Mission reported

Another overcast day with showery spells. Promptly at eight the door bell disrupted our slumber. Our fish order for the month arriving from Ashtons. After breakfast, Clare spent ages unpacking and bagging up the content of the order ready for freezing. Fish soup for lunch!

I sent the final revision of my end of stay report to Emma at diocesan HQ. Later we talked about it on the phone. I heard that I wasn't alone among locum chaplains in not receiving invitations to visit or meet with congregation members. A habit which seems to have been lost in the aftermath of COVID. Gathered church becoming nothing more than a gathering of religious consumers, hospitable when gathered, but not otherwise? 

Clare ordered Venetian blinds for the front room, and a man arrived to install them just before lunch. Then a fancy airbed with built-in pump was delivered. We expect a houseful when Rachel and Jasmine arrive at the end of the month, and everyone here for Owain's birthday. Poor guy, his iMac won't power up after ten months in storage. Heaven knows what's wrong with it. He's expecting a big pay rise eventually but getting to know the worst, and whether it can be fixed will have to wait until then.

After lunch, I worked on a reflection for next Thursday. It's difficult to think of something fresh to say in 500 words on The Rich Man and Lazarus when you've covered it so many times. Impossible not to repeat some ideas, but important to find a new insight, even if it does take ages. While I was writing, Clare had her first clarinet lesson with a loaned instrument. While she's mastered basic flute playing she feels the strain on her shoulders from the transverse playing position. The vertical playing of the clarinet could be more amenable to her. She's not afraid to give things a try, that's for sure.

As soon as I set out for a walk at tea time, it started to rain. Rather than get soaked, instead of ending my walk with a visit to Tesco's for a bottle of wine, I went straight there and back in between showers. It's so frustrating, this unpredictable weather. 

As I have my MRI appointment at eight in the morning, I rang the Radiology department at UHW to confirm attendance, I asked about parking and was told Saturday is the best day of the week to get a place in the multi-storey car park. So I don't have to get up extra early to walk there, in order to avoid having to hunt for a parking space in competition with thousands of others.

After supper, I went out again to complete my daily steps quota on a damp drizzly dull evening, before an early night.

Summer proposal

A change in the weather overnight with cloud dispersing and the temperature rising to 20C mid- afternoon, and it's set to become even warmer in days to come. The moon is full tonight, spring is on the way. After breakfast I found an email waiting for me from Emma in diocesan HQ, to say that it would be possible to do seven of the nine weeks of the Lausanne locum duty July-August this year, without hindrance from Schengen rules. I wanted to talk to Clare about it, but she's been off-line since last night.

Then, I walked down the the church office to sort out bible study material ready for tomorrow, and then continued into town to buy a shirt in Dunne's Stores, a long sleeved blue cotton one, only €12. I then paid a visit to Fuengirola's Municipal Market, which has some interesting shops selling teas and health food products, but most of the meat fruit and veg stalls stalls were shuttered by mid-afternoon. Like the one in Los Boliches business starts and finishes early in the day. I caught the train back, and returned to the house for a very late lunch. 

I had a chat with Owain on WhatsApp then spent much of the evening downloading archived photo albums to add to others I'm storing on a 32GB USB stick. I've cleared more than five gigabytes of photos from one of my Google Photos accounts, but the increased spare space isn't registering. I'm still getting 'account nearly full' warnings. With millions of accounts stored on its servers, it probably takes a long time to update them all, especially as data is backed up more than once on different servers. This account I started around twenty years ago, possibly during a visit to Switzerland. It's hard to imagine where my data might actually be stored. Perhaps it doesn't make sense to ask, as it's so complex.

I caught up with Clare late evening, having spoken only briefly at lunchtime. After thinking about it she okayed the prospect of a summer holiday in Lausanne, and catching up again with old friends, so I informed Emma, and look forward to making contact for a briefing in the coming days.

Return of the rain

I woke up to find the sky overcast again, with rain threatened for later. After breakfast I started checking what I'd already prepared for the homily at Wednesday's Communion service, and realised that I'd made an error I'd not noticed before. When preparing the print ready pdf files for each week's bible study notes, I'd missed this Wednesday's set of notes, duplicating the following week's notes instead. No sooner than I had discovered this than Caroline emailed me to point this out. I was able to rectify it quickly enough, but the notes printed out already well need the dates on them hand corrected when I go into the office tomorrow. Then I had to write this week's homily to match the bible study texts, but I now have next week's homily already done.

An email arrived from Emma in diocesan HQ to ask if I'd be free and able take on a summer locum job in Lausanne. Lovely to be asked, but under these damned stupid Schengen visa rules, my first period of 180 days doesn't expire until the last week in July, so I couldn't offer two full months as required. Such a shame. I'm pretty sure I'll be asked to cover clergy summer holiday absences back home then as well.

I cooked lunch, using up almost all the remaining veggies in the fridge, and then walked to Mercadona to stock up again for the week. I chatted with Clare for half an hour when I returned to the house. She told me about the very unusual premiere of Mozart's 'Magic Flute' which she saw with Ann and Chris yesterday afternoon. There was quite different take on the staging and libretto in this production, she said. The Guardian's review of it was very critical, but it still sounds like something that would be worth going to see if the opportunity arose. It may well have suffered from being at the beginning of its run of performances, being so different, no matter how well rehearsed such an occasion always is. Not being there for this was the one big sacrifice I had to make in order to come here.

I then set about going into Fuengirola by train to buy myself a new shirt in Dunne's Stores, as I saw one I fancied a few weeks ago but still haven't got around to returning and making the purchase. Rain was in the weather forecast, so I wore my rain coat. It was only drizzling slightly when I left, but by the time I reached Los Boliches it picked up and turned into a downpour which went on for more than an hour. 

I decided to abandon the trip to Dunne's Stores, and ended up with a cup of coffee in the Granier panaderia next to the municipal market, waiting for it to stop. It didn't, but it slackened sufficiently to allow me to return to the house without getting totally soaked. Then after a while, heavy rain returned and continued throughout the evening. It's the first spell of rain in five weeks. Like it is in Britain this year, that's an unusually long winter dry spell. Rain has meant that I wasn't able to walk my full quota today. My rain coat needs to dry out in case there's more rain tomorrow.

After supper, I watched the news on telly for a while, and a programme in English which I found on a specialist channel, but soon lost interest. The internet went down for no apparent reason, so I rebooted the router and all was well. It's the first time I've had to do that since I'm here. Don't feel like reading, so another early night I think, listening to the rain.

Prove who you are - impersonally, really?

As ever on Monday some housework to do after breakfast. Then I went into town to meet Chris from his train, to sit and chat over a couple of coffees in a Royal Arcade cafe I'd passed but never been in before. It was quite busy, and there were several people working on the laptops, taking advantage of the free wi-fi, that is now become a common feature of just about every establishment open to the public in the city centre. You can also get free wi-fi when out and about in the street once you register. 

