I remember trying to hold back waves of laughter and giggles as we struggled valiantly through Jerusalem the Golden; coming in on the wrong key, we were now in the midst of the ridiculous task of signing the hymn at a far higher pitch than anyone would consider advisable, or even possible. It was the evening of the PA Induction Service, and I was surrounded by people I didn’t know about to embark on a task for which I felt ill-prepared. Afterwards, in the sacristy, we laughed again at the memory of how badly the hymn had gone, and I had commented that the mishaps are what often make things memorable, that I’m sure in the years to come we’d remember laughing over the poorly sung hymn better than anything else. Here I am, almost a year later, and that memory of laughing through Jerusalem the Golden remains the clearest recollection I have from my first week here. 

For better or worse, it’s often the things that have gone wrong that we remember best. Nobody remembers that dinner party where we all had a nice time, ate good food and were home by ten. We remember the dinner party where someone dropped the cake, a screaming row broke out, we ended up drinking far too much and staying out far too late. In the murky waters of memory, those screw-ups stick out clearly, defined in a way the cloudy merged memories of those successful moments do not. 

And yet, those memories of poorly sung hymns, questionable nights out, and tripping over, are rarely what defines us; they are rarely what shapes us. We are more readily moulded by the love and care we have received, the mentorship of others and, if we allow it, the love of God. During my time here I have made many mistakes. There have been days that I have muddled liturgies, said the wrong thing or forgotten something. Still I have been treated with grace, love and forgiveness. 

I feel that I have so much to say that I could fill books with memories, anecdotes and messages of thanks to you, the wonderful community of Holy Innocents, who have welcomed me into your community, welcomed me into your hearts, often into your homes. My year here has shaped me more than any other time in my life, I have been shaped through your love and care, through the times when things went wrong and you laughed with me not at me, through the hospitality I have received and helped to extend to others. It would be easy, this year more than any other, to focus on what has gone wrong. After all, I have spent the last few months hardly seeing any of you in person. But that would not do any of us justice.

Living through the Coronavirus has brought into stark relief just how important communities such as ours are. When things go wrong, we can either let that be the defining moment, the defining memory, or make our response the more important part. We have gone through something really difficult and hard this year. But I don’t wish to dwell on the difficulties faced, not because they’re not important, but because it has been the way we have come together as a community which has been more powerful. We have come together to worship God in new ways, chat to each other on the phone and on Zoom, and help the communities around us through prayer and worldly means. Even when we could not touch physically, we have held each other regardless, and loved each other through the most difficult of times. 

In some ways, I was right: it is singing Jerusalem the Golden that I remember most vividly. But the laughing and love that overflowed from the mishap is what defined the memory for me, what made it special. Some things are inevitable, that we will struggle and that we will make mistakes, are two of those things. It’s our response to those difficulties that expresses who we are as people. 

At Holy Innocents, I have been able to witness the grace that comes from taking our struggles and faults, and loving each other through them. On that evening of the PA Induction Service I very badly sang ‘I know not, O I know not, what joys await us there’. I know, now, something of that joy and grace, and I leave with some to carry with me. 

Please keep me in your prayers as I will keep you in mine.

With love,

Clem