Being priested

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. 

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. 

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.

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; 

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.

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!

First term as an ordinand

My goodness look, she’s put up a text post, huzzah! I know, I know, I’ve been a bit lazy and just put up videos for a while.

But in the wake of my first term as an ordinand, I don’t think I can reflect coherently on how I am and how things are in a video. It’s been a packed 11 weeks, busier than I anticipated. I’ve needed to be easy on myself, and not get guilty about the things that I’ve felt I haven’t done well.

I didn’t know what to expect going in. I didn’t know how to organise myself with an academic degree – ‘doing some reading’, lecture notes, the library, ‘pre-reading’. Foreign territory, all of it. And since my last post about the retreat, we’ve had several deadlines for essays, which has been the real meat of the term, academically speaking. I was totally unprepared for that, and I’ve learnt a lot of lessons which will hopefully mean next term will be better.

Amongst that I’ve been struggling the sustain myself spiritually and socially, plus not been able to do exercise, and I even had to give up cooking in the last few weeks, and only eat in the dining hall. I ended up in a bit of a heap by the end. But I feel overall positive about the whole thing, which seems odd, but like I said, I’m being easy on myself. My first term of nine may not have been smooth but there were no disasters, nothing actually ‘went wrong’, and I’m still happy to be where I am.

I’m making friends, getting good marks back from the essays, getting on with my housemates, connecting with various clergy in the area. I’ve been on placement with a great chaplain and I’ve even given a sermon! I had visitors from the south a couple of weekends, there was a fantastic Christmas party to finish term and say goodbye to the deputy warden – trying to summarise the whole term is pretty tricky, but there are tons of positives.

But life has been very full. I have felt a little dragged along with it, getting on with things when I didn’t understand them 100%, didn’t have time to get to grips with them as fully as I would have liked, which for me is a stressful place to be in. I’ve not really acknowledged my underlying stress, and I should. I’m not ‘stressed out’ but I just have not felt grounded.

My tutor pointed out that one factor is not really having a lot of contact with my home ground kind of church – I’m spending most of my time at either much lower, at college, or higher, at my placement chapel; and I think she’s right that it’s had an impact. I was at St James’ on Sunday for the morning service and Nine Lessons and Carols, and there was a relief to be with people ‘like me’. Now I realise that this is partly an evolutionary hang up that we really must get over, but that doesn’t stop me feeling that way.

At least I have actually enjoyed building relationships with evangelicals and conservatives at college, even if it’s been an effort. And it’s not been as bad as it could have been, because said evangelicals have been very open; the way I put it is they may think I’m going to hell, but if they do they don’t seem to hold it against me.

Like I said, hopefully I’ll have more of a handle on my academic work next term, which means I can schedule in down time, exercise, socialising, and other stress release things. Plus some of this term’s stress sources should be a lot less stressful because I’m now more familiar with everything new, and I'll start seeing a spiritual director.

So, first term as an ordinand. Overall positive, lessons learned, hopeful in moving forward. God is with me.

PS How AWESOME that the new Bishop of London, my sponsoring bishop, is a woman!!

PPS watch out for my next adventure - I'm flying to Switzerland next week!

Video: sacrifices for my calling

Towards Ordained Ministry: Session Six

This post details my experience of Session Six of the Towards Ordained Ministry course. See my previous posts about session one, two, four and five to find out what the TOM course is.

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Mission - Will you lead Christ’s people in proclaiming his glorious gospel, so that the good news of salvation may be heard in every place?

It was our final session, and although this was a great course, I was looking forward to having my Monday nights back! The odd thing about this last session was it was run by none other than Bishop Pete Broadbent! So having met the man for an all important interview the previous Wednesday, there he is again at the front of the lecture room. A bizarre amount of times to see a bishop in the space of a week, especially in the wake of my rector Lucy also doing a session! I half expected my DDO to walk through the door, to complete the set of priests involved in my discernment.

Pete was talking about mission. He said it was appropriate for a bishop, as "leading the church in mission" is one of the things for which we have bishops.

