Being 'religious'

In the last few months I have realised that I am religious. It may sound weird, that I have only just realised this, looking at my life:

- I've identified as Christian since I was 6
- I have worn a crucifix 24/7 since I was 14, so for almost a decade
- I have been going to church every week for over 4 years

- I'm baptised and, more importantly, confirmed
- I've been increasingly involved in church life, including
     - singing in the choir
     - reading the gospel
     - being a server
     - running the Circus Spirit
     - substituting for the cantor
- I pray daily
- I use prayer beads
- I get ashed and wear it for the rest of the day
- I plan on reading the Bible in a year in 2016
- I keep a spiritual journal
- I stay overnight and sleep in the church for the Easter Vigil
- I even took a month off work to volunteer in Advent

To other people, I am obviously religious. I, and others, find it odd if I don't wear a cross, and I get angsty if I miss a Sunday morning for whatever reason. In such a precarious career as freelance theatre stage manager, church is one of the anchors in my life, alongside my family, my boyfriend, and my friends. My aims in life include living by the Great Commandment, and the Golden Rule; being a disciple to Jesus; centering and orientating my life around my relationship with God.

I'm obviously religious. But if you had asked me last year what I identified as, the list would not have included 'religious'. It was only when someone asked me if one of my friends at church was religious that I said "well, yeah, he is, but he only goes to church as much as I do...oh..." and the penny dropped.

I was taken aback. I almost wanted to defend myself against the accusation. And it's this reaction that has made me think about it a bit deeper. Why did I not want to be called 'religious', when it is true? I'm not claiming the "I'm not religious, I'm spiritual" thing, but I would much rather be 'a person of faith'.

'Faith' has a better rep than religion. I think it's definitely a generational thing; there's a feeling of peer pressure to avoid the 'religious' label, and in many ways, a common issue young Christians have is an instinct to hide their religion. Easier to come out as bisexual than Christian! Millennials pride themselves of being progressive, and liberal, and reasonable, and that leads to a rejection of all things seen as not based on reason, including any spirituality or, and especially, a belief in God. Believing in God is often seen as an indication of inferiority, and so going as far as to be religious itself implies an

irrational adherence to dogma. Modern Western mainstream culture seems to take the view that, alongside gender and race equality, freedom of sexuality, and freedom of speech, the conclusion that there is no God is the obvious, and basically only acceptable, conclusion. It's fashionable to hate religion.

One cannot be religious and considered reasonable, rational, even maybe intelligent. So I think my initial instinct to reject the term comes from a fear that it will class me in the same category as religious fundamentalists, religious nutters, religious terrorists, religious indoctrination, conservatism, creationism, zealots, the judgmental, the out of touch. Calling people religious is often a way of excluding them based on assumptions about their views or behaviour ie. it's a label, so in narrow minds leads to prejudice.

But I am religious. Not because I have been indoctrinated, not because I think everyone should live their lives the way I do, and not because it's easier. I am religious because I practice religion, but I

practice good religion. Bad religion is exactly what Jesus railed against when arguing with the Pharisees etc. Good religion is a structure, a set of tools to sustain the faith, the relationship with Jesus, God, the universe. The practices, the actions and works are not the important bit, but I need them, flawed human being as I am, to keep up my end of the relationship. I use the combined wisdom of the tradition and scripture to give me a head start, rather than starting at the beginning on my own. I wouldn't get anywhere! It's also a useful motivation to do things that, even though reason and experience tell me I should, I probably wouldn't end up doing if on my own.

This is if I get it right, and I do fail, of course I do. When I fail, my religiosity is just as insubstantial and a distortion as it was when Jesus threw his wobbly in the Temple. And that's where the negativity of 'religious' catches me, and makes me squirm. It's a reminder that though I am aware of good religion, and I try my best, religion gets in my way sometimes, making me no better than the fundamentalists I so desperately do not want to be.

But my hope is that I get it right enough to outweigh when I get it wrong. I hope I can live a life that is, yes, religious, but in a way that makes people rethink their assumption that being religious is necessarily a negative thing. I find so much that is good, and useful, and wonderful, in religion, and somehow, I hope I can show that to others.

PS a good book to show more of the good in religion than the "religions do good stuff" argument, I recommend Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton.

Video: Frustration

I had a thought the other day when discussing my next appointment with Lucy, the rector, about how I keep falling into the comforting delusion that the discernment process is trundling along and I'm going to speed along through it.

Nope.

Video: Update on not much happening

So I managed in this video to totally forget about the volunteering I'm doing at church and all my advent goings on as well! I've done several shifts on the Traidcraft stall, including having a chat with the manager of St James' Piccadilly Market about how he has made the market more of a cohesive part of the church's activity, rather than something separate that just happens to rent the courtyard; I've been singing in various services; 'peopling', which is sitting in the church to say hi to visitors; and I've been cast as Mary for our Christmas Eve children's service! My brother was Joseph in his nativity play at primary school, but I've finally done it! (age 23).

I've contacted the army chaplain I mentioned in my last post, so arranging that meeting is in the works, which is very exciting. I read her book as well, which was interesting, as memoirs generally are, not that I read a lot of them. Vis. other homework, I haven't got to any other services yet, as I thought I might not, but I do need to remember to at some point in the new year get on with that; and I feel like this past Sunday I did reconnect with service as a punter in the pew. Part of this I think is my progress in connecting with prayer, which is obviously a major part of the service. So that's nice.

And our associate rector has suggested pointing this blog out to the diocese. I feel all sorts of things about this. It is terrifying. First, as much as I am aware that I'm writing on the internet and therefore it will be read by strangers, the possibility of exposure, of being publicised, and marketed, is daunting. I worry that it would add pressure, whereas this blog should be an organic outpouring. Second, the possibility of censure. I need to know I can write pretty much anything on here, and if the diocese is anyway want to back this little project, they may want a say in the content. And of course, the very nature of the project is going to involve my opinion of the process I'm about to embark on, which is done by the diocese. How much freedom will I have to criticise the process? This is meant to be an open, honest log of my experience, good and bad.