It's so different from how it was fifteen years ago when St John's pioneered the first public wireless access point in the in town, and certainly the first in a church. That ran for a year for free, as I recall, then lapsed, as the publicity stunt ended and wi-fi roll-out got going in earnest. It was rather clunky as speeds weren't great. More a proof of concept than anything else. But I was there! As Max Boyce would say.

Chris and I chatted for two hours, about the departure of the Bishop and the prospects for a new one. It was two by the time I arrived home for lunch, lovingly kept warm by an ever patient Clare. There was a message from Pidgeon's about a funeral the week after next. After I'd eaten, I went for a walk in the park, then recorded and edited the audio for this week's Thursday Morning Prayer and reflection. 

I returned to receive an email from the Euro-diocesan safeguarding officer with instructions about registering for the CofE Disclosure and Barring service database, something which I'd done three years ago prior to going to Ibiza. I dug out my password for the website, and was obliged to re-enter a list of required identity details, the same list as last time, if my memory serves me right. The next requirement is to get copies of three identity verification documents and get them signed for by a cleric - Mother Frances has agreed to do this when we meet for the Fountain choir concert rehearsal tomorrow night. 

Once signed, I have to scan and send them to the safeguarding officer. It's an onerous task, and it must be that much less straightforward for anyone who doesn't have the ability or technical resources on hand to do this. Proving who you are by supplying a whole lot of confidential data had now almost entirely supplanted personal relationship 'knowing and being known'. I see the point in a world where deceit and lies have become endemic, and identity theft is now crime whose impact is causing increasing concern, but the impersonal forensic nature of the process seems anything but pastoral when based on electronic communication. 

The only personal element is the responsibility entrusted to Mother Frances verifying my documents, as a cleric who knows me. I'll have to go through this procedure all over again soon, as the due date for my diocesan PTO will fall early in the New Year. I find this process at the heart of the church's enlistment for public ministry somewhat disturbing. The data doesn't say whether I am faithful, or trustworthy with the duties I undertake, only that I haven't transgressed the law and been found out. It hasn't stopped the church from losing members or gaining new ones. The distrust or disregard people have for the church is based on credibility of belief and practice in all our relationships. Not just compliance with the law. 

At least there's one thing to rejoice about today. I heard that Gerwyn, former Dean of Llandaff has been appointed Vicar of Thaxted in Essex, an historic Anglo-Catholic Parish in Essex with a radical social traditions, bringing to a happy closure the bitter dispute between Bishop June and Gerwyn about reforms imposed on the way the Cathedral and Parish were run. It attracted unwelcome publicity from the media, and affected his health, such that he hadn't worked since early in the pandemic and eventually resigned his office, withdrawing a formal complaint he'd made against her. It was a profound embarrassment for the Cathedral and diocese. Llandaff has a history of tense relationships between its Bishops and Deans, but nothing quite as open and exposed as this. Thankfully now, it's over.

After supper the last episode of 'London Kills' and latest of 'The Blacklist', almost impossible to fathom. After watching all fifteen episodes of the former I can say with confidence that the same clips of stock footage of London locations was re-used time and time again in between dialogue scenes, to no benefit apart from padding episodes out to forty five minutes instead of forty or less. It takes binge watching to notice things like that. I the porgramme commissioners notice, or care, I wonder?

Jazz night out

After breakfast this morning, Clare had a jazz piano lesson with Eddy. He mentioned that he was playing a gig this evening at a cocktail bar in St Mary Street. Naturally she decided she wanted to attend. A Friday night in town isn't a time I'd choose to go out, when the city centre is packed with carousing young people but reluctantly, I agreed.

Yesterday I had an email from Emma the Euro-diocesan Locum administrator about renewing my PTO, and requirement to fill in a form for the Safeguarding Office as the basis of their checks. When I tried to do this, this morning, although the document sent was a standard .docx file it resisted my attempts to fill it in, being marked 'read-only'. When I checked out the OneDrive embedded online MS Word app, it too refused to do anything other than display read-only. I tried saving a copy to edit, but still it wouldn't work in Libre Office, my default Word Processing app. I don't use desktop MS Office. When I re-saved the file in Open Document .ODT format, it became editable, though editing was slow to respond. At least I got it done and sent it off eventually, but it took far longer than expected.

I finished and printed out my Sunday sermon while Clare had her lesson, then cooked lunch. Afterwards, a brief snooze in the chair followed by a walk in Llandaff Fields and along the Taff, I saw a goosander in the water a good half a mile above a spot downstream where I see them roosting. When walked past the rock,  a little later, a mallard couple was perched on it. I wondered if they'd dispossessed the goosander forcing it to move to the stretch of river where I saw it. For more of last year I rarely saw any goosander on the river as I had done in previous years. I guess these changes in habitual behaviour are symptomatic of changes in environmental and weather conditions. Animals are more affected than humans by subtle changes I think.

During supper, we listened to 'Amser Jazz' broadcast from the RWCMD over YouTube, then walked to St John's to pin a poster on the church notice board about the Fountain Choir concert a week Sunday at St Catherine's. The church was brightly lit and there was a carol service going on within when we arrived. The first Christmas lunch of the year had been served up in church this lunchtime for about twenty people.

We caught a bus into town from nearby the church, and made our way to the castle end of St Mary Street to the cocktail bar where Eddy's gig was taking place. It was packed with young people on their first stop  of the night, drinking cocktails. People came and went fairly quickly so we were soon able to move from a high seat opposite the bar to a table right next to the band. Eddy was clearly pleased that Clare had come, and she introduced us in the break between sets. A piano, bass, guitar trio, playing post war Jazz standards, perfect live cocktail lounge music, played with vigour by three young musicians a third our age. Wonderful!

I recognised the bass player from the 'Amser Jazz' gig we watched earlier.. He caught my attention, as I thought he was playing a proper string bass from what we heard. I looked, but couldn't find a string bass, just a bass guitar sounding like a proper string bass. Tonight he was playing one. Nice technique I thought, and told him so when we congratulated the band before leaving for a ten o'clock bass. The young guitarist was rooted in the classic jazz guitar tradition of  Wes Montgomery and Barney Kessel, despite all being born well after they'd died. It was a musical treat.

We were lucky not to wait long for an 18 bus to Canton Cross, as the temperature was 5C. Not a night to be standing around for long. I watched the latest episode of Astrid and Rafaelle on catch-up when we returned, as it was on telly while we were out tonight. Bed rather late.

Practical inspiration

A lovely day today, but with the best of the morning given up to the second part of my Zoom Safeguarding training session. To prepare for the session I had to watch the two case study videos on YouTube of the Bishop Peter Ball case - an uncomfortable account of how a secular predator within the church courted members of the British establishment of church and state which was taken in by his charismatic pious personality, blind to how manipulative he was, and then in denial when the law caught up with him. I had seen it before, but it was good to review it for present purposes.