He started by describing the sort of context that we're working in for mission, which is one of non-traditional sacredness, "believing without belonging"; and also of course "more pluralist" within a diversity of faiths, especially in London. Our inheritance as future priests in the church is a trajectory of secular pluralism. At the local level, the common good can benefit from contributions from all faiths, but how it will go in the UK as a whole, what the future of the pluralism will look like, we can't know.

The rest of the session was based on Capital Vision 2020, which is the London Diocese's mission statement/strategy/idea/movement/premise...thing which is trying to innovate, create and support mission in the diocese but without reinventing the wheel so to speak.

A lot of my notes you can get from just browsing through the material available online about CV2020 itself, so here are few choice thoughts from +Pete as he went through.

• He quipped that church planting was "not just HTB clones!"
• He posed the question "are we a post-Christian society?" 
• 'Growth' is not just numbers but the growth of individuals' discipleship, and community impact
• The parochial system is odd but it still works; different in London of course
• 'Church' = "baptism, Bible, Eucharist, prayer, fellowship" but community might not be called to be 'church'
• London isn't very good at ecumenism
• CofE isn't very good at lay ministries such as evangelism, healing and teaching
• "The DNA of believing that God is going to make thing happen is crucial"
• He posed the question "is 'mega-church' good for us and is it working?"

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The previous sessions were:

- Authority - Do you accept the discipline of this Church and give due respect to those in authority?

- The Bible - Do you accept the holy Scriptures as revealing all things necessary for eternal salvation through faith in Jesus Christ?

- Doctrine - [I missed this one] Do you believe the doctrine of the Christian faith as the Church of England has received it, and in your ministry will you expound and teach it?

- Ministry - Will you be a faithful servant in the household of God, after the example of Christ, who came not to be served but to serve?

- Spirituality - Will you be diligent in prayer, in reading holy Scripture, and in all studies that will deepen your faith, and fit you to bear witness to the truth of the Gospel?

Video: Shadowing a priest in Scotland

That's a little snapshot of my week. I had such a good time. I've known the family for years, so it was good to be with friends and make new ones, and get away from work of course, but I also learnt a lot. I asked Alasdair if I could shadow him because staying with him and his family on previous occasions, I saw peripherally how his life as a priest was so different to the priests I know in central London.

The incident that set the idea in my mind was on his day off, answering the door in his pajamas and having to put on his wellies to go open up the church hall because whoever was supposed to hadn't! The vicar at the church where I work certainly wouldn't have cause to do that. It's good for me to see with my own eyes a situation I haven't really come across, namely a priest who is a radial point, the only full time person who ultimately looks after the church.

Also, his tradition is pretty Anglo-Catholic, and though my churches down in London are high enough to have robed servers and processions, Alasdair's Scottish Episcopal church is almost as far away from what I'm used to as the worship I experienced at the other end of the candle at Momentum or on Pentecost last summer, though not as high as my weekend with the Society of Catholic Priests. It's an important part of being in the Anglican Communion to understand the diversity of traditions held within it, and crucially it is in experiencing all these types of worship for myself that I am able to comprehend on a spiritual level that whilst my tastes and needs in liturgy and worship are different, God is in all of it.

So in doing thee's and thou's morning and evening prayer next door everyday, Mass both east facing and west facing (sometimes just the two of us), serving in cassock and cotta - I got my hands dirty in a way I didn't on the Catholic weekend away, plus Alasdair was very happy to answer my questions. Being with a priest who is not 'my' priest or just 'a' priest, but rather a friend, was a very useful space because (and this is also a mark of Alasdair's patience) I was able to push him to answer my questions further and defend anything I didn't understand or maybe didn't agree with, and also push back and challenge me.

That personal connection and staying with him and his family in the rectory was also able to give me insight into a priest as a whole, 'normal' person, that they talk about at vocation events, but is hard to actually understand in reality, to imagine a priest complexly, as the saying goes. At the same time, when off duty and in civvies, whilst not being the rector, even I as a friend and temporary member of his household could not shake an awareness of him being A Priest. That issue of perception is also often talked about at vocation events.

