COVID Thirty-Two

Honestly, one day I will skip my morning run. It’s not as though I enjoy it; it’s just become part of how my day begins, and does help me understand myself to be taking care of my body (along with, marginally, eating more deliberately).
This was not that morning. Woke up, pulled myself together, warmed up, ran my mile in the 7° breezes (felt chillier than that), and got home in 9:47. My joints were rusty and resistant at first, but the whole mile went smoothly. Still deliberating about a possible longer route.

After Morning Prayer and breakfast, I spent the morning reading Newman and browsing the web, alternately. The Web, of course, won out, largely because of the Times’s publication of its article on how the Conservative government squandered 38 days of warnings about the coronavirus pandemic.

We went to Mass at All Saints, Margaret Street at noon, before lunch. Margaret had prayed the Office at St Martin’s Ruislip earlier in the morning, as is her wont.

In the afternoon, I noticed that Fr Los the Skald applied D&D 5E rules on the range of a Blessing spell to on-going headaches about online sacramentality. This reminded me of my ‘Digital Benediction’ paper from 2003, where I used the same reference source except the original AD&D edition (cause I faded out of D&D in the early eighties). I wanted to dig up the link to add to the Twitter thread, but as it turns out, I did not post the text of that paper online.KipLog blogs about the conference, but doesn’t describe my paper, though I’m in a couple of the photos. (I did resuscitate some of my own pages from the Digital Genres conference, but no notes on my talk.) [Anne Galloway observed ‘AKMA pointed out that our identities are always already constituted non-substantially; this is not new, we just notice it more in our ‘net practices. He spoke of “identities we type ourselves into” and asked how we might represent our physical bodies online.’] No ‘Digital Benediction’ file in my archives so far as I can tell. So that lets the air out of my planned ‘Back in olden days before you could even spell ‘benediction’… rant. And Los the Skald probably could spell ‘benediction’ in May of 2003. All of that burned some significant time, though.

I then spent more time with Newman’s biblical writings with a view to a module I’ll be teaching next year, if we’re actually teaching next year. Margaret made a splendid vegan dinner, and, of course, Spooks.

COVID World, Day Thirty-One

So, the government has indicated its expectation that we’ll remain locked down for another three weeks at the least. Although we’re getting a bit restive with our confinement, the risk of contracting the plague impresses us enough that we can’t foresee breaking out of lockdown even when the state permits us to. We can wait until the hospitals have cleared the overdemand for beds, especially ICU beds — and even longer, if there’s the prospect of a vaccine.

This morning dawned rainy and chill, so I frittered away forty-five minutes or so (not pure frittering, since it gave occasion for me to remember our friend Jonathon Delacour), at which point the rain seemed to have moved past. I started away on my warm-up exercises in 8° made chillier by the breezes and, in short order, a return of the rain. Apparently the unpleasant weather provided an incentive to keep moving, as I got home in another 9:45. Then after a short interval, back out to the grocers’ to get this morning’s Times and some soy milk. I put the soy milk to work fulfilling Margaret’s request for eggy toast, then spent some time exploring public domain copies of Hooker’s Laws. Reaching a satisfaction on the multiplicity of options available, I turned instead to reading more Newman. This in turn led me to transcribing part of Newman’s Via Media of the Anglicans, which occupied the remainder of afternoon, save for a delightful visit from the Greatest Grandson in the World (and his parents). Pizza for dinner, more Spooks, and time to sleep.

COVID World, Day Thirty

This makes a full month of quarantine. My low-level anxiety and distraction remain — I don’t expect that to change any time soon — but apart from that, each day resembles an ordinary home-based reading/writing day out of term time. We were urged to keep journals through the plague lockdown, but honestly, life hasn’t offered remarkable events or feelings to record. Posterity: if you’re reading this, I apologise for letting you down.

Morning broke at 8°, though it felt cooler than that. My legs were a bit achey and reluctant, but the mile came in at a satisfactory 9:54.

