I recall church bells ringing in the village in Austria where I was living when Pope John Paul II died.
We live in a residential neighbourhood on the outskirts of Brussels. In a square near our apartment sits a church. It’s not the most beautiful church I’ve ever seen, but its tower stands out and its bells ring to announce the mass. In normal times, that’s 8:15 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Sundays at 9:30 and 11:00am. We have occasionally attended the Dutch-language mass Sundays at 11am. More frequently, we attend a French-language mass at a Jesuit church a short metro ride away.
But, these of course are not normal times. Belgium, like much of the world, has ordered its residents to avoid mass gatherings to prevent the spread of the deadly COVID-19 virus. This means that churches have banned public masses.
Now the church bells serve a different purpose. They ring at 8pm every night to remind the neighbourhood that that is the appointed time to stand outside on our balconies and applaud healthcare workers and other employees performing essential functions, such as keeping grocery store shelves stocked and food being delivered.
I like it that even if we aren’t worshipping corporally for now, out of protection for our most vulnerable (most attendees at the 11am Sunday mass are definitely in the “high risk” age group), the church continues to serve a role at the center of village life.
There’s something very quaint, but still very beautiful about this. It reminds me of watching a movie set in an earlier era in which the church bells would ring when there was important news, such as the death of a monarch or the declaration of war. I recall church bells ringing in the village in Austria where I was living when Pope John Paul II died.
The ringing of the bells at 8pm too also serve as a reminder to residents in the neighbourhood who aren’t active churchgoers or believers at all that the church is there and it is part of the community even if its bells aren’t ringing in these times for any explicitly sacramental purpose.
I know that some people are very worried about how this crisis will impact churches. Especially in the United States, there is concern that the lack of weekly collection for possibly months will cause churches to close. That would be sad, because churches, even like the one in our neighbourhood that is hardly a cathedral, serve an important role in the life of a community.
For example, in the church in our neighbourhood, we’ve noticed when we go to mass there that there’s an impoverished lady sitting in the back of the church near the door. She’s using the church for shelter and the church seems to let her.
In the Gospel, Jesus says to his disciples, “what you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me.” It’s no secret that Christians of all stripes, myself included, don’t always live up to this standard. But many churches, here in Brussels and across the world, are doing their best and in various ways. Whether it’s quietly letting a homeless person take shelter in the church or opening up courses on theology and philosophy to the general public, as the Jesuit community here has done, churches are important community spaces, and not only for weekly mass goers.
When masses start again, we will go, but it may take a while for people to come back, especially those who may have frail health, and that’s completely understandable. Still, I hope that churches will continue to be able live the Gospel command to do what we can to help lift up those who struggle.
Todd