I may be over-thinking it, it may be fine. I also feel so excited about the prospect. What an opportunity! I would like this blog to survive in posterity, and be available as a resource for people in my position who don't have anything similar, so to have it broadcast by an official branch of vocation that those people might encounter is surely a good thing. I'm also nervous if it affects my prospects. I'm happy my associate rector thinks it's a good blog worth pointing out to the higher-ups. I feel inadequate as a novice blogger. In some ways I want to take up the challenge, as I would be determined to do well and be worthy of the attention. There's also the potential embarrassment of the publicity not attracting any more attention.

What my experience as a stage manager can bring to being a priest

This is a helpful little exercise I've decided to set myself as I'm vaguely aware that there are a lot of transferable skills and experiences, but I've never done a thorough run down. It's certainly from a secular angle, tackling the part of being a priest that is actually 'a job'. So here goes:

The big one is Relationships. Reading the Summary of Criteria 'relationships' section is very similar to reading a realistic job description for a stage manager. In SM, you're biggest responsibility is your relationships, and being the central force to establish and sustain cohesive working relationships, creating boundaries, and maintaining a professional standard, whilst also being the department that provides the pastoral care. Stage managers are the ones company members come to with any problem, and that often can include things not related to the show. It becomes habit - "I have a problem: I'll go to the stage manager." The ability to be inclusive within diversity is paramount as well, as the theatre is full of more varied selection of people than outsiders might think - a stage manager cannot reject any of them, even the really annoying ones, or the ones who can't do their jobs (as much as we would sometimes like to).

The next biggest one is Stress or Pressure. The responsibility of a stage manager is broad and deep,

with little things and big things of wildly different sorts all coming under their remit - the prop pencils on the set desk have to be arranged just so, and also the company time sheets have to be cataloged; make the coffee, and also coordinate the timetable to accommodate every single department's needs. Often needing to be in three places at once, doing a lot of running around the building/city, coming in first and leaving last, being expected to be in charge of facilitating everyone else's ideas in time, to budget, often without much help. All with the other expectation that you are the cheery one, the calm one, the one that knows everything that's going on even (though no one seems to bother to tell you anything), the one everyone can rely to put in the extra effort, and achieve miracles out of nothing.

Piggy in the middle AKA the SM department

I like to call one of the traits of stage management Translation, and I think this applies to being a priest as well. It means being a radial point from which vastly different spokes connect for the one interconnecting reason or goal, and therefore needing to know exactly what each spoke wants, how it operates, what it needs out of the other spokes, how to get that, and most importantly, how to translate the one's needs into the other's language so they can coordinate.

Linked that idea is involvement in Negotiation/Conflict. Your spokes, even with you translating, can push against each other, and as the radial point, it is your job to put the reason/goal for working together first, often reminding them of it - the stage manager is the person who puts the show and the humanity of the people involved first, helping everyone compromise to achieve their shared goal (once they've remembered what that was) and do what is best for that goal and each other, rather than letting ulterior motives, or petty issues of pride dictate the company's choices.

A little bit of blasphemy...

How does one achieve that? Change and Flexibility. Being able to speak the language includes adapting to each spoke's needs. But also on different shows, the lighting spoke on this show might be very different to the lighting spoke on the last show eg style, people, resources. The stage manager has to still hit all the criteria, but that can look very different when you have more direct people, less people, no money, rather than people who 'play the game', loads of people, and a bit more money (it is never enough money...). How I interact with my line manager or my director has looked vastly different show-to-show, based on the sort of people they are and the show we're doing.

It comes down to Facilitating, Collaborating, and Communicating.

At least on the outside...

So what sort of characteristics does a stage manager need? I'm going to copy and paste from the Criteria again. Mature and Stable - there are enough egos, motivations, dreams, emotions and mental states to deal with and manage, without the person who's supposed to coordinate them adding to the complicated mix. Stage managers are relied upon, by dint of being stage management, to keep calm. It is the stage management department that in practical terms, has 'being the grown ups' as part of the job description. That also means having an exterior support network that you can rely on when you need time to be your own person, so as not to lose you humanity. You have dreams and emotions and the rest of it too, so it's important to have people in your life you can express those to, when most of your time is spent putting them aside for the sake of others.

Another thing that a company will rely on is the Integrity, the Trustworthy-ness of its stage management. It's that putting the humanity of people first thing again, and going back to the acceptance of all, rejection of none motif. If you go to your stage manager with a problem, as part of their role as problem solvers, the importance of trusting their judgement, and also knowing that you won't be judged yourself, is paramount for that vulnerable relationship to function.

This links in with the element of Leadership. SMs have 'manager' in their titles, even the assistants. I find this one quite challenging, as I've never been a person people naturally follow. Enough words have been written on the characteristics of leadership without me adding much to them, but for an SM, or a priest, it is a leadership through serving, ultimately. You make decisions, give advice, lay down the law occasionally, but when you get down to it, we are doing all we can to improve the lives of the flocks we have committed to minister to with everything we have in us, and bring about a creation, a world where all are happy, their dreams have come true, and (S)He's purpose for us all has been brought about. (People in my life have realised that I may tell an anecdote and mention someone known only as 'He' or 'She', and they've worked out that the only person it can be is the director of whatever show I am currently working on, as often, making them happy becomes the centre of my life, and their pronouns are therefore capitalised).

And of course you want to be the cool guy that everyone likes.






The last parallel I'll draw is the element of Lifestyle and Vocation. Okay, so no one gets a 'calling' to be a stage manager, but it is still a vocation in the secular sense. You're not just taking on a job, it's a whole life. You're schedule is precarious, often overloaded and changed last minute. Don't even try and have a sleep pattern. And the diet goes out the window. It sounds like priests often have a similar diet to stage managers on those days when a 'lunch break' or 'dinner' are basically out of the question - microwave meals, a quick sandwich in between or even during meetings, and phrases like "I haven't eaten since breakfast" lose their drama when echoed more than 3 days in every 7. There's an unwritten, unspoken expectation of 24/7 service, and as much as we know we should carve out private lives and personal time, and even rest once in a while, we often find ourselves checking the email, taking the call, or agreeing to do just a little more, because that's not just what we do; it's who we are.

Video: Third informal chat with the rector

First, some initial thoughts from the day itself.

I sat on the train home and managed to write down all the other bits of homework that I didn't mention in that video, and I wrote a few more notes to help me remember the meeting. Lucky I did both those things, as it's now over a week later that I've found the time to sit down to do this blog post!