One thing I learnt about myself was I clarified why I don't like doing certain acts of kneeling in worship. I don't like kneeling to receive communion, and when I served on the Sunday in Scotland I had to genuflect, and boy, I did not like that either. It was as if, as my knee hit the marble, God winced. That kind of abasement is not part of our relationship. That's not to say I don't have a great reference for the Lord of the Universe, but you can have deep respect and show complete obedience without prostrating yourself. Sure, that's how some people show it, but I don't!

I'm also still processing something I 'learnt' in a way, but it's hard to articulate. It's something about being rooted in a place and how I don't feel called to that, at least not right away. I'm reminded of a sermon I heard about Psalm 84, and Hebrews 11 "They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one." I've written before how I don't feel like I have a 'home', but not in a bad way, because I look to making a home in God, and in a more tangible way, making a home where I find God in other people. I don't know, it just doesn't feel like that rootedness is part of my path ahead of me, til the distant future...

Anyway, I got away from my liberal urban bubble and also got to know some of the laity. They were all lovely and when I tagged along for home visits, everyone welcomed me in very gracefully. Sure I heard gossip and politics, but you get that everywhere there are people, and there was no maliciousness amongst the people I met. Talking to the theologian/CofS minister was also interesting to get away from Anglicanism and hear another story of vocation.

But against all that it was just a church serving God and creation. It is reassuring to feel the same undercurrent where ever two or three are gathered in Jesus' name, and to learn from people who are dedicated to God. As I said in the video, where ever I go, "it's still church".

Video: Going through the Criteria again

Video: Visiting different church services

Video: Responsibility in relationships

Going Further: Different models of mission and ministry

I've been digging through all the documents, forms and guidelines for candidates, DDOs, advisers, reference writers etc (available on the CofE website here). 

I would really recommend doing this - it gives a much better idea of what the church is looking for and what you're going to go through than pretty much any of the supposedly informative resources that are supposed to help you!

It's thrown up a few interesting points that I think I need to explore, either because I haven't yet explored them, or because I haven't explored them in as much depth as the documentation emphasises. I'm going to write a post on each point and this series of posts will be called "Going Further".

"Can the candidate reflect on different models of mission and ministry that they have experienced?"

I have been working on experiencing different models of ministry, but I'm not sure about different models of mission, and I haven't really reflected on the experiences I've had. Next month I'm hoping to put together some clips I've been recording about various churches I've visited, but two minutes to camera straight after a service isn't really deep reflection.

I will be the first admit that I haven't experienced a large range of ministry. When I first started going to church, it was in Australia whilst I was travelling, and I went to a different church every week as I made my way down the east coast, and continued doing so in New Zealand. But my memory of these services isn't extensive; they felt more in the vein of market research than worship at the time, and really I only remember being deeply impressed by the Antipodes' predilection for cake with their tea every week, not just biscuits!

Since then, I went to a few churches in London before St James' Piccadilly, but it is there that I have actually got to grips with communal worship and got involved, the only place I would class myself as a 'member of the regular congregation'. In the last few months, I've worshiped as a visitor in various places; I have been to lots of weekday services, worshiped at vocations events, done a whole weekend of Anglo-Catholic worship, and started familiarising myself with worship at my new church, St Martin-in-the-Fields. I have also chatted with several university chaplains, and helped one with some service feedback research.

Reflection
The Catholic weekend provided my first proper understanding of common parish ministry. It was very clear how geographical the focus was ie. their jurisdiction is the people and places within the parish bounds, and that was the biggest factor is the demographics of congregants, and the sort of services and programmes the churches offered. The physical parish sets the parameters of the ministry. There was no point in an incumbent being appointed and coming in with their own agenda. Their role seemed very reactionary, and the onus was very much on the clergy to be hands-on, in-charge, doing what was needed.

This ministry seemed restricted, and I don't mean that as a criticism, just an observation of the situation. They provided worship, that was their main mission, and then, where they could, helped those in need within the parish, supported local schools, and were involved in local life - events, charitable initiatives, celebrations etc. It was all very good work, and I admired how the prevailing attitude was can-do, positive, and doing the most that they could with what they had.

