An unforeseen ending to ministry

The sky was overcast again when woke up at first light. I couldn't get back to sleep as I usually do. Instead of dozing, I lay awake, the impact of last night's conversation with Rufus slowly dawning on me. To all intents and purposes, after fifty years of public ministry, officiating at church services as a stipendiary cleric for forty years and then as a volunteer for ten came to an end on March 8th in Ibiza. No matter how fit and well I may be and able to fill in when others need to be absent, I'm now classed as elderly and vulnerable. As long as the covid-19 crisis lasts, I'll be out of action. 

Unless there's a global roll-out of means to prevent and cure this virus, I don't see an end to this for several years to come, years in which the public face of the church will change radically. The more churches have to close and ministries contract, the less need there'll be for aged clerics to plug gaps. Like the rest of the faithful, it'll be a matter for us of finding ways and places where we can meet for common prayer and worship.

Strangely, I don't yet feel sad about it. I'll miss preaching however more than presiding. I'm comfortable enough inhabiting the priestly role. It nurtured my years of full time ministry, but now I'm more blessed by being on the receiving end, responding rather than leading, meditating rather than voicing the prayer of the people.

As I've got older I've relaxed and feel I'm more myself in preaching the Word. Who knows if it'll be possible in future ever again? Will there be an audience for anything more than a brief homily, so that people aren't detained for too long in church? Will every future homily need to be no longer than the BBC's 'Thought for the Day'? (3mins) or at best 'A point of view'? or 'The Archers' much maligned monologues? (13mins) 

Much has been made of the reduction in people's attention span in the era of high speed electronic communications, well before we had covid-19 to make us anxious about the length of time we can risk spending in public gatherings with others not of our household. This doesn't take into account the immersive experience of theatre performances, story-telling or opera, which are able to retain the attention of an audience for a much longer time. Re-launching these activities safely is a hot topic currently given concern about preservation of artistic culture.

Traditional forms of liturgy are also a performing art, calling for a social environment of worship and fellowship. The church would lose its ability to preach and teach the Gospel in depth without them. A radical re-think of the way we do everything in public worship is necessary, but we need to be mindful of what we risk losing in the act of reform.

Karl Rahner half a century ago said of the life of faith; "In the days ahead you will either be a mystic or nothing at all." Christian mysticism, it seems to me relies on the depth of relationship with nature, immersion in the story which scripture tells, the tradition of prayer and worship, and the experience of love in community. All point to the Beyond in our midst, the ground of our being. There's nothing abstract about it, our relationships with God and with each other are inseparable.

When I was at St Mike's I remember a fellow student who was have real trouble getting to grips with a rational analytical attitude to scripture. He wasn't an ideological fundamentalist, but found it hard to reconcile such cool intellectual rigour with his spiritual life. "How can I pray?" I remember him saying, "If I am obliged to think like this all the time." We weren't doing much holistic thinking back in those days, but he did find his way out of the maze eventually, helped by engaging with the mystical writings of Christian saints. They weren't always easy to understand, but got you pointed heavenwards, and that was all that mattered.