I have tried very hard on this blog to keep away from the subject of the coronavirus which is currently playing such a large part in our lives. But try as I may, the topic seems to creep in everywhere. We are even beginning to forget the routines we had before the COVID-19 first appeared. All our plans for the summer are on hold. In my case I am in the process of cancelling my plans to attend three conferences, a gathering with college friends and a trip to see family in Ireland. Life has drastically changed. But, compared to those who are actually sick, stranded on a cruise liner on the other side of the world, in a hostel in India with no money, I feel very fortunate. I am safely at home with my wife, with other family not far away.
It is not an exaggeration to say that the world will never be the same after this pandemic of 2020. The ways it will change will be fully charted by historians in the future. Some of the changes will be social but there will be many consequences emerging from the appalling economic damage that is being inflicted on all the advanced societies of both East and West. The economic effects of a possible full-blown slump on our society will reach into every aspect of our lives. With falling stock-markets comes decreased wealth in society as a whole. Lack of wealth involves less money being spent, less trade and higher unemployment. All these point to greater poverty in the future. With poverty comes the possibility of greater destitution and want among the least fortunate.
The Church will be caught up in the negative economic maelstrom like every other institution. The gloomy part of this blog post foresees tremendous financial problems for the Church in the next ten to twenty years. Since the beginning of the century, one has felt that the Church of England has been like a ‘zombie’ company. The income/expenditure balance in the dioceses are very finely tuned. When a serious economic shock comes along, the zombie company is the one that is revealed to have been trading insolvent for some time. That is the situation we seem to have with the Church of England. Many, if not most, of the dioceses have been in, or close to, a deficit situation. The central body managing the considerable resources of the Church Commissioners appears to be relatively healthy, even though its capital assets will have recently shrunk in value as for everyone else. The Commissioners are however not responsible for paying for the day to day expenses of the dioceses and parishes. Most of the Commissioners’ money is earmarked for national church bodies, clergy pensions, cathedrals and the bishops. The 44 dioceses raise most of their money from the quota paid by the parishes. This money is then used to pay the clergy and their housing and pension costs. In all, the yearly average ‘cost’ of each stipendiary clergyperson is £60 –£65,000. The problem has been that some parishes around the country for some time have been unwilling/unable to pay the quota that has been requested of them to pay. In some cases, they are under the impression that if they don’t pay, it will be made up for by central funds. The best that the Commissioners have been able to do is sometimes to meet diocesan deficits with loans. In certain cases, dioceses have been reduced to desperate measures like selling capital assets or keeping posts unfilled for long periods. To summarise, the financial state of many English dioceses has been fragile for a number of years. It is possible that, that because of the current financial crisis, the entire parish system may be about to fall apart. The threat of insolvency hanging over many dioceses may be impossible to avert. When there is no money to pay the clergy, the parish system breaks down completely. This will not happen overnight, but it could become a reality over a ten to twenty year time frame.
I have been painting a grim prognosis for the Church of England in view of the current economic shock to our country being caused by the pandemic. When we move away from falling stock markets and rising unemployment to other aspect of the pandemic, I do see some signs of hope for the Church. One of the most hopeful aspects of the current shut-down has been the flowering of good neighbourly behaviour in many communities. Normal British reservation has given way to expressions of genuine neighbourly concern. Church people have always been at the forefront of Good Neighbour schemes and now that this spirit is active and flourishing throughout society, it could be the future role of church people to keep that flame alive permanently. It should not take a national crisis to alert people to the need to care for isolated neighbours. We can however hope that, as a nation, this crisis has made us a little kinder and more considerate to others.
The second cause for hope is being found paradoxically in the midst of the fact that all our church buildings have been temporarily closed. Social isolation has already created, in society generally, a new readiness to experiment with online communication with others. In my family we are starting to use Skype and Zoom and there is an Apple programme which enables my wife to play board games with our 4 year-old granddaughter in Belfast. This technology seems to be catching on among Christians as they come to terms with their closed buildings. A lot of our older church people will protest and say that this technology is not for them, but I can see that streaming church services into the home is something people will become more and more accustomed to and eventually accept. One really positive advantage is that it may have the effect of raising the quality of worship and teaching. The online congregation have the option to switch off! Also, there would be needed in a possible post-parish situation, something to supplement this domestic form of worship. There could be large gatherings in a local town centre, perhaps the same place where people go for a supermarket shop. I would envisage that this would provide the opportunity to sing together, to pray and to share food with fellow Christians, perhaps monthly. I know that some people are frightened by large gatherings of Christians and they shrink from what they fear may become revivalist events. I see no reason for this to be an obstacle. Those who would be authorised to lead these large gatherings and area worship would need to be sensitive to the variety of spiritual needs that are represented among the people present. Not everyone wants the culture of Holy Trinity Brompton, particularly in the more rural areas of the country.
