Friday 22 May 2020

Action at a distance

Reflecting on the importance of space, as in my last post, leads quite neatly into another church debate which has taken off on social media. Or at least on Twitter, which is the one I tend to look at. In these times of isolation, with worship being done at a distance, via live streaming, conference software, and so on, can we do Holy Communion at a distance? Is it OK for each of us to eat bread and sip wine in our own home, and in doing so partake of the eucharist?

The predominant answer seems to be no. A quite resounding no, in fact. Writing a few weeks ago in the Church Times, Angela Tilby referred to the bishop of Western Louisiana, who had initially given permission for this form of communion, but had withdrawn it, partly, apparently, because it did not fit with the Episcopalian/Anglican eucharistic theology.

This came as a bit of a surprise to me. It’s not that there is no Anglican theology of the eucharist, so much as that there are so many Anglican theologies. I’m sure an Anglican understanding of Communion could somewhere be found which would allow such a practice. Of course, the Book of Common Prayer is officially the gold standard of Anglican theology, and therein should lie the definitive theology of the eucharist for all good members of the Church of England, at least.

However, I seem dimly to recall from long ago lectures that the said theology of the BCP was debated at its first publication, and the length and volume of contradictory scholarly treatments has only grown in the succeeding centuries.

On the other hand, all is not lost. I don’t think that most theological issues really matter here. Is communion possible without a priest? Does a substantive change take place in the bread and wine? Is consecration effected by the priest alone as celebrant, or the whole congregation? Does it occur at certain words in the eucharistic prayer, or is it a process with a beginning and end, but no fixed point between? Is it a re-enactment of the sacrifice of Christ, a simple mnemonic, a bringing of the eternal act of atonement to bear on the discrete celebration of each eucharist or summat else?

Does any of this mean anything to the average worshipper?

Never mind. I’m sure it’s irrelevant to the question in hand, which is, I am convinced, primarily about space.

A eucharist takes place when Christians gather together to share bread and wine in memory of Christ. (With whatever embellishments our church tradition deems necessary.) What do we mean, though, by “together”? I suspect that in some sense, it means sharing a space. Here we need to be careful. Communion in one’s living room, and communion in Britain’s biggest cathedral (just over the river from my house) may each be seen as obvious examples of a space which can be shared for worship. The same might apply to a mass in St. Peter’s square or one of those huge gatherings in parks for papal visits etc. These are simple and obvious shared spaces.

What about spaces which exist, essentially, only in the mind? I have sat in a church hall, joining in a service which took place a good many metres away. I watched the service on a TV, joined in the hymns (probably a bit out of phase with the main body of worshippers, but who was to know?) and received communion as part of the one service, despite the barrier of walls and a car park.

There are certainly plenty of churches where the kids and their carers are hived off into another room, but who are linked by loudspeakers, or even actually isolated in “children’s church” but who are welcome back to communion as part of the gathered body. In a sense, they are, like those of us in the church hall, seen as occupying the same worship space, the same event.

The thing is, our concept of space is not about purely physical phenomena. It is about the perception of presence, of belonging. In daily life we frequently extend our sense of personal space beyond our bodies – to encompass our car, for instance, or our shopping trolley. And, of course, online, we think and speak in spatial terms which are more than simple metaphors. We “visit” websites, “enter chat rooms” (are they still a thing?) And when I join in the act of worship at my old church, via Zoom, I think of myself as being present in a real way.

So, if we can share in worship in an internet “virtual” space, why not share in communion, which binds the body of Christ together, existing as it does not in a physical space, but wherever Christ is acknowledged?

One answer might be about bread and wine. Surely the elements have to be in the same place to be blessed, and perhaps touched, and to be physically broken, Surely it is the sharing in one bread which carries much significance? Well, I don’t think so.

Some friends who trained for ordination at Mirfield, that bastion of anglo-catholic rectitude, recounted how surprised they were to find that the principal, presiding at a small eucharist in his study, sat at the opposite side of the room from the bead and wine. The words were spoken, bread was eventually broken, but the action seemed to take place at a thoroughly unseemly distance. Then again, think of those mass masses, where huge baskets of bread are blessed without being present on the communion table, or even of the many modest parish churches where individual communion wafers are blessed and distributed.

Is there a sort of spatial limit beyond which consecration cannot take place? I suspect there is not. What matters is surely the intention—that bread and wine brought to the worship space (virtual or otherwise) should be the means of grace in this sacrament.

So, in summary, if we can join for worship, prayer and even hymnody, by Wi-Fi, it seems to me logical to say that we also can share in the sacrament of holy communion.

And if that’s not heretical enough, I think one could make a similar case for doing the same with a recorded service. If we can do it with spatial separation, perhaps a temporal barrier might also be no obstacle. If it is intended that those who join in, separated by space and time are none the less included as they are included in Christ himself, it seems likely that the grace of God could still be operational! But I won’t push that suggestion further, as this post is already too long.