Things feel like they ramp up after each meeting, unsurprisingly. For example, I talked in that video about getting to other church services - I think that's going to be a long term piece of homework, as I'm not sure when I'm going to have time over the next few weeks. It's important, but I'm cataloging it as a task to keep ongoing, rather than worry myself with doing a church crawl and getting to all the denominations within only a month. And that's only one of nine pieces of homework that came out of that meeting! I'm immediately getting a little anxious, as I was in the beginning, about being able to commit to this process whilst still working. This month is alright, but I start my next show in January, and the last thing I want to do is lose the momentum, as Lucy [my rector] likes to call it.

Imagine the man in the suit is a
woman in a dog collar

Anyway, what did we talk about? Well, I told her about this blog. I was a tad nervous, as I wasn't sure if the discernment process had some nondisclosure feature that I hadn't been aware of; but she liked the idea, especially as I explained how useful it is to have to write for an unknown public audience, which means having to think things through a bit slower and more carefully than just telling friends in person. I have to write for other people with a calling, friends and family who know me personally, atheists who don't know the terminology, people new to the blog - I even have to consider that people in the church who will be concerned with the decision to put me forward for training might read what I put here. That means being honest and whole-hearted in this endeavour, as well as clear and articulate, and of course careful of what I say about others!

We also glossed over my reaction to the Selection Criteria (see this post), things like my sexuality (bisexual) might not be the big deal I think it will, and the fact I feel confident that I can "do academic". Something that came up was the joy I feel when I'm at the front, when I'm serving or cantoring, and the value I gain from leading worship. She warned me not to let the value of worship become entirely external, from the use others make of me. A homework assignment was to reconnect with the services from the pews, not as a server, not a cantor, not even as a Lay Singer. The book I'm reading at the moment, The Christian Priest Today by Archbishop Michael Ramsey, makes the point that a priest is still first a lay person, just as vulnerable and seeking as the people they are leading, and even a bishop is still a priest and still a lay person. It's a good point to remember.

Part of the conversation was about the nature of the role of priest. For example, the priest is not a pyschotherapist. There is listening training, because there is an element within the pastoral remit, but a priest should never try and treat somebody - their support is focused on the spiritual needs of the soul. Don't ignore the rest of the person, but know that it is within that realm that you are the expert called to help.

And we explored a bit more what I wrote above, that priests are still people, and Lucy had another warning, that a priest cannot lose their sense of self and still survive. On the flip side, a priest sacrifices having the choice to just talk to the people they want to - I need to remember this as a member of the team that leads our discussion group for people in their 20s and 30s; we're a pretty new group, but now we're starting to get familiar faces turn up each month, and I have to inhabit my role as welcomer and facilitator, rather than just catching up with the people I'm getting to know and like.

A repeating theme of these discussions is that the most important thing: prayer. Lay people expect a priest to pray. I like the way Lucy put it: When you perform the Eucharist, you've got to be inviting people to the table of someone you know. Prayer is the human method of maintaining and deepening our relationship with God, which as a priest should be at the centre of your life. I'm getting there, very slowly. I'm saying some sort of structured prayer once a day, but we talked about the need to explore silent prayer, extempore prayer, just me and God on our own in private. She set me the task of reading books on how to pray, so I've got two lined up in my ever increasing to-read pile.

We briefly talked of my interest in chaplaincy. She did a panel with some other women priests, including an army chaplain, so she's said she'll see if we can get in touch and meet up, which is very exciting. At the same event, she spoke to some military personnel, and they spoke of their chaplain, or Padre as the military chaplains are generally known, who smoked and swore and rode around Camp Bastion on a quad bike! Obviously they also all the serious business of services etc as well. The main thing the personjnel reflected was that the Padre must care; and I thought "I can do that".

Two last things. There is a chance it could be a 'no', which I can't let myself forget; but I think I will do theology degree either way. And as I said in the video, no promises but she is thinking of referring me to the DDO (diocesan director of ordinands, in charge of vocations in the diocese) in January. Exciting!

Song as Worship and Prayer

I never liked singing in choirs. I tried it at senior school but I didn't like singing the high soprano part but also didn't like not singing the tune on the alto part. So I decided I didn't like choirs and protested all efforts at sixth form to get me back in.

So a few months into being at St James's Piccadilly, I had been enjoying the sung Eucharist. I had previously had a few years of singing lessons, and always privately sung musical theatre and Disney tunes in my bedroom. But it was only then, singing every week, that my love of singing reared up and made itself known as an important tool for worship, so I turned up to a choir practice. It's not really a choir - it's the Lay Singers, with no audition, or even any ability to sing or turn up, required.

Without the pressure of expectation, and with some long-time choristers to cling to as I battled to find my alto line, I got over my dislike of not singing the tune, and actually started to a) sing chorally and b) improve. I realised my voice really suits traditional church music, and the hour before the service rehearsing with the lay singers in the church hall became and still is one of the most fun parts about being at church.

I also started to appreciate how much I connected with the music spiritually. Singing the Kyrie eleison was much more evocative for me than saying it. I well up every time I sing the various heart-wrenching arrangements of the Agnes Dei. If I get a sore throat, I feel like I've had a limb cut off.

The moment that really pinned down for me the connection to God we make when we sing was on the 16th of November 2014. A few months earlier, the cantor at St James' had come to me with a proposition. She, like any other employee, had holidays, which included a number of Sunday mornings thought out the year. I had seen this in action - she booked someone else to cover her, sometimes a professional church singer, sometimes a tenor from the Lay Singers. Her proposition was that I could cantor with the tenor, as a little duo, with the intent of preparing me to do it on my own.

Yeah, just stand at the front and lead the singing *gulp*

I was thrilled and honoured by the opportunity and the responsibility, but it was also a terrifying thought. There's normally 100 people minimum in the congregation at the 11am service; it's a big church for one voice to fill without a mic; I'm only an amateur singer; and lots of regulars are likely to notice if you forget something or do it differently (ie f*ck up).

It went fine of course, and we did a little duet as the anthem over communion. The main thing I was worried about was the blocking, there's even a couple of spins the cantor has to do as part of the gospel procession, but there was no tripping or going the wrong way. Sigh of relief.

I started to do it on my own, and with more frequency, as it was easier to book me rather than an outside professional. I still got paid the fee though, which was an unexpected bonus.

