Towards the end of September I travelled to Croydon to St. Michael’s Church for the Regional Synod of the Society of the Holy Cross (SSC). I had not been to the church before nor had I set foot in the town with the exception of a change of trains at East Croydon in 1981 en route from Whyteleafe to Lichfield City. St. Michael’s was quite wonderful and the liturgy glorious. Whilst there I visited a local café for coffee and mentioned that this was my first visit to Croydon to the young lady at the counter who was curious about why I was there and what was going on at the church (a large number of clergy dressed in black clericals does tend to attract attention). Whilst in conversation I mentioned that on my previous visit it had been necessary to signal to the driver of the Brighton to Manchester train if one wished to board, East Croydon being a request stop. Of course that is no longer the case. The conversation inevitably continued with thoughts of automation and the elimination of human contact during the intervening years (although not in that café which reminded me of something from the set of a 1960’s soap opera).
Indeed things have changed over the years as they always have and always will. Sadly this often means the elimination of people from particular situations and activities. Those who are familiar with the novels of Thomas Hardy will remember that changes in agriculture and rural life as a result of mechanisation in the 19th Century were amongst his themes. That process continued throughout the following century and many rural communities suffered significant reductions in the numbers of residents as a result. This was certainly true of my previous benefice with the population of some villages being halved between 1900 and 1950. Inevitably this had an effect on the viability of parish churches, village schools and other institutions and activities.
It is people who inevitably bear the brunt of change (and who often benefit as well). I try not to dwell on it too much, but automation and latterly the advent of the computer have changed the life of parochial clergy, if not beyond recognition, then certainly dramatically. When I was ordained nearly 40 years ago parish life was all about people whereas today clergy are increasingly burdened by the managerial culture which spreads to the local church from a centralised bureaucracy whether it is that of the institutional church or of government in one of its forms. Policies abound and virtual communication dominates, but whether it is better than the old days I doubt. It is always people who are left out.
It is too easy to become sentimental and to rue the passing of the ages. Sentiment is a poor inspiration for the gospel. It is necessary to build on firm foundations of prayer and service with people at the heart. With the gospel at the centre of what the church does and with the saints as a support and inspiration then the work can continue, perhaps organised differently at times to take account of changes in the world, but still focussed on doing what Jesus did. We are still bidden to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to expend ourselves sacrificially, not to complete a list of tasks, but to know that the Lord is close to us and to the men, women and children committed to our care. Change is inevitable and frequently beneficial, but Christians still need to ‘hold the line’ and retain the best – all that is an essential part of the life of faith – and that means people, even if trains now stop automatically!
Image by Gerd Altmann on Pixabay
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