IN the latest of our series on interfaith responses to the coronavirus crisis, former Bishop of Bradford, now Bishop of Leeds the Rt Revd. Nick Baines reflects upon what a reading of the Hebrew Scriptures might teach us about coping in this crisis, and Sofia Buncy, national co-ordinator at the Khidmat Centre, outlines her essential work that has continued throughout the pandemic, and how her faith drives her to do it:

* Bishop Nick Baines: “The visitation of the Covid-19 plague has come as a shock to those in our society who always assumed that life would carry on as normal, but hopefully getting better. We made plans, booked holidays, filled our diaries...and then it all just stopped. In one sense, the world ended. And it might be a very long time before our way of life resembles something recognisable from the past.

Yet, this experience isn’t new - at least for most human beings on the planet. The Anglican Diocese of Leeds has had a close partnership link for 40 years with Sudan. Our brothers and sisters there have lived for decades with uncertainty, deprivation, suffering and powerlessness. Lacking resources of stuff, they have had to rely on their faith in God and one another. When I was out there in Khartoum in early 2019 the people needed no lessons on the fragility of life or the transience of power; their way of life was often precarious - a contrast to the confidence we in the west often assume about today and tomorrow.

This has all been on my mind since the Covid-19 crisis began and life as we know it began to change. Economic power began to look shaky as businesses began to close and our own government started to borrow huge amounts of money in order to keep some of them afloat. Political power, covered by the rhetoric of confidence, looked less assured than it had even a month before lockdown. We were all making it up as we went along - including Christians creating new ways of worship, pastoral care and service while buildings remain closed. Muslims are celebrating Ramadan under restrictions that change the nature of the experience for them.

Well, I said that none of this is new. A reading of the Hebrew scriptures brings home the nature of this disorientating experience. In the eighth century BC the people were carted off into exile in a strange land. Everywhere they looked and everything they heard (by the rivers of Babylon) told them that their life - as they had known it - had now ended. If the Babylonian empire was powerful and victorious, this only went to prove that the God of Israel was a loser. It’s called “rubbing it in”. So, how were these people to cope?

In fact, they coped by singing songs, rehearsing the stories of their people, and gradually (not instantly - life isn’t like that and people don’t work like that) began to look forward. This meant looking to the time when they might return ‘home’. Yes, they romanticised their past and fantasised about their future; but they also had to address the present reality without simply wishing it away. It became clear who were the people who simply got lost in the misery of loss and those who, experiencing the loss, began to shape what might be ahead of them. I think this is where we are now. And Christians (among others) will shape the future with courage, vision and hope.”

* Sofia Buncy: “It is now our second month of lockdown and like many people, I have many concerns, fears and irrational thoughts. Manageable days and unwieldy days. Ultimately, they steer me back to my faith, especially now during the month of Ramadhan.

I wouldn’t say I am a perfect Muslim in the ritual sense. I fail on many accounts. I am very much still a ‘work in progress’ but I think that’s what makes us human, those rugged edges, and I’m ok with that.

What I am always is God conscious and Islam allows the flexibility for us to worship and remember our lord in more ways than one. One aspect I am proud to say I embody is an unfaltering sense of social responsibility as a Muslim to support others, carry out charitable work and live my faith as opposed to just ‘believe in my faith’.

Over the years I have been fortunate enough to be a tool God has used to carve support for the most vulnerable. From doing aid work in the height of the drought and famine in Somaliland, helping raise funds to educate underprivileged girls in Kashmir to highlighting and supporting the plight of Muslim women prisoners in British prisons for close enough a decade. The Almighty has always laid out his itinerary for me. It is by no means imposed, it is a very subtle ask, difficult to explain but he plants in my heart a compassion, a yearning and restlessness to fulfil the servitude of others.

So why would the pandemic be any different? Amidst the calamity, the fear and sheer vulnerability between life and death, I find myself still in his sujood (prostration), despite the concerns of family and friends. I run a community food bank, have provided Muslim women prisoners with essential resources such as prayer books and dates to enable them to observe their fast in the 23-hour prison lockdown and am a daily listening ear for so many feeling vulnerable and alone. You might ask why? I ask myself that too. I would like to believe hope conquers the fear of ‘the other’. That goodness prevails. That the almighty’s promise is nearing and that verily, with hardship comes ease (Holy Quran 94:6)

* To contribute to the blog ‘Keeping Faith - An interfaith response to the coronavirus pandemic’ by Revd. Jenny Ramsden, Interfaith Adviser for Bradford and Leeds, go to keeping-faith.org