I have grown to love cantoring. It's such lovely music to sing, and it's great fun singing stuff I know and can do well, loudly and proudly. But mostly, I love leading, providing something for people to use in their worship. My favourite comments are not that I sang well, but those occasions when people tell me it really helped them connect, eliciting an emotional, spiritual response.

Esmeralda also also sang to God.

I didn't have the Rose Window to inspire me, but still

So, as I mentioned, part of cantoring involves doing an anthem, a piece of music whilst the congregation is taking communion, and I can't lead a choir, so I do solos and duets.

On the 16th Nov '14, I did a solo for the first time. I was nervous, but I knew I had practised thoroughly. The organ started the introduction and I forced myself to relax, forget about the people listening, and concentrate on the music. I started singing and the familiar notes calmed me further. I realised the building's acoustics were enhancing my voice and I listened as well as sang. As I started the final verse, I was filled with a great sense of joy. I lifted up on the notes and felt like I was shining with bright light. I was singing to God, I was singing with God!

It was such a beautiful moment. My time at St James' has an interlocked path of progress for my faith and my singing. It is my favourite and greatest expression of my faith and the love of God.

And now, a kitten.

Exploring my doubts

Doubt is not something I want to put words to. Admitting that I have doubts about my calling is quite painful. But doubt is an important part of faith. I don't think a lot of people really realise that. I know for example I've had an argument with my boyfriend about the nature of faith - he thought is was something you feel and not based on evidence. I countered that he was describing blind faith, and I did not recognise his definition as the faith I have.

Faith is not always blind

Blind faith is 100% convinced, but true faith has real conviction because it constantly doubts. Why have faith in something if you haven't reason to? I have doubted pretty much every part of my faith, including the big ones like do I believe in God. I like going back to the very Jewish idea, which I think Anglicanism embraces very well, of arguing. Arguing with your faith, interrogating your scripture, contemplating other possibilities. Moses (Exodus 4) immediately springs to mind as someone who directly shouted at God, questioned God (Exodus 3), and in the New Testment, the Apostle Peter wavered in faith (Matt 14); even Jesus had moments, eg. at the Mount of Olives (Luke 22), and I considered not even mentioning Doubting Thomas as the obvious choice.

These doubters were all true role models of faith. And so I feel stronger for being able to follow their example, and speak out about my doubts, to face them head on, in the never-ending struggle and journey of faith.

***

I have worried that I am deluded. Most of the time it makes so much sense to think that I am 'destined' to be a priest, then I scold myself for being so arrogant, then I worry that not feeling special is a sign that it's not a true calling, but surely modesty is better than self-grandeur...

It gets a little cyclical, and I end up feeling lost and guilty. Okay, so confront it, what if I am deluded? (Forgetting the possibility of being deluded that there is a God, and concentrating on the possibility of being deluded that I feel a calling from God). I have been getting more and more religious, so is thinking there's a calling just part of my very thorough way of doing things and being a priest seems the obvious way of 'doing religion thoroughly', and that's the real reason I'm doing it? Does it feel right because it feels like the way to do that part of my life 'properly'?

Okay, I might have a calling, but what if I'm called to something else? Being ordained and being a full time priest is just one of many callings for Christians. I might be copping out of the hard reality of juggling Christianity and other parts of my life. Many people, most Christians in fact, live out their faith whilst in full time secular employment, why do I feel I have to put my Christianity as not just my religion but my job, and not just that but a community role, a life vocation?

Surely I'm not the right person to represent the Church and lead an example of Christ-like living. I've never been naturally a 'people person', and a lot of people find me too loud, boisterous, direct and intense. I have very liberal attitudes to things like sex and relationships that many in the Church would probably object to, even though I go about my love life with as much care to Love God as much as Love Neighbour as any other part of my life. But part of me worries that I'm just wrong. I think I'm doing good not evil, that I'm living conscientiously, trying to not sin, but what if I'm wrong? I swear, take Christ's name in vain, get drunk, shout at my family, buy nice things, don't give change to beggars. There are people in the world who genuinely think I'm a bad person; there's at least one I can think of who probably actually hates me. That doesn't sound like a priest.

No one seems as enthusiastic about it as me. Is their support just politeness? There's a lot in the literature about other people affirming your calling - nope. One crazy stranger, that's all I've had. Not my priest, my boyfriend, my family, my friends, no one has positively said they think it's a good idea. I'm not trying to criticise them - if that's how they feel, I certainly want them to be honest. So if they are, if I'm in the minority of one that thinks I could be a priest, how likely is it that I'm the one that's right?

I have no issues with my human sexuality

Let's look at the Criteria again (see also previous post) and what I can't do or haven't got.

• Others have not confirmed my inner conviction.
• I have barely any spirituality; I generally never sit in prayer to God apart from reading other people's words. Nor have I done any Bible study. I don't see how the world and others have been affected my practice of prayer, and frankly I have serious issues with the notion of 'the power of prayer'. I've never understood how spiritual practice 'sustains and energises'.
• I've struggled with maintaining appropriateness in professional relationships - I'm a flirt, blunt, emotional. I'm an out bisexual - whoops, Issues of Human Sexuality.
• People don't follow me, my leadership skills leave a lot to be desired. How can I offer an example of faith when I feel culturally compelled to not mention God so as not to make atheists uncomfortable?
• I feel anger and fear about mission, a distinct mistrust and aversion to evangelising.

***

So what do I doubt about my calling? I doubt that I'm called at all, I doubt that I'm called specifically to be ordained, I doubt that I'm the right type of person to be ordained, I doubt that I'm right to disagree with my support network, I doubt that I can fit the criteria for being ordained.

And it is terrifying. I hate having doubts. I have so much conviction, assurance and excitement about my calling, it knocks at my core to express doubt. I've used this metaphor before: I have a bedrock of trust in God, on which are pillars of faith, holding up the foundations of my soul, on which the building of my heart sits, in the infusing cloud of my brain. Doubt is lightning spearing from that cloud, and rocking the whole structure. My emotions get knocked about and chaotic, my soul ripples and sends shockwaves through my faith, and my trust is holding firm but not unwobbled.

***

If you want to read the positive side of this argument with myself, read the post Reasons I think I'd make a good priest/want to be priest.

A few books from Church House

After I made this video, I went back to my friend to give her her keys, and I popped into the Church House bookshop because it was nearby. I should not be allowed in bookshops, it's just as dangerous as browsing the Kindle store; my poor bank account suffers terribly. (Previous books I've been reading in response to my calling are listed at the bottom of this post*, and discussed in this post).