Hot breakfast, then to work reading and perhaps some writing. Along with reading about Newman, I’m looking backward at biblical hermeneutics in the Church of England, for which I’ll consider first Augustine’s de Doctrina just because it’s always worth re-reading, then something from pre-Reformation England, I think, then Cranmer’s Homily and Preface, some Hooker, [gap of several hundred years that wants bridging], Coleridge, the Colenso controversy, Newman (Tract 85 and more). I’ll be preparing digital editions of such works as are in the public domain as a way of reading closely, and will be writing all this up in an article, and inwardly digesting it for the monograph.

I’ve also taken a look at Mark Forsyth’s The Elements of Eloquence, upon which I don’t remember how I stumbled. It’s a readable, if annoyingly self-satisfied, introduction to rhetorical tropes, one of those disposable books that attracts attention for one buying season and then drops out of circulation. It’s conveniently and cheaply available for Kindle and in paperback from Iconbooks (US/UK). My attention to it arises from my interest in having a painless manual of rhetoric for preaching students, and this may do the job.

Reading through Newman, and then for the late morning and afternoon finishing up and checking a PDF of his essay ‘On the Inspiration of Scripture’ with the pamphlet ‘What is of Obligation for a Catholic to Believe concerning the Inspiration of the Canonical Scriptures’that he wrote as a reply to a hostile response by Prof. Healy of Maynooth.

Battered broad beans, corn and broccoli for dinner, and Spooks for entertainment — in which, this time, they actually did confront and fend off a pandemic caused by a secret bioweapon. In this case, of course, there was an even more secret vaccine, so our heroes suffered only one casualty… or so it seems.

COVID World Day Twenty-Nine

Clear morning, 4°, and my mile came in at 9:38. Fruit for breakfast plus a consolatory crumpet.

The rest of the morning and afternoon I spent reading, with wee breaks for lunch, for squandering time and attention on the internet, and following up on some email. Very at-home day. Margaret made a sort of breakfast hash for dinner, and we ended the day with more Spooks. They can solve most international incidents in 55 minutes, 110 minutes for complicated crises, but they haven’t fended off any pandemics.

COVID World, Day Twenty-Eight

Another cold morning, though not so windy. 3°, and straight ahead 9:45 mile. I made an early foray to Sainsbury’s for supplies, then indulged in my full home breakfast (two eggs, two hash brown patties, two rashers of faux bacon) instead of my more abstemious fruit mornings.

As far as the rest of the day goes, though, Margaret and I continued with more of the same, reading and writing, although I spent a bit of time responding to visitors who followed links to my ‘Streams and Places’ post from Facebook and Twitter. Defrosted bhajis, samosas, and pakora for dinner, then more Spooks.

COVID World, Day Twenty-Seven

Another optional day, another run. I don’t like running, but it’s become routine, and that alone carries me through. One of these days I’ll begin taking a longer path, but I haven’t quite figured how to proceed — directly to a 1.4 mile course, or by steps via a 1.2 mile course. Anyway, today we a cold 3°. The time for today (9:45) is irregular, since I stopped a couple of times to take photos and restarted.

Morning Rose

For the rest of the morning I worked on my Newman reading, with some time set aside for refining my book proposal.

House Crow (Corvus splendens)

My afternoon went by in the same way: Newman and proposal. Margaret made her personal recipe gluten-free crepes and veg with cheese (usually with cashew milk sauce for a pure vegan meal, but we’re out of cashew at the moment). Spooks.

COVID World, Day Twenty-Six

I had given myself permission to skip a day’s run on Easter Day, but I decided to go ahead, that I might as well just run; afterall, I was anticipating a big Easter breakfast. I considered very briefly the option of not running this morning as well, but again decided to run even though today was a fruit breakfast day. The weather was noticeably cooler (6°) and grey, blustery, and one could feel impending rain in the air. 10:00.

Most of the rest of the day was uneventful: reading Newman, internet browsing, talking with Margaret. We’re both in fine health as our soft quarantine approaches a month’s duration. I spent some concentrated effort revising the book proposal for my monograph; this is a hard part of the process, since it’s not visibly advancing page count or word count, but it’s a vital precondition for actually selling the thing (and for me to have a more orderly view of the project as a whole). My editor approved the revisions, with a helpful suggestion for a next step.

Pizza for dinner, and Spooks.

Easter Day, COVID 25

Happy Easter!

