A crime against the Faithful

Lone Veiler on being locked out of church

This is going to be a Grumpy Veiler so my apologies in advance. What a thoroughly nasty few months this has been on every front. I was trying to find something positive to take away from the house arrest - sorry, lockdown - we have all been under, but came up pretty empty.

Listing reasons to be cheerful wore off as a gratitude exercise some time in Week 3, along with most of my sense of humour. This was also when I had to acknowledge that streamed Masses did nothing for my spiritual life. I know they are very helpful to a lot of people, and to have the opportunity to participate virtually is a real boon in so many ways; priests have been fantastic with their streaming, homilies, and online presence. But me, I just got angry. Why? Because I couldn’t overcome the feeling that the closure of our churches was the biggest crime against the faithful and the clergy that could possibly be perpetrated.

Rosary and readings

Our Lord was taken away, and the doors barred against us at a time when His consolation, being able to be in His presence, was most needed. So, I stuck with the rosary and readings. As I write this, there are still more stringent distancing rules in our partially reopened Churches than the garden centre or Sainsbury’s, and no Mass. Hopefully by the time you read this it’ll all be over bar the hand wringing, finger pointing, and hindsight.

‘How easy it is for our Catholic freedoms to be taken away at pretty much a moment’s notice’

What has this taught me? Primarily, that no-one ever washed their hands until last March. How easy it is for our Catholic freedoms to be taken away at pretty much a moment’s notice at the instigation of our own, and how a western democracy can issue decrees from on high about when, where, and who, in a family can meet each other, or escape from each other.

Also, that applauding an institution can be almost mandatory, unless like me you’re rather belligerent when told what to do and when to do it, that rainbows are now not just LGBT, and that during the great blessing of glorious sunshine, which kills viruses, we were all instructed to stay indoors. Although I went out, the dog is a great get out of jail card. It did not teach me patience, it made me incredibly frustrated.

Yes, I could sew, and paint but not decorate, and read, and binge watch box sets if I chose to, I could walk the dog, and there was loo roll to be had for ready money. But Zoom is no substitute for human interaction, and the paranoia that made a person jump into the road so as to be more than two metres away from me when I came round a corner with the pooch, is just not normal. So glad there hadn’t been a car coming. It also taught me that if you want to gather in large groups to violently protest, you remain virus free. Funny that. I wonder if I could organise a protest pilgrimage.

Challenged

Yes, there were some times when resignation was mighty, although it might have been apathy, but in the main, I still can’t shake the thought that quarantine is for the sick and vulnerable, not the healthy, and that when we’re all out and about again we’re all going to get every bug going because our normal immune response hasn’t been challenged for months.

Where did I find God in all this? Obviously not in Church. I wish I could say that I had grown spiritually, but even my usual daily prayer routine became an absolutely joyless jaw-clenching grind. We kept Easter as best we could, have celebrated every feast day and octave with determination, yes, grim determination. We have eaten cake, drunk wine, I have trusted that all shall be well, and I don’t doubt it, but as I said, what a very, very, nasty few months it’s been.

However, one thing I did find, having some time on my hands because the world and its mother took up quilting so my wadding was on back order, was The Chosen. It’s watchable on a downloadable app for free, and it’s on Youtube. It’s an American Christian-made series based on the Gospels, with back story. I haven’t watched all the available episodes, just managed one and a half so far, but it is intriguing and I will try and watch a few more, because dare I say it, the cheese factor doesn’t seem to be there. It reminds me of the 1950s and 1960s movies I love so much, some of which do have a good whiff of gorgonzola, brought into the 21st century, with slightly better acting. Although for good and atrocious acting in the same film, it’s really hard to beat Quo Vadis. Leo Genn! Peter Ustinov! and Robert Taylor. Dear, oh dear. Looks like that’s my viewing sorted this evening, “Tigellinus, the Weeping Vase...!”