Having some hard copy books as well as ebooks is useful to me at the moment, as I'm taking

December off from working in stage management, which means I won't be regularly commuting, the time I usually use to read and therefore suited to a Kindle; reading at home I feel is more suited to a paper and ink copy. I'll try to remember to post every time I get a new book. It will be useful simply for me to keep track!

I bought 4 books at Church House. Two classics that are often on vocation reading lists, and two more specific books. The two classics are Being A Priest Today, and Called or Collared?. The latter has prompted me to draft a new post about my doubts of my calling, which should be up soon.

The first specific book is Military Chaplaincy in Contention, because I've got an interest in chaplaincy, but I'm more interested in military/prison work, rather than hospitals or universities (though an airport sounds quite interesting too, and of course theatre chaplaincy would suit me perfectly, as a professional stage manager). So I'm hoping to get an insight into what military chaplaincy is, because I am woefully ignorant at the moment.

The second is I Think It's God Calling. I liked the look of this because it's a personal account of discernment, going to theological college, and being ordained a deacon, and it started out as a blog. It was nice to read a modern and young experience, though there was more detail about life at theological college than the discernment process.



*Previous books I've read as part of exploring my vocation
The Little Book of Prayers
Religion for Atheists
Hearing the Call: Stories of Young Vocation
What Anglicans Believe
Jesus and Peter: Growing in Friendship with God

Video: Thoughts after Westminster Abbey

Reaction video - how did the service at Westminster Abbey make me think about my calling?

An interest in chaplaincy

Over the last couple of years, as my calling has come in stages to the forefront of my mind, the specifics of what that will mean in my life have gained sharper focus. It's all very well that I 'feel a calling to ordained ministry', but what does that look like?

My rector asked me this in our last meeting. Something like "If you could stop working, give up stage management and 'concentrate on this' [she was quoting me complaining about having to go through the discernment process and still keep working in a career I was planning on leaving] what would that be? What would you be doing?"

Initially, I wanted to respond, 'well that's why I'm here, sitting in your office, I don't know what to do with this nagging in the back of my head, help me woman, YOU tell ME!' But I quickly  realised the point of her question was that I do need to start working on the specifics, I need to actually think about this process as real life.

We can't all have a spinning arrow like Pocahontas

It's very easy to imagine a whole new life and pretend to set goals, but actually be creating a fantasy, writing the story you want rather than living the story you have. That way lies failure.

The discernment process is not some fairy tale spell to gain insight and magically get pointed in the right direction. I'm looking at a process that will be measured in months and years. So I need to get over the delusion that it's going to be handed to me on a plate and actually get my hands dirty.

What do I see when I think about myself as an ordained priest? The first thought is the most obvious - that of myself in a chasuble at the front of a church behind a lectern. Sure, the thought of preaching to a familiar congregation and performing the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist (Holy Communion) are nice, but with the aid of second thoughts, the responsibilities of a parish priest don't look like they suit me all that well.

Last year at Greenbelt, I was browsing the books tent and a small book called 'Being A Chaplain' popped out at me. I bought it, and read about chaplaincy in hospitals, universities, airports, football clubs, the military, and prisons, and the idea of chaplaincy really appeals.

I'm good at focus, rather than the big picture thinking of a whole parish; I'm good at creating both fleeting relationships with strangers and supportive relationships long term; I've been told I'm a good listener, I enjoying listening to people; one of the reasons I want to be a priest is to help people - I love in stage management being a resource that crew and cast can come to for anything, and being good at providing or facilitating what they need - a stage manager's agenda is not their own; it really feeds into what I was saying about stories in this post; and as a liberal inclusivist, it would be a joy to minister to people of all faiths and none.

I can't imagine lay chaplaincy. What do I see what I think about myself as a chaplain? A dog collar. I think chaplaincy will be part of my life in ordained ministry, but not the entirety,

Video: Affirmation

Video: Can I provide wisdom?

Can I provide wisdom? A response to this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyLYDcdGRlA

What does a lay person want out of a priest?

So this post comes as part of my response to the Criteria, details here. As I said in that blog post, I want a list of what I think makes a good priest whilst I still write from the perspective of a lay person, so that I won't forget, or dismiss it as I go further down the path looking at it from the Church's point of view.

These are the characteristics I think are expected in a priest. But let's be clear that this does not mean I assume they will always be met. Laity should never hold priests up against a scale of perfection, as they are flawed human beings as well.

Decency
The first attribute that comes to mind is I want to know a priest is a good person. Not a perfect person but it should be a defining characteristic that they are a positive force in the world. I want to be be able to be confident that a priest has good intentions, never dominated by anything selfish or destructive.

Being wise doesn't need an armchair
but is does help the image!

Wisdom
This one's an odd one, but I have to admit that there is an expectation that a priest is a resource for
perspective, comfort and guidance. It is a lot to ask, but it comes with the position of authority within a spiritual context. I don't mean I think they should have all the answers. But there is an assumed level of knowledge of the wisdom of generations before us - ie. Church tradition and philosophy - that should influence their reactions and contributions.

Effort and reliability
Now, I don't want this to be a paragraph about self-sacrifice, but I think a priest needs to put the effort in. They have to try. Laity should be able to rely on the clergy to put effort in where others might give into the temptation not to, and sometimes that will include going the extra mile. It's not the same as other jobs where you can get away with 'doing the minimum'; it doesn't work like that. Clergy are human beings, they have a right to down time, and a personal life, but that has to come with an understanding that you can't be off the clock - you're never again be not ordained.

Being there
Again a bit odd, but when I say I think part of being priest is just being there, I mean exactly that. I suppose it ties in with the previous paragraph. There's an element of presence, a go-to place that is accessible. It's like when I set up my uni's first LGBT+ society - we didn't actually do much the two years I was running it, but constant feedback was an appreciation that it was there at all.

Be approachable, but maybe not as
creepy as Buddy Christ here.

