In recent days I have again been in a variety of settings with different people, including: meetings and conversations with diocesan colleagues and other bishops; time with clergy; a debate in Westminster about sentencing; speaking at a day on leadership with women in policing; an event in Parliament focused on the work of the UN regarding women in spheres of conflict and peace-making; visits to parishes; a service of confirmation in a prison; conversation about racial justice in the diocese; a focus on how we put children, young people and families front and centre and do the join-up across all of our LIFE Together; speaking in Stroud at an event focused on Israel-Palestine; and of course, preparation for the move to the new diocesan offices in Denmark Road.
Across all these contexts, I have heard people articulate the words ‘fracture’ and ‘fragmentation’, either in a very positive solution-focused way (ie how will a particular action address fragmentation and bring cohesion); or in a place of lament in naming broken relationships, or people’s resistance to join-up and work together.
And it is that word ‘together’ which I am continuing to reflect upon as I write today, not least as we live our diocesan vision of LIFE Together.
In the political sphere, we are acutely aware of the ongoing conflict and division regarding Ukraine and Russia, and Israel-Palestine. Serious fracture in many other countries such as South Sudan, Afghanistan, DRC and more, are sadly less well highlighted. It was good to be in touch with Bishop Emmanuel in our link diocese of Western Tanganyika following the awful fracture, fighting and killings in Tanzania amid the general election a few weeks ago. Thankfully it has remained relatively peaceful in that diocese.
Closer to home, both locally and nationally, we have seen protests and heard the rhetoric about fracture as well as a need to unite – notably focused on asylum seekers including the local issue of hotels. There have also been local and national pro-Palestinian demonstrations, as well as other gatherings of people coming together to stand in solidarity with Jewish neighbours experiencing abhorrent anti-Semitism.
In all of this, the togetherness is often about those of similar mind coming together, and the fragmentation and fracture is with those who hold a different view or are of a different background, gender, faith or ethnicity.
Interestingly, the theme of last week’s Inter Faith Week was ‘Community: Together We Serve’. There were local conversations and events between people of different faiths against a world backdrop which makes inter faith spaces ever harder to navigate. I am particularly grateful to the University of Gloucestershire chaplaincy team and the way they live hospitality and welcome to all, and the way they create spaces for people of different faiths and none to come together. I look forward to being with them at graduation ceremonies this week.
This summer, the Independent Commission on Community and Cohesion was launched, co-chaired by the Rt Hon Sir Sajid Javid and Jon Cruddas MP. It brings together leaders across public life, who will be ‘working to understand what is driving disconnection in the UK and what needs to change’. The Commission has been convened by the Together Coalition and I am delighted that the Bishop of Bradford, the Right Revd Toby Howarth, is playing a key part in all of this. I hope it will provide the opportunity for many of us in this diocese to explore how we might play an even greater role in community cohesion.
And in our desire for greater togetherness, we need to pay attention to our own cohesion within the Church. I am aware that a range of thoughts, views and emotions have been expressed since the reporting of the October House of Bishops’ discussion regarding Prayers of Love and Faith. I am sorry I have not written anything following that meeting. I went away almost immediately and did not pick up on how things had been reported until a couple of weeks ago. I was particularly saddened that the National Church summary of proceedings failed to convey any sense of emotion. It failed to reflect the reality that our decision-making is about people’s lives, love, hope and despair, and very-human bishops seeking to live their calling, to prayerfully discern what it means for us to be a focus of unity within the Body of Christ – to walk together even in our differences.
I am passionately committed to a place at the table for everyone – together – and I am sad, perturbed and deeply sorry that yet again much of what has been communicated, and how it has been delivered following the House of Bishops meeting in October, has added to the hurt and marginalisation experienced by so many LGBTQI people. I will endeavour to write some reflections following the meeting in December, for which the one in October was a precursor.
For all of us – whether it is about our worshipping communities, benefices, deaneries, the wider Church, our neighbourhoods, or our different daily contexts – the issue of what it means to walk together is both challenging and often uncomfortable, yet it also opens us to new depths in our understanding of what it means to be human; and for us as followers of Christ, to what it means to be the body of Christ. There are many good-news stories to share.
