From the Vicar - this month's magazine letter

Holy Bits and Pieces

We came down from the mountains hot and weary and as we passed the Church there was a very smart hearse parked outside, empty. Oh dear, we were on holiday but still life goes on or not, we thought there must be a funeral. Later, we heard a band and looking from the hotel balcony we saw a procession coming from the Church and heading around the narrow streets of the old town.

We finally put two and two together and realised it was celebrating the visit of the relics which had been advertised on telegraph poles in sober black and white, a clear and sober contrast with the dramatic colour posters for the heart throbs performing at various venues. The notices were drawing attention to the visit to Kokkari of the relics of St Nicholas of Bari. A summer tour was in progress and the local Church, under the patronage of the Saint himself was included on the itinerary.

When we went past on our way to eat there was a vigil in progress, but when we popped in the next morning we had missed our chance to see, not what was in the reliquary chest, but to share in some Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox co-operation.

Veneration of the relics of saints is a bit peculiar to most of us and was determinedly outlawed during the Reformation with the destruction of many relics and pilgrimage places; Henry VIII was especially committed to doing away with anything connected with Thomas a Becket for fairly obvious reasons. But there they are in glass boxes big and little in altars and side chapels of continental cathedrals and churches, and great festivals are still held when rarely displayed relics are brought out for special occasions.

At best I guess the bits and pieces inspire devotion and even connect us with the reality of the lives of saints and martyrs; they were flesh and blood like us. But then the difficulties arise of claiming miracles and asserting that the relics are holy things in their own right. We treasure baby curls and odd souvenirs from our own past: things are precious to us, so why not treasure remnants of good people. They did good in their life time, why not now if they are part of the Communion of Saints and stand before the throne of the living God?

In Patras, the tour guide took us to the Cathedral of St Andrew to see the cross on which Andrew was crucified, shaped just like the Scottish flag. Could it be true? I guess it depends how you see it and if you look through eyes trained to see questions then it is very difficult to be convinced that the ancient pieces of wood are what they claim to be. Yet they still remind us of the death of a martyr, a witness whose blood was shed for Christ, it is historical fact, the event took place, and the relic links us with the saint.

St Nicholas was a very kind man who cared for orphans and for galley slaves, raising funds to care for them and to buy their freedom. No wonder he becomes Santa Claus and Father Christmas, and, even more important than loading kids with toys at Christmas and unfortunately their parents with debt, also inspires us with his good and holy example. On yet another holiday in Jordan we sought out an Orthodox church, another St Nicholas, we had seen from the coach. Outside it had a pump up Santa, about eight feet across and six feet high: a solid citizen though full of air and tied to the railings. In no way was this a relic but it was a very good humoured icon, telling a joyful Christian story to a Muslim city.

Keith Brockbank