted’s work; and just as you can see Sue’s hand in the garden. I can see Deborah’s flower-team’s efforts each week in the church. I know who organised money for the organ, for the kitchen; I can see the cleaning efforts of Sarah Witney and the chairs put out by Taiwo. I know which family paid for the sound system and streaming, and who provided the choir robes. If you look closely you can see who sponsored our processional cross, and around the building are names of those throughout the generations have donated time and resources, even the church itself back in 1912. We are in these weeks celebrating our regular giving, and it’s regular giving that has kept the roof on and the walls upright.

St Margaret’s is a building and in its blunt physicality it can feel unyielding, but it too is a river we are passing through, changing as it seeks to change us. As vicar it gets into your bones. I feel like this building is part of me. I have climbed to fix the bell at the top of the tower (don’t tell my wife), And I have crawled through the 2’ square tunnel in the crypt that runs through the building. I stood with John Marston who was nearly 90 above the East Window lamenting the dry rot. He was a fine man who made an indelible mark here. When the hearing loop – a thin wire running around the building – broke a few weeks ago, I instantly knew where, because the little differences leap out at you when you spend most of your life here. It’s a little strange meeting your predecessors, knowing this feeling, but it made me very happy that both Ann Brodie and Bill Warren, the last two vicars, were delighted with all the work that’s happened since their time.

The congregation itself is also a river, ever changing. I worry and pray about our elders. Most of you will not have noticed Gordon Jones here last week at the 10am with a young relative. I was so delighted to see him – he is 94 I believe, and a member of St Margaret’s for ever so long.

At the other end of the spectrum we have Herbie here today. Ready to wrestle with theological truths and ontological imperatives. Putney touches on an important bit of river, but the river stretches across the world and time. The river is wide. You don’t step into the same river twice, and the river changes you. And you also have to change to stay what you are.

To be the church in this parish we have to adapt to what is required of us today. St Margaret’s is quite different to what it was ten years ago. In ten years time who knows what it will have become. But it has grown and evolved these last 113 years, decaying within, attacked from without; It has seen Archbishops and vicars come and go, Curates and directors of music. It’s walls are more flexible than they look and though they change its people pass on a consistent Gospel of good news in this place. As we welcome Herbie to share in this faith, let us reflect on the river which he enters, this building, this community, this church, worldwide and historic, Fluid, dynamic but still one river springing up to eternal life. Amen.