Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?
Someone wrote to me, seemingly perplexed and asking if I am in fact an Anglican Priest, a Vicar, like Canon Sidney Chambers in Grantchester. “No,” is the short answer, but my correspondent wanted the long one: I am an ordained Church of Scotland Minister. That is different from being an Episcopalian Vicar, Rector, Dean or Bishop. And very different from being a Roman Catholic Priest. Well, especially since I am not of the correct gender for that last one. And at present I do not serve in a parochial ministry. And the Church of Scotland does not have and Deans, or Bishops.
     The Somervilles have been Presbyterian since the Scottish Reformation in 1560 and one, Malcolm Somerville was close to John Knox – though I don't suppose they ever shared a joke over a glass of whisky! There were Lyttletons who remained with Rome, but no matter what the Schism, family relations were always put above all and none of our ancestors ever fought a duel with another. We were on both sides in the Covenanting times, some Dumbiedykes riding with Graham of Claverhouse while others, together with Urquharts, were with Leslie at Philiphaugh where the Royalists were roundly beaten. And in the Disruption on 1843, in which a large section of the Church of Scotland split away to form the free Church of Scotland, once again, families were riven, with Mountcastles following Dr Chalmers and signing the Act of Separation, while several Moncriefs remained with the established Church. In David Octavius Hill's famous painting of the Disruption Assembly, there are 15 of my ancestors among the attendees.
     But I wouldn't want to give the impression that we are all Holy Willies. Scientists, poets, and politicians are there; so are engineers, farmers and members of the armed services; I don't think there were any murderers, but three did their time in prison – one for malpractice as a doctor, another was a politician who took back-handers, and the third was a bigamist (or is it trigamist?) all of whose wives stood by him and on his release he went off to Canada with his legal wife and the other two and they all apparently lived happily ever after and raised their own Canadian branch of the family/
     Our extended family illustrates the weft and weave of religion in Scottish history, of the changes in the Scottish political landscape, and the fluctuations of family fortunes. I don't mean wealth, but stability. Between the Dumbiedykes, Lyttletons, Brevitys, Urquharts, Mountcastles, Moncriefs, Waters, Goldfish, Davidovas and the other branches and twigs, and ourselves, every strand of Faith in Scotland is represented. We have Roman Catholics alongside Free Presbyterians, Jews mingling with Muslims, Quakers on more than nodding acquaintance with Episcopalians; and we have leading members in all the political parties – The Nationalist Party (Ginger Goldfish is the First Minister),
The Socialist Party (led by Trixie Davidova), The Unionist Party (led by Roxy Davidova), the Ethical Gardners Party (Leigh Waters as the Chairperson) and the Guardian Readers Party (with Hugh Moncrief as their dynamic new leader).
     We have actors and film directors, historians, like Daphne and Maude – well, no-one is quite like Daphne and Maude – the Leader of the SNO and several players in the national teams in Football, Rugby and Cricket. Unfortunately, Andy Murray is not actually a relative, but he could have been if his mum's first boyfriend hadn't had to change a wheel on his dad's car and miss a date at which she got fed up waiting and started talking to a guy called Murray. But Chick Murray was mu uncle – now that really is a claim to fame!
     And my Partner, who refuses to be called my 'Wife' but will happily answer to Goody, being the older contraction of Goodwife and much more appropriate for the one who is the true Light of my
Life! We have rich heritage and that brings some responsibility – not maybe the kind the Davidovas carry, the twins' father being the Duke of Wester Ross; or Ginger, descended from Mayer Goldfisch and Hannah Cohen (whose father changed the name to Cowan) as well as my great-great-great-great-grandfather, Horace Somerville, who walked all the way round the coast of Great Britain, but not the off-islands which surround us, and wrote a book about it: Sand in my Shoes, because his feet got pretty wet, as he literally walked the coast – except where sheer cliffs made the way impassable at sea level.
     That's enough for now, I think. Any questions – feel free to ask them and I'll answer if I can, or if I don't know it, I'll find someone who does.