In a phone call with a self-isolating clergyman, I learnt that in a multi-parish benefice in the Salisbury diocese, more people had tuned into a virtual service via Zoom than had ever appeared in the flesh for a similar event. A lot of experimental work will have to be done. But let us hope that the post-virus, possibly post-parish Church will never need to descend to doom and gloom. The churches will change. They may change radically, but somehow I am hopeful that people will find new ways to practise their faith in a way that is economically affordable and spiritually valuable. This will enable Christians to play a full part and serve a society as it tries to recover from the current economic devastation that threatens all our lives.
Yes, you may be right. I fear, however, that Dioceses will go bust sooner rather than later. Perhaps some clergy will lose their jobs. There will be a lack of good quality teaching, and therefore a drop in spiritual growth and maturity. And who will maintain the listed buildings? As for the real world. Yes to bigger gaps between rich and poor. And probably more leaders like Boris and Trump! Many people do believe their promises and bluster.
Some time ago I was quite involved in one of the large summer Christian festivals. They still send me emails and have recently cancelled this year’s events, standing to lose north of £1 million pounds.
What struck me from these communications however, was a strong sense of leadership. Straight, up-front messages. Risks assessed and prompt action taken. Refunds to be issued but please consider a donation to help them. To me this was a good start. They may even live to be around next year.
Will the Church of England grasp the field of nettles it faces? Financial Armageddon is dawning.
Or will it do what it did with the child sexual abuse pandemic, and hide away and hope no one noticed?
I don’t see anyone in charge at present. Administratively, I am sure there are plenty of influencers behind the scenes managing the downward spiral but now, more than ever, a new kind of leadership is required. Any leadership at all would be a start. Be prepared to see more external (non church) involvement as the clerical equivalent of administrative receiverships start to kick in.
In the corporate world there are strict prohibitions against trading whilst insolvent. In the charitable world the restrictions tend to be more onerous. I’m sure someone else with detailed knowledge can put their ha’porth in, if I’m adrift here.
Parishes tend to want to enjoy autonomy, but we must surely see this eroded quickly with imposed mergers and fire sales.
Other church brands are available of course. Without the legacy heritage assets (which can be rather a liability) these other churches are at an advantage. They have a lower fixed cost base and are thus less susceptible to damaging losses when incomes fluctuate. In staffing costs, the £60k+ cost per incumbent cited, covers a number of things such as a generous pension scheme unavailable in quality to many other church workers, nor its costs to their income statements. It seems likely that some of these other churches will thrive whilst the national Church dives. I won’t mention competition.
So leadership is needed. Now. Will we see any? Answers on a postcard from your lockdown address.
Your comment about parishes. My parish paid the cleaner illegally low wages for years until a new treasurer noticed. Many PCC’s don’t realise that employment legislation, and protection stuff does apply to them. One incumbent ended up in court over a knotty problem involving implied contracts. Which he described as ridiculous. Sadly, it was true. I’ve also seen special rare floor tiles ruined by clergy insistence on a shiny finish, which had to be scraped off twice a year because it crazed, then it was reapplied. The people in charge don’t know what they need to know. But they are all powerful and cannot be challenged. It needs a shake up. But the real change would be to get rid of the caste system.
As Stephen points out there is now a significant economic challenge to the top. Doing nothing is not an option. Cutting underpaid lower “caste” staff won’t help them now, although it will be at the front of their mental queue of ideas, believe it or not.
The idea of better management of people:
it’s never too late to start, but significant re-education will be needed. Somehow I can’t see this happening!
Whoever takes charge, and in default it may end up being a government department, must look at the big picture. What can be saved? What must be relinquished? One diocese instead of 44?
When the dust has settled, in a year or so, we may find that a lot of churches with small congregations of elderly people are in a position where it is much easier to close them down. This is sad, but has been inevitable for many years. If those buildings can be sold it’s one way of recouping some assets for the future mission of the Church of England.
