Good afternoon. The first item of business is time for reflection, and our leader today is the Rev Kenneth MacKenzie, minister of the parish of Braemar and Crathie and domestic chaplain to His Majesty the King.
Presiding Officer, members of the Scottish Parliament, good afternoon.
In a place where rhetoric matters, let me crave your indulgence by asking a question that is not as rhetorical, nor as grammatically correct, as some might prefer. What does it feel like to be prayed for?
I ask that of you who have been elected to the Scottish Parliament, because even in this month of May, in the year of our Lord 2023, when another group of nationwide representatives will assemble, as you first did, in a historic hall just up this street, I cannot think of another Scottish body that will be more often the subject of prayer than this honourable house.
What does it feel like to be prayed for? This is not the first time that I have asked that question, but being by nature and nurture a Highlander, and still identifying as Invernessian, the last time I dropped that question, I reverted to the Queen’s English. In fact, in true Highland style, I did not so much drop the question as drop the question mark.
Two weeks ago, at the door of Crathie kirk, I took the liberty of assuring one of our congregants that on the day of his upcoming coronation he would almost certainly be the most prayed-for person in all of Christendom. Like his mother before him, he seemed rather moved by such a declaration.
In his much-remarked-upon book “Religion for Atheists: A non-believer’s guide to the uses of religion”, Alain de Botton reflects on the fact that in every flourishing culture and society there has always been room for symbolism and ceremony. He, naturally enough, bemoans the fact that in nearly all instances, ceremony and symbolism seem so intrinsically bound to faith and belief.
I—some might suggest naturally enough—am not at all surprised that that should be the case. As we preachers and parliamentarians know only too well, there are times when words—ordinary words—are not enough. In times of trouble or triumph, and on the occasion of appointment or disappointment, words matter, but they are not enough. It is in part through ceremony and symbolism, and in part through prayer, that we mere mortals allow room for mystery and for meaning.
Blessed are those who know what it is to be kept in the prayers of a nation.