Dear Friends
September has arrived far too quickly and is already at and end as we welcome October into our lives. This year has sped past for me and brings back childhood memories of attempting to run up the downward moving escalator! However, despite the speed I am also thankful for some of the recent changes this year has now brought us, heralding as it does new opportunities: we have a new Bishop of Table Bay consecrated, licensed, and installed, marking a new journey for the Diocese as Bishop Joshua picks up responsibility for the daily running of Diocesan life (and in the process new neighbours at St Andrew’s); and a return to in-person worship for those brave (or insane) enough to venture out! September has also marked the Season of Creation in the Anglican Communion – which we have engaged with again this year – that does encompass our Southern Hemisphere Spring and is an important reminder of the generosity of God in the resources humanity is blessed with.
For myself these last few months of the pandemic have highlighted how much of life and personal freedom I took for granted. I realised the other day that I was experiencing similar emotional trauma to that which I experienced in the mid-1980’s when I underwent military National Service. Basics was equivalent to Alert Level 5, a total loss of freedom; and subsequent postings a bit like a move through Levels 4 to 2 as I was shifted off to Oshakati in what was then South West Africa, and then down to Simonstown (I was with the South African Medical Services), which was a breath of fresh air in comparison and returned much of the freedoms I’d lost, but not all. Level 1 could almost be described as freedom, but with the virus still active we stand in that liminal space reminiscent of Israel’s journey from Egypt towards the promised land, free but still constricted. Lockdown over the last six and more months has been a difficult journey: all that we considered normal on a global scale shifted overnight, and COVID-19 instantly created a new context that we are slowly and cautiously learning to navigate. We all respond differently to trauma, and some of us better than others. However, the reality is that we have all suffered loss in some form and need to not underestimate its effects on ourselves, on those we love, on our wider community, Nation, and global environment; and to realise we walk this road together, none of us more expert than another in negotiating this new context. I have found my relationship with God to be key to my sanity, both in the 1980’s and now in 2020, and immersion in Scripture and Prayer the cement that holds my fragile human state together. I have journeyed – as you know – this time around with Irish poet and theologian Pádraig Ó Tuama’s book, Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community. There is simplicity and healing in the words offered in Morning, Midday, and Evening Prayer in this book that have held me, comforted me, and healed me during this time. My prayer is that you, too, may have been given a similar gift.
This new context demands that we hold our plans lightly, but plan nonetheless. Normally at this time of year we are shifting into top gear for our Morning Market, and so it seems strange not to walk into an office overflowing with dropped-off donations for the market. It was fun this last weekend to join Rob, Chris, Tim and Caroline, and Jim in the Greyton Pie Run in an attempt to raise funds in a different way this year for our Ministry to The Needy Projects for next year (thank you to everyone who has supported us!), and to do that in person and shed some sweat in the process. Thank you all for keeping the Faith during this difficult time of ongoing change that the pandemic has birthed. Please continue to persevere in trust that God is with us, and that God has the best in mind for us at St Andrew’s, and in the broader context of life. A favourite verse that carried me through my National Service and that continues to be relevant comes from Jeremiah 29:11 (NRSV), “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” This was written to a community in exile, themselves struggling to navigate their new context, much like us who have been exiled for a time by the pandemic from our Church buildings, and yet are finding God faithful in a new land, and are learning to worship in different and fresh ways. Our return to our beautiful Church building has begun, slowly and strangely – a space that marks our identity, and helps define our worship and our faith. We return with the knowledge that what we thought to be indispensable to our lives and our faith has been proved dispensable, giving us the opportunity to re-embrace it differently and yet with no less devotion, knowing that in meeting God meaningfully in our homes and in the digital-virtual environment over the last half-year, that the physical experience is to be welcomed with new reverence. It is time, not to rebuild, but to re-imagine.
I close with some versicals by Pádraig Ó Tuama:
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