Whether you think it was wise of the Government or not, Thursday of last week was going to be quite a moment. After almost two years of legal restrictions placed upon us in order that we could control the spread of the virus – or at least attempt to – all legal restrictions were to be lifted. No more compulsory masks, no more compulsory self-isolation. For some this seemed premature and slightly scary, for others it was the moment they had been pressing for, freedom. My own feelings were more the former than the latter. I don’t particularly like wearing a mask, but I will continue to do so, especially on public transport, especially in a crowded place, and especially when infection levels are as high as they are. The Zoe Covid app I complete each day has had to have a few iterations of the graph for SE1 area on the homepage; the numbers on the left axis were just not sufficient for the actual number of infections now being reported, a chilling and daily reminder that we aren’t out of the woods.
Nevertheless, Thursday arrived and we were ready to enter a new phrase. But it really was a case of ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire’. I love idioms, they describe some things so well, in ways that we can all understand. It seems that as far as the English version of this idiom is concerned it can be dated back to 1528. One of the earliest known uses may be from St Thomas More in ‘A Dialogue Concerning Heresies’, first published in 1529. So it has a good and holy pedigree. But in fact the idea that lies behind it – that you escape one bad situation only to find yourself in a worse one – can be dated back to ancient Greece, because this idea was described in Aesop’s fable “The Stag and the Lion”. It’s a familiar aspect of human experience.
Anyway, we woke on Thursday to the news that the attack on Ukraine by Russia had commenced overnight. We had been hearing the reports of the buildup of troops on the boarders of Ukraine for weeks. We had watched as shuttle diplomacy was engaged in, as leaders met in summits, to try to get President Putin to change his mind. The image that will stay with me is the photo of President Macron at the end of a very long table at a meeting with President Putin in the Kremlin. President Putin was sat at the other end. They were literally a huge distance apart and it was a visual representation of a political reality. They looked like a couple unable to communicate, even at the table.
It is hard to know what to say in situations like this, although the psalms at the Offices over the last few days have had plenty to say about the reality of war and the feelings that we have towards those we call our enemies. The people of Israel knew, and know, what it is like to be a people under attack, a people called upon to defend themselves and a people who would call on God to defend them.
So just a few thoughts. The first is that the Ukrainian people are full of faith. In the Parish of Richmond Hill, Leeds, where I was vicar we had a lovely family at All Saints Church who were of Ukrainian heritage. They worshipped as both Anglicans and Ukrainian Orthodox. What I saw in them was a deep love of God and a real spirituality born out of their home heritage and the traditions there. They loved coming back after their Easter celebrations and sharing their joy with me. They were strong, and strong in faith.
The second thing that has struck me is that over the last few weeks, as I have been going round talking about my book ‘The Hour Is Come’ for Passiontide, I have talked a great deal about my memories of the First Gulf War and the development of 24 hour news, the inspiration behind the book. We have seen all that come into its own again as we have been able to follow the events as they happen. We have the feeling that we are there and sharing with our sisters and brothers something of the horror that they are living through, in our own real time.
Finally, all I can do is pray. When I say ‘all’ it is not that I believe that prayer is nothing, I believe that prayer is powerful, essential vital. I am always encouraged by those lines in the Letter of James
The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up. (James 5.15)
In this final chapter of the letter, James is encouraging prayer for the sick by looking at what Elijah achieved through prayer. That is available to us, available to the church, available to people of faith is what James is saying. And we have to believe him. We have to be as strong in our prayers as are the people of Ukraine, lighting our candles as they light theirs, praying in our real time as they suffer in theirs, staying with them as much as we can. That is why I wrote this prayer which we are praying in Southwark Cathedral and across the diocese – and I invite you to pray with us for them.
God of strength and peace,
send your blessing on the people of Ukraine.
Sustain them in their struggles,
hold them in their fear,
protect them from all danger
and be for them the hope they desire;
for Jesus Christ’s sake.
Amen.
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