For some time now a number of us have been sustained by our benefice’s online Sunday and Daily Services. But in the last months a group of us have also been acting as stewards/assistant vergers for the re-opening of our benefice’s church buildings. There have been ‘hours for prayer’ every week at St John Baptist, Padworth, and at St Saviour's, Mortimer West End. And from September there will be a Eucharist in church on Sunday mornings for limited numbers of households.
When we stand in the strictly-cordoned and clinical environment
of our benefice’s church buildings, with a clipboard in front of us and the
smell of alcoholic spray in the nostrils, it can sometimes feel a long way away
from the mystical Eucharistic love-feast that Jesus initiated at the Last
Supper. It might even seem that we have lost the sense of the Sabbath as a
resting in-between time between the week ahead and the week just past. And,
thus far, no singing, no sign of peace, no sharing of the same cup, no staying
afterwards for coffee, and attendance by booking only.
Of course this is absolutely necessary if we are going to ease
safely back into public worship. And we are nonetheless glad to witness to
this.
Rather than being a ‘haven of escapism’ it feels as if the sacred
space is itself touched and affected by the global situation - wounded almost.
Yet, of course, believing that God, and therefore hope, transcends this virus
is not the same as believing that God is aloof to our pain. We heard a story
recently about a religious Sister/nun who, as a midwife, witnesses to God’s
love on a daily basis in the extreme difficulties that the coronavirus brings
to women already facing in childbirth some of the most challenging moments of
their lives. The Sister reflected that perhaps we can offer a kind of eye in
the storm of life in which people can take refuge and realise that whilst the
storm might not pass quickly God is always there alongside us to offer to
accompany us through it.
Many in the Christian community are still shielding and many
can’t go to church and some church buildings remain closed. And for many of
those who can go to church it may be only to enter for personal prayer -
subject, of course, to all the current health and safety regulations. In these
strange times perhaps it can feel like our church buildings have become strange
and abandoned sacred spaces. And we might be tempted to ask 'where is God in
all this? Is he away on business?’
In reflecting on how these restricted, sterile environments have
been endured over these past few months - not just by us, but by many of the
poorest and most vulnerable people in our world as they struggle to find their
daily bread - we are reminded that God’s business is with us even in the most
difficult of situations. And so let us remember to pray that we may know that
he is present with us and let us, with one heart and mind, pray for those in
our world most affected by coronavirus. God bless,
Paul