Approach-ability
I started going to church on a regular basis whilst travelling, and a classic part of visiting a new church on a Sunday morning is being able to go up to the clergy afterwards and have a little chat. It's hard to go up to new people and introduce yourself, to try and engage with a community, but there should be a higher level of comfort going up to a priest, a confidence that they will happy to talk to you, interested in why you're there, and maybe even a gateway into being introduced to regulars, lay congregation members who are less intimidating once the priest has broken through that barrier for you.
And just branching out, it's the same for clergy who aren't parish priests. Chaplains, missionaries, 'pioneer ministers', deacons, cathedral staff, bishops even, teachers, diocese staff - there is a responsibility that goes with being ordained, in whatever capacity you operate in, to be open to engaging with those who approach. Basically, you have a lot less leeway before you are being rude or flaky.

Patience and tolerance
Priests minster to people, and people come in all sorts of varieties, and many are not all that great. Humanity can be dull, irritating, rude, opinionated, loud, obnoxious, snooty, the list goes on and on. The key is not having to somehow achieve a truly open heart and manage never to be irritated or bored etc; priests are people and sometimes people rub each other the wrong way. No, having more genuine tolerance is helpful to be fair, but patience is basically exercising tolerance, even if it's not there. Priest can't act intolerant, whether or not they are finding it difficult to tolerate somebody. Embodying the calling of expressing Christ's good news means having the patience to tolerate the intolerable. And to quote my rector, this doesn't mean rolling over and being a doormat. Some situations need a firm response - the point I'm trying to articulate is that response should never be a harsh/obvious rejection. Am I making sense?

Non-judgement
Once more this links in, especially with tolerance. As laity, I would really like to be able to tell my priest anything and not be judged for it. Yes, sometimes I am looking for their opinion, but I want to have to ask for a decision on a point of morality, rather than having a moral judgement passed on what I've told them automatically. And I certainly expect a priest to not let any judgements they have about me/my behaviour influence how they treat me.

Okay, that's a nice Jewish seven, so I'll leave it at those key elements.

Summary of the Criteria: My response summed up

I've just spent the afternoon and evening going over my homework, going over the Summary of the Criteria for Selection for Ordained Ministry in the Church of England, including filming some videos.

As it nears late into the night, and I have read through the 9 paragraphs over and over, some of my anxiety has been calmed. Yes, I am worried by some criteria, and this is only the summary, so there will be lots more detail to go through in the full document, but I feel a lot more comfortable about the idea of being scrutinised through this lens. Maybe it is because of the old adage "familiarity breeds disdain", but I suspect not.

I feel confident that there are lot of criteria that I already meet to various degrees, and the ones of which I might fall short have potential, and a potential that can be realistically met in most circumstances. I am ready for that challenge, and eager to accomplish those skills and needs of ordained ministry that I will need to start the life long journey of becoming a better and better priest.

I have really enjoyed looking at "what it means to be a deacon or a priest". I have written a separate blog post here about what I currently think makes a good priest, and what I want out of a priest from a lay person's perspective, before I become too involved in the discernment process to be able to remember. The hope is that as I gain insight into what the Church thinks makes a good priest, I will have that list to hold onto, so as not to lose sight of what the person I am now wanted of the person I will be, when I am her, if that makes any sense.

In order of most confident to least confident, the sections are in this order for me at the moment:
(in brackets in the order in which they appear in the criteria)

1. Vocation (1)
2. Quality of Mind (9)
3. Personality and Character (4)
4. Faith (7)
5. Ministry within the CofE (2)
6. Spirituality (3)
7. Relationships (5)
8. Leadership and Collaboration (6)
9. Mission and Evangelism (8)

I am most confident about Vocation, because I have examined my own sense of vocation thoroughly, and am in an ongoing conversation about it with significant people in my life. I use words like "inevitable" and "inescapable" about my vocation, and it fills me with joy, wonder, and impatience.

Quality of Mind, and Personality and Character are the parts I have most thought about before starting this discernment process, and I am happy to conclude that my opinion is that I am capable, and suited in most areas, with potential for improvement where I might not be as skilled.

Faith is probably the section I feel most articulate about when I talk off the cuff. It's the pillars that sit on the bedrock of trust in God holding up the foundations of my soul on which the building of my heart sits in the infusing cloud of my brain (if I could draw, I would SO sketch that metaphor).

Ministry within the CofE sits in the middle of the list, because I love my Church, and the thought of being on the inside, being part of the machine, the story of that institution, is desirable, but the responsibility and pressure is unnerving.

It's a serious business, being a priest

Spirituality is less important to me, at the moment, than Faith, but I think because my journey so far has concentrated on faith, first personal then community. Building my spirituality is part of this step, the next step, as I shape my life to be more prayerful in anticipation of answering my calling.

Relationships is not a major concern, but not a confident section. I feel halfway through my process of learning to establish, develop, and maintain relationships of all types, and of course Issues in Human Sexuality needs to be looked at.

Leadership and Collaboration, I am only confident in my potential of leadership qualities. They need work, time and effort to craft and improve. Collaboration is further along than leadership.

Mission and Evangelism I almost want to shy away from. I only feel the tiniest push towards this part of ministry, much rather preferring the subtle elements of showing by example, and providing witness only with provocation or inquiry, rather than proactively.

Videos: Selection Criteria

Shorter video going through Section A of the Summary of the Criteria for Selection for Ordained Ministry in the Church of England

Longer video going through Sections B through I

Reasons I think I'd make a good priest/want to be priest

(See also my post on Why I don't think I'm called to be a Lay Reader.)

This is a hard exercise. Not because I haven't thought about and have a few ideas of why I think I would suit being a priest, and I certainly know why I want to be a priest; no, I find it difficult to stop myself feeling like I'm bragging, or being attention seeking. I've said it before on this blog, it feels like saying "look at me, I'm special", and no reasoning with myself has been enough to convince me that it isn't that.

Rationally, I understand it is important for me to be able to articulate evidence for my position, defend that position. I'm not going to be attacked per se, but I will be challenged, rightly so, questioned heavily to explore my sense of calling and what it will mean for my future, in a tangible way for other people (ie the Church) so they can be sure of implementing changes in my life.

So that's what I'm going try to do. Here goes.

Why do I want to be a priest?

To quote my spiritual journal (SJ): "It seems inescapable, inevitable and wholly desirable."

I want to be able to live my life as a disciple of Christ, because I think following the good news is the way the majority of people could live their lives and move closer to the coming of the Kingdom, establishing a closer relationship with God and therefore improving life for all.