I had been planning on giving myself a day off running, since I’d run every day of Lent (note for sticklers: I missed out three days when Margaret and I went to Wells for the first weekend of Lent; Margaret had said strictly ‘There are no miles in Wells.’ But I had run every day for several days before Ash Wednesday, so that covers the missing days, plus I ran on Sundays, which are feasts). When I arose this morning, though, it just seemed to be the thing to do, especially since I was planning on a big Easter breakfast. So I set off in clear 10° weather, my joints protesting mightily during warm-up, but functioning agreeably once I buckled down and started my mile (9:47).

Then Margaret and I began a morning of watching and listening to Easter Sunday services: a recording of Easter Sunday last year from Christ Church, New Haven, our spiritual base camp in the States; the Eucharist for Easter Day from St Mary’s Chalgrove with St Helen’s Berrick Salome (for whom I recorded the sermon); and All Saints, Margaret Street. All that piety works up an appetite, so I had a delicious avocado and cheese sandwich (there goes our future home), and after a while some crisps. As an Easter indulgence, I frittered away the afternoon on the internet.

Now dinner, and Spooks, and an early night.

On Streams and Places

There’s been an almighty stramash in the past week or so concerning the importance or insignificance of praying from church buildings when videocasting services. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York forbid it; the Government allows it (and the Roman Catholic Church practises it); and various parties (myself include) have exchanged heated words about the proprieties and legalities involved.

In my very firm advocacy of clergy being permitted access to the churches in which they [ordinarily] minister, I want to make sure that several things remain clearly in sight. First, that I don’t suppose that my theology of sacraments or space should be binding on anybody; if someone else holds to a different ecclesiology, or to a catholic-minded theology but a different assessment of law or epidemiology or whatever, they should by all means follow their consciences. Second, as a catholic-minded theologian, I take as given certain theological premises in thinking out my response to these events — but I don’t assume anyone else takes those premises for granted.

Now, down to business: I cannot see any theological, legal, epidemiological, or any other rationale for forbidding a solitary priest going into an adjacent church to videorecord a service of worship. I can see many reasons why many people might disapprove of that, or wouldn’t care, but their disapprobation doesn’t bind my hypothetical protagonist’s conduct, any more than a member of the Society of Friends might disapprove of Solemn High Mass at St Peter’s Basilica without His Holiness the Pope experiencing pangs of doubt. Different premises lead to different conclusions. If you don’t believe in the sanctity of particular places, if you perceive the high altar at St John the Evangelist Church as in no wise different to your kitchen counter (except perhaps less well adapted for chopping vegetables), it’s entirely reasonable for you to think that closing up churches and videocasting from your parlour solves several problems all at one go. (I can think of reasons to hold up against that conclusion, based solely on arguments that derive their force from circumstances not affected by the premises you stipulate, but I won’t press them here.)

By the same token, then, I ask that you observe the analogous reasoning when you consider my plaidoyer in behalf of permitting clergy to pray in and to videocast from their churches. Nobody is endangered by this practice; if the cleric is alone in videorecording and praying, to whom could they transmit the virus? One can’t say that the cleric is endangering themself by being alone in the church, or one would have to close down the church building altogether for health and safety reasons. Manifestly, many parishioners and other would-be viewers find this practice important. Some long at least to see familiar architecture and furnishing when they’re barred from entering their spiritual homes. Some regard the physical characteristics of the setting, the various appliances, ornaments, and affordances of the church building constitute a significant element of their experience of worship. I can imagine a practical churchwarden wanting to call attention to the beauty of the church, such that casual videostream viewers might someday be moved to have a look-in at the church they admired online. (I have not myself recorded or livestreamed worship services during this pandemic save the sermon to which I alluded in my other post of the day, which (you may note) did not involve any in-church footage.) Whatever the reason, the disciple who finds value in participating in worship videostreamed from a church building is not ipso facto an idolater, a hidebound conservative, a heretic, a threat to Western civilisation, or any other such characterisation.

In other words, if your manner of worship works as well — or better — in a secondary-school gymnasium as in a centuries-old church building, God bless you and encourage you to worship in the gym (or wherever you like). And if mine is better suited to a specific architectural context, why may I not exercise my theologically-grounded conviction that this is the most fitting way to praise God and offer the sacraments?