For me, the word ‘together’ means the concept of being present to one another – being with and being alongside in our shared humanity. This is often exemplified in situations of tragedy or adversity. For example, when someone acts courageously to prevent someone with a knife attacking people on a train, the rescuer cares little about the different political views of those being attacked, or of their faith, or on which side of the police cordon they might stand in a demonstration. In that moment, it is all about valuing the lives of fellow human beings. Likewise, when people of difference were standing together to cheer on Sara Cox in her amazing marathon feat to raise money for BBC Children in Need.
As Christians, when we gather together for a service of the Eucharist, it is often referred to as holy communion. There is a point in the liturgy known as ‘fraction’ – a fracturing and breaking of the bread – Christ’s body broken for us. (Incidentally if we entered into a discussion about what we believe is happening at that point there would undoubtedly be disagreement.) In that moment of encountering the brokenness of Christ, and the brokenness within us and between us, there is an acknowledgement that ‘although we are many, we are one body’. These words are mysterious and profound, and perhaps even more so when we gather with people different from ourselves or from a different Christian tradition.
As we walk these days ahead, in a fractured and broken world (close to home as well as globally), I wonder what one step we could each take to play an even greater part in bringing reality to that word ‘Together’ in the Church and in the wider community, as members of the body of Christ.
This comes with my gratitude and prayers for our Life Together and for our partnership in the gospel, rooted in Jesus Christ, the one in whom ‘all things hold together’ (Colossians 1:17).
News Hub
Sorry, this will be a bit long, but well worth the read in my opinion!
Following your comment about the Eucharist, I received te following last week:
Father Richard writes of the sacramental nature of bread and wine in the Eucharist.
When Jesus spoke the words “This is my Body,” I believe he was speaking not just about the bread right in front of him, but about the whole universe, about every thing that is physical, material, and yet also spirit-filled.
Seeing the Eucharist as a miracle is not really the message at all. I can see why we celebrate it so often. This message is such a shock to the psyche, such a challenge to our pride and individualism, that it takes a lifetime of practice and much vulnerability for it to sink in—as the pattern of every thing, and not just this thing.
The bread and the wine together are stand-ins for the very elements of the universe, which also enjoy and communicate the incarnate presence. Why have we resisted this message so much? Authentically eucharistic churches should have been the first to recognize the corporate, universal, and physical nature of the “Christification” of matter. While Catholics rightly affirm the Real Presence of Jesus in these physical elements of the earth, most do not realize the implications of what they have affirmed. The bread and wine are largely understood as an exclusive presence, when in fact their full function is to communicate a truly inclusive—and always shocking—presence.
A true believer is eating what he or she is afraid to see and afraid to accept: The universe is the Body of God, both in its essence and in its suffering.
The Eucharist is an encounter of the heart when we recognize Christ’s Presence through our own offered presence. In the Eucharist, we move beyond mere words or rational thought and go to that place where we don’t talk about the Mystery anymore; we begin to chew on it. Jesus did not say, “Think about this” or “Stare at this” or even “Worship this.” Instead, he said, “Eat this!”
We must move our knowing to the bodily, cellular, participative, and thus unitive level. We must keep eating and drinking the Mystery, until one day it dawns on us, in an undefended moment, “My God, I really am what I eat! I also am the Body of Christ.” Then we can henceforth trust and allow what has been true since the first moment of our existence. The Eucharist should jolt us into awareness that we have dignity and power flowing through us in our bare and naked existence—and everybody else does too, even though most do not know it. A body awareness of this sort is enough to steer and empower our entire faith life.
This is why I must hold to the orthodox belief that there is Real Presence in the bread and wine. For me, if we sacrifice Reality in the basic and universal elements, we end up sacrificing the same Reality in ourselves.
Thank you for that very informative unpacking of how the eucharist holds so much. Truly beautiful and each time different. As a server with the honour of seeing the faces, hands and demeanour of everyone coming to receive the bread and wine or a blessing I totally agree the whole universe it there; with enough tenderness, mercy and restoration for everyone.. no one is outside or left broken and alone
I wonder if Father Richard has considered the fact that the Universe which mankind has observed is a) the most inhospitable place imaginable, b) full of violent forces like the Sun and c) about as unforgiving as its possible to imagine.
By contrast Jesus faced an inhospitable environment, embraced a violent death and met it all with forgiveness so that our sin could be forgiven and we could enter the presence of God.
He sent his Holy Spirit which proceeds from the Father and the Son so that we might be the Temple of the living God. Thus we are the hands and feet of Christ.
By his own words he says he wants us to remember him through the bread and the wine.