It occurred to me listening to the dramatized transcript of his police interviews that he was a man who sincerely believed in the rightness of his abusive actions, seeing and interpreting them as acceptable to God. On the surface it seemed as if he was promoting a kind of mediaeval penitential asceticism, but dig down beneath the layer of ostensibly orthodox monastic teaching and what you have is a peculiar kind of syncretism, 

Christian faith with a hidden layer of belief in an alien deity that embraces aberrant sexual behaviour, cruelty and domination. The worship of ancient middle eastern deities centred around nature's cycle of fertility and found a place not only for human sacrifice but also temple prostitutes, both male and female, as part of sacred ritual. such secret beliefs justifying his actions to himself wouldn't make much sense of forensic interrogator. There was evidence he had broken the law, but on theological reflection his behaviour stank of idolatry.

In the Zoom session, we looked at a rather complex case study and discussed how its developments should be responded to from a safeguarding perspective. It was very helpful. I think more sessions of this kind would be valuable, to keep us on the alert, as new kind of vulnerability keep emerging in an ever changing, not always benign world. Completing the training means that my Permission to Officiate can now be re-issued, making me completely 'legit' for three years locum service, not just provisionally for the next couple of months.

Afterwards, I started work on my Sunday sermon as I had an idea I to pursue prompted by the training. Looking at the parable of the Good Samaritan in its context of discussion about 'Who is my neighbour', I realised Jesus was good at presenting case studies of real life issues, rather than indulging in abstract generalities, and that got me started. It turns out to be particularly relevant at this time in St German's as the church is hosting a Safeguarding training session for the Ministry Area at the end of this month.

I was so absorbed in what I was doing that it took me until lunchtime to realise that I had forgotten to take the car to N G Motors in Splott for its MOT test, booked for today. I drove straight over and left the car there for the weekend. I'll have to use the bus to get to St German's on Sunday.

After a snack lunch, I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer audio, finishing just in time for the arrival of Kath and Rhiannon mid afternoon for an overnight stay. We planned to go out for a meal but Rhi was feeling unwell with a cold, so we ordered a takeaway from Stefano's instead. 

It was sunny and warm enough to eat outdoors - a very enjoyable meal, followed by a quiet hour of catch-up chatting. The others turned in at eleven, but I went out to stretch my legs and walked in the park for half an hour before bed. 

Training on Zoom

After breakfast this morning, it took me a while to work out exactly the best place to install myself for the Diocese in Europe Zoom training session on Safeguarding, to ensure were I could get a stable signal, and be visible to other participants. There were seventeen of us including the three trainers, from Chaplaincies in Turkey, Norway, Hungary, Germany, Holland, Italy, France and Switzerland. Chaplains, Lay Readers, musicians and other officers, Wardens, an ordinand and a Catholic priest preparing for Anglican ministry, a fine cross section of people engaged in the diocese. It all worked without a hitch, and was a worthwhile session. The homework is to watch two hours worth of video about sex offender Bishop Peter Ball, and all the safeguarding concerns surrounding that notorious case.

After my last disaster involving this training when I got the time wrong, I was nervous about it happening again, or something else technical sabotaging the occasion. The added complication was Clare having a Skype session with her Jazz piano teacher, whose time overlapped with mine - what if two internet video calls simultaneously created problems for us both? Well, it didn't, but Clare had a separate problem with her call, as she kept on losing the audio, although her video was unaffected. In the end she had to give up and troubleshoot. It turned out that her method of attaching her tablet to stand so she could chat hands free while playing was blocking the tiny aperture containing the microphone. Problem solved. She completed her lesson later in the afternoon.

Ashley and I met for a drink at the Saffron Cafe at tea time, then I returned home and remembered that I'd not collected my prescription medication, so I had to go out again to the surgery to pick up the script, and take it to the pharmacy across the road from the surgery, which fortunately was still open. Now I'm fully equipped for my stay in Spain. I did the same before going to Ibiza, though I only took two months worth of medication with me and due to my extended stay, had to secure a prescription in situ and pay for medication. To succeed in this I had to contact the surgery and ask them to find out what the name of the equivalent drug would be in Spain. Bless them, it took a couple of days but I got a useful reply that satisfied the need. Looking back, I'm amazed to think that I navigated my way through all that.

Clare went to the last Amser Jazz session of the term at RWCMD, while I waited for her to return for supper, I watched another episode of 'Coroner' on More Four, and then more after supper. The plot gets more complex and confusing in a seemingly never ending story of professional lives overlaid with  family dysfunction - the price that's paid for being excellent at the job - it's a theme which often seems to crop up in police and medical procedural sagas. A reflection of our era maybe?

It's Owain's fortyfourth birthday today and he's out in Switzerland staying with his friend Ludo in Nyon. He posted a lovely picture of Lac Leman on Instagram this evening. As I expected, the weather has been kind, and he's been 'wild' swimming today in one of the most civilised places to do so. Quite a number of the lakeside Communes with beaches have proper changing rooms with showers, picnic areas and barbequeue areas. It's been like that for the past half century at least. I love that lake.

Safeguarding revisited

I couldn't decide if soreness at the back of my throat over the weekend was due to mild hay fever or a cold developing. When I woke up this morning I had a thick head which felt just like a cold. I can't imagine how I picked this up. It's the first I've had for over a year.

After breakfast I called the daughter whose mother's funeral I'm taking on Thursday. Then I had an email to respond to about wedding blessing arrangements for the service in Sotogrande in the week after I arrive in Estepona. 

Job done, I got as far as vacuuming the carpets and was then distracted from washing the floor by an email offering me a place on a Eurodiocese safeguarding training course in the first week of July. I've waited fifteen months to take the course after having missed the previous one due to a mix up over the time the first Zoom conference started. I noticed the date notification on the confirmation email now has all three time zones covered by Diocese in Europe chaplaincies, clearly labelled, so you have to think about which is your local time when adding it to the diary. 

Last time round, I did the preparatory course work writing a response to four standard questions about safeguarding. It took me a while to track down the archived file, and when I re-read it, saw a number of points which needed to be added or modified. It will be good to complete this course before my next spell of locum ministry starts. Things will have changed over the past two years. 

By the time I'd finished it, was ten to one. Clare was washing the floors, while I got on with cooking pasta with stir fried veg and mussels for lunch. It took me thirty five minutes. Delicious, quite fast food!

The loss of my fit-bit was still bugging me, as I miss it already, and have to carry my phone around with me all the time and use its built in pedometer, not as accurate as having one strapped to the wrist. Why it should matter to me to keep track is really to do with knowing if I've done more or less the right amount of activity in a day, to learn why some days I feel much more tired than others, whether it's natural physical tiredness, stress or maybe a cold, or lacking sleep. It's also about understanding the impact of ageing on my body, and what constitutes a sustainable daily activity level, adequacy not super fitness.

Anyway, after lunch I went over to St German's by bus to search the sacristy and retrace my steps from Sunday, but after half an hour's searching I still couldn't find it. Sad. I'll have to buy another.