The Archbishop of Canterbury offers five reasons for closing churches altogether, even to those responsible for their oversight and upkeep. First, to set an example to all other people whom the government urges to stay at home. Now, this doesn’t apply to the number of clergy whose homes are (for exactly this sort of reason) physically connected to or proximate with the churches they oversee. It makes no sense to say ‘Give a good example by not going into your second bedroom’ or ‘Don’t go into the shed at the end of your garden during the lockdown.’ If so very many people were aching to get into our church buildings, we would probably have an inkling of it by now.

Second, the Archbishop says, ‘The second reason is that part of the church’s role is to be with people. The church building is a building, the Church is the people of God…’. I struggle to find any coherence to this point. A minister videostreaming from their kitchen is not more ‘with people’ than one streaming from a church. The whole point of the lockdown is to not be with people, and if videostreaming affects that at all, it affects it no differently if done from the setting of a church than of a sitting room. His Grace goes on to say, ‘…when we don’t go to the church building we go back to what we did in the early centuries of the Church and what churches all around the world do at present, which is we meet in homes, just family and household…’. Again, the sense of this eludes me. In the first instance, staying home with our families isn’t what early Christians, or most contemporary Christians, do at all. (Fr Peter Anthony has prepared an informative video talk on the worship life of the early church, for those interested.) I mean Yes, some church groups meet in households — but these are specifically groups coming together from other homes, not the same old residents you eat, sleep, shelter, and shop with. And yet again, if the ‘meeting’ part of the claim means ‘meeting by digital media,’ then it ought to apply equally to church buildings as to walk-in closets. He concludes this thought ‘we use the wonders of technology to be in touch with each other, but we recover the sense that Jesus says, “Where two or three are gathered in my name I am there with them.” And they don’t even actually to be physically gathered, virtually gathered does very well indeed. Jesus is quite up-to-date on this stuff.’ As I’ve said three times already (‘What I tell you three times is true’), the whole point of videocasting from a church is to use ‘the wonders of technology’ to make possible a participation in worship that the present pandemic (and the decision of the bishops) makes impossible, wherever the setting of that worship. This is not an argument for closing church buildings; it’s top to bottom a red herring.

Third, Archbishop Justin says ‘it’s about sharing in the inconveniences, the restrictions, the isolations imposed on us.’ I can attest, and I know that many of my clergy siblings can attest, that videorecording oneself without help is not evading an inconvenience, it’s taking on a massive inconvenience. If the Archbishop sets as a goal ‘sharing inconvenience’, then videocasting from a church qualifies in spades. Oh, but also ‘It’s about being part of the flock rather than some super special category that can go and do its own thing.’ Apparently clergy who videocast worship from a church rather than from a box room do so because they perceive themselves to be ‘some super special category,’ ‘doing their own thing.’ (At this point, I cannot help envisioning the late James Brown as a vicar, and honestly I’d be very interested to see him videocast Evensong.) (Yes, I do know that the Isley Brothers made ‘It’s Your Thing’ a hit. I was listening to it on my transistor radio before you were born.) Some people in so speaking would be indulging in a cheap appeal to anticlericalism, but since the Archbishop of Canterbury mustn’t being doing that, he must have some other point in view. I will continue searching for it.

Fourth, ‘we need to remember that the Church of England is the Church for England’; ‘there is the sense you’re there for everyone. And if you’re there for everyone, it means you have to think about everyone. You have to be available in whatever way is best.’ The relevance of this claim to the possibility of videocasting from a church building remains murky. Presumably, he means something along the lines of ‘If people view your videostream and recognise that you’re in a church building, that implies that you are less accessible than if they can tell you’re at home.’ Further, he points out that the NHS has said to stay home — but again, my case rests on the circumstance of a cleric who lives on the grounds already. (There’s a different, and only slightly less compelling, case for clergy who live apart from their church using the church building, but I won’t dilute my point here by introducing that at this stage.) A vicar who videocasts alone from the church is no more or less accessible than is a vicar who videocasts from the sofa, and (in the case in view) no greater a risk to public health, until the NHS insists that nobody go to their garden sheds, or that all should stop exercising altogether.