It was very different to ministry at SJP. SJP is a gathered community, so the geographical parish has little to no influence on the demographic of the congregation. It has been known for people to visit from the nearby hotels - I was very welcoming of a gentleman who strongly reminded me of the Monopoly man, and as we were chatting, I couldn't help but wonder if the three piece suit, chained pocket watch, bowler hat, and (I kid you not) monocle, as an outfit, might just be worth more than my parents' house - but it's rare. Stephen Fry lives in St James' Sq, and as a parish resident was kind enough to give us an interview for our quarterly magazine, but obviously doesn't come on a Sunday!

Anyway, the community of St James' has chosen itself. The church's main attraction is not it's the one nearest - the church's main attraction is its soul. The vision of the church is a radically inclusive interpretation of what it means to follow Christ, with a large drive to be proactive in creating change which can be seen in their mission statement. And the diversity of the community goes beyond one congregation. There are people who identify as part of the SJP community who have never met; it's a network of groups, and massive, multiple Venn diagram.

So it is deeply impressive that the ministry of St James' is just so good. I have been told over and over that there's nowhere like SJP and good gracious is that true! There is just so much going on - if that's the diagram of the people, imagine what management of it all would be drawn as! The key as I see it has been delegation. Ministry is provided by the clergy certainly, but also the entire team of staff really, like the vergers, and also a dedicated set of long-term volunteers, enthusiastic mid-term volunteers, ad-hoc volunteers, and basically everyone is welcome to pitch in.

It's a way to keep the behemoth running, and it works because of two things. One, the prevailing attitude is of encouragement and a rejection of judgement. And two, people respond to that attitude because they have chosen the church themselves, and if you've actively aligned yourself with a community, you are much more likely to want to support it.

Being a visitor at weekday services has been interesting; I’ve been to seven, three in Cambridge and four in London. I didn’t think about it before I started, but I shouldn’t have been surprised that the churches that are most likely to have actual services during the week – rather than other activities – are Anglo-Catholic, and high Anglican churches. So there hasn’t been the diversity of experience I thought I would get from visiting so many. It has been achingly lovely that the services are so familiar; the theory of Common Worship in practice is wonderfully reassuring for a newcomer.

It didn’t really give me an idea of their ministry though. I occasionally looked round at notice boards and the like, and the priests were varying degrees of welcoming. Some didn’t come up to me at all, some stood by the door and did a basic handshake greeting, and some kept me in conversation about myself, why I was there etc. Obviously the latter was most enjoyable for me (an extrovert). So the only ministry I really experienced was a dedication to keeping up tradition and a regular, frequent schedule of worship and Eucharist. Only two had coffee afterwards, both in Cambridge, and presumably they did so because they were morning services, as opposed to lunchtime or evening. The third morning service, also Cambridge, was nice simply because I was the only person who turned up, which pleased the priest no end. The intimacy of a two-person Eucharist was novel and absolutely great – the feeling of connection and sacredness was totally different to a big Sunday morning congregation affair.

The eighth church I have visited was a Sunday evening service at a conservative, evangelical church. TOTALLY different ministry, jeez. Not a Eucharist service, to my surprise. Millions of young people and students, singing worship songs with a band. A leader in casual normal clothes speaking about the church’s recent activity, and then interviewing one of the young people about their journey from Hindu to atheist to Christian, with very leading questions like “What was it that made atheism just not work for you?” Then a humongous sermon that didn’t really say much except repeat and underline very basic principles of the faith. And it was Pentecost, but was that mentioned? Nope. Which made this outfit I happened to be wearing stick out even more.

The leader came straight up to me and was very insistent in recommending I read the Gospel (as if I haven’t). A small part of me wondered if he thought I was possessed by a fire demon.

So obviously this experience was a very different ministry. The service was simple, singing and talking and reading the Bible. The thinking was minimal, the speaker similarly sticking with simple truths and not going very deep. Doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest, but people want different things out of their communal worship, and their religion itself I suppose. Not everyone responds/finds it useful to have a structured liturgical year, or have a physicality to their ritual of moving around, bowing, call and response, eating and drinking. For some, life is complicated, and religion is a way of having easy answers to big questions, so there is a part of life they don’t need to think or worry about.