This evening, I watched a delightful episode of Springwatch with webcam footage of birds hatchng and chicks growing, plus the birth of some badger cubs, possibly the first time this has been observed and recorded. The programme also showed several warblers being ringed - reed, sedge and Cetti's, all found on a Northumbrian nature reserve. It was lovely to have live close ups pictures of the three different kinds being held briefly after ringing was completed. The differences between them were much easier to see than on the page of a book. Then, the fifth episode of Silent Witness, with more intrigue, deaths and disappearances. Dark dealings between medical researchers and big data companies. The last episode of this new series tomorrow. It's spot the villain time again!

An offer not to refuse

A warm but cloudy day with several cloudbursts. I did some house cleaning this morning, and cooked my recently invented pasta recipe with butterbeans, mushrooms and onions plus butternut squash, as the guest vegetable. Clare got wet going out in the morning and me likewise after lunch, when I left the house to walk to town to bank a cheque and meet with Rufus for a chat. 

I ended up waiting twenty minutes for a bus which left me twenty minutes to go to the bank and back to 'Coffee Barker' in Castle Arcade, a place with lots of comfy arm chairs low light and candles, a Central European ambience. Then I bumped into Rufus with his wife Daria outside St John's, so we went straight to Barker's. Daria left us for an errand of her own, and we chatted for a couple of hours.

While we were together, I received an email from Emma at Euro-diocesan HQ confirming that the locum duty offer I made was acceptable and to expect a call from the Costa del Sol West locum organiser to sort out details. I'm delighted to have the prospect of another spell doing pastoral work in Spain. A new environment and communities to discover, old Costa friends to pick up with on days off. 

It's been two years since my last Euro-locum in Ibiza, and in that time a great deal has changed in UK and Europe. This will be my first chance to learn first hand about the ramifications of brexit for British ex-pats, and its impact on church life. I am just a bit nervous about this. It'll be a test of my resilience, and whether I can pick up where I left off in terms of living and working in Spain after spending so long in the confines of Cardiff and environs, walking around Canton or Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields day after day. I'm glad that I haven't let my Spanish go, but continued to practice obsessively every day.

After parting company with Rufus and Daria, I visited the bank, just as the paying in machines were being emptied. Fortunately the  clerk doing the job paused her errand to let me to make the deposit. We chatted about holidays. She's off to Seville next week and thinking of an outing to Granada. I persuaded her to consider a 45 minute trip to Cordoba on the AVE while she was there. Granada takes two and a half hours, and needs much more than a half day to savour.

On the walk back from town, I saw Mallard ducklings swimming in the Taff for the first time this year. I also caught sight of a heron, and hung around long enough to take a photo just after it had taken flight, a first for me to get one that's not badly blurred.

I pottered about until supper time sending a few files direct to Rachel. The MP4 of a LlanfairPG sign above a souvenir shop proved more fiddly to send by WhatsApp than anticipated, so I had to figure out a workaround to succeed. Trivial things don's always work out the way you expect them to.

I watched a episode of a beautiful environmental documentary called 'Earth from Space' on BBC Fourshowing how global photographic mapping reveals fascinating things about Mother Earth, and the patterns etched into the landscape by the effect of seas, rivers and weather over centuries. There was a wonderful sequence in which fishermen in the Bay of Bengal netted fish from ponds in the delta at low tide with the help of domesticated otters, and another in which an Amazonian ox-bow lake was being used as a conservation resource to house manatees, an indigenous endangered aquatic mammal.

Then another episode of 'Blacklist' on 5USA. Not only an implausible storyline, but dialogue taken too fast or two quietly. I don't think my hearing is the problem. Even with the sound turned up I find it hard to catch whole sentences thrown away by the actors. How do they get away with it?

Time with Rachel

I posted to WhatsApp the link to today's Morning Prayer video as soon as I woke up, then after breakfast worked on next week's reflection, before walking into town with Clare and Rachel, so that she could buy a Welsh souvenir for Jasmine from one of the tourist shops. Having seen what was on offer in the shops, she had to wait for Jasmine to wake up in Arizona to consult her about the suitability of what was on offer. She settled on some Wales branded socks in the end, as she already has a Wales branded tee shirt. Then we had lunch in a Portuguese pasteleria opposite the Castle before walking home again.

An email from Emma at Euro-diocese HQ awaited me on return, asking if I'd be available for locum duty in July and August. Two month cover is becoming the norm now as chaplaincies can't afford to cover the cost of flights more frequently now. With Jasmine coming to visit us in the second week of July all I can offer is a seven Sunday stint instead of the nine needed, so it's unlikely to happen unless they're desperate. It does mean, however, that I'll be in line to get Euro-diocese Safeguarding training done this year, before I go anywhere, and that is good news.

Having had a discussion with Rachel about making an audio vision stream to boost the branding of her Chocologie-love website, she sent me fifty odd promotional photos of chocolates she's made, which I was then able to combine with the three minute fiftyfive second MP3 of the song called 'Chocolate' which she wrote and recorded over twenty years ago but never promoted, much to my disappointment as I thought it was good, but she thought it might stereotype her as a pop artist rather than a serious singer-songwriter. Now she has her own veegan organic chocolate making business, it seemed to me worth revisiting.

Before receiving all her photos, I first a made a proof of concept video, then a visually richer video with about twenty different photos. She was pleased with this and proposed adding even more photos, which I will do after she's gone, as we have now established a simple file exchanging routine using Google Drive. It was fun to do, and a hope it draws attention to the song, and to her excellent chocolates. Last night she found the remnants of a packet of cacao powder in the cupboard, plus the remnants of a jar of coconut oil, flavoured with orange blossom honey, and made a small batch of truffles, which we enjoyed with tea and strawberries today.

In the evening, she gave Clare some Reiki and while I was watching 'The Girl in the Spider's Web' on Film Four, she gave my wonky foot a therapeutic massage. I didn't like the film. As a sequel, I didn't think the story-line was worthy of Steig Larsson's original narrative in the Millennium Trilogy. The film was too unreal in its hyper-violence.and using CGI for incredible stunts, making them frankly, incredible to watch. Not even worth suspending disbelief to watch..

Sobering prospects

A day of changeable weather, sun and wind, clouds and rain. Clare went off on the train the Kenilworth to join Kath for a Carnival Choir concert rehearsal in Birmingham. There were two loads of washing to be finished off. The second one, I put out on the line to blow in the wind, but after a couple hours I had to bring it in and hang everything indoors when it began to rain. 

Details landed of another funeral for me to take in ten days time. Fr Dyfrig the Area Dean sent me the St German's December duty rota, confirming  my engagements there until the end of the year. If had an email too from Emma the diocese in Europe locum co-ordinator. It seems possible I'll be asked to do duties abroad next spring, once I get to the top of the Euro Safeguarding training queue. There are plenty of vacancies at the moment, that's for user.

