Normal service?

The title of this blip refers, of course, to the weather we had today - the grey sky, the vigorous southerly wind scattering petals hither and yon, the rain dripping down the widows all seemed more ordinary than the warm, even hot sunny weather that's been making life pleasant even in the circumstances. 

But even as I wrote it it struck me that there are other aspects of 'normal service' that are in the news today. I'm not talking about the random cutting of distancing rules from two metres to one in England. I'm talking about the repeated assertions on the news that "places of worship are open for private prayer." It strikes me as crazy in a post-Christian society that this should be talked about as if it's something everyone should know, given the tiny number of people who would think of taking the opportunity for a quick prayer in a church. (I'm aware it applies to other faiths as well, but I'm sticking to what I know). As far as I'm concerned, churches are large buildings for a purpose: they are meant for corporate religious activity. Public worship, not private prayer. Yes, for sure, they are good places to feel the strength of prayer over the years, they tend, in my own tradition at least, to have some visual aids to worship on which to focus. But for most of us, churches are where we go to come together as God's people, and until this is possible without the danger of passing infection to a bunch of vulnerable people - for many, many of the people in these churches are, quite frankly, old - it seems like a placebo to declare that this private activity is now possible. 

I'm a church musician. Sure, I'm also a lay preacher, but I came to faith through music, singing Byrd and Palestrina in a beautiful building. Singing, of course, has been denounced as a great spreader of the Covid_19 virus, and is therefore not to be done in church just now. And there will, of course, be no sharing of Communion for (quite literally ) God knows how long. There are the two things I want in church. I can pray anywhere, but I can't feel part of a worshipping community anywhere, and I can't add my voice to creating the music that says more to me of God than many a preacher.

This is in danger of becoming something needing nailed to a church door. I'll just add one thing for the reader to whom this is all fairytale nonsense: I have never felt the lack of God because I can't get into my church building. The wilderness, after all, is where Jesus went to pray; I think he might have had something to say about this piecemeal approach. It's a distraction, and it upsets the vulnerable. 

And after all that rain and wind and thought  I needed comfort food, so I'm blipping tonight's dinner: chilli with brown rice and a sprinkling of coriander. Tomorrow is another day - with, I think, that pesky weather front lying draped right over Argyll. Deep joy ...