Please note: Some of these posts were written on my retreat, and because of Covid, it was a restricted experience compared to 'normal'. This blog is committed to recording how I felt in the moment throughout my journey of vocation, so please take these thoughts in that spirit, especially coming from an external processor (!) rather than being a definitive picture of my eventual opinion of the whole experience.
Also, pictures are near the end!
Friday 18th June 2021 11am - 1pm
The retreat itself is a pretty restricted affair, due to various factors. On Wednesday, we gathered at the church in the evening for the Bishop's charge, and a rehearsal of the service. We left our robes there, and returned home (though one of the other curates and I went to a local pub for pizza first).
Yesterday I was at home, logging onto Zoom a few times for prayers and addresses from the retreat leader. Around these online pockets, the plumbers were in looking at a leaky pipe, I did my laundry, did the hoovering, and cleaned the bathroom, made meals and drinks, had a lovely nap, went into church to have a practice of my first mass, read the paper, scrolled Twitter, and spent the evening as I usually would, watching streaming platforms on the TV.
I think it was a very good way to spend the day. Others have different needs and capabilities in these weird times of 'remote' retreats, and all power to them. I really enjoyed doing the offices, even on Zoom, especially in the morning as we don't pray corporate morning prayer at my curacy church; and the addresses have been good too, based on the Five Little Scrolls.
Now we have arrived at the retreat house, Friday morning. We started with a Eucharist, then our third address, and now we're just milling around the lounges until our rooms are ready at 4pm. I made the point at my deaconing retreat (which was Wed-Sat) how it took me two days to actually settle in, "properly stop and feel myself relax" because it is difficult to wind down. I do not anticipate getting to any state of reflection before we go to the church tomorrow afternoon. I would normally go on retreat somewhere in the country, and spend a lot of time on my own, both in private in my room, and on long walks. The latter is of no use to me in East London - this retreat house is fine and lovely but the location just doesn't suit me for a retreat - and the former is rather curtailed by the wait. I totally understand that checking into these places necessitates these waits, but we're leaving at 4pm tomorrow, so I just don't think I am going to get the time and space I need for this retreat to have significant impact.
At least I am less nervous/stressed than I was about the deaconing. There's no intimidating grandeur like there was at the cathedral, with the diocesan bishop, and I'll have a few more people in the congregation (last time it was 4, tomorrow it will be 15. Friends! Parishioners! BOTH my parents!!). Everyone is not clenched and terrified about Covid practice and being caught getting it wrong; we all know the drill now. I feel confident and excited about taking on these new orders, taking on the responsibility of presiding at the eucharist, this calling set apart to minister in word and sacrament, and "tell the story of God's love".
Regulars on this blog will know my use of the analogy of God's workshop in my vocation journey. Previously I was up on my axles, then I was pootling round the yard getting used to the changes. Now I think is the time I will leave the yard, and head out onto the road. I am called to be a priest, and tomorrow I will be ordained a priest. Being deaconed was a major boundary crossing, adding holy orders on top of being part of the laity, so in one way, being priested is a lesser boundary. But it is the culmination moment, the climax of this first chapter of following my vocation, they are the orders that ultimately determine who I am supposed to be.
Tomorrow will be what it will be, another restricted affair, after a disappointing retreat, but it's really not the end of the world. I'll get over it. I'm going to be a priest! That's the thing that means anything. I can go back to my parish, and bless them, declare that they are forgiven, and step into the role of our great high priest to provide that liminal space that God may meet God's people, and the people may meet God, at Jesus' table. Ritual matters, and ordination services as they usually are have a purpose; I look forward to the future when they can return in full glory. But I will not be less of a priest without it. My family, friends and people of the parish will not be less part of our journey together as a community of many callings of which this is one milestone.
Saturday 11am-12noon
After lunch yesterday, I ended up chatting to some of the other deacons and it was really great, having spent months not being able to get to know them at post-ordination training because it was on Zoom. We got into our rooms about half three, and I unpacked, then watched an episode of something before Evening Prayer. It was good to finally have some privacy and truly be able to relax. I may be an extrovert, but being on retreat is one time I will happily claim the need for solitude and quiet. We prayed, then had a lovely dinner, followed by drinks and nibbles together. It was really nice just to socialise with our peers. This extrovert got both things she needed! After compline, I retreated (lol) again and had some quiet time before going to sleep.
This morning we had breakfast, morning prayer and our last address, I read a bit of the paper, and now we are milling around again having had to leave the rooms at 11. Again I recognise the necessity of this whilst expressing my frustration that the situation does necessitate it. I'm now in the lounge again, surrounded by some day visitors having tea. We will have a final act of worship, lunch, then some are leaving at 2 for the first service, we're leaving at 4. Who knows what we'll do while we wait, I have already suggested the pub! I am currently in my jeans as we've been told we can ask to have a room briefly to get changed in later.