I spent most of the morning editing the sound file and adding pictures to it for next Thursday's Morning Prayer video. After cooking and eating lunch, I walked in the park with intermittent gusts of wind and rain showers. The changing colours are lovely. I took one picture that to my mind summarises autumn.

               

With nothing also calling for my attention, I whiled away the entire evening relaxing in front of the telly, wondering what next year will bring my way, at home or abroad, maybe both. It will be two years since I last left the country next March, and covid has changed the world so much since then, even if efforts to return things to a semblance of normality abound everywhere in Europe. 

Effective treatments are being developed, and infection surges will happen, unless more effective means of controlling contagion are put into practice universally. At the moment the UK covid infection and death rate is falling back, but in some European countries it isn't. Each is different and the reasons are complex. The word 'pandemic' is used less frequently now, and replaced by the adjective 'endemic' meaning we're stuck with the risk of covid for the foreseeable future, just as we are with 'flu.

COP26 finishes today, with significant progress being made in commitments to glocal carbon reduction, though still not sufficient to reduce global heating to 1,5C, which was the key aim of the conference. All in all, it's a much greater threat to the health of planet, and our own future, than covid is.

Safeguarding training resumes

At last, after breakfast, the two hour Zoom Safeguarding conference I've been waiting for with the Church in Wales Safeguarding trainer, and nearly thirty trainees from all over the Province. For the most part, we were talked to, clearly and straightforwardly or shown slides and video. The presentations were carefully constructed to build the framework within which Safeguarding procedure makes sense. More of that next week. The course content showed signs of relevant recent updating around on-line issues, which is good. There were two five minute slots for breakout groups of 4-5 people, not long enough to my mind, to get acquainted and open up, but yes, it was all worthwhile nevertheless.

Zoom worked as designed with no serious glitches except the odd bout of microphone feedback. Next week's session is at the same time, ten o'clock, which means I'll have to forego the weekly 'Class Mass' at St German's. It's a sacrifice, but I have no alternative to complete the course asap. It's a precondition of my next application for Permission to Officiate, due in the New Year. 

Once I've done this it'll be necessary to approach the Diocese in Europe Safeguarding team and request to re-start their programme, which I failed to complete eight months ago, because I got the start time of the Zoom session wrong - CET not GMT, the same before or after brexit - what a fool I am! Tonight I emailed the diocesan Safeguarding training officer, to re-activate the equivalent process for Europe.

I went out for a walk to clear my head after two hours glued to the computer Zooming, while Clare cooked us a delicious lentil and veg curry. I went out again after lunch and walked again, talking on the phone with Ashley, as we hadn't spoken for two weeks. This month, he told me, Cardiff Business Safe Limited will finally, officially cease trading, then our office in Motorpoint Arena will be shut down and cleared out. 

Very little has happened there for the past year and a half because of covid. Not much by way of events happens at the Arena either. I think the place is destined to be shut down, demolished and the site repurposed, for God knows what. The Guildford Place site opposite the Arena is to house an extra tall tower block behind the retro facade of the former row of low rise Victorian buildings. Not more student accommodation? I hope. What the city needs is more low cost social housing, but land and property profiteers seem to rule the roost.

It's Rachel's birthday today, so Kath arranged a family Zoom call, so we can sing her Happy Birthday and tell her how much we miss her. Two Zoom calls in one day. Heavens above!

After a happy birthday half hour with Rachel, including her showing us her garden in Tempe, I thought I'd investigate how to get the NHS 'covid passport'. The NHS website is clear, simple and well presented, but in order to access what you need, you have to establish your identity, setting up an account login with a two stage process then giving your NHS number, not to be confused with your NI number (as I did at first) plus a photo of your passport which is checked by face recognition software using you device's webcam. 

Once they have confirmed your identity you can move on to get what you came for. Except if you're in NHS Wales territory. There is a route within the website to the page where this is available, but I thought it was embedded in a surfeit of information. More prominent one click access would have raised a few less curses against the system. But it it did deliver a QR code in the end, valid for only a month, and there's one for domestic use and another one for international travel. Then I decided to install the NHS app on my Blackberry to repeat the process and down load the QR code to my phone, requiring a complete repeat of the process. At least it seems renewal whenever required is simpler once to have proved you are who NHS England has verified who you are.

It's a lot of hoops to jump through to acquire a digital document I am unlikely to use unless I go abroad, and that's not going to happen this year, for sure. Thank goodness the QR code isn't needed to cross Offa's Dyke. At last a tiny consolation for being England's oldest colony!

Unusually busy

More bright cold sunny weather today. At last some free time to spend on preparing for the rest of the week's services on WhatsApp, and making contact with chief mourners arranging funerals at which I'll be officiating this week and next. I uploaded this morning's as soon as I woke up, and got tomorrow's ready during the day.

For this week's assignment, Clare recorded all six resurrection Gospel readings. I think it's good to have the change of voices. Doing this for a continuous live recording is too complex and stressful given the resources available, and the recording time it requires. Inserting an audio file against a photo into the video stream was easy to do. I recorded Morning Prayer, and my reflection of the Gospel of the day separately, and this allowed me to edit them together using Windows Movie Maker. The program is perhaps long in the tooth, but I've used it enough times now not to find it hard to recall how to, and that's what counts, when you're under time constraints, and want to do this as well as possible.

I took a break for a walk in the afternoon, and worked again in the evening. One thing I had forgotten but which was nagging me in the back of my mind was the preparation for the on-line Safeguarding training I have committed to do in order to renew my Diocese in Europe PTO. Maybe I'll never get another locum duty assignment abroad, but I'd prefer to be ready if asked and am free to travel safely etc.. What matters is keeping up to date on an important dimension of pastoral care and awareness applicable to any parish or chaplaincy. The ways in which people can abuse and harm each other seems to keep growing. We have to 'expect the unexpected', as Ashley would say.

The on-line training seminar is a week today, and before that I have to answer, and submit to the training team a series of questions in a digital work book about the nature of safeguarding and the church. There is a deadline for this on Wednesday this week, so that nagging feeling was that I'd better got on and do it pronto. I sat up when I'd finished my other tasks for the day and looked at the questionnaire, thinking I'd do it in the morning, but thoughts occurred to me rapidly, so I wrote to completion, emailed it and went to bed later than I should have done. This training promises to be very interesting, despite being on-line and not in the flesh.

My, that was a busy day!

Unreasonable delay

After breakfast and Morning Prayer, I drove to St Catherine's for perhaps the first time, certainly in the Polo, but maybe since we've been living in the Parish, as it's such a short walk from home. The reason for this was to transport the heavy Bosch vacuum cleaner which Clare bought when I was in Ibiza last year. It's proved to be too heavy for either of us to lug around the house with painful joints. I offered it to church warden Sue for the church, as it's quite a powerful device, better suited to cleaning dusty surfaces in church. A new much lighter one arrives this afternoon.