I have had a niggling suspicion that I might be ordained since my late teens, and that hasn't scared me. It's felt comforting, I've been looking forward to it. I realised at about the same time that my faith has progressed in clear steps, thoroughly, from the ground up. I've always been given an opportunity, pointed towards the next step, at exactly the moment that I have gone through and become comfortable with the last. That upward gradient naturally carries on to ordination in the future, in my judgement of the evidence.

I can't imagine life ending up any other way. I can't see myself managing to fully live my calling to be a disciple of Christ any other way. Knowing that I could put my faith in the centre of my life in an all encompassing way? That's what I want. I won't manage to live that way, the way I want, if I carry on with just a secular job. How can I best Love God, Love Neighbour? (SJ)"Doing what I think is good, standing against wrong that I encounter, preventing wrong happening. Show love, mercy and forgiveness to all those I encounter in my life." And I have no ambition in stage management, I don't want to make a career out of it. Being a priest is the right method for me to do God's work, and it's becoming obvious that it is the best choice for me.

The church services that I connect with most are the ones when I'm at the front. I'm the cantor, or I'm a server. I'm an active role in the worship, and able to be part of the team that provides the service for others to use as worship.

Why do I want to be a priest? Stories. They are the essence of life, at least in my understanding of it. I love telling them, reading them, watching them, living my own story, being part of other people's, listening to others tell their own or another's, facilitating the telling of them. My holy scripture is in a narrative form - that's the story I want to share and blend into my own. "In church we don't just tell the story [of the Passion], we live it together day by day by eating and drinking together in this Eucharist" (I'm quoting this sermon by my rector).

What am I passionate about? Doing the right thing. Being a good person and showing others they should too for many reasons, but ultimately in response to the universe and the love of God that permeates every place and moment in spacetime. That's what the story tells me.

And to quote my spiritual journal again: "I want to serve, devote my life to God's will and God's people, spreading the story, and bettering the world in the aspiration for the kingdom of God."

Why do I think I'd be a good priest?

When I first got an inkling of a call, I would not have made a good priest. I was proud, blunt, inconsiderate, only just reconnecting with others after years of loneliness, quick to take offence and slow to forgive.

But the core parts of me were appropriate; there was groundwork for a holy life. I've always been passionate, and focused. I have a strong confidence that I think comes from a bedrock of trust in God, and a positive outlook on life. When I commit, I'm dedicated, and even back then I would go the extra mile for projects or for other people. I've always felt an intense connection with love, though at the time, hormones influenced where I focused my energies! Eros was my idol for a while, I will admit that; I was not immune to the angst of the teen years.

But in the years since, I have grown into a stronger sense of agape. As I've written before, I committed to self-improvement when I realised I was not coming across in a particularly universally liked way, so I learnt patience, forgiveness, greater consideration, grew a thicker skin and calmed down my rather aggressive style. I refuse to hold grudges or stop giving people chances. I'm now a good listener for example, I have been told a number of times since; I genuinely enjoy hearing people talk and gaging how to respond to them. Doing stage management has been a training ground for ministry, for sure. There is change, pressure and stress, with a need for balance and flexibility (I'm paraphrasing the Summary of Criteria) in all that stage management do, and I have been developing the skills for just that. Now I'm the one on the team who takes joy from what I can, big or small, and shares that with others.

I think a gift I can bring is helping others see the sacred in the secular. And it might sound illogical if I can't claim to manage to do so in my own life, but helping others is an overall theme I want in my life, and however odd it seems, that feels like part of that theme. You'll see in my profile that "I feel like a good word to sum up who I am and what I do is 'Facilitator'" and I stand by that as supporting my opinion that I would make a good priest.

If I look at the 'official gifts', I'd say my top 3 are mercy, faith and hospitality, with also discipleship and possibly a little wisdom. I feel able to say I have integrity, and an innate honesty. My natural abilities are confidence, love, generosity, and focus. I'm a very good confidant. 

It baffles me that people can act maliciously for their own purposes - the idea of manipulating a situation for my own gain as the primary motivation never occurs to me. Lying is basically out of the question, and breaking the rules has to come from a very strong understanding of how fundamentally wrong the rules are. 

Why do I think I'd be a good priest? Because I'm a good stage manager. Because I want to, including being open to learn, change and improve. I suppose because I'm meant to - I trust God has given me the gifts to answer this call faithfully, that doing so to best of my abilities will be enough. Because I can love, and lead, and comfort, and help. Because I love the church. Because I want to put my relationship with God first. Because I want to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth. Because I think it is a job and a life that I would enjoy, love doing and being, and be good at.

What I've managed in the last couple of months

I am almost caught up on my journey so far (see previous blog posts: history of my faith part one and two, history of my calling, and my first steps exploring it).

Between the two meetings with my rector, what I did most was think. Getting the big kick in response to contemplating the Camino revved the engines, but talking to someone 'on the inside', someone I trusted knew what they were doing and would help me do something about it, put the process into gear. I spent the month or so between meetings getting used to the idea that my calling was going to be addressed starting now, age 23, rather than in the future like I had always thought. The initial excitement didn't die down but it became more contained and focused, and I didn't realise it at the time, but I sought out tools and strategies to get started, even though I didn't really know consciously 'how to get started'.

When I was deciding to be a stage manager, the one thing everyone said was a stage manager is a 'people person'. I was not a people person. I knew that but it didn't put me off. I was determined that I was suited to everything else about stage management, why give up without trying first? And you know what, in the 8 years since then, I have put a lot of energy into becoming better at gauging my relationships with people, things like cutting down on how much I explicitly complain, and putting others' needs first, and doing so without compromising on who I am. I'm still not a natural people person, but I have trained my thinking into better patterns to become more like a people person. Which I am really glad about.

One of the many things people often say about priests is it is a 'life of prayer'. I have historically been terrible at prayer. It has previously been very low down on my list. But again, I am not going to let that put me off. I'll write another post about why I think I'm suited to being ordained (edit: I did, it's here), but basically I think it's generally a good idea; so if I can change the way I relate to people, surely with the same effort and perseverance I can re-orientate my habits and thinking to be more prayerful. Just the mere fact that I want to is an important part of that.

I have owned a hard copy of 'Daily Prayer' the official C of E book for maybe a year, maybe two. I've off and on managed to do morning prayer here and there, maybe compline, but never with any consistency. So in the last month I have got three things.

