Nothing comes to life except first it dies, the Apostle Paul
reminds us, and over the last fifteen months like so many other churches (and organisations
generally), while it has not died, Swanvale Halt church has been ground down
close to it. In March and April 2020 we existed in no more substantial form than
me saying the mass on my own in a bedroom and an invisible web of prayer across
the parish. Now we face the task of rebuilding, reconstructing activities and
relationships which have dwindled or been impossible. Decisions between priorities
are forced on us by our remaining resources both financial and human: my plan
for resuming worship supposes having a crucifer as well as a server, and
eventually a full serving team, but we now have only three people who can act
as crucifer at all. What’s best and more encouraging: for more people to remain
in the congregation, or for them to see more souls participating in the
liturgy? We will need a determined concentration on what does the mission of
the church most good rather than what we are used to doing, and some things are
already falling by the wayside as the people who used to run them decide that
they no longer can. For us, as for so much else in society, the pandemic has
accelerated developments which were already underway.
Yet there is a great deal to be encouraged by. Our curate
may have left, but it looks as though over the course of a few months the church
will have acquired two retired priests, a lay reader, and an occasional
preacher, as well as a variety of souls whose experiences and abilities promise
to be very useful. We will have a revamped and explicitly evangelistic non-eucharistic
service to add to the mix, and I will be a better pastor to the organisers
within the church and the souls on the edge. So I tell myself: and one has to
cultivate hope!
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