For the first time since St John's Day in Christmastide, I celebrated the Eucharist this morning, with an improvised sermon. There were eight of us regulars present and I much enjoyed doing so. Although I've not presided for three months, I was more relaxed at ease doing so this time, not worrying about going through the necessary anti-covid precautions. The correct routine seems now to have embedded itself in my memory.

I received an email from the European diocesan Safeguarding team about participating in the on-line Stage Two training which is now a prerequisite for those who wish to hold a diocesan PTO. Those who have done it say it's a worthwhile activity, and even though it's unlikely that I'll get an opportunity to do locum duty abroad any time soon, I intend to keep my PTO so there'll no hold-up if I am asked again.

Back on 23rd February I was due to have a telephone consultation about blood pressure medication side effects with a pharmacological consultant, who cancelled for reasons of sickness on that morning. Today I received an appointment letter for the 25th May. The initial appointment request had been made by my GP last November. For better or worse I've taken the matter into my own hands and feel better for not taking an additional daily tablet whose side effects made me feel worse. There's something absurd about this. 

Just suppose the drug combinations was putting me at more risk than the side effects indicated? I could be dead waiting that long for an assessment. People with mental health conditions get stuck on medications they don't need and which rob them of well-being because their case doesn't get reviewed. The Covid crisis provides an alibi for delayed treatments, so there's no point in making an issue of it. I think I'll cancel the appointment, but suppose I should report this to my GP, in case the system flags me up as 'no-show' or 'non-cooperative' to cover up the uselessness of a service which doesn't even bother to enquire of a patient what impact the consultation delay might have.

Fran and Mark came over to see us and arrived just as I was returning from collecting our Beanfreaks weekly grocery order. We had a cup of te in the garden and then went for a walk around Pontcanna Fields together. One they watched the footage of the icon video I shot with them, they decided to revise the script and re-shoot it at a different location. The editing has now been done and it'll be ready for showing on the Parish 'Holy Ground' webcast in Easter Week. I'm pleased they were able to get to a finished product they were satisfied with. I had fun being a small part of the process.

Virus hunting in the sewers

Although I had another long night's sleep, it didn't take me quite so long to wake up and get active, so I walked for an hour before and and hour after lunch today, as I have done several times lately. It seems to work well. I went to Thompsons Park and spotted a single coot on the pond among the scores of warring mallard drakes, alternating between chasing off mating rivals and pursuing the smaller number of ducks. Conflict and courtship look much the same to an untrained eye. Mallards make a display posture, standing out of the water with wings a flutter in a controlled pose which doesn't lead to them taking off. Drakes do it most often, but also the ducks from time to time. When I tried to photograph this behaviour, it was as if they all went on strike and refused to display for the benefit of the camera.

I was glad to l earn this morning that interviews are finally taking place for the post of Chaplain in Ibiza, after two year wait, what with pandemic disruption and the new hurdles of managing appointments and employing a British, if not another expat with post brexit regulations now effective. A great deal of persistence and prayer has been invested in keeping church fellowship going there, not least seven months without even a visit from locum priest. I'd like to think that kind of spiritual determination is being showed elsewhere, not only in the diocese in Europe but in those parts of the Church in Wales feeling the impact of clergy shortages and parochial rationalisation.

It's good to hear that covid infection and hospitalisation rates are starting to slow, a little quicker in Wales than in England, perhaps because the earlier Welsh lock-down offered a head start. Now there's a new worry however, as the South African covid variant has been identified in eight different postcode areas of England in routine testing, perhaps a hundred cases in all. Most worrying is that eleven infected people had no contact with anyone coming in from South Africa. They may have acquired it from an unknown third party - so called 'community transmission' of the virus. The entire population in an area now has to be tested to identify whoever carries the virus without symptoms and is infecting others. It's an unending nightmare for public health officials. 

It was very interesting to hear a passing mention of testing sewage water for covid, being employed to identify areas where the new variants have or haven't taken hold. It's public health procedure that's been used to trace many kinds of toxins over the years. When the West was getting hysterical at the onset of the pandemic this time last year and wanting to blame Wuhan exclusively for the covid19 outbreak, sewage testing revealed that the covid19 strain had been found in the waters of certain municipalities in Europe and other parts of the world dating back three months before the Wuhan outbreak. A fact so conveniently ignored by Trump's non-diplomacy. 

It's not necessarily the case that a fast spreading virus mutation comes to life exclusively in one location. Or at least, the multiple origin factor must be disproved. Ecosystem breakdown all over the planet is thought to be a contributory factor to viruses crossing the special barrier to humans and then evolving. A healthy biosphere normally neutralises this possibility in its complex interaction with many such toxins, but biosphere failures aren't unique to one place if the same conditions persist in different places, due to pollution and global warming. I think we'll be hearing a lot more about sewage testing as part of an early warning system for new virus variants in the coming months. Thank heavens there are now five different successfully proven vaccines in the global mass production line. We need them all.

Ashley called to tell me he'd been offered a vaccine shot, through his GP practice in Riverside. I'm four months older than he is, so it may not be long before we hear from our GPs. It all depends on how each post code age category is organised I guess. Clare rang up to find out if there was a stand-by list we could get our names on, but it seems that what happened to Diana and Pete last week was a one-off, as there was a batch of Pfizer vaccines which needed to be used up more rapidly than had been scheduled for, and this was already finished. More than eight million vaccinations done to date. The pace is pick up from day to day as the distribution and workflow improves. An impressive feat indeed.

No telly tonight, just for a change.

Better safe than sorry

I woke up just the second time last night at half past six, and couldn't get off to sleep properly again afterwards. After Thought for the Day, I uploaded today's Morning Prayer without a hitch, then got up for breakfast, conscious of not having enough sleep. Often I doze off after praying, but not today. I've had an email from Emma at Eurodiocese HQ asking me to do the on-line stage two Safeguarding course, now a requirement for clergy with PTOs. I'm happy to do this, whether or not it ever becomes possible to do another spell of locum duty abroad. 

I'm conscious there are all sorts of low level abusive habits or tolerated practices persisting in the life of the church, some of them to do with bizarre kinds of piety, but others to do with changes in governance and management styles under the guise of coping with crisis. Clergy and lay leaders can be victims as well as perpetrators. I'll be interested to see if any of this is reflected in the stage two course.

This afternoon I walked up to Llandaff Weir for the first time since 22nd November. There's been so much rain over the past couple of months that the footpath and surroundings stayed waterlogged and muddy, treacherous to walk on. A photo I took that day shows a huge tree stump, roots trunk and remains of branches, lodged at the top of weir in the same position as it had been since last February's floods. I think it must have washed out of the river bank nearby, eroded by the storm water surge. I was curious to see if it was still stuck there after the more recent spell of heavy rain, and it wasn't. 

There was no sign of it among the entangled remnants of trees and bushes trapped by island reefs of pebbles that build up in the river bed. Could something that heavy, perhaps half a ton of wet wood, have been carried further down the river out of sight? Or was it necessary for the river management team finally to remove it, as even more wood washed downstream built up and impeded the water flow? I'll never know the answer, but it's clear that work has been done along the banks of the Taff to improve the outflow of flood water.

