There were twenty of us for the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. The new covid variant scare is having hitting people's confidence. It seems tonight's PCC is set to discuss whether or not to continue to offer public worship, as some attendees are slower to disperse from the churchyard than is considered to be desirable.
Clergy are being enjoined not to stand outside to greet people from a suitable distance as they leave, as this leads to people hanging around outdoors. Outside the church gates on the street, in the shops, the risks will be high because the public realm isn't as well controlled. It doesn't take much to ask people not to take off their masks while they are within the gates. They'll understand why. Outside, it's up to each person to assess risk for themselves.
It troubles me that if clergy can't see and hail worshippers from afar and ask how they are, offer a word of support and encouragement, what will it do to pastoral relationships? On-line isn't enough, a face on a screen doesn't allow a pastor to notice the true colour of someone's complexion, their tone of voice, their movement when they walk, all of which inform the relationship the shepherd has with the flock. I found it in Ibiza - seeing only half a dozen people over a three month period, face to face, very occasionally. It was impossible to establish meaningful pastoral relationships with people I was there to serve. That was the worst thing, not being able to assess from personal contact what was really happening to people. Social media can't be trusted when it comes to baring one's soul.
And all this happens on a day when the key Gospel phrase is 'Come and see ...'
It comes in a week when a contagion expert said on the news that the risk is far less outdoors, with or without a mask, although research into this is still on-going and not yet peer reviewed and published. The most serious risk is in uncontrolled indoor settings, like supermarkets, on which new health and safety requirements have been imposed of necessity this weekend. If data on supermarket based contagion is available, why not data on contagion in compliant churches? Without proper information, judgements are likely to be made on the basis of anxious hearsay - as if we needed that!
In church, we pray in a highly controlled environment, sitting in well spaced out pews, wearing obligatory masks. Those who attend behave considerately of others, and don;t hang about indoors longer than they need to. We're told there's a hugely increased risk, but without a shred of data to show how many Anglican congregations worshipping together compliantly are known to have been involved in transmitting infection. Sure, a few churches have blatantly ignored the risk from the outset, carried on as normal and become 'superspreaders', but does that mean the rest of us can't be trusted to behave compliantly? Caution, self-discipline, good information are always essential in Christian conduct, even more so in such dangerous days. Timidity is understandable and inevitable, recklessness is folly, but giving in to the tide of fear - how does that witness to the Gospel?
On my walk in the park after lunch, the Taff water level was down again and the resident Merganser was back on the rock slabs where family can be seen. On the same outcrop stood a cormorant as I was passing and I got a nice photo of the two of them in each other's space. The merganser moved ,then fluffed up its feathers as it turned its back on the cormorant. The cormorant then plopped into the water and took off.
Afterwards, I decided to have a go at reclaiming space in my Gmail accounts now 85% full. If storage fills up completely I'll be required to rent extra space, but why bother if most of the data stored is redundant or irrelevant? Last year I deleted emails from 2007 when I registered the accounts, up to 2010 when I retired. Since then, a great number of emails were CBS correspondence, not necessary to keep as they are copied on the CBS Gmail account.
Over the past ten years, the size of photo attachments has risen tenfold, as many senders don't bother to downsize them before sending. Also thousands of notifications that should have been deleted weren't. Google's fast search options mask the accumulation of redundant files and big attachments. After an hour's work, I got rid of ten gigabytes of data on one account and seven on another. One thing which I discovered on other file storage systems too. The deleted content of the account trash can must also be deleted before file space is reclaimed. Sneaky that one! A worthwhile effort, I think.
I had an email after lunch from Emma in the Euro-diocesan office about the new requirement for holders of PTO doing locum duty that they now need to do a further on-line Safeguarding training, before their PTO is renewed. The five year renewal cycle has been reduced to three years, the accent on training is welcome in a fast changing environment, especially regarding the rise of on-line forms of abuse. Emma works from home in deepest rural Essex where, like here they've had phenomenal amounts of rain. There was a tiny video clip of the little stream at the bottom of her garden, swollen and spilling over its banks. It's the same in many parts of Britain.
Much to my surprise, I had an email from Bishop June while I was out walking, noting with appreciation my small effort to support the Parish ministry team these past few months. How could I do anything else as an elderly churchgoer who happens to be ordained and still fit enough to function from time to time. In present circumstances ministry is extra difficult and demanding of new skills, stamina and patience. It's a relief to me that I no longer have responsibility for holding everything together and giving a lead. Acting on orders, as long as I can do that well and correctly is all I can hope to do nowadays. It's not a bad thing at all. President to be Joe Biden is my age. I'm glad not to be in his shoes!
ON telly tonight, we watched the first of a six part drama about a woman whose property developer husband dies mysteriously at 48 while he's showing them around the high tech new home he's just had built for them to move into. It's a sort of black comedy, that may turn into a comedy crimmie, I suppose. In my Geneva days I was summoned urgently to offer pastoral support to the traumatized wife and daughter of a member of the congregation who was a banker. He dropped dead in the middle of a working day, and I was asked to accompany them to the chapel of rest where his body had just been laid out. He was still in his work suit, looking smart, eerie and unreal. 'That's not my Daddy!' exclaimed his 13 year old daughter, and they both wept.
Watching this brought it all back to me, whether it was really true to life or not. That made it uncomfortable to watch, not entertaining at all. I am interested in how it plays out, however, given the problems which arise when someone dies intestate or mired in debt or cash-flow issues, especially as bank accounts are automatically frozen when someone dies. It's understandable that some elderly people are still in the habit of keeping a stash of cash under the bed, reluctant to entrust all their wordly goods to the self serving paranoia of a modern banking system.
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