And so the lockdown goes on. This week’s minor relaxations have seen a lot more people out and about and some returning to work. It’s been a week of confusion over what we can and cannot do (and don’t get me started on how that fits in with what we should and shouldn’t do). It’s been a slight easing which has hinted at more to come. But the world is still a very, very long way from being back to normal. With social distancing still the operative buzzword there’s no chance of churches opening their doors just yet. I suppose even the shops and pubs would be open first.
This will be the ninth post I’ve placed on my ‘looking at churches and the people in them’ blog with neither a church nor any people. No wonder then that I find myself wondering if now is the time to reach for the Back Soon signs.
Of course isolation itself plays a part in many religions - and certainly in the lives of those who choose to dedicate more than just each Friday lunchtime, Sabbath or Sunday morning to their followings. The Book of Saints lists many a hermit living out a truly solitary existence in cave or cell, and there are just as many Buddhists or Hindus taking vast unaccompanied walks into the lonely landscape of self-discovery. I could perhaps follow in their metaphorical footsteps and use this isolated time to ponder everything from existence to meaning and then present my findings to this blog. I’ve certainly used the invocation to daily exercise and an excuse to head out for long solitary walks on which I have little to do other than think. But my theories would be no better-informed and certainly no more interesting than anyone else’s. So I won’t even start down that route.
When I started this blog at the end of 2018 it was with the intention, among others, of taking a closer look at what other people do when it comes to worship. During the time since I’ve been lucky enough to watch very different groups of people doing very different things all aiming, roughly, in the one direction. I never intended this loosely-termed pilgrimage to be a path toward any kind of enlightenment on my part; it’s not a search for the almighty. It was just curiosity and a spur to myself to get out and about more. And that’s why this current break in visits is so crippling. Because at the moment there re no people to go and watch and no places in which to go and watch them.
I’ve explored a little of what churches have to offer during this isolation period and it’s been truly inspiring to see how people have managed to keep connecting from their homes. But it’s not the same. I’ve read of congregations that the people make the church; I’ve read too of churches which inspire those who visit them to encounter fresh truths. Both are probably true, but with neither currently available it’s all a bit bleak.
There has been a lot of talk about the concept of the ‘new normal’. With the likelihood of the virus being conclusively beaten soon receding all the time, it’s certain we’re going to have to carry at least some of these new things we’ve been doing into whatever post-lockdown life we might arrive at. Social distancing, face masks, not touching and so on may well become the everyday facts of life. And that will have a huge impression on what happens with churches and other places of worship. You have to wonder of many of the older generation, still at risk from this virus, will actually feel like going back at all.
I hope they do. And I hope I shall be there to watch them and share their thoughts. The value of sharing time, space and experience with others is never more apparent than when it is absent.