Finally, ‘it’s not just about us you know, the believers, it’s about everyone, it’s about being welcoming in every way we can.’ I think this implies that videocasting from a church is intrinsically unwelcoming, a claim which if he holds true, will set the cat among the pigeons at Synod, since it would tend to imply that a truly welcoming Church of England must divest itself of all church buildings and operate out of disused warehouses, vacant storefronts, gymnasiums, and off-duty theatres. I think all of these are fine places to worship, by the way, especially if one has no convenient alternative better suited to Christian worship according to the discipline of the Church of England. I would resist the idea, though, that we should auction off St Paul’s in the near future.

Most of what Archbishop Justin said makes much more sense if one adopts an ecclesiology that holds not just that ‘the Church is the people of God’, but that the church better reflects God’s will for the people when they worship in non-specific surroundings. To such an outlook, church buildings truly are an impediment. It must frustrate people greatly that England has so many of them, so conveniently situated, built specifically for the purpose of Christian worship, without which Christian worship might prosper abundantly.

Now, granted all of the above, this is my concluding point: I don’t require (nor would I if I had authority over… well, anything, which I don’t) that Christians who object to church buildings should have to use them, or even feel happy about other people using them. Those who prefer worshipping in gyms should feel entirely free so to do. I’ll defend them with as much breath as I have left after I catch COVID-19 and, I dare hope, recover. Is it too much to ask that those Christians who hold to a carefully developed, longstanding tradition of appreciating churches and cathedrals as settings for Christian worship might be accorded the same encouragement?

COVID World, Day Twenty-Four

This morning’s mile went smoothly, temperature about 11°, adequately limber. I didn’t feel especially great, but the time came in at 9:35 (personal record, by a good long chalk). Then I made a quick foray to Sainsbury’s for the Times, and home for a couple of oranges and coffee.

In the morning and afternoon I read and browsed the Net. I think there must have been something else, but I can’t call it to mind. Our Holy Saturday dinner was leftover soup, and we watched some Spooks.

COVID World, Day 23 / Good Friday

Morning run was all right: 9:55, 10°, nothing very special. Today being a fast day, I had my minimalist breakfast of one apple and one tangerine, said my Office and set to reading Newman.

My hair is getting (for me) long. When I look in the mirror, my appearance reminds me of the passage in Jim Bouton’s Ball Four when he notes that his outfielder colleague Steve Hovley had attracted the nickname ‘Tennis Ball Head’ because his hair reminded his teammates of a fuzzy sphere (March 17, for those who want to look it up at home). I can’t illustrate this with a snapshot of Steve Hovley sans cap, cos baseball players aren’t usually photographed without their uniform, but trust me on this.

In the afternoon I read more, had a bit of a treasure hunt for lost items, and drafted a response to the editor with whom I’m corresponding about my monograph. Soup for dinner, and Spooks.

COVID World, Day Twenty-Two

This marks three solid weeks we’ve spent in mostly-isolation (save mile runs, exercise walks, and at-distance talk with semi-visitors). On one hand, meh, it’s not so hard. I mean, we aren’t short of food or reading and viewing material, and we’re in jolly health. On the other, I do miss wandering, or stopping in at a shop and browsing, especially now the weather had turned pleasant.

My morning mile went smoothly. Warm-up was smooth (not as stiff or creaky as it’s been recently), the temperature was 11°, and the time was 10:07.

I spent the first bit of the morning reading and seeking out volumes from the Lives of the English Saints in Archive.org. The 19th-C volumes are bound together in unpredictable ways, but the early 20th-C edition from S.T.Freemantle is organised nicely. I’m putting these on the infinite list of works I’d like to work over for tidy digital reproduction.

Then — this being Maundy Thursday, ha-ha, you can’t slip that holy day past me! — I participated in the renewal of my ordination vows, and then the Maundy Thursday Mass from All Saints Margaret Street. Lunch, afternoon with more reading, then mindless web browsing, and now it’s dinnertime. Exquisite courgette pasta with asparagus, and then Spooks.