One thing that gives me hope is that the years of the bubonic plague and decline of the monasteries – and, in Spain, the terrors of the Inquisition – saw a flowering of Christian mysticism. The mystics who wrote then, from Margaret Kempe to Teresa of Avila, have provided spiritual sustenance for those of us who have followed. We may see a blooming of spirituality in ways we couldn’t have predicted. God has always been in the business of bringing new life out of apparent death.
For myself, the renewal is already happening. I haven’t been well enough to attend church for several years, and have been grateful to have communion brought to me every month or so. Since the lockdown I have been able to join streamed services with other people several times a week, and it’s doing me a power of good. I’m particularly enjoying Miranda Threlfall-Holmes’ reflections on the Exodus story, at St. Bride’s Liverpool, and the creative liturgy there. I’m in danger of regaining hope for the Church of England!
I find your reflection reassuring Janet! I’m sure you’re on the right track here. Easter, the time of tragic death and powerful resurrection, surely directs us to see God at work despite us and our circumstances.
Thanks
I have just posted this on ‘Thinking Anglicans’. I hope people don’t think it flippant. The message is there!
Courtesy of “Affirming Laudianism”, to be sung to the tune ‘Aurelia’ by Samuel Sebastian Wesley:
The good old Church of England!
With her priests throughout the land,
And her twenty-thousand churches,
How nobly does she stand!
Dissenters are like mushrooms,
That flourish but a day;
Twelve hundred years, through smiles and tears,
She has lasted on always!
Among other major setbacks, the smiles and tears have included the Black Death, later plagues and two world wars. I hope we might manage a smile as well as tears in present circumstances.
Paul described the church as the pillar and foundation of the truth, 1 Tim 3:15. That includes straight talk as Stephen has asked for.
In this time of uncertainty and how the future may unfold I would like to add a special mention for chaplains in hospitals, both general and mental health, who are, unlike their more sheltered counterparts, in the thick of it bringing comfort and calm. The church often treats chaplains as second class clergy because they are not their employers but whatever changes in the future chaplains will always be an important part of healthcare and I would like to say a big thank you to them.
Off topic. The BBCs Sunday service is at 10:45 not the advertised 11:00. It’s one of the ones I’m in! 😁
Thanks, I was going to ask you when it was. I missed last week’s because they ran it earlier than announced.
That’s right. And although people asked, they’re still doing the sermon before the reading!
What? That’s crazy!
Which reading are you doing?
First. Fat lady in an ill-fitting cassock!
I’ll be cheering you on.
Rofl! Thanks.
The readings were good. I’ve always found the public reading of scripture a challenge.
The service was well put together I thought.
The Fauré was divine. Thanks to all involved.
I’ll pass that on, Steve. The precentor was disappointed. He had chosen the Fauré for VE day!
Well done! You were the best bit of the service, IMHO. But why wouldn’t they let you wear your own clothes, instead of someone’s else’s cassock? It would have been good to have it more obvious that people other than senior clerics are allowed to read the Bible.
Ah. I was going to wear my own cassock, which is grey. But I have grown! Frankly, I was glad to at least look like one of the team. I prefer to wear uniform. I am a minister, and it’s the only badge of office I have! But thanks very much.
Fair enough. Apologies, my allergy to cathedral worship was showing there. Forgot to take my antihistamines this morning, I’ll do it now.
This is an important blog post, and I hope that it receives wide circulation.
One of the lead stories in the Church Times this week is that the Commissioners had made a 70m loan facility available to the dioceses, a number of whom fell into distress within days of the lockdown.
Note that the banks will almost certainly not provide dioceses with credit save on the most stringent terms. Many have had (I have been told) difficulties with their overdrafts in recent years, so their credit lines are fairly short. Almost all dioceses (with the possible exception of Guildford and one or two others) have been operating on a break even basis.
So the Commissioners will be the diocesan bankers of first and last resort. Note also that this is a loan facility, so it remains to be seen what terms will be offered by the Commissioners to the dioceses, and whether the reality is that it will morph into a don gratuit.