On the walk back I was pleased to find the Cathedral open to visitors. A dozen English Cathedrals are now closed to visitors and offering only on-line services, because of soaring infection rates. In Wales the rate of increase is showing signs of slowing, but numbers of infections are still high and rising. First Minister Mark Drakeford instigated partial lock-down in Wales before England did, and the measures have been tightened since. Shopper behaviour in supermarkets is being identified as a source of contagion, as well as indoor meetings of households, are now to be restricted. Wales was first then England followed, again.

In the evening I watched the fifth episode of 'Spiral' on iPlayer, having discovered that all ten episodes of this final series are already available to watch. It means I'm not tied to watching later on Saturday evening and ending up not having an early night before church.

Clare's recently been learning to play a 1950s jazz ballad 'Cry me a river'. Julie London's recording with the legendary electric jazz guitarist Barney Kessel and bassist Ray Leatherwood made it into the hit parade after it was performed in the epic Lil' Richard rock 'n roll movie 'The Girl can't help it' in 1956, the year I started grammar school. The song was written for Ella Fitzgerald to sing in a movie, but it was dropped from the story-line, and she sang it in an album of her own 1961. By that time it was a cover version of London's hit. I still remember the words off by heart. I found it on YouTube and played it to Clare this evening. She remembers them too. 

Staycation round two, day four

Another dark day, more low cloud and rain, no going out into the garden. Unusually, I had a disturbed night with wound pain. I woke up feeling as if I'd been in a fight. Breakfast and indoor exercise got me going again, fortunately.

I had a lovely exchange of emails with Emma locums officer for the diocese in Europe this afternoon. It's nice to keep in touch. She's mostly working from home, but recently back one day a week in the Westminster office, though it seems it'll change again. The last time I heard from her she was on holiday with family and relatives in Brittany, concerned about the lack of masks and social distancing there out in the countryside. They just missed having to quarantine on return and are now in phase two restrictions where she lives in rural Essex. There's been an infection surge in her relatively low incidence region. It's tough when you've got young kids and they have to be kept home from school as a precaution.

Our conversation got me thinking about a report I haven't got around to writing for her colleague Laura on the complexities of obtaining a Spanish police check. It went out of my mind when I got back from Ibiza, so I set about doing it immediately. It can't be often that a locum in Spain has spent so much time there without obtaining a NIE identification number or a bank account, both are important if you attempt to apply unaided, as I tried to. I learned the hard way. It's best to get the local Chaplaincy safeguarding officer to arrange this in situ. In the end it saved me a lot more pain.

Just after five I had a phone call on my mobile from someone to arrange an appointment for a covid test on 7th Novemeber. I was starting to wonder if I should ring up about this, as there was no information about how to get this done in the hospital information pack, only stating it as a requirement. Given the strictness our quarantine demands, there could be no question of driving to a test centre. A mobile test team member will visit us instead. It seems that a number of them are re-deployed District Nurses. I wonder if it will be someone I know?

Clare surprised me again at supper tonight with a plate of lavabread and smoked mackeral. Yesterday she received a home delivery of fish from Ashton's fishmongers in the Central Market, a complete salmon filleted, plus the bones to make soup with (which we had for lunch today), and the lavabread which both of us love but only occasionally get around to buying.

I watched a couple more episodes of 'The Same Sky' this evening. The characterisation and sinister portrayal of the workings of the Stasi informers and their overlords is chilling.

More of the same or a new beginning?

Saturday, and pancakes for breakfast. For once I was up early enough to lay the table while Clare cooked them. I went back to bed to pray, still by far the most comfortable place, even though the wound doesn't give me as much trouble as it used to, and I can sit, or should I say perch on a chair with the special protective cushions which go with me everywhere. Probably for the rest of my life with the on-going medical crisis facing the NHS from covid-19, and ever lengthening waiting lists.

Before lunch I went out for a walk, and arrived back in the street at the same time as Ruth, our first guest since February, to eat with us outdoors. Thankfully it was just warm enough. After doing the washing up, I walked into town and back intending to visit the camera shop to see about my HX300 fault, but by the time I got there, I didn't fancy standing around waiting to be seen so I walked back home. The streets weren't exactly busy for a Saturday afternoon. Barbers and hairdressers are open again now, though appointments are necessary. Many Westgate Street buses have been rerouted due to the Castle Street road closure and services are reduced, so a normally busy and heavily polluted area is deserted. I suspect public confidence in the safeness of a retail therapy excursions is pretty low and no amount of cheery exhortation from Boris Johnson will change that.

We received an email from Emma announcing the resumption of Sunday services at St Catherine's and St Luke's tomorrow, with a clear and detailed description of changes made to ensure buildings are safe to worship in, and how Communion will be distributed. I greatly look forward to being at worship with a live congregation once more, and to receiving Holy Communion. Even so, I cannot help but wonder - are we as recipients ready for this? Am I ready? It's not a matter of lacking confidence in the measures being implemented. Although it was likely, subject to continuing improvement of conditions to happen around now, I feel it's happened suddenly, no doubt because I am out of the main flow of discussion and information these days. But there's more to it than this.

The diocese in Europe's Bishop Robert did a special Zoom liturgy, giving thanks for having reached the point when resumption was possible, praying for those whose lives we lost and those engaged in the on-going struggle to care for the sick and find ways to conquer the virus. That seemed like a good idea, even if this seemed early, given that parts of Europe are experiencing spikes in infection raters. It's the same in part of Britain too. A second wave more dangerous than the first is still a possibility due to people moving around, returning to workplaces, and socialising incautiously. 

Trusting that resumption of worship is undertaken on the best advice, it poses the question - how do I/we prepare ourselves inwardly to resume the church's public liturgical life after this four month rupture, so full of fear and uncertainty? It's not just a matter of business as usual, but taking a place in a profoundly changed world as a much chastened community of faith. I imagine that the themes touched upon in Bishop Robert's Zoom liturgy will feature in tomorrow's Eucharists, but how about a public act of corporate penitence, seeking God's mercy and healing, led by the Bishop, before we take Communion once more? 

I won't get a chance to make my Confession before going to church. I have no doubt about God's free offer of pardon, but equally no doubt about the need to dig deep examine my conscience and admit my part in making the world an increasingly toxic place to be in, despite best my intentions. On this occasion, I wish I could.

For the first time since I came out of quarantine, tonight I continued transcribing our 1967 Greek travel diary, rather than watch telly. It's time a got back to writing more than these blog entries.

 

 

Quarantine Cymru day Ten

Thankfully it rained in the night cooling down the air comfortably, although it did make today more humid than yesterday. In the morning I emailed Dave with Sunday's service and a short appreciative article for the chaplaincy magazine, then continued work on my end-of-stay report. I was about to send it off when an email arrived from Emma the locum secretary I was just about to send it to.

