You can tell when it’s summer. Not by the children’s noise, or the cricket, or the tennis. Rather you can tell it’s summer when the phone begins to ring from the clergy and churches in the country roundabout seeking cover for their morning services, whether for holidays, special days out, the continuing interregnum, the unforeseen broken ankle, and even recently a request to do a service once a month half an hour’s drive away for a beautiful church in the middle of nowhere who heard that I might have some time on my hands because I had no church of my own and they were none too happy with the times of service their muli-parished vicar was offering! (I was polite, but somewhat incredulous!)

All in all, I’ve had a bit of a run around the past few weeks, and it’s set to go on. Visits to small country churches and small congregations for 8am Book of Common Prayer Holy Communion Services, a 9.15am Common Worship Communion, and this morning a double bill, 8.30am at a lovely little church in the middle of a field, and 10am Catholic-leaning Mass, being introduced as Father Stuart. (Wisdom being the better part of valour I declined to comment that I am only Father to my daughter and none of them, so far as I knew!)

This “steeple-chasing” over the last few weeks leaves me with mixed feelings. On the one hand it is a delight to escape MLPK (My Little Part of Kent), to re-connect with the bigger picture, and even to be able to do things a little more on “auto-pilot.” Not with an empty mind or lacking in meaning, but moving in the groove of the familiar. Words hallowed by the weight of history, even if I wouldn’t choose to use them myself. There is nowhere where I’ve not received a warm and friendly welcome, a genuine gratitude for the ministry of visiting priest. The one person who can "do" the one thing that they cannot – the mystery of the Holy Communion.

Of course, there is a downside. Congregations rarely exceeding a dozen. Multi-parish benefices. Listed buildings to maintain on a dwindling income. Being the youngest person present by more than a decade. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when I compare it to my own thin numbers. I have plenty of contacts with potential – and maybe their clergy do too – but it is all rather bleak. Congregations with a mixture of goodwill, and faith beyond doubt, but bewildered about how to connect with their populations. Not to mention the need to maintain the buildings.

I think I’ve mentioned in a comment somewhere that radical action is needed. In some cases, yes, reluctantly we may need to close church buildings. Far better though to find some sort of arrangement with the heritage lobby and deed the buildings to English Heritage or the like and lease them back for services. To free ourselves of the crushing burden of maintaining what everyone likes the think of as theirs, but who are unable or unwilling to make a difference, or even or unknowing of the true financial state of affairs.

But that can’t be all of it. We have to find a way to get the message, and the ministry, of all Christian people to be outside and engaging meaningfully with the population. That means taking a risk, and being able to articulate what we believe, and why it is good news. To move, as the catchphrase goes, from maintenance to mission. From looking after our own to reaching out in genuine love and compassion.

It’s not enough to say “come to us, we’re very nice people.” Words are cheap, after all. Approachable buildings and worship will go only part of the way. It’s more about Christians in the local church responding to the needs of the community for the sheer love of that community. Identifying the needs and then acting upon them. I’m far from sure that setting up an explicitly Christian response is the right way either. The God who in Jesus didn’t wait for perfection in his apostles and disciples taught us about a love that means being ready to make common cause with all people of good will and like mind. Salt makes no difference if it never leaves the cellar, even if it has a beautifully crafted one. Yeast cannot work through the batch if it isn’t in the dough.

But I need to wrap this up – I have my main worship engagement opportunity with the community coming up. (And after all what does the title of “Service” actually mean?)

We all need to be freed and motivated to serve. By the removal, or at least the lightening, of the load. Whether that’s a building, a despair and confusion at the size of the task, or even from the need for the minister to gad around at high speed as no more than a sacred magician and instead be empowered to make a difference by walking alongside the people where they are at.

It isn’t rocket science. It isn’t accountancy – the vibrant church I went to this morning only merits half-time clergy provision. It’s about a desire to make a difference, and willingness to take a risk, and an investment of time and energy.

I wonder how many will show for this afternoon’s investment of my service to them, and join with me in the exciting challenge of a faith that makes a difference?

And maybe I dare ask, just this once, are their any bishops reading this? A lead about the buildings would be a great help... and I don't even have one. Yet!

¶ 3:58 pm