Sharing my experience of a calling to be ordained, and the process in the Church of England, as it happens.
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Friday, 2 December 2016
Tuesday, 30 August 2016
Video: Fourth chat with the curate, plus being like the Trinity
--
So in a nutshell, I said that I find it reassuring that the Trinity resolves the tension of unity and individuality in God's very being; that what seems like a paradox of relationship vs self is actually a fundamental part of God and therefore a fundamental part of us as made in God's image - it's not something for us to overcome but to embrace about ourselves and our lives. God is the epitome of cohesive relationship without the loss of separate distinctions, and therefore God is the example we can follow to try to resolve the tension in our lives.
I am reassured that I follow a God whose being is one of simultaneous one-ness and three-ness, because however hard it looks when I'm struggling to find compatibility between being myself - having a unique combination of characteristics, temperament, needs, and desires - and being part of so many relationships - and groups, and the responsibilities towards convergence and consensus that those entail - it is possible find harmony in being both simultaneously.
See if you recognise these scenarios from your own life:
Sometimes I feel totally isolated; I prioritise only my own needs, and do things on only my terms. And that leads to problems. Friends and groups in my life feel abandoned or ignored; I as an extrovert get grumpy, and sometimes a bit melancholic. Days start to feel monotonous, and as if I've unplugged from life, and I wonder where my life is going. I feel like I've forgotten something but all my obvious needs are seen to, and doing anything beyond basic requirements seems like a chore.
Sometimes I lose all sense of self; I priotise only the needs of others, and make decisions without factoring in the consequences of my actions on myself. And that leads to problems. I over-extend myself, running out of mental, physical, and emotional resources. I become exhausted but have promised to do something else so keep going, sometimes feeling like crying just because I feel so terrible. I want to resent people and situations draining my resources, and find it difficult to enjoy all the activities I'm doing because they have now become chores.
These are extremes, but I know I've been in both scenarios multiple times, and I think it comes down to this difficult balancing act. My identity as an individual can sometimes feel at odds with my identity as part of relationships. My sense of difference and distance from 'others' doesn't gel with my sense of belonging and being part of 'us'.
This comes up in the context of talking with the curate because I am foreseeing the tension in my future. I look ahead, look at the impending discernment process, and I get double vision, because there are two paths going at the same time (which I've said before) - one journey with God, and one journey with the Church. Now the former feels more 'real', it's the personal journey where I know I can be entirely genuine and trust completely in it. And that clashes with the latter, which I'm scared will feel contrived, because it involves other fallible people and I don't trust myself or them enough to feel confident we'll get it right.
Desmond Tutu quotes the concept of ubuntu, which officially means "the belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity" and Tutu explains as: "My humanity is caught up, inextricably bound up, in yours. We belong in a bundle of life. We say a person is a person through other persons." which is a bit like what the curate got out of my analogy with the Trinity. I was looking at that the discernment process has this fundamental dual nature of 'ultimately' being an attempt at following God's calling, but also 'ultimately' being a series of relationships with a very human element. He went further and looked at it as an opportunity for us to experience, see and recognise our faith and ourselves through others.
I think that's what he was saying. We were a tad at cross purposes I fear. But it is true that we aren't often naturally inclined to approach faith through others. It always feels like 'faith' is this internal thing totally separate from outside, just between you and God. And yeah, there is a personal connection, but just like the Trinity, there is a communal connection at the same time as the separate one and they intertwine and inform each other! So my discernment journey with God is simultaneously distinct and intimately connected with my discernment journey with the Church, a constant dance of unity and separation, just like the Trinity. We are both connected in unity and also defined as individuals by our humanity. My relationships with the people on the discernment process will inform my relationship with God as well as vice versa. And its helps to know that God is also in a similar dance of relationship as well, so I have a chance of striking a balance. Just as God could not be God without being Trinity, I cannot live my personal truth in the light of God without the feedback loop of faith and identity from relationships with others.
Or something like that.
Tuesday, 12 July 2016
Friday, 1 July 2016
Going Further: the heart of my faith = sharing the good news?
See this post for an intro to this series.
What is the heart of [the candidate's] faith: the good news they would wish to share with others?