It was an advisory email from the diocese in Europe to locums about preparations which are now necessary before taking on a duty. Changes in private insurance requirements, the possible end of EHIC cover when the UK leaves the EU at the end of this year etc. Another document outlined two main health risk categories was also sent. I don't fall into the extremely vulnerable category, and only fall into the moderately vulnerable because I'm over seventy.

My surgical condition doesn't feature among medical conditions considered a vulnerability factor, unless the long drawn out wait for surgery is now making me more prone to repeat infection. On that matter we shall see. It means I'm able to live a normal life and go out subject to necessary precautions which ought to be taken in any case. That's all I need. My habitual restlessness is subjugated for now, perhaps for good

I emailed the GP surgery this afternoon to check if the results of my swab test had been returned. I had a phone call from my doctor at six, and had a discussion which means yet another course of antibiotics. Clare had to rush around to the surgery at the last minute before closure to pick up the prescription. It seems I'm not clear of infection yet, even if I don't feel sick. I think my immune system has yet to recover fully from all I went through in Ibiza. Perhaps it started much earlier but was slow to build up. Who can tell? What I do know is that I'd be a lot better off if I didn't still have to wait an undetermined time to have the wound closed.

Fascinating to transcribe this evening my account of a betrothal feast in an off-road Cretan mountain village, as it reminded me of something totally forgotten - the singing of a traditional resistance song dating back to the struggle to be liberated from Turkish occupation, if not the Venetians before them.  And right then, in 1967, Crete quietly but stubbornly resisted the influence of the ruling military junta in Athens. The lyrics are bloodthirsty so I was told at the time, and reminded of when listening to that BBC documentary about Cretan music yesterday. Then I thought of our own Welsh national anthem, exalting 'brave warriors, fine patriots shedding their blood for freedom' in its first verse. Romance around the use of violence, rather than regret, persists around the world.

This evening I had an email from my niece Nicky with the text she and Jules had devised for their mother Pauline's funeral eulogy, for me to record. Another little challenge to make the best job of that I can, as I'll be unable to attend, given Wales' recommended travel restrictions, although that my change between now and next Friday. As numbers attending are restricted however, it's much better that Owain goes and represents us, and I contribute by video, not in person.

State of Alarm - day Forty Four

An episcopal encyclical arrived with yesterday's emails, detailing carefully the measures and safety procedures which will need to be implemented when public worship can be resumed. Already a few chaplaincies of the diocese in Europe have this prospect approaching quite soon. Sadly, not while I'm in Spain, I think. More than half of the chaplaincy members I won't get around to meeting let alone celebrating with, live in church. The state must first decide it's possible to manage a modest degree of free movement, and resume select business activities to get the economy moving, then conditions may be safe enough to start risk minimised public worship. 

Once congregations are given permission to gather again publicly by government and the Bishop, Churchwardens and sides-persons will have their work cut out to plan and make arrangements for a sanitized liturgical environment, complying with social distancing. What will hit congregations hard is the extreme restriction if not actual banning of collective singing, even in socially distanced environments. This is to minimise exhaled air vapour carrying coronavirus particles far enough for another to inhale them. Bio-security clearance certificates for worshippers wanting to gather is also contemplated, along with several smaller services with people more spread out. With many people getting used to watching on-line services, and finding they have a choice of offerings to suit their taste, deterrents to traditional forms of church service are fast stacking up.

Preparation for any church worship gathering will be a really big effort that no cleric could manage on their own. This was often the norm before covid19 when priests regularly took several services a day, supported by a minimum of church officers, either in the same or other venues, so the faithful could conveniently be served with Word and Sacrament. That's just how it was, the status quo coram plaga. It'll be quite a while before things could be the same again. Maybe they never will be the same again. The impact on how Christians worship and share faith is now changing at a pace unimaginable in the fifty years since churches worldwide were rocked by radical liturgical change and innovation for the first time since the Reformation five centuries ago.

At the same time we face again the same kind of issues as were current then. Fear of contagion even before law enforcement has prevented people from attending public worship and receiving Communion. During lock-down, watching services on-line has served as a replacement, and people have had to get used to the idea of receiving spiritual communion instead. That's how it was before the Reformation, watching services performed up in the sanctuary behind a screen from the distance of the nave!

Frequent reception of Communion may have started to wane when Christianity became a religio licita of the Empire in Constantine's day, and worship in public buildings on a big scale became the norm. Plagues happened in those days too, and Communion in the form of wine from the chalice began to be restricted or modified by using intinction instead, before eventually Communion from the Cup was limited to officiating clergy.  

Withholding the chalice from the laity may be less to do with the presumed assertion of clerical privileged status than an early health and safety precaution. At the Reformation, however, restoring the Cup the the laity was regarded by some as a key issue, along with restoring frequent Communion as in the primitive church. Changes in the pattern of worship to facilitate easier access to Communion in both kinds took place, but it didn't result in a resumption of the ancient church status quo, despite the exhortations of many reformers. 

Rather than celebrate the Eucharist with only a priest and maybe his assistant communicating,  a service of the Word became the Sunday norm for reformed churches. Several Communion Sundays were designated in the year, and these were made obligatory to attend by state if not church law.  This didn't work either. The idea of the sacrament expressing the 'sacred in the ordinary' which had been part of its Jewish origins had been corrupted by a persistent pagan idea of sacred things with magical powers. Biblical and historical scholarship made possible a return to ancient practice in the 19th century. First the Roman Catholic Church began an movement encouraging more frequent Communion, then Anglicans followed in the early 20th century with the introduction of the Parish Communion as the Sunday worship norm. After four centuries of delay the reformers' ambitions were finally realised. 

By the 1970s  radical demise of all services of the Word set in, not just due to the desire for more frequent Communion. Evening telly put an end to Parish Evensong, Matins was replaced by the Eucharist. Ironically, at the same time, decline in vocations led to fewer priests being obliged to take more Communion services. This is still the case, despite non-stipendiary and women clergy redressing the balance to some extent. The law of unintended consequences led us to a point where the church is over dependent on clergy expertise and sacramental liturgy.  

Now the pandemic has put us in a position where churches have to revert to services of the Word without sacramental communion being possible or just making people spectators of liturgical ritual, as happened before the reformation - as it may have been for maybe the greater part of Christian history. What a strange turn of affairs! Where do we go from here? If desire to attend frequent public worship and receive sacramental Communion is supplanted by habitual consumption of worship services on-line, where will this lead God's people? "In the 21st century" said Karl Rahner in my youth "Christians will either be mystics, or they will be nothing at all." I wonder what he would have made of internet consumer religion?

Well, pondering on these things and writing about them on a warm sunny day meant that it was gone three when I finally stepped out on to the terrace to start my day's walk. With more interruptions and an unexpected spell of snoozing mid-afternoon, it was after sunset before I finished. I hope I can summon enough energy to stay the course and get home. It's a bit like hitting 'the wall' when running a marathon. I've been there twice before. Glad it's forty years since then, and not my next challenge!