Gathering to acknowledge the disappearance of Dr Oliver Smith St Salvator’s Chapel

Gathering to acknowledge the
disappearance of Dr Oliver Smith
Thursday 23 May 2013, at 2.30 pm
St Salvator’s Chapel
As people gather: Bach, Goldberg Variations
Welcome and narrative (Donald MacEwan)
Good afternoon, and welcome to this gathering to
acknowledge the disappearance of Dr Oliver Smith,
Lecturer in the School of Modern Languages in the
University of St Andrews. My name is Donald
MacEwan, and I’m the Chaplain to the University.
I welcome members of Oliver’s family, his friends,
colleagues, students and all who have felt it right to
share in this gathering today.
Let me begin by giving an account of what is
known of the circumstances of his disappearance.
Icon of Christ, Glenstal Abbey
Oliver and Shelley, their daughter Thea and
Shelley’s mother Carla were on the Isle of Skye for
a weekend holiday, arriving on Friday 5 April at
Elgol, where they had rented a cottage. Oliver
planned the following day to walk up Bla Bheinn
alone, to go down the North-West face of the
mountain, and return to Elgol via Loch an Athain,
Loch Coruisk and the coastal path. On the Saturday
morning, the family dropped him off at the north
trail head at about 10 am, and he set off alone while
the rest of the family spent the day elsewhere.
While on the hill he texted Shelley twice – first to
say that he was near the top and about to ascend to
the summit; then a second time to say there was too
much snow for him to make the summit, so he
would have his lunch, then descend to the loch.
The family got back to their cottage at about 6
pm, to find that Oliver had not returned. They
waited, then with the help of their neighbour, the
cottage-owner, checked along the roads, and at 9
pm contacted Skye Mountain Rescue.
At first light on the Sunday morning, Mountain
Rescue embarked on an extensive search involving
many people, dogs and a helicopter. The
Coastguard has also taken part in the search. Oliver
has not yet been found. Search efforts continue,
depending on weather conditions and the
availability of Mountain Rescue volunteers. It is
now no longer on the basis of Search and Rescue
operation but a Missing Person enquiry.
Let me also suggest why it was thought appropriate
to hold this gathering. Amongst Oliver’s friends,
colleagues, students and family, there is a sense that
the present situation, so far as it is known and
understood, should be marked. And it seems to be
helpful to the human spirit, both as individuals and
as communities, to meet together to acknowledge
troubling, or even traumatic circumstances. The
evidence points strongly to the conclusion that
Oliver will not return to his family, friends and
colleagues, that he has died in the course of the
walk I described earlier. But we simply cannot
know if that is the case. And so today’s gathering,
first of all acknowledges what we do not have –
we don’t have knowledge of what happened,
we don’t have a straightforward line of thinking
about Oliver – including what tense we should use
in talking of him (and the many linguists here will
be aware of that difficulty),
we don’t know what practical steps we should take;
and we don’t have a clear sense of the future.
And so today’s gathering is not a memorial or
thanksgiving service – which sometimes take place
in this chapel some months following the death of a
member of the university.
But we also gather to acknowledge the importance
of Oliver in our lives, to acknowledge the loss to us
in his disappearance, and to draw strength from our
common humanity, and the bonds of community.
The form of the gathering has to some extent been
guided by Oliver’s own circumstances and deeplyheld convictions. It is taking place in the
University Chapel, across the quad from his office.
It has elements which reflect his deep engagement
with Russian letters, faith and thought. It reflects
his own Christian faith. And there will be people
here who will share Oliver’s faith, for whom it feels
right to gather in the presence of God to express our
feelings – which may be of bewilderment, sorrow,
anger, guilt, or numbness.
Others here today will not share this religious
attitude or any religious approach to life, but I hope
that all will feel that in the space, in the music, in
the readings and in other aspects of our time this
afternoon, there is a language or indeed a silence, in
which we can express our feelings about Oliver’s
loss. And of course, there are some people who are
not here today who also feel deeply about Oliver’s
situation.
I’ll explain most of the elements as we go along,
but a word about one or two things. We heard a
recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations as we
gathered. Oliver has Grade 8 piano, and this piece
is particularly loved by him and Shelley. And I
have reprinted a Russian icon which is in an Irish
abbey, in the order of service. This of course
reflects Oliver’s interest in Russian Orthodox
spirituality, but is also printed as an aid to
meditation to any here.
