a little help
My bishop held a drinks party last week. Over 70 of us, mostly clergy and spouses, attended. It was good to see people. Smiling faces. A few of us performed party pieces. I sang a song.
I sang - 'We'll Meet Again'.
Of course I did. The whole event was conducted on Zoom.
I'm the kind of person who, in normal circumstances, loves to come home at night and close my door on the world. I'm home now. I have my space. My silence. My safety. I live alone, with my dog, and I am used to being by myself. It holds great comfort.
Except...
Normal has changed.
I no longer come home at night after a day of people making all sorts of demands on me. Silence and being by myself isn't a refuge anymore, it's everything. And I discover - I was not made for this. It is not good for man to be alone, notes God at the beginning of Genesis.
No kidding.
And from the solitude of our enforced space behind our front door barricades, it seems quite a few of us are spoiling for a fight or two.
Some clergy are moaning about church buildings being closed. There are a multitude of reasons for the protests - from the sacramental nature of our church buildings to the general retreat from public space this indicates. Private religion. Others take this crew to task for showing disobedience to bishops and a lack of care for the welfare of fellow human beings. Being bad examples.
It was inevitable as COVID-19 became our sole public discourse that Living in Love and Faith, the House of Bishops' commission on human identity, sexuality and marriage would reach a point at which it would delay publication. Those of us on the inside became aware of meetings that were being cancelled, of deadlines that were shifting, of the postponement of Lambeth 2020 and the likely postponement of the July 2020 General Synod. LLF was next.
Those of us involved in the commission are also very aware that the publication of the work of LLF is not in any way meant to be a new 'final word' on the Church's attitude to LGBT+ people. It's supposed to be a beginning to a new and very public engagement across the church. At a time when many in the church (in life!) are feeling distanced - Zoom really does not replace an in person gathering - very public engagement simply can't happen just now. Publishing LLF at this point will make it feel like we are telling people 'this is what you believe' when everything we have done is to enable the church to use a resource to say to bishops, clergy, each other 'this helps, but actually, this is what we believe.'
So timing matters. (Though I'd quite have liked one of the LGBT+ people on the commission to have been asked to co-sign the delaying order...just to look like we were involved in this!)
The important thing is: we are all dealing with trauma in 2020. We are all, daily, facing a world where 'normal' feels like it has no regular reference point and where we all want to kick out at the things beyond our control, because almost everything is beyond our control. 'Next Day Delivery' can take weeks. Sometimes we complain about that just because - just because we need someone to hear that life right now isn't OK.
And that's important.
Life right now isn't OK.
But sounding off on the web about closed church buildings, or taking the postponement of LLF as yet more proof positive that the Church will never actually help LGBT+ people, isn't the answer. It isn't.
I mean, it's OK to say these things - please - but only if we realise that the words we are using are actually saying something else.
Because these days put a perspective on life that takes us all away from the smaller worlds we normally inhabit. Smaller worlds which are often genuinely important - only, not today.
COVID-19 doesn't care if I'm gay or my neighbour is straight. The world it has made us live in doesn't care that I don't like living alone or that my neighbours are struggling to cope as a family without any relief from each other. It makes all theology of church buildings irrelevant, and the timing of when equal marriage will be a possibility in church has got pushed back because right now no marriage is possible in church.
Life right now isn't OK.
Although the things that push me over the edge, that make me not cope and make me cry out may be different to those that press the buttons of others (seriously, you probably didn't find yourself breaking down in tears when your village shopkeeper told you he was closing the store for a while) - the truth is: all our responses are a bit off just now. And probably more than 'a bit' off.
Life right now isn't OK.
And one of the gifts that some of us ought to have learned, and some of us have learned, and some of us have seen in some amazing people dear to us, is that - as Proverbs says - a kind word turns wrath away.
Don't get cross with someone who says something stupid. Someone who loses it. Someone who is patently, clearly, obviously wrong.
Allow them to live in the same world we're all living in today.
Be kind.
Be as kind to them as you'd love them to be kind to you if you ever lost it and said or emailed or posted online something you shouldn't. (Even if you were right.)
I've no idea when LLF will get its act together, and if when it does it will do the job I really, really hope it will.
But I am pretty confident that in the meantime all of us will get by, with a little help from our friends.
Especially that Friend who is always with us, showering us with kindness and grace, weeping when we weep, rejoicing when we rejoice, standing with us when we fall, raising us up when we feel no-one else understands us at all and everything is lost.
With a little help.
A little kindness.
A little grace.
We'll get by.
Of course I did. The whole event was conducted on Zoom.
I'm the kind of person who, in normal circumstances, loves to come home at night and close my door on the world. I'm home now. I have my space. My silence. My safety. I live alone, with my dog, and I am used to being by myself. It holds great comfort.
