Room for repentance?

Just after posting the link today's video offering of Morning Prayer, I had a call to stand in for Mother Frances at the St John's Eucharist, as she'd fallen and bruised herself badly. There were eight of us for the celebration, and all were concerned to hear of this misfortune, following on from the loss of her partner last month. 

The Gospel of the day contained the Publican's prayer - Lord have mercy on me a sinner - which prompted me to reflect how little penitence finds a place in the church's engagement with society these days. There's now an overlay on the Sunday lectionary and calendar of saints days of worthy themes for celebration and reflection but outside of Lent calls to collective repentance and liturgical expressions of penitence no longer feature, as they did in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries/ Not even Cranmer's Litany. which in former centuries preceded the Sunday Eucharist gets used often these days. I think we're missing something. Are we that uncomfortable with mourning the sorry state affairs the world is in, and beseeching God's mercy?

I learned that the Church in Wales electoral college is meeting at the moment to choose a new Bishop for the diocese of Swansea and Brecon. Who will it be, I wonder? I'm so out of touch with mainstream church affairs that I have no idea who the likely candidates might be. Did the electoral college pray the Litany before starting their deliberations?

After the service I returned home and worked on the audio recording for next Thursday's Morning Prayer, and after cooking lunch, completed the job. I didn't need a siesta, and went for a walk around the park earlier than usual. This meant I had time before supper to watch a French flic movie on More Four. 

I went to choir practice at St Catherine's, although I'm not going to be around to sing very much in the coming months, but wanted to sing anyway. It seems that special kind of energy to make music which I didn't have over the past three years is returning. I'm very glad about this very special sign of healing.

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.