A letter from Revd Nick Bird
Friends,
Lockdown is easing, restrictions are being lifted, and Mr Johnson has promised 'significant normality' by Christmas. Is anyone else getting the feeling that there is historical precedence in all this? In his 2010 article, ‘Over by Christmas’: British popular opinion and the short war in 1914,
Stuart Hallifax suggests that predictions of peace were a 'coping strategy for both soldiers and civilians'. In the same way that WW1 was not quickly finished, almost certainly we shall still be battling Covid-19 for some time to come.
One of the most striking symptoms of the coronavirus pandemic has appeared in those who have not even caught it, and I think it is tiredness. I believe that there is a fatigue in the air caused by anxiety, isolation and loss – not even loss of loved ones, which is bad enough, but loss of possibilities. Being anxious (to make a modern day analogy) can be rather like having too many programs running on one's computer, which then slows the whole system down, and Covid-19 is a big program. Even when we are not aware of it, which is difficult in itself with the prevalence and repetition of news from all angles, it is a lurking presence at the back of our minds. So if you are weary, be kind to yourself and give yourselves a break.
But the loss of possibilities is huge. Reflecting recently, I realised that one of the pre-eminent memories of the last three months is again and again picking up my diary and rubbing out appointments, holidays, plans, meetings, social events, services, birthdays (well, the party bit anyway). Lockdown began on the day of our son's 16th birthday, and his celebrations were the first of many things that could not take place as planned. There came a point where there was nothing to look forward to, and that is profoundly affecting on the spirit. A holiday to Eastern Europe was cancelled. A visit to my ageing parents was taken out. Summer plans were shelved. For so many people, a sense of the loss of the future has been complicated by a feeling of a loss of hope. Perhaps they are the same, but maybe not.
A holiday gives months of pleasure, as we all have experienced. We enjoy the planning, dreaming and booking for a long time before we even leave the house. We enjoy the duration of the vacation (hopefully it lives up to expectation) and all that we might experience as well as escape from. And then we enjoy the memory of the experience retelling the stories, reminiscing and reliving. Then it all gets cancelled and it feels like hope is abandoned.
However, what this does do it to remind me what a luxury and privilege it is to have things in the diary to look forward to. That is such a First World problem. How many of us have no markers in our weeks, moments in our months or highs in our year to look ahead to with anticipation? We all need to have something to look forward to – a Sunday gathering is as much a social event for many as it is sacred, and I do well to remember that. But even in, what we might naively believe to be the mundanity of, years gone by there would always have been a calendar of feasts and festivals. Before heading off to Ibiza for two weeks each year became normal, Christmas, Easter, May Day, Harvest and many other celebrations populated our diaries, not because they are necessary to celebrate, but because we needed them to look forward to.
I hope that we might rediscover both the joy and significance of the planned future event. Nothing will be over by Christmas. But celebrations, both great and small, are so important for us all, and the more local and neighbourly the better. Scientists can give us the science, but it is for priests and politicians to find us reasons for hope.
Nick Bird
your Rector