One of the things I enjoy about living in this benefice is the active community that there is in the villages. Some of you will remember when there were more pubs and more shops in walking distance from our homes, and will, no doubt, have been saddened by their closure. Even in my time here, I have seen the Green Man pull its last pint and have experienced the resultant sadness. It is well understood that these places did not only provide the service that was declared on the lintel or emblazoned over the windows but were also a valuable venue for conversation and the nurturing of friendships. This is obviously the case for pubs which are set up with seats and tables and designed for the purpose of allowing people to spend time in one another’s company, but the same is true to some extent of other commercial establishments, too. When Mrs Smith popped into the grocer’s, she would invariably emerge having been warmly greeted by the shopkeeper and other villagers who happened to be there at the same time – Mrs Johnson who had come from next door in the butcher’s and Mr Jones who was just grabbing a banana whilst rushing off to catch a train (and who was late – as usual). News would have been shared – whether about her most recent aches and pains or about the lovely new family that had moved in next door to the newsagent – and somehow these little touchpoints made the whole community feel connected. There were always folk who kept themselves to themselves, of course, and undoubtedly some who were desperately lonely, but the “High Street” was in some sense like a heart – pumping life into the community with every encounter, every quickly-spoken “How do you do?” and every doffed cap.
It is because of this that the loss of the specialist shops, Post Offices and pubs in villages has been serious for community life – a body doesn’t work as well if its heart function is reduced. To some extent, most of us are culpable in causing the heart disease, because we (well, most of us) go to the towns for our shopping and for many of our leisure activities – largely because of the cheaper prices and the variety on offer. Indeed, the fact that there are any local amenities at all in these dot-com days of home-delivery can only be a happy accident.
Amazingly, despite the enormous loss of amenity (and to my delight, as I have already mentioned), community life continues in our villages. In part, this is because of the legacy of former generations who have left us a Village Hall, a school and a church, all of which offer their precious services to the residents, their families and friends. These institutions, working informally for the good of the parish alongside the Parish Council which has certain formal obligations, are acting like pacemakers, ensuring that the community continues to function, even though the heart is broken beyond repair. However, what we must note is that not one of these institutions is autonomous – they are all powered by people; people who are themselves generous-hearted and community-minded, people who give their own time, energy and talents (and even sometimes their money) for the benefit of their neighbours – even neighbours they may never have met. So I want to say a public “Thank you!” to all the people who work to make our villages more than just collections of houses and to encourage everyone to do their bit. Human nature tends to lead us to look after ourselves, but the way of the kingdom of heaven, exemplified and taught by Jesus is to serve others. Shall we?
May you know the blessing of the Lord who gave himself for you.