Mention has been made of selling churches. Fine, although there is no property market at present or for the foreseeable future. If the Church has to sell assets it will be doing so in a massively discounted market. Even before the slump most church buildings, even in favoured areas, would be fortunate to sell for 500k (though this could often be an undervalue); in Scotland and Wales it is common to see churches sell for well under 50k. Once fees are deducted, it will be seen that this will not cover many clergy (60k p/a as noted) for long.
I think the clergy (and spouses) are going to have to come to terms with the fact that, like almost everyone else, they are going to have to take a substantial haircut in their pension entitlements and possibly also in their stipends. Many will, at least, have a roof over their head and are not at risk of eviction (unless DBFs are constrained to sell housing units in large numbers as well: which should go first, the houses or the churches?). Of course, clergy will say that they are not paid that much to begin with…
Also, I note that people are enthusing about virtual church. I did an analysis of virtual services in two dioceses last weekend (Truro and Worcester). Few benefices were offering anything at all; Worcester was predictably better than Truro. A couple of churches had a decent amount of hits. Most had relatively few. Take into account that the revenue from virtual church will be pennies instead of the pounds proffered in actual church services. This is unsurprising: the transition from the real to the virtual is invariably accompanied by a massive fall in returns which, it is hoped, will be offset by clicks on advertising. Not really going to happen with the Church, is it?
So, with income in freefall, the clergy (and retirees) become almost instantly unaffordable.
This makes the tension between the Church’s function as a conservator of the most important part of the national heritage and is provider of spiritual services almost unbearable.
Froghole, is it clear who would be selling a parish church? I think a strong case could be made that the asset belongs to the parish – not the PCC, not the diocese, not the “central bodies”.
The incumbent. They sign for all the property I think. Interesting!
The incumbent’s home – whether rectory, vicarage, or in some cases chaplaincy house – belongs to the diocese. There is some resentment about this as historically they belonged to parishes. However it does mean that diocese are responsible for repairs and maintenance. Of course some dioceses are better at this than others. Manchester used to be notoriously bad, but of course Manchester is a poor diocese.
I have had to put my own money and labour into every clergy house I’ve lived in, to make them liveable. The exception was the curate’s house in York, but that was owned by the parish.
@American Piskie. To follow on from Janet’s useful comment, parochial assets, such as parsonage houses or glebe were vested in the incumbent upon appointment.
However, Synod passed the Endowments and Glebe Measure 1976. This allows dioceses to appropriate parochial assets for diocesan purposes (i.e., sell them). It has also been a useful instrument in the creation of team ministries – to which the incumbent with a freehold – was deemed to be an impediment.
Pastoral schemes (for reorganising or liquidating benefices) frequently refer to parsonage houses being transferred to dioceses (i.e., DBFs) for diocesan purposes. So the dioceses have expropriated local assets – initially in the name of ‘equality’ and more recently for the sake of survival – just as the Commissioners have implicitly appropriated funds from the dioceses by forcing the latter to bear the cost of pension accruals (which are, in effect, funded by means of the parish share system). Some people might call this theft by legislative fiat.
Indeed, the whole concept of an ‘incumbent’ has become increasingly uncertain in many places. A person might, for instance be called a ‘team rector’ or ‘team vicar’ but is s/he an incumbent who possesses title to a church an churchyard? Is is often unclear.
As to Manchester diocese, I should add that episcopal and capitular assets were transferred to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners after 1840. Parochial assets varied wildly in value, and depended entirely upon the history of endowments in the relevant locality. South Lancashire was historically in the diocese of Coventry and Lichfield, and then in the Henrician diocese of Chester; the Manchester diocese was carved out of Chester in 1847 and reached its current form in 1926-33. It was an area historically characterised by very large and often poorly endowed parishes with numerous ‘townships’ each with their own ‘chapel’ (some of these chapels being larger that the actual parish church). This was a pattern common to north-west England; it was also a region where agricultural yields were poor, so the landed endowments afforded modest returns.
As the area became increasingly industrialised and developed these chapelries metamorphosed into ‘parishes’, but as the original endowments were often paltry the economic base of the new diocese was correspondingly slight. There was rapid ‘church extension’, especially under the early bishops, Prince-Lee and Fraser, but that initial impetus gradually dissipated. Some industrialists provided supplemental endowments, but this was not always the case (since many industrialists were strongly allied with dissent) and, as time passed, these assets were devoured. The last few decades have therefore been marked by one of the most aggressive closure programmes in the Church of England, and it has to be asked whether Lancashire really needs three dioceses (or four, if we count Lancashire ‘over the Sands’, which is now in Carlisle).
