Dear Sisters and Brothers,
I write this on the day the Government has said that we must wear masks whenever we are in shops and other indoor spaces.
The Church has “strongly advised” us to echo that in church. I am anticipating this Sunday that some will and some will not. Masks are there to protect others from ourselves, not us from anyone infected with Coronavirus. To wear a mask in the constantly moving stream of humanity in a shop is a physical expression of love for one’s neighbour and cuts across all the rather odd language about rights, freedom and choice. Wearing a mask in church, when we are not moving around, or doing so in an ordered way, is a slightly different matter. I hope that you will feel able, as adults, to work out what it is that you want to do. We are not requiring masks in church any more than restaurants or gyms are.
That said, I am anxious about masks. Not the wearing of them, though they are uncomfortable and restricting. Not the requirement to wear them, as I have heard more than enough of what the virus does to people and have a great desire that educational and economic life can return. Not even the strange message that some appear to think, that in wearing a mask they can return to social life as before. Masks are not magic. I am anxious about masks because of how they might make us relate differently.
There are lots of statistics thrown about regarding how much of our communication relies on words and how much depends on gestures, body language, face. I am no expert, but we all know that moment when someone says “I’m fine” whilst their whole demeanour screams that they are struggling. Those of us familiar with emails and Skype and Zoom and text and even old-school snail mail (letters to you and me) will know that it is easy enough to misinterpret what is being said. Not seeing someone’s face means that we will communicate less well.
One of the joys on BBC over this period has been to watch Alan Bennett’s “Talking Heads”. Seeing some of our most impressive actors tell their character’s stories, camera paying close attention to the minute shifts in facial muscle as truth is revealed, has been a remarkable gift. I don’t know how long these things stay up but catch them if you can. They require close attention and tells us so much about how our faces betray or reinforce our words.
Our faith is founded on face-to-face communication. The Old Testament offers moments of divine mystery, like the Burning Bush Exodus (Exodus 3), Pillars of Cloud and Fire (Exodus 13), the earthquake, wind, fire and sound of sheer silence (1 Kings 19). There are none of these in the New Testament. None because in the New Testament, Jesus is present. Paul puts it this way; For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4). To see into the face of Jesus is to encounter God. Faces are the windows into the heart. Paul explores this further when he says that the follower of Jesus has an “unveiled face” (2 Cor 3. 18), a face that is not ashamed to be seen because it reveals to others what is inside our heart.
One of the things I have valued in lockdown has been seeing faces, courtesy of the internet. I have seen members of the congregation, gatherings of colleagues from around the Diocese, scattered members of my family from across the world. Seeing faces and hearing voices, that sense of being in the same room (virtually), has been rather wonderful. I am grateful to those engineers, electronic and computer, electrical and mechanical, who have made this possible. It has been a reminder that we are so dependent as a
Back to faces. Whatever you decide in terms of mask-wearing in church, what we will see of each other are our eyes (if we can negotiate the steaming up of our glasses!). Practice smiling with yours. Even if we cannot see the whole face, what we can share is our joy at each other’s presence and that reminder, from St Paul, that God channels his gracious presence to each other by word, yes, but by face too.
With love and prayers,
Julian
Rector