One final thought. On one level, this sort of debate is an in-house issue, a minor spat between churchgoing types. On another, though, it is about how open the body of Christ is. As unprecedented numbers log on to acts of worship in our present predicament, do they see a church which is fully functional and fully inclusive, or one which draws the line between the worshipper and the heart of worship? If the eucharist is indeed a converting ordinance, should it not be allowed to convert? Even the converted probably stand in need of further conversion.

(Disclaimer - the illustration arrived on a social media stream. If it is copyright, I am happy to remove it!)

Wednesday 20 May 2020

Space


Life in lockdown has caused me to reflect about space. Confined mostly to our homes, and outside them still restricted in travel and work, we have, I think, become aware of the bounds of our world in a new and pressing way. Life has come to have very clearly defined borders—the home, the trip to work or shop, an hour or so’s walk or bike ride. This has now been partially relaxed (perhaps not wisely, given our country’s lamentable death and infection rates) but spacial restrictions still apply, in some ways more obtrusively. We can go out, chat at a safe distance, but not visit those who mean the most to us.

These restrictions encourage us to find new ways to use space, for reflection, hobby, home improvement, entertainment, deepening relationships and finding tolerance and understanding.

They also has their downside, in frustration, a sense of imprisonment, worry about finances and survival itself. Mental health issues have multiplied. And tragically restricted movement has brought a new freedom to abusers of adults and children, locked away from scrutiny, and has vastly diminished their victims’ chances of escape.

It has raised issues of space for the church, as well, particularly the Church of England. Congregations can no longer meet for worship and fellowship, and in the case of the CofE, even clergy have until recently been strictly forbidden to enter their churches to pray. They could go in to check the building for insurance purposes etc., but definitely not to pray, nor to record or live stream acts of worship. Let us not ask cynical questions about priorities here....

At present, this too is being relaxed, as the bishops back-pedal and recast their dubiously legal instructions as “guidance” and now allow (sorry, advise) limited access for the purposes that the government legislation allowed all along.

We (mostly) all agree that the church is the people, not the place, and that the presence of God is what sanctifies a place. Those who have decried the retreat of the CofE “into the kitchen” (a reference to Justin Welby's broadcast worship from Lambeth Palace’s kitchen, rather than its chapel) are castigated for denigrating the domestic, and “gendering” the debate.

But this seems to miss the main point at issue. Spaces matter. Our bodies delimit us in space, and in many ways govern the way we can act in the world. We share spaces with others, in home and workplaces. Spaces define our communities, and the local areas in which we are comfortable, and those in which we are uneasy, as strangers or lost. We recognise safe p laces and danger zones.

The incarnation involves the Word of God coming into the space of his body, the space of Nazareth, of Galilee and so on. Into the danger zone of the world.

How we use spaces therefore matters. Whether we make them places of safety or danger, welcome or exclusion and above all whether we recognise them as the spaces in which we live out our discipleship. To be a follower of Christ is not about what goes on in our heads but also in the space we occupy, and the actions that we perform there.

Our homes are of course, spaces where discipleship is carried out. Prayer and worship are offered there, service is offered to members of our household (where they exist) and to neighbours, even in these spatially constrained times.

Yet the way we use wider spaces matters too. For a very long time, church buildings have occupied a place in the public space of our communities. They have been a statement that the people of Christ are active in the midst of our shared space. We belong, and have much to offer to the other inhabitants of our local space.

Certainly the danger of infection and disease transmission means that gathering for worship in our historic places of worship is a very bad idea. But to withdraw entirely, to forbid the broadcast of prayer and worship from the space that has long lain at the heart of the local community seems a backward step, a retreat into privacy, that “privatised religion” of which we have long been warned.

So I for one welcome the news that we can now be seen and heard (where bells may safely be chimed) to still be in business in the local space in which we are called to discipleship.

Of course, the church continues to be involved as disciples of Jesus in the public space. Church based food banks (tragically more necessary than ever) continue to operate. Church members, both individually and in an organised way, deliver food packages and offer support and contact to the frail or lonely. This is hugely important. And yet, for the church’s spiritual life to be seen also as part of that public, communal space surely matters more than ever.

Our local church bell chimes each evening at 7.00 p.m. with the message that prayer is being offered, there at the heart of the community, and that prayer undergirds the efforts of many local Christians to live out their faith in love and support for their neighbours.

Sunday 26 April 2020

Well, after years of being locked out of this blog, Google has finally relented and allowed me to create an account which can access it. No idea how long this will last, but here in retirement, and coronavirus lockdown, it seems worth trying to reactivate my world-shaking insights again. I'll just post this and see whether it shows up, is accessible etc.....