Many thanks, but this is not an easy question to answer. Had you asked fifty years ago, I would have responded by saying that the incumbent has title. This was historically the case (the incumbent owned church and churchyard as a ‘corporation sole’ even before the division of the civil and ecclesiastical parish in 1894). However, in 2006 Synod was advised by its lawyers that title was effectively in abeyance. It would probably be fair to state that the PCC and incumbent share liability as occupiers, and that the PCC has the liability for repairs. In other words, there are bundles of rights and obligations held by different interests.
What usually happens when a parish church winds down is that the parish finds increasing difficulty in constituting a PCC, often because the congregation is fading or ailing. The can will frequently be kicked down the road by implementing a pastoral scheme downgrading the church to the status of a chapel of ease and/or by forming a group of churches with a single PCC. It is often the case that the incumbent and/or his/her superiors (the DAC, DBF and archdeacon) will lean on the PCC quite heavily to initiate the closure process usually as part of a wider plan to reduce costs or realise capital.
There will frequently be consultations held by the diocese (and its own committee for closed churches) and this will be part of the process that nudges, or jolts, churches towards closure.
There will then be a pastoral scheme to close the church ‘for regular worship’ (a misnomer – actually it means closing it forever), followed by a uses/disposals scheme following which the church will be sold (or vested in a trust); the uses/disposals scheme is invariably a fait accompli as it simply validates the work done by the Pastoral Division of the Commissioners to effect a sale. There are consultation processes associated with each scheme, but the decks are pretty well stacked against objectors; if there are objections, they are referred to a committee of the Commissioners, who act in a semi-judicial capacity, and then there is a final appeal to the Privy Council (i.e., the Supreme Court, who have more pressing things to do); the chances of a decision of the Commissioners being overturned on appeal – a very expensive process for anyone wishing to object to a scheme – are almost nil. Also, local people don’t usually realise that they have lost their church forever until it is too late.
I should also note that once the PCC dissolves itself title to the church vests in the DBF, who have to insure it and keep it watertight. Naturally, they will want to get it off their books as soon as possible. Title, on disposal, is transferred from the diocese to the purchaser (as I understand it).
So it would be comparatively easy for the authorities to sell en bloc if they wish to do so; what usually restrains them is the risk of local opprobrium, but they may lose their scruples in the wake of this disaster.
With those of us on minimum wage, with the risk of job loss looming and relying on Universal Credit to make ends meet, desperate calls to Shelter about landlords that still insist on full rent I struggle to have much sympathy for clergy, many of whom in my area have second homes. Sell off their ridiculously massive rectories for affordable housing, make them actually live in their second homes. Sorry, I know that won’t apply to all clergy but there is nothing quite like facing eviction to make the divide between the haves and have nots appear even wider. It is not the time for any of them to moan, their stipend is way more than I could ever dream of and if they get kicked out well join the club, there are jobs in supermarkets, though they probably think they are for the likes of menials like me! Please dont forget that people in absolutely dire straits still read this blog.
You’re right. But until recently, clergy weren’t allowed to buy a house. Which put them in a spot when they retired. And they have to move around. Buying and selling is stress you don’t need. And what if you struggle to find something in your new parish? It’s not simple. I know two single men who have nothing. One spent what there was on his parents’ care, one had a pension with a company that went bust. It does vary.
That may be true Athena but at the end of the day they are in that position because they have decided to put themselves in it, they don’t have to be a clergy person, not because life circumstances have forced them into it.
Buying and selling isn’t even on the agenda for a lot of people it’s about paying rent, housing benefits and council waiting lists. An awful lot of survivors live in crappy bedsits with mould and infestations. Try doing a stint on a housing helpline right now as people get placed in one room emergency accommodation there truly is no comparison.
I don’t deny that. But I think any of us are better off than that.
Some people that read this blog but never comment are not better off than that. There is an unknown readership out there I have just spent the past 3 days trying to support one so all I am saying is we need to think what we complain about.
One thing emerging from the Covid19 crisis is the value of work. Originally low paid work was erroneously equated with low skilled work, for example being a carer. Caring, often zero-paid, is highly skilled and demanding. I challenge anyone to do it and be good at it.
Society will emerge from this with a different understanding of what’s worth applauding. If I had the back to do refuse collection, would I have the stomach for it, especially the food waste on a hot day?
