Go sit in your cell...

There’s a saying of a desert father I like which feels appropriate following the Prime Minister’s address to the nation earlier this evening:

“Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.”’

For all of us, the next three weeks at least will be tough. We are all, for the good of others and ourselves to stay at home. For some of us, expecting to be on the list of 1.5 million vulnerable people, we will need to stay at home for at least three months. We wonder where shopping might come from. What will be in a parcel paid for by the government? Will it come? Boris says use food deliveries where possible. Has he seen when the next available slot is? 

 We are living, through no fault of our own, in a holiday let, in the middle of nowhere. I feel very far from the Circuit where I am without appointment. We are meant to be getting our things into storage out of the Old Vicarage. We now cannot. We were meant to be moving in May. That is looking very unlikely. Will we even move for September? There are no answers. Can we go out and collect essential items from the Old Vicarage or will there be a police road block in Tydd St Giles to stop us getting there? We are so grateful we can settle in what is a rather lovely temporary home until June at least. We miss the cats but they are safe. 

I don’t think I’ve ever felt like I was part of history like I felt tonight as we waited by the TV for Boris Johnson to speak. Perhaps it felt like gathering round the wireless in September 1939 to hear Mr Chamberlain tell us we were at war. I’m no Boris fan, but I do feel for him. He looks knackered and the weight of responsibility on him is huge. Life tonight has changed whether we like it or not. I think these measures had to come. The pictures of people on beaches and in tourist areas over the weekend were sheer stupidity. Our friends on Holy Island put out a message this morning telling people to stay away. Even people with second homes there. I saw a huge queue earlier today at McDonalds - people wanting their last happy meal    before Armageddon! 

There is a comfort in knowing we are all in this together. All of us have to face this time and get through it. We can grumble and stress that normal life has stopped or we can make the best of each day. Which returns me to my desert fathers quote: 

“Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.”

 

When life returns to some sort of normality and we emerge outside like George the tortoise used to after hibernation on Blue Peter, we will soon complain life is too fast and too busy. 

Maybe we need to see the next three months at least for most of us as a gift. Yes we can’t see people, but there’s Zoom! I have a meeting using Zoom at 10am in the morning. 

We can ring up that person we told in a Christmas letter we would definitely be in touch with this year. 

We can care for one another. Churches I think in this period will discover a new depth of pastoral care as people look out for each other. I desperately miss being minister of a congregation at this time. I miss having a flock to care for. 

We can read those books we bought ages ago and haven’t had time to read. We can have a project. My book will get written!! The danger is we watch too much rolling news or loll about in our pyjamas all day with no focus. We can use the wealth of resources on line from every denomination for daily prayer and Sunday worship. I intend to write a sermon and service for each Sunday as a discipline, and because I love preparing worship. Make your own list. What can you do with these days you never dreamt you’d have time to do? 

A dear friend wrote to me tonight saying this:

“We are trying to get into a routine to preserve our sanity!  The Morning Prayer, a walk each day, a sing each day, read a new poem a day, keep a book of good things that happen each day.”

I like that last idea! 

“Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.”

Coronavirus is horrible. It’s horrific to see the numbers dying across the world go up every day. Every number is a real person and it’s awful. I don’t believe God causes pain like this but I do believe God is in it with us, and maybe, God gives us this time inside to refocus on what matters, our deepest relationships, our well-being, our faith, and maybe, just maybe, we shall all come out of this time different, with new priorities. Perhaps! 

For now, we sit in our cell, and we see what having to do that (with one period of exercise!) does to us and to our world. 

I took this picture earlier and I think it is an image to hold on to. It is the river Nene just before it goes into the Wash, just north of Sutton Bridge, where we are living until June or even August (!) 

The sun is setting. But there is calm. And a new day will come. And all will be well.