It was popular, so the ministry did appeal to a lot of people. And – leaving the conservatism aside – creating a simple space for people’s spiritual life to be a relaxing, easy experience I suppose is a good ministry to provide, and the basic principles extolled were about the same as I’ve experienced elsewhere. I just hope that as the congregants get older, they go further afield to seek deeper wisdom so their journey with God doesn’t get stuck at this surface level beginners stage.

When it comes to mission, I don’t really think I have any experience. It immediately brings to mind “God Hates Fags” signs, and that’s definitely from media intake rather than personal experience.  My reflection on my experience of mission is that I need to get some!

Video: Living on a prayer

Less vocation-related, but a sharing of only my second experience leading a group religious discussion about prayer. See the video for my presentation, or the full text is below, followed by notes from the discussion.

Prayer is a big topic, but here at Circus Spirit, we decided to concentrate on “What is prayer?” and “Does it work?”

What is prayer? A year ago, I might have been able to give you a simple answer, when actually I didn’t really know.

Does it work? Again, a year ago, I would have shied away from thoughts of ‘the power of prayer’. I knew that I was supposed pray, but I also knew that I was absolutely terrible at it. I chose this topic in no small part to educate and motivate myself.

But improving at prayer is a tricky business. Priest Kevin Scully puts it quite neatly: “How does one learn to pray? By praying. Is there a way to learn more about prayer? Yes, by praying. What does one do if one experiences barrenness in prayer? Pray. How can one deepen a sense of the divine? By prayer.”

It’s a very subjective act, and I would put forward that ‘what is prayer’ and ‘does it work’ are both subjective questions.

That said, as with most human activities, there are a lot of similar experiences. Prayer is a common feature of most religions, and even people who don’t have a religion, pray, often in their own way and for their own reasons. People pray for all sorts of reasons and to all sorts of objects – to one divinity, to many gods, or to gurus, spirits or angels, saints or the dead, or concepts, like ‘Wisdom’, personified in the Psalms for example.

I talk to God. I talk to God with a reverence that I would give a leader and a boldness as if I were talking to a friend. My most common prayer is gratitude. My second most is generally a desperate plea for help.

This echoes a classic structure of prayer from my own religion, Christianity. It is often described as ‘adoration, confession and petition’; I was introduced to it long before I knew such big church words; I was introduced to it by a friend, whose advice was to pray the ‘teaspoon prayer’. TSP = thank you, sorry, please.

This is the way that I and many sustain our connection to God. Like any relationship, it takes time and effort, and whilst good to acknowledge where we know we’ve done wrong and ask forgiveness, the confession, it is also a dynamic of give and take – adoration and petition. As for petition, I ask for things, I do, because it’s not a one sided relationship where only I put in an effort.

And as for adoration, I praise God for the blessings in my life and the wonders in the world. Whilst I do try to show this gratitude in my everyday life, it is important for our relationship to communicate directly and put into words my gratitude.

Note, I did not say it was important for God, but important for our relationship. Often an intellectual barrier to beginning, growing and sustaining a prayer life is, if God, an all-knowing divinity already knows what I’m sorry for, how grateful I am, and what I want or need, why ask? Now, as a religious person, an easy answer for me to give would be ‘because God commands it’.

But that’s not good enough. That’s not enough reason, for me. So I found a few reasons why God might command it. As these are my thoughts, they are inevitably Christian-centric, and they certainly aren’t an exhaustive list. They may not even be right! But here we go.

Why would God command us to pray? If we were blessed without supplication, if we got good things in life having not asked at all, we could be tempted to assume independence. For God and humanity both, that is the opposite of what many feel are our true natures. They would say our natures, God’s and humanities natures, are of relationship; we can see it in humanity, because many agree that it is a base purpose and desire of a person to seek connection and intimacy, and we see it in God, in Christianity anyway, because God is a trinity, a single power in a status of eternal relationship.

Similarly, many would say that God desires communion, like a Father finds an unreadable scribble given by his child precious beyond measure. It cannot be denied that people’s experiences throughout the millennia have been of a divinity that communicates. Now you may not think any of the experiences were supernatural or divine in nature, but you can understand the conclusion of some of those who do think they were divine, that God communicates because God does want to hear from us directly, even though it has no impact on what God knows. It is not the content of, nor even the scribble itself that the Father cherishes; it is the act of giving, and being given the scribble that bonds the child and parent.

