THIS UNBEARABLE HOLIDAY: PREVAILING | DAVID BRACEWELL

“And I tell you, you are Peter

and on this rock I will build my Church,

and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”

Matthew 16.18

Last week I got an unexpected and delightful email inviting me to be a sort of guest preacher in a streamed Pentecost service for three villages in Hampshire. I have happy memories of the vicar and his three congregations from earlier involvement with them, and I felt honoured to be invited. This was my second attempt at preaching to a computer screen and it’s not gone too well so far. In both cases, although the sermons were only fifteen minutes long, I was not able to watch to the end, it was so embarrassing. My face is what it is, but my teeth are jagged, my gestures - nose scratching, ear poking, hair ruffling – grotesque. Sue has been warning me for the last forty years but I’ve taken no notice. My friends in Hampshire who are lovely and gracious, and possibly untruthful, told me the sermon was good. So I have to believe them. Perhaps it was the content that resonated. I hope so.

But my point is that without the wretched pestilence I would never have renewed contact with those churches. Once again the evil virus produces good outcomes. The verse from the end of Joseph’s story in Genesis comes to mind: “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good.” Jesus told us that he would build his Church come hell or high water. Upon the faith, resilience, boldness, foolishness and devotion of Peter and all who follow, the Church will grow. We, the people of God, will prevail.

So the physical closure of the churches has not stopped the proclamation of the Gospel. The “Church Pastoral Aid” society has produced three booklets about how the Church is responding to the Pandemic. I started to read them eagerly but then discovering that they ran to about ninety pages I gave up. Evangelical authors can be so thorough and enthusiastic I find it quite exhausting. And the language was unpleasant: livestreaming, WhatsApp groups, Instagram, Tik Tok, Superchat and Vimeo. Here’s a sentence taken at random: “Look at Insights on Facebook and Analytics on YouTube to see what is happening during your stream. Zero-in on retention metrics.” Nonetheless, it is really good and uplifting stuff. At the beginning, the authors make the point that in the 1st century the gospel spread like wildfire across the Roman Empire because of the advanced systems of communication which made travel relatively easy. In the same way, the Internet highways in place in our times make it easy to spread the Christian good news under conditions of lockdown.

So, Sue and I know when it’s the weekend because we can tune into the Sunday service at our local church and marvel at the technological skills that enable virtual worship. Then we drop in to several other churches that we have links with in Surrey and Derbyshire and Cornwall and London and Minneapolis to see what they are up to. The contrasts in style and content are a revelation which I’ll come back to at some point. Never before have I attended church six times on a Sunday. I can feel myself becoming more holy, or pious, by the week.

So, what’s the pestilence doing for the churches? Well, it’s causing them to grow it would seem. Yann, my Hampshire vicar, tells me his Sunday congregation has quadrupled. The statistics are impressive. Jesus said, “I will build my church.” And then there’s the quality of what’s being said. Most of the sermons I’m listening to are really brief and succinct. There’s a silver lining if ever there was one! From my own two efforts in front of a screen with a time limit imposed I realised how vital it was to marshal my thoughts and say what I had to say then stop. I remember as a young curate coming into church towards the end of the morning service where the vicar was preaching and asking the verger where we were up to. Pointing to the pulpit, he said, “He’s finished but he’s not stopped.” So, I’m praying for preachers, including myself, to go on honing their thoughts. There could be a whole revolution in preaching that will reach a generation impatient with platitudes but hungry for truth. Jesus said, “I will build my church.”

Last night Sue asked our vicar, who is also our son-in-law what he would be doing the next day. The answer was, “Three pastoral walks.” Phil is a first rate pastor. So good, but often so frustrated that the mechanics of ministry eat into quality time with people. But now there is time. “Meetings” are not quite as pervasive as once they were (although Zoom is a constant threat), allowing him to do the crucial stuff of one-to-one care, especially as lockdown conditions ease. The pestilence that “stalks at night and wastes at noonday” (Psalm 91) has scored another own goal freeing us to give more time and attention to others. Even I, no longer a leader, find myself pinging emails left right and centre to people for whom I care, wanting to know how they are. Sue, ever the encourager, calls it “pestering them.” Be that as it may, attention to others, and especially the vulnerable, is on the rise. Jesus said, “I will build my church.”

This is just the tip of the iceberg of good things that are emerging. The Church of Jesus Christ, of all theological shapes and sizes (and that’s another issue, a growing sense of unity) is alive and well, creative and innovative, open for business and welcoming to all. I’ve been a bit downcast recently, but I’m feeling better already. We shall prevail!

“Almighty God,

who inspired your Apostle Saint Peter

to confess Jesus as Christ and Son of the living God:

build up your Church upon this rock,

that in unity and peace it may proclaim one truth

and follow one Lord, your Son our Saviour Christ.”