on love

 

If you live long enough, you will eventually become dependent on the care of another, perhaps to come into your home and help you get up — that is, to rise — washed and dressed, to make sure that you are eating, and taking your medication.

When this happens at scale, across the population, it looks like this: since ‘taking back control’ of our borders, we have given an unprecedented number of visas to workers from overseas who work on our hospital wards, in our residential care homes, and in our own homes — and still we have a shortfall in numbers. Or like this: our parliamentary representatives are debating whether the Assisted Dying Bill is an angel of mercy, or the very devil himself disguised as an angel of light.

Not many members of my congregation are quite at the stage of needing this kind of care, yet; but as a congregation, we have been, for a while now. We are unable to do certain things for ourselves, which in the past were a matter of course. We are not able to provide a treasurer from among ourselves, and are dependent on the help of someone from a neighbouring congregation. We do not have succession in place for church wardens or a Parish Safeguarding Officer (PSO). We are by no means unique in this regard, across the Church, across the nation.

I want to say, and to say quite strongly, that this is not failure — though it undoubtedly feels that way, and I wrestle with such feelings often — but a natural season of life. Congregations (and other communities), like individuals, experience life cycles: birth, growth, vitality, maturity, aging, decline, death — and resurrection.

On the night that he was arrested, hours before his state execution, Jesus told his apprentices that the glory of God is revealed in the world by the way we love one another. This can certainly involve how we serve one another — Jesus had just washed their feet — but at this moment none of them can do anything to serve him, or one another. Jesus did not say, the glory of God is revealed in what you are able to do, the tasks you are able to take on.

The question for my congregation at this time is, what does it look like to love one another in this season of life?

What does it look like to love one another in a Christ-like way when we are dependent on others to do simple as well as complex tasks for us?

What does it look like to love one another in this way, without turning in on ourselves defensively — such that we are unable to welcome the care of others (whose lives will almost certainly look quite different to our own) and to recognise the new thing that God is doing? Because, alongside this, God is doing a new thing.

The invitation is to discover the answer to this question, not only for our own sake but for the good of the wider society whom we are also called to love. If we are able to do so, we will have deep wisdom to share. Our lives will be a beacon of glory in a dark world, and people will be drawn to the light. If not, we will have only bitterness and regret, a share in the darkness.

May the Spirit of God, who makes Christ known in the world, draw us to him and empower us to love one another.