Video: Eighth visit to the rector

One of the things that I didn't mention in the video was at one point in our walk, I said something about God being a river that flows in my life, which was an idea I hadn't hit before, so I wanted to explore it a little

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Excuse me a moment as I indulge in my love of Disney classics. There are two lines about rivers I want to reference from the film Pocahontas

Chief Powhatan sings to his daughter "As the river cuts his path, though the river's proud and strong, He will choose the smoothest course - that's why rivers live so long. They're steady, as the steady beating drum."

Proud and strong

Pocahontas, after he has left, says "He wants me to be steady like the river. But it's not steady at all!" then she sings "What I love most about rivers is you can't step in the river twice; the waters always changing, always flowing."

You can't step into the same river twice

And as much as it's one of Disney's heavy-handed metaphors, both lines are useful to me in describing a little of God's role in my life. God operates as both types of river, the strong, steady one that knows the best course, and the water that is never the same, bringing renewal and surprises just around the river bend.

Rapids of being caught up in divine intervention

The metaphor can go further. God as water is a common Christian theme - life giving, cleansing, pure, necessary, naturally occurring trinity (solid, liquid, gas), precious, etc. As a river specifically, there are lots of tributaries within my soul that run into and join God at the centre; sometimes God is a still pool within me and I can float on the surface, reveling in being surrounded and held up by God; sometimes God's a ferocious rapid that whips me off my feet and carries me off on a bumpy ride where I can only catch glimpses of the direction/destination when I manage to break the surface for air before being sucked under again.

Do you still wait for me, dream giver,
 just around the river bend/?

What I was thinking of as I strolled through the park with the rector and her dog was that God is a continual current running under me as I sit in the boat of my life. God catches my eye occasionally with a dazzling sparkle, or sends me down the unexpected fork, or just suddenly becomes a waterfall. But even though I sometimes lose sight of the river, and am deluded that the boat is all there is to reality, it doesn't matter because God is still holding me up, guiding me down if not the smoothest course, then at least the one of God's choosing, steady in the sense that God is always there, immovable and relentless.

More and more unexpected waterfalls

I think my problem is sometimes I take God for granted. The fact that I can trust in ending up on the
right course doesn't mean I don't have a responsibility to maintain and improve that boat in response to the river's design. It's a smoother ride when God nudges me towards a different fork if I change my sails to line up with that, and even paddle in support of the new direction. I've learnt a lot of that submission in the last year as I've become more aware of the need to 'listen' to the river on my life that is God, the need to expand my knowledge so, like a theological Bear Grylls, I can read the workings of God around me, in me, and through me, and respond to work in tandem with that river, not against it.

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.

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.