Post-war we have a habit of forgetting who did what, and how much we needed them then.
If we have titles and qualifications let’s not forget what a privilege education is. Sure we worked hard, many of us, but manual work, that’s work.
Nothing will change, Steve. Betcha!
Regarding work, in Paul’s letters, working with your hands is the thing, but in our day, we value manual labour less. Interesting. Personally, I love anything creative. I have a friend who makes viols and cellos. Wonderful!
It’s no surprise to me that our Lord himself learnt his theology as a carpenter’s apprentice. Later, as an adult in ministry his immediate leadership team comprised fishermen, used to mending their own nets.
The company he kept was often seen as disreputable, but I’ve often suspected he found them more bearable to be with than the insufferable Pharisee types. At one point he did call on a tax accountant, but generally the top people tended to earn their own keep with manual work such as tent making.
Just to support Trish’s point that looking at their financial and housing security, clergy are in a pretty good position compared to many of us. Having been in tied housing, and also having had to survive on income support as a single parent in a sub-standard one room flat that I was about to be evicted from, I think it’s dangerous for us to go too far down any comparison road, as I think might have come up in a post last year. Two of our sons had their self employment income slashed to 0 in a week. Only one has managed to get any benefit yet – the system keeps crashing. The princely sum of £78 per week. A clergy stipend even with a drafty vicarage looks pretty good from there.
But nothing is perfect or guaranteed. Stephen’s gloomy prognosis for the future of the institution must make for worrying times for many clergy families at the moment, and I feel for them too.
When I was the manager of a community education centre, I spent much of my time trying to get the youth workers out of the building, & into the community, where the majority of the young people were. I adopted a similar strategy when I was a diocesan youth & children’s officer. Church buildings can be beautiful, spiritual hubs in a community. And they can be empty, expensive millstones that take far too much time, energy and money just to sit empty most of the week.
I hope this crisis means we do get rid of more of the millstones. The ones that can be spiritually/community hubs, if parishes/dioceses can’t afford them, let’s work on other creative options. Shared community ownership, for example. Or setting up a National Trust equivalent for redundant churches that are worth preserving as historic monuments.
Then we the church can put our energy and resources into supporting lay & ordained ministry in the community, where it belongs. In schools, care homes, hospitals, shopping centres, pubs, parks & streets & homes. We can worship & learn on those places too.
When you think about it, maybe this is just what the church needs to reform into the body of Christ that we all hope she will be? I actually feel more optimistic about the future on many ways.
Great ideas Jane!
Yes, spot on.
Good points Jane, it is a shame that the church has not risen imaginatively and creatively to this situation in order to demonstrate their outreach and flexibility. Without exception in my area, and others I know, the community help has been provided by non-church groups. Sitting at home delivering an online sermon while people struggle with loneliness and lack of essentials is not rising to the challenge. In my area the mosque has done food parcels for the vulnerable of all denominations yet from the Anglican and Baptist church not a peep! If the church is to be relevant post coronavirus it must start now. As one elderly client said to me at work “well the bleedin’ vicar will take the money for your funeral but he won’t make sure you’re not starving.”
In Whitby the two food banks are largely run by people from the churches, and I know that’s true in other areas. It was the case in the two towns I lived in previously. Recipients of food parcels may not know that, of course.
A friend in a local church was asked to set up some social action for their congregation, and discovered that almost everyone in the congregation was already involved in some way or other – food bank, Men’s Shed, driving people to hospital appointments, etc – but they were doing it quietly.
Food vouchers for food banks are being suspended in some areas while people struggle to get Universal Credit so if someone needs help and can get to them they should go and see.
Local Carers groups usually have details of groups doing food parcels for the vulnerable who can’t get out and those who want a befriender and Mind has an online chat group, Elefriends, for all those struggling with mental health.
I will shut up now, been an incredibly grim time at work and church seems a million miles away from my present reality and those I care for.
Doing your job at a time like this will be even tougher than usual. Thank you for what you and your colleagues are doing, and I hope you can find some respite from the grimness.
Sounds incredibly tough, Trish, hope you manage to find a little space, rest & peace today. Clearly church congregations vary greatly in how they are responding. For what it’s worth, I am sure this little bit of church community (if we see ourselves as that) is routing for you
Absolutely.