Except...
Normal has changed.
I no longer come home at night after a day of people making all sorts of demands on me. Silence and being by myself isn't a refuge anymore, it's everything. And I discover - I was not made for this. It is not good for man to be alone, notes God at the beginning of Genesis.
No kidding.
And from the solitude of our enforced space behind our front door barricades, it seems quite a few of us are spoiling for a fight or two.
Some clergy are moaning about church buildings being closed. There are a multitude of reasons for the protests - from the sacramental nature of our church buildings to the general retreat from public space this indicates. Private religion. Others take this crew to task for showing disobedience to bishops and a lack of care for the welfare of fellow human beings. Being bad examples.
It was inevitable as COVID-19 became our sole public discourse that Living in Love and Faith, the House of Bishops' commission on human identity, sexuality and marriage would reach a point at which it would delay publication. Those of us on the inside became aware of meetings that were being cancelled, of deadlines that were shifting, of the postponement of Lambeth 2020 and the likely postponement of the July 2020 General Synod. LLF was next.
Those of us involved in the commission are also very aware that the publication of the work of LLF is not in any way meant to be a new 'final word' on the Church's attitude to LGBT+ people. It's supposed to be a beginning to a new and very public engagement across the church. At a time when many in the church (in life!) are feeling distanced - Zoom really does not replace an in person gathering - very public engagement simply can't happen just now. Publishing LLF at this point will make it feel like we are telling people 'this is what you believe' when everything we have done is to enable the church to use a resource to say to bishops, clergy, each other 'this helps, but actually, this is what we believe.'
So timing matters. (Though I'd quite have liked one of the LGBT+ people on the commission to have been asked to co-sign the delaying order...just to look like we were involved in this!)
The important thing is: we are all dealing with trauma in 2020. We are all, daily, facing a world where 'normal' feels like it has no regular reference point and where we all want to kick out at the things beyond our control, because almost everything is beyond our control. 'Next Day Delivery' can take weeks. Sometimes we complain about that just because - just because we need someone to hear that life right now isn't OK.
And that's important.
Life right now isn't OK.
But sounding off on the web about closed church buildings, or taking the postponement of LLF as yet more proof positive that the Church will never actually help LGBT+ people, isn't the answer. It isn't.
I mean, it's OK to say these things - please - but only if we realise that the words we are using are actually saying something else.
Because these days put a perspective on life that takes us all away from the smaller worlds we normally inhabit. Smaller worlds which are often genuinely important - only, not today.
COVID-19 doesn't care if I'm gay or my neighbour is straight. The world it has made us live in doesn't care that I don't like living alone or that my neighbours are struggling to cope as a family without any relief from each other. It makes all theology of church buildings irrelevant, and the timing of when equal marriage will be a possibility in church has got pushed back because right now no marriage is possible in church.
Life right now isn't OK.
Although the things that push me over the edge, that make me not cope and make me cry out may be different to those that press the buttons of others (seriously, you probably didn't find yourself breaking down in tears when your village shopkeeper told you he was closing the store for a while) - the truth is: all our responses are a bit off just now. And probably more than 'a bit' off.
Life right now isn't OK.
And one of the gifts that some of us ought to have learned, and some of us have learned, and some of us have seen in some amazing people dear to us, is that - as Proverbs says - a kind word turns wrath away.
Don't get cross with someone who says something stupid. Someone who loses it. Someone who is patently, clearly, obviously wrong.
Allow them to live in the same world we're all living in today.
Be kind.
Be as kind to them as you'd love them to be kind to you if you ever lost it and said or emailed or posted online something you shouldn't. (Even if you were right.)
I've no idea when LLF will get its act together, and if when it does it will do the job I really, really hope it will.
But I am pretty confident that in the meantime all of us will get by, with a little help from our friends.
Especially that Friend who is always with us, showering us with kindness and grace, weeping when we weep, rejoicing when we rejoice, standing with us when we fall, raising us up when we feel no-one else understands us at all and everything is lost.
With a little help.
A little kindness.
A little grace.
We'll get by.
Beautifully put, Marcus, and something I needed this afternoon. God bless you and the dog!
ReplyDeleteThis is a powerful piece of writing, Marcus. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and reminding us how life in Christ is about love. With some listening, waiting, hoping and plenty of room for hope. I shall continue to pray for open hearts, open ears and a willingness on the part of all of us in the Church of England to really seek God’s truth, instead of getting caught up in judgement. I do know we need ministers who will cry, ask tough questions, be themselves and share their journey of faith , pointing people to a heavenly father who has given everything to show they matter. We all matter.
ReplyDelete