Stephen Race
I didn’t look at my watch, but I reckon I became a bishop around about midday on St Andrew’s Day 2022 in York Minster. It was wonderful being surrounded by so many people in such a beautiful building, surrounded by heavenly music and enveloped in prayer. I’m still very much a baby-bishop, tip-toeing my way through all the ‘firsts’ that have to be done while discovering everything I wasn’t told about – or hadn’t heard, which is more likely – before taking up the Shepherd’s Crook.
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Fortunately, the Good Shepherd is permanently on hand to guide and strengthen each one of us. I have found that as the ‘weight of this calling’ has begun to bed in that my morning and evening prayer times have taken on a new urgency. I do miss saying the Daily Office and celebrating mass in the parish and the constancy of friendship with colleagues and parishioners, but I’m also enjoying discovering new contexts and new people in which and through whom the good news of Jesus is proclaimed.
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Proclaiming the Gospel has never been easy – the Gospel challenges and unsettles but when heard and received is life-giving. In days gone by it was spread by people walking from place to place, or travelling on horseback, wagon or ship. Today the internet and social media platforms are integrated into almost every aspect of life in most parts of the world. Proclaiming and living the Gospel faithfully, with genuine love, compassion and forgiveness in cyber-space is as important as doing so in our traditional community spaces. The Church got a lot better at this during the pandemic and I am trying to do my bit through Facebook too. I don’t like Twitter, but I may have to get on board with it and I’ve downloaded Instagram but as yet haven’t done anything with it. If I’m honest, I’m not sure how to use it effectively.
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I’ve discovered that being a bishop means that people from all over the place want to be my Facebook friends. I’ve not yet reached the dizzy numbers of friends or followers that will make me an Influencer with multi-million-pound sponsorship deals! I am pleased about that because it is clear that some folk who claim to be friends are up to no good and our relationships have been short-lived. There have also been people from across the globe who have begun asking for help because of the dire straits they claim to be in. As a parish priest, I could meet people, see them, talk to them and discern if requests were genuine or not and offer help appropriately if needed. That’s not possible on social media and some people have been blocked. But how do I know that in blocking I’m not being like the priest who crossed over the road and walked by, leaving an injured person to suffer?
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That’s a new emotion I’m learning to live with. I hope it will make me more acutely aware of need and suffering in the places I travel through and to and therefore make me a more effective pastor. I pray too that all local churches, wherever they are, will be places of welcome, care and respite: the ‘field hospitals’ that Pope Francis talks about.
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The Pope looked frail during the funeral of his predecessor and before that during the Christmas Day Mass broadcast from the Vatican. Pope Emeritus Benedict and Pope Francis were very different people. I have found them both to be hugely influential. Together with Pope St John Paul II and our late Queen they provide an example of life-long Christian service and commitment. For most of us however, they have always been somewhat distant, even though we may have felt close to them. Fortunately, there are similar people to be found in all our parish churches and communities. I’m meeting more and more as I travel across the north of England – faithful, life-long followers of Jesus whose voice is so often ignored, but when heard is full of wisdom and experience. I’m reminded that this Candlemas, when we hear once more of Simeon and Anna, I must give thanks to God for our modern-day equivalents. Not least because so many live out a vocation of intercessory prayer for us all. If you are one of our Simeons and Annas reading this, thank you!
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I was delighted when the person who administered the medical prior to my consecration told me that my metabolic age was thirty-eight! There are times, however, when I feel older than I am and a little more frayed than I should be. My ten-month-old Cockapoo is full of cheeky bounce: she found my new zucchetto recently and chewed its top off. If I ever look more worn out than usual, it’s most likely going to be because of her boundless energy than the pressures of episcopal ministry.