I cannot now remember the number of times that I have sat in the Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford, wearing an academic gown of either red or black according to the occasion. This time, however, it was Kim Samuel who was in red; the Trappist Bishop Erik Varden wore a thick black scapular over a white habit with a thick brown belt. Until his consecration and return to Norway as Bishop-Prelate of Trondheim in 2019 he was Abbot of Mount St Bernard Abbey in Leicestershire. Kim, meanwhile, is the founder and Chief Belonging Officer of the Samuel Centre for Social Connectedness; she is also the Fulbright Canada ambassador for diversity and social connectedness.
On the afternoon of Sunday 5 March both had come to the Sheldonian, the formal ceremonial arena where students have for centuries been admitted to the community of the University, under the auspices of the Oxford Poverty and Human Development Initiative (OPHI), where Kim is presently a Visiting Fellow, to discuss two of their respective books: Bishop Erik’s The Shattering of Loneliness: On Christian Remembrance (Bloomsbury Continuum, 2018) and Kim’s more recent On Belonging: Finding Connection In An Age of Isolation (Abrams Press, 2022).
Entirely by coincidence, but not without significance, we met not long after various controversial messages of government ministers relating to Covid-19 lockdown measures in the UK had appeared in the press. Deep in the bowels of Christopher Wren’s masterpiece, then, I dived straight in and asked both Kim and Bishop Erik what their one takeaway lesson from lockdown had been, in light of the deep reflecting that they have done on loneliness and isolation: its consequences for many. What mistakes might have been made? Kim was clear that there had been a lack of consideration and care “about what were obviously going to be massive downsides from the start, in terms of physically isolating people”.
She cited not allowing children to go to school as a prime example: “not considering what the effects would be on mental health, on self-esteem, on socialising, on connecting with one another. We know that we are social creatures; we know that we need each other; we know that we function in community together; and yet, I’d say that through not considering – and this sounds ironic – ‘the people side’ of all this, that we’ve done a lot of shattering.”
Kim quoted the title of Bishop Erik’s book quite consciously, and we agreed that there has been a very profound human cost to the lockdowns, as necessary as they may or may not have been. To Bishop Erik I asked a slightly different question, as he is a member of an order committed to reflection, prayer, silence and listening. What kind of witness does that sort of community life have to offer in a world recovering from the effects of isolation, with people learning to live with one another again?
He did not need long. “We can show that it is possible at all,” he said, “to construct a community based on shared aims, shared purpose, shared desire; that it is possible beyond the inevitable and obvious varieties of personalities and sensibilities. Even in a quiet monastery you have more and less quiet people; it’s always been that way. Most monastic communities are extremely unlikely combinations of individuals. In my community we joke that it we weren’t spending our entire lives together, we’d never have met!”
“And yet, it works,” he went on. “Obviously any communal reality that is permanent will create tensions and challenges that have to be overcome, but it is possible to create an intentional community that is a source of life for people who live there, and a source of life for people who come to visit. Even the quietest monastery has its power, and its raison d’être, and an open door to visitors.” I wonder if that is part of the lesson as things begin to return to normal – external engagement.
I put it to both Kim and Bishop Erik that openness to the other may be at least part of the solution for however long it takes for us to come together as a society again. “Openness to community is an openness to whatever is possible,” said Kim. “I would like to see this much more – whether in a geographical community or in small communities or in large communities, or communities around a particular idea. Things will go much better if people are allowed to reflect on their experience of isolation, and take in what they have learned. Hopefully some of that will stick.”
We moved onto the internet, with all its pros and cons. During lockdown it became a lifeline, of course, but would it continue to be a force for wholesome engagement now that the worst is over? I asked Bishop Erik whether in terms of religious community it might be an ongoing means of evangelisation. Would it raise vocations, for example, in people on the other side of the world who have engaged with monastic life through social media and other channels? “I think it’s happened already,” he observed.
“The internet is a worldwide notice board. From a monastic point of view it’s very valuable to have a presence there, so that people can see what the life looks like, and can get in touch. But at the same time I don’t think that anything ever can or will be a substitute for the necessity of encounter. A Zoom meeting can work extremely well with people you know already, where there’s an existing dynamic. But it can be very difficult to begin a conversation on Zoom, because of the absence of physical proximity.”
“There’s tremendous potential,” he concluded, “but human beings need to meet one another; they need to be face to face”. It’s all very incarnational, in its way; God’s own engagement with human encounter, which really matters. Kim summed it up succinctly: “I’d add one word: ‘meaningful’. It has to be meaningful human encounter. That’s maybe the one thing to remember on the other side of the lockdowns: we need to cherish meaningful human encounter more than before, because now we know what it is not to have them.”
With that I let Kim and Bishop Erik go and prepare for the public discussion that was to follow. Back upstairs, the audience gathered while the Thames Opera Company sang choruses from the classics – it believes in opera for all to the extent of welcoming members regardless of background, age, or musical ability. Chaired by Matthew Bishop, the Economist’s former US business editor, Kim and Bishop Erik discussed their subject in the context of the challenges facing the world today: the Ukraine war; the cost of living crisis; the lingering effects of lockdown.
It was a diverse audience, about 400 strong, of all shades and shapes and ages who filled the floor and spread into the lower galleries; two BSL signers at the front provided for the needs of the deaf. The Senior Catholic Chaplain to the University, Fr Matthew Power SJ, was there; so was Newman’s successor as Vicar of the University Church, Dr William Lamb – Kim is also, as it happens, an Anglican. A couple of Conventual Franciscans – Greyfriars – were outnumbered by a row of four Dominicans of varying seniority and size.
Kim’s own work focusses on four dimensions of human belonging: relationships with others; rootedness in nature; ability to exercise influence on decision-making; and the quest for meaning and purpose. She conceded that it’s still not complete: “I’ve not come up with answers, and I’m ok with that. But I’m asking better questions!”
Meanwhile Bishop Erik has explored questions that trouble thinking humans like isolation, the need for community, the way in which both affect humanity’s understanding both of the Word of God and of itself, and all in the wider context of a world that seems constantly to be facing crises of morality and of culture. Faith was never very far from the conversation, and it fell to the bishop to explore its theological dimensions. He noted that the call of faith was to conversion of life: “to be ready to pardon, and to be pardoned – which may be even more difficult.”
The whole event will is available online, for readers to engage with at their leisure. Both Kim and Bishop Erik gave their listeners much food for thought, before taking questions from the floor. Another musical performance drew proceedings to a close, this time courtesy of Ziqo, the largest recording artist in Mozambique. He spent most of it dancing enthusiastically behind Fr Timothy Radcliffe OP, who gamely clapped along to the beat. A lavish drinks reception followed in the historic Divinity School, just next door. Champagne and canapés in one of the finest rooms in the world: surely the best kind of belonging of all, especially on a Sunday in Lent.
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