One: the C of E Daily Prayer app. YES, the good ol' Church of England actually has apps, being all hip and 21st century. You can get morning, evening and night prayer, with all the right readings and collects there on the one screen rather than sitting with two or three books, flipping between bookmarks. My schedule keeps changing due to my job, but when I was getting up and going to work for 9.30am in rehearsals, I was able to read morning prayer everyday, silently on the train. And if I get to bed and realise I haven't done any structured prayer that day, I can reach for my phone and quickly whisper night prayer.

Two: another app! The C of E Reflections for Daily Prayer app. This one's great, because even if you don't do morning prayer, it'll give the reading and a few short paragraphs of reflection, from a variety of wise contributors. I read it every day, which also has the bonus of meaning that I get an extract of scripture every day.

So small!

Three: an unofficial book of prayers, The Little Book of Prayers. I picked this up when browsing in Waterstones. It's a collection of a variety of prayers from all walks of life and religions and philosophies. I love it for two reasons; one, it's tiny, so it fits in my handbag easily, and two, it has an index for when you want to pray about or for something specific, like gratitude, strength, guidance, grief.

So this means that if I don't manage to do official prayer - like at the moment I work 5.30pm-10pm on performances, so the morning is pretty much gone when I get up, and evening prayer is focused on a quiet end to the day rather than what I'm doing which is starting work - I can pull this little dude out of my handbag and read a short prayer a few times.

I've also started reading around. Every resource for discernment and ministry mentions reading books, and to be honest, it has been daunting. I did a practical degree course without any assigned reading, or textbooks, or any need to reference literature in essays or whatever. And when I see the lists and lists of recommended reading, I am at a loss as to where to start.

I am an unashamed Disney fan...

But I have managed to have a stab at it. Oddly, one of the books I first read in this process was Religion for Atheists, which was great to get a very different perspective on religion. Then I read, and mean to read again, Hearing the Call: Stories of Young Vocation, which was a very reassuring experience, hearing from someone who has dealt with young people in my situation and finding that I'm saying very similar things to them. I'm currently reading What Anglicans Believe, ie. what am I supposed to be signing up for (I also have a hard copy somewhere of a book, I can't remember the name, that sets out how the Church of England operates practically, which I should look over again). And I'm lucky that it's near the end of the year, so I've got myself one of those 'read the bible in a year' books, to start on January 1st. We'll see how that goes. Plus, I've always loved gospel stories about Peter, so the next book I'll read is a recommendation off my rector, Jesus and Peter: Growing in Friendship with God.

It was only in my second meeting with the rector when I said I had done all this that I realised I was actually doing something. I had been under the impression that I wasn't doing anything, that things had been on pause since my last meeting, and I was just waiting for the next to be told what to do. But my rector keeps talking about "keeping up the momentum" and that doesn't mean speed. It means things are progressing, slowly, so that I have time to really understand what's happening.

I've been worried that I haven't been doing enough, that my work and social lives aren't giving me enough time to dedicate to exploring my calling. But the momentum is there. This sense of moving towards a greater part of my life is with me all the time. And it doesn't come from me. All I can do is respond, and that's not always a proactive and obvious thing. Not at this stage. Not yet.

Anyway, so I'll mention three things from the second meeting with the rector.

Who am I? I mentioned

More Disney, yes!

this in an earlier post, but essentially she started teasing out answers to that question, because I am going to go up to the Church and say "God is calling me, here I am" and the response from the Church is going to come down to "So who are you then?" And part of the discernment process is self-awareness, and learning to articulate an answer to that question that is comprehensible, and comprehensive. The church need to get to know you, and I realised I'm not very good at that. Not many people are without practice. The person sitting behind my eyes feels like it has a good sense of who I am, I feel like I know myself. But try and say it out loud, and it's really difficult! To put it into words that someone who is not inside your head can understand and get a true impression of who you are? That's a surprisingly tough challenge.

Another thing was an unexpected insight into myself. I have cried in that kind and patient woman's office the majority of times I have been there, and that day was no exception. In just the same way I was worried in the past when people said I wasn't a people person, I am terrified that someone is going to turn around and tell me "this is a bad idea. You're not suited to be a priest. You're wrong if you think you should be. You'd be terrible at it. I don't want people like you as priests." No one has come even close to saying anything like that. Everyone has been quite supportive. I suppose the fear hasn't gone away because no one has yet to hear me say "I feel a calling to ministry, possibly to be ordained" and shouted "oh yeah! I can see that. I think that's a great idea. You'd suit that."

I don't want my rector to do that. I'd be surprised and find it unhelpful if she was definitive and gave me black and white answers. It's like a therapist, their job is to help you understand what's going on in your head and in your life and then work out for yourself with coaxing and suggestions what to do about it. But if someone did, if someone genuinely said "Go for it", that would be... just awesome.

The third thing was very exciting, because it's the first time there's been talk of doing something official, and even though I am working to get over my impatience, it is gratifying to take a small step that is explicit. I took the decision back in September to take December off. All people in theatre do a Christmas show, but it takes up your life more than a usual show, and would mean I just wouldn't get to church, none of the Advent services, carol service, midnight mass, nothing. So I didn't want to do one, I chose church instead. I told my rector, and she brightened up as I asked if I could be useful to the church with all this free time, to help out, and in light of our conversations, get a bit more experience of church life beyond the Sunday services. She was all in favour, and said it could be a sort of 'mini-placement', and by gum, that made me want to fist pump.

A placement is a classic part of the discernment process. There is what appears to be a lot of resources out there for people in my position, but they're actually all very vague. However, 'placement' is one of the few specifics that are mentioned, so YIPPEE!

Finally (sorry for waffling a rather long post) a few days after this conversation, I saw my best friend and it was one of the things we talked about. When I told her about the whole more prayerful thing, she left the room and came back with a rosary. Bit Catholic, I thought, I'm not saying any Hail Marys thank you! But she explained it was an Anglican rosary, shorter and with different prayers (see pic).
She's lent it to me, and it's a great addition to my choice of prayer each day. I suspect I might be getting one for Christmas...

So there we are. That's where I am now. I'm seeing the rector again in a few weeks, after I've finished the show I'm working on at the moment, going into my church-centred December. My homework was to think about how the Criteria for Selection make me feel, so I'm working on that. (edit: I spoke about it in these videos and wrote about it here.)

God bless.