(Not) going swimming

Good morning.

I recently decided to take up swimming – I’m not a great swimmer, but I hear that it’s good for the whole body. I found my local pool online, and got up early one morning to go there. I don’t know about you, but new things like this – as small as they seem – can make me more anxious than familiar things, even if those ones are more complex. It can feel easier to stay within what we know: veering from this demands new internal ‘muscles’. I arrived at the leisure centre, ready to be congratulated for my dawning bravery: only to find that there were no people behind the desk, but only screens, on which to scan in. I didn’t know I needed to book ahead using an app! With the morning slots already filled up, I could only turn around and go home.

This stung. I’m a relatively young man, and as a priest my current role involves working with young people each day – so I like to think I’m fairly literate in the world of tech. But to be thwarted by a computer in this way felt frustrating, and silencing.

Ultimately, this is no big deal – I’ve now learned for next time how to book a slot at the pool. But it gave me thought to people, young and old, who for whatever reason can be isolated in a world that has become mediated by screens. Pope John Paul II once said, “the body… and only the body, is capable of making visible what is invisible: the spiritual and the divine.” When we remove each other from a situation, we remove the soul of that other, and we’re prevented from a moment of encounter, which we so need – even just to say, ‘please can I go swimming’. In a world of ultra-connectivity, we each need to make an effort to seek real and deep connection with the people around us – let’s resolve to begin with those around us today.

Lord,
you have made us in your image.
Help us to know what a gift our humanity is,
and allow it to be seen by others.
Amen.