Across faiths, coronavirus pandemic alters worship, rites

London and its environs are home to a notable diversity of faiths and flocks. Rites that have been the bedrock of their beliefs for centuries had to evolve swiftly during the pandemic lockdown to be safe and relevant for the faithful amid global uncertainty.

In the Hertfordshire county village of Northchurch, Anglicans normally worship in the more than 1,000-year-old St. Mary's Church. That ended March 24 when the Church of England closed all its buildings, and Canon Rev. Jonathan Gordon began recording and broadcasting weekly services via smartphone with the help of Rachel Gordon, his wife.

In Neasden, a suburb northwest of London, a magnificent Hindu temple of carved stone constructed according to ancient Vedic architectural texts usually welcomes thousands of visitors a day. Now the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir gets just a trickle of devotees who book appointments online first to keep the crowds down and are told to wear face masks.

Everywhere there are reminders of the unusual times: Instead of donation boxes, smart screen devices flashing images of Hindu deities allow for contactless donations, and after each prayer session, workers in full-body protective suits swoop in to spray and sanitize any surface that may have been touched.

On a recent day at a suburban home in Hemel Hempstead, three female members of the Patel family dressed in their best saris watched attentively in their living room as Hindu swamis and gurus spoke to them through their video screen. "That is what we would have worn to the temple," said Hemali Patel, "so it felt only right to dress for the occasion."

Taking worship services virtual has been particularly challenging for the Orthodox Jewish community, members of which are proscribed from using electronics on Shabbat, their day of rest. Rabbi Mordechai Chalk broadcasts video services from his home Fridays just before sunset, as Shabbat nears.

Nestled in the Chiltern Hills northwest of London, the Buddhist Amvrati monastery decided to simply close its doors and retreat inward to protect the communal way of life of its yellow-robed monks.

At the Cambridge Central Mosque in the city of the same name, Imam Ali Tos has found solace in a slow reopening and the mosque's essential role in the lives of the faithful.

Mats are now spaced a meter and a half apart during communal prayers, and worshippers are asked to bring their own. People's names and numbers are meticulously collected for possible contact-tracing purposes.

Rabbi David Mason, who heads an Orthodox synagogue in North London, recalled going to a Jewish cemetery to preside over a funeral and being "aghast" at the rows of new graves, often several people being interred the same day.

But religions have endured trauma countless times before, and indeed, many of the tenets of faith held dear today were born out of hardship and suffering. And today's pandemic has not been without its lighter moments.

Mason said he took joy from knowing tech-savvy volunteers were spending hours on the phone patiently helping older community members get online for services.