As I said, a relationship needs effort, and cooperation on both sides. For a lot of people, prayer opens our hearts so God may work on us; we have to open our end before God can easily get through. This is also a reason we need to pray to an all-powerful God – even an all-powerful God would hope to work with a subject that is willing and open to being worked upon. I’m not saying it’s necessary, but you can understand why God would prefer it that way.

Christianity also has a tradition of meditation, which is attempting to reflect on revelations of God; and a tradition of contemplation, which is simply bathing in God’s love.

An answer to the question ‘what is prayer’, in comparison to these two similar states, meditation and contemplation, might be that prayer is focused time of sometimes monologue, and sometimes dialogue, that we may be aware of grace and blessing, and aware of our own wrongdoing; a time to remember to be grateful, and to be repentant. To my mind, prayer is pure attention, an expression of our response to life and the world.

David Macintrye wrote of prayer in the 1800s, and he quoted someone called John Laidlaw who said “A sense of real want is the very root of prayer”.

But if that’s the case, what’s with all the tat that often surrounds prayer? What’s with prayer beads, mandalas, prayer mats, icons, bells to get God’s attention, using scripture to pray, and all the millions of words of written prayers, whole books of them?

Now this can be answered in two ways, and applied to all props, costume and ritual in religion – firstly, humanity is a bit rubbish left on its own to contemplate the ‘other’ in the world; most of humanity needs tools to help it focus, otherwise ‘pure attention’ is corrupted by the distraction of something shiny, or delicious, or naked, that seems must more important and certainly more interesting. Nothing wrong with shiny, delicious, naked things, but if you want a relationship with God, if you want to connect with that ‘other’ within you and all around you, if you want a chance to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, you have to pay attention.

And secondly, prayer can be a sensual experience, not just about what you say. The words may be intensified by the tactile motion of running prayer beads through your fingers. Or if you’re not speaking but ‘listening to the silence’, an atmosphere enhanced by pungent incense, or an environment with rich beauty for the eyes to feast on, or an icon of a saint whose life story speaks to you of God; even the colourful, embossed cover of a book of holy scripture which glorifies its contents – if you’re listening to the silence, that experience, that living in the moment of stimulated senses, the experience itself of the coming together of beauty, that experience can be a wordless prayer

So the need for ritual is common, even in silent spontaneous prayer.  In Islam, there is an understanding of two areas of prayer, the spontaneous, and the official to be recited. Most rituals offer some form of written prayer.

There’s private written prayer, such as a prayer diary, or prayers written on the prayer boards in churches. There are official prayers, in the aforementioned books of prayers, or prayers of intercession at public acts of worship that are composed in advance for the occasion. Prayers can be danced, said, sung, said in tongues, chanted.

And of course there are religious structures of daily prayer. Official practice, either mandated or not, is for Muslims to pray 5 times a day, Jews to pray 3 times a day, and for some Christians to pray 8 times a day (though most prescribe 2 as a more reasonable practice!).

Prayer does have a spiritual core, but it is often most effective when it has a practical element. That is why it is a practice, and we are often called to incorporate it as part of our lives, not just let it sit isolated and separate from our lives.

I’m going to end by quoting Richard Sibbes, an Anglican theologian from the Elizabethan era, who has a practical answer to why we should pray. He said “It was a rule in ancient times, “Lay thy hand to the plough, and then pray.” No man should pray without ploughing, nor plough without prayer.” Which is a pretty way of saying life is not worth living without attempting to find its meaning, but wrestling with that meaning is pointless without also living.

Amen.

Points raised in discussion afterwards:

- pray to live, live to pray

- change perspective from if I don't get get what I ask for, God isn't listening

- God can still get in if we are closed

- sense of 'in the moment'

- prayer provides refocus, leads to perspective and can have effect

- prayer, meditation and contemplation can be linked and feed into each other

- not just we speak to God and God speaks to us, the conversation can overlap in the 'Spirit praying within us'

- all-powerful God's power is love and love is not coersive

- the act of prayer can generate the words, rather than the reverse

- should not feel guilty about petition