Today I will be ordained a priest. I was very glad that the retreat leader gave us permission in her address that today is not a day for profound thoughts. The pressure for this retreat to be so solemn and reflective and profound has been noticeable, though who knows if I'm imagining it. You can read the subtext in what I have written that I am trying to justify that it has not felt that profound or explicitly 'spiritual' so far for me. It hasn't been wasted time for all that though. It has been a chance to put aside all other pulls on my resources and time, an opportunity to be together with those going through the same journey, and a pause to ready myself for the whirlwind this evening. God is good at taking advantage of such things. I trust that the Spirit is always working.
I have made the most of it in truthful acknowledgement of my capabilities and needs. I am also lucky that I don't have a spouse, kids or any other household to coordinate much with, other than telling my guests what they need to know, so I can concentrate on myself before I am made a priest in the Church of God for the rest of my life. I am also lucky that I have parishioners in my curacy church who want to come a celebrate this moment with me, so the next chapter of my priesthood over the next few years has connection to the people I will be serving first. I am supported, by those who love me, those I work with, and those I am church with, which is a joy because they all play a part in this moment of my life following Jesus, a life which means nothing without others. I am not being made a priest for me, I am being made a priest for all God's people to and with whom I will minister, over the next decades of my life.
There's an overlay of the micro and the macro today. Short-term, being priested now means going back to the parish and being able to preside, starting next Sunday. It means a change of rota, a change of focus in my training, additional ability to connect with people. But long-term, and ontologically, being priested now means starting a significant part of what my life means, of my purpose and place under God. It means going forward to many places and being able to preside there too, to be eventually trained to the point that I will follow calls to other places, and many people, and exercise all that priestly ministry encompasses.
I want to hold to both of these. It is the unenviable position of Christians to live in the abundance of both/and, for we follow the Christ who ruptured false binaries, such as divine and human, joy and suffering, micro and macro. It does not lessen the importance of either to hold to both, and in that complicated and difficult sweet spot, I feel closer to God, for I am closer to the Truth, the Way and the Life. My way and my life today is both celebrating with my friends and family that my years of priesthood are beginning, and also embracing my immediate future of being part of leading our little corner of the kingdom from my privileged position at a simple wooden table.
This retreat has given space for us to reflect on the the personal significance of being priested, and I am grateful. From tomorrow, it will get subsumed into the micro, and I will joyfully be part of that as well. Both/and. Giving up your life and receiving abundant life. Living for others and knowing Christ died for you. Church of God and parish life.
Sunday 7pm-8.30pm
I am a priest. Boom.
It is bizarre to look back and see how long it has been since I first articulated a call, a call to this, this which I am now. I am no charismatic, but I have had a few moments of mystical encounter, and lots of Providence. One thing these last few days has linked now with all the way back to my late teens, 16-18, when I first said something about priesthood (which was ridiculous because I had only ever gone to church annually for the Christingle). I drew something, which I saw in my head, in some notebook somewhere. It was a black and white compass. I was bowled over last September when I went to the Royal Foundation of St Katherine and found that same image in the marble of the floor of the chapel. This time round, I have been able to accept and process this, this wonderful connection point that gives such continuity to a journey that has not always taken an obvious path. And the quote around it from St Augustine of Hippo is outstanding - "We do not come to God by navigation, but by love".
Yesterday was amazing. My heart was pounding as we started the service, having been cloistered away from all our supporters as they arrived. The moment of kneeling with the bishop's hands on my head, and my training incumbent's hand on my shoulder, was one of unexpected peace, calm and deep joy. I found so many reasons to smile throughout the rest of the service.
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| Laying on of hands |
It was such a happy time afterwards to greet all my supporters - representatives from my parish, my friends from my sending church, clergy who have been part of my journey, my family, my godfather, my friend who has been with me since those odd times as teenagers, and my incredible partner who did a sterling job holding me steady in my over-excitement.
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| Training incumbent Steve, and members of St Johns' |
After much cautious hugging and greeting everyone who had come, I got changed went for dinner with family and friends at a local pub. It felt so normal, and I was overwhelmed that I got some fabulous presents, ranging from holy oil stocks and a wooden paten and chalice, to a Jesus Shaves mug and a ring with a saga behind it. We ate, we drank, we were merry.
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| Me and my friend Simon, a fellow cider drinker |
This morning I attended the two services at my curacy church, laying the altar and reading the gospel. I wore my stole in its new arrangement - as a deacon, I wore it across my body over the left shoulder and tied at my right hip, for the diaconate is a serving ministry, and this is reminiscent of the towel Jesus tied around himself to wash the disciples feet;
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| Deacon |
I am still a deacon, but now I have had the orders of a priest added, and so I wear the stole around my neck and hanging down on either side of my front, for a priest takes the role of Christ at the table, and so takes on his yoke, which we kiss when we put it on because the burden is light.
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| Priest! |
Sitting there in St John's sanctuary with this small change to indicate what had changed in me, I felt like I had landed. That's the best way I can describe it. This is where I am, and who I have become, and it is right and good. It's an incredible feeling, like realising you're in love with someone and they are in love with you, and everything has aligned just right; like walking into somewhere you feel is home and relaxing in your bones with tension you didn't realise you had; like finishing the last of a long series of books you've been reading for years.
The journey continues. This is not the end, but another beginning (yay for cliches). And I am well up for it!