Following our time in the Chapel, all are welcome
to return to my house at 24 Abbey Street for a cup
of tea or coffee, and to chat to friends, colleagues
and members of Oliver’s family. If you need
directions, simply ask me at the door. But since the
house will be locked till I get there, perhaps wait
and come with me if you don’t know the way. It’s a
5-minute walk. I should mention we have 4 cats…
Psalm 139:1-18, 23-24
A psalm which expresses hope that we are known
and accompanied by God in every circumstance of
life:
1
O LORD, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
3
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O LORD, you know it completely.
2
5
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.
7
Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
8
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
9
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
10
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.
11
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night’,
12
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13
For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
15
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.
17
How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18
I try to count them—they are more than the sand;
I come to the end[a]—I am still with you.
23
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my thoughts.
24
See if there is any wicked[c] way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.[d]
Poem: Solovyev, Do you not see, Beloved?
A poem read at Oliver and Shelley’s wedding
blessing, by the Russian philosopher, theologian
and poet Vladimir Solovyev, about whom Oliver
has thought and written in some detail. Translation
is by R. M. Hewett.
Do you not see, Beloved?
All that about us lies
Is but the shade, the mirrored image
Of things not seen with eyes.
Do you not hear, Beloved?
The sounds that to earth belong
Are but the muffled and broken echo
Of a noble triumph-song.
Do you not feel, Beloved?
Our joy that will not end –
The joy of a silent love-greeting
That friend bestows on friend.
Members of the Renaissance Singers:
Sheppard, In Manus Tuas
The Renaissance Singers have a long association
with Modern Languages in the university, and I am
glad that they are able to share in today’s gathering.
In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum.
Redemisti me Domine, Deus veritatis.
Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.
You have redeemed me, O Lord, O God of truth.
Reading: Mikhail Matusovsky,White Acacia
I’d like to invite Elise Hugueny-Léger to introduce
and read this song….
Lighting of candles
I’d like now to invite all who wish to light a candle,
as a symbol perhaps of hope, for light, and for
strength in the face of the darkness which can
threaten to engulf us. If you wish, simply come and
take a tea-light on the table and light it from the
candles and place it back on the table.
From Romans 8
This reading from the New Testament reflects the
sense we heard earlier in the Psalm that nothing can
separate us from the love of God, and deepens it in
a Christian understanding.
I reckon that the sufferings we now endure
bear no comparison with the glory,
as yet unrevealed,
which is in store for us.
In everything, as we know,
the Spirit co-operates for good
with those who love God
and are called according to his purpose.
If God is on our side, who is against us?
He did not spare his own Son,
but gave him up for us all;
how can he fail to lavish
every other gift upon us?
Who will bring a charge against those
whom God has chosen?
Not God, who acquits!
Who will pronounce judgement?
Not Christ, who died, or rather, rose again;
not Christ, who is at God’s right hand
and pleads our cause!
Then what can separate us
from the love of Christ?
Can affliction or hardship?
Can persecution, hunger, nakedness,
danger, or sword?
For I am convinced
that there is nothing in death or life,
in the realm of spirits or superhuman powers,
in the world as it is or the world as it shall be,
in the forces of the universe,
in heights or depths –
nothing in all creation
that can separate us from the love of God
in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Prayers
I offer some prayers now, and further times of
silence.
Gracious God
we have gathered today in this place of beauty,
where for hundreds of years people have come to
pray, to listen, to be silent, to rejoice and to hope –
to acknowledge Oliver’s disappearance,
to share what we know and what we don’t,
to give voice to what we believe and what we hope,
to acknowledge our fears, our regrets and our mixed
emotions.
We give thanks for all that has been given to us,
even in this traumatic time:
the kindness of strangers,
the courage and perseverance of those who have
been searching,
the presence of family, of friends,
messages of support,
the sense of community.
And we are grateful for such strength that we have
received,
in the midst of fear, guilt, sadness, anger and loss
to find a way through this time,
to continue to live, and work, and care for those
around us,
to be prepared for such news as may come,
and what will follow.
Forgive what needs to be forgiven.
[Silence]
We think now of those who miss Oliver dearly:
Shelley and Thea,
his parents Richard and Gail,
all the family,
his friends, colleagues, students and others:
be ever-present with them,
in whatever they will face,
that they will know they are part of a community of
love,
and that they cannot be separated, ultimately, from
you and from your love.
[Silence]
And now we also pray for Oliver:
it is hard to know what to pray –
in our not knowing –
but we ask that, wherever and however he is, that
he is cared for, that he is in your hands, that he is at
peace.
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen
Thank you:
all involved,
Modern Languages
Alain and Elise
Renaissance Singers; director Claire Luxford
[Silence]
And now a prayer by St Francis of Assisi, spoken
also at Oliver and Shelley’s wedding blessing:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
Benediction