This is a very well-timed post to write considering my recent conversation with the rector about her reservations concerning my faith - what my relationship with God looks like, and how I express it to others.
--
So turning to the question, my immediate response is the heart of my faith is a trust in God, and the the good news I wish to share with others is that they can trust God too. God is for everyone. That doesn't mean everyone should be Christian, be religious, or even put Jesus at the centre of their lives. Jesus is the good news but the Messiah, the Son of God, the Word Made Flesh is so much more than the bloke from Nazareth.
Jesus embodies the right ordering of creation, that God and humankind are in harmonious relationship. That is the good news, that is what Jesus being born into the world and fulfilling the Law shows us. God is for everyone because everyone should have a relationship with God. I like John's gospel best, even though it is dense as a jungle and a bit mind-bendy, because of the emphasis on the Spirit and that beautiful prologue about the Word. To have a relationship with God through Jesus is to know the Word by the power of the Spirit, and I don't think that necessarily means knowing the bloke from Nazareth.
I think our mission is to spread the Word, and the Word is however God best has a relationship with each person. Our Word, our story is a unique back and forth between each of us and God. Sure, I think the Christian church and being a follower of Jesus of Nazareth is probably the best road for the majority of people. But the 'majority' of all humankind that has lived, is living, and will live, still leaves a whopping number of people who are the minority (the minority of a massive number is still a big number).
I like the 'many paths on the mountain' pluralism metaphor. If God is the destination, the top of the mountain, there are many ways up the mountain. There are lots of places to start from, there are paths that intersect, and cross, and converge at points. And the top is big, so when people are looking to it, and reach it, it looks different to each individual. Exclusivists, those that say their path is the only one, imagine the mountain has a fence, and a gate to only one, fenced path. Pluralists think it's a free for all. Inclusivists like me think Christ has cleared one path, without any barriers, but some people want or need to go another way and it's just as legitimate, just maybe not as easy.
I feel like the perception that is most pervasive among both religious and non-religious folks is that all religion is inherently exclusivist, and that doesn't sit right with most people in modern western first world culture, AND a lot of people in cultures of eastern religion (eastern theological thought is often a lot more pluralistic). I want to share the good news that it isn't like that! God is vastly more complex and loving than to have a boxed in, one-size-fits-all relationship with humankind, when humankind is beautifully and wonderfully made intrinsically varied and diverse. God has created each us as a unique soul so why would God need uniformity in our relationships with God?
The heart of my faith is a trust in God. Some people have trust issues; their relationship to God looks very different to mine. I rejoice with anyone who has a relationship to God and want to invite others to see the glory of serving the Creator who is at the heart of the world. But I don't want to tell them they have to trust God, or follow Christ, or anything other than what Jesus summed up as the only universal truth that everyone can take to heart is 'love God, love neighbour'. Everything else is up for debate, including what that looks like in different people's lives.
I feel the only evil we have to overcome is human evil, and the how and why are right there in the Great Commandment. I don't like overuse of 'evil' as a concept, which links to the terrible messages most people are getting about religion. I am religious because I want to see a better world, and following God in my way gives me the tools and strength to do my part in bringing about that better world. It's not a dogmatic as 'do what God says and you will receive the kingdom of heaven'. More like 'form a relationship with God and seek the ways of love that bring about the kingdom of heaven on earth'. The Word, and Love, are huge, world-encompassing aspects of the vastly greater reality of God, and for me, they are the aspects on which my trust hangs as the heart of my faith, and the aspects I feel called to express and bring people to, in their own way, by the grace of God partly working through me.
What is the heart of [the candidate's] faith: the good news they would wish to share with others?
This is a very well-timed post to write considering my recent conversation with the rector about her reservations concerning my faith - what my relationship with God looks like, and how I express it to others.
--
So turning to the question, my immediate response is the heart of my faith is a trust in God, and the the good news I wish to share with others is that they can trust God too. God is for everyone. That doesn't mean everyone should be Christian, be religious, or even put Jesus at the centre of their lives. Jesus is the good news but the Messiah, the Son of God, the Word Made Flesh is so much more than the bloke from Nazareth.
Jesus embodies the right ordering of creation, that God and humankind are in harmonious relationship. That is the good news, that is what Jesus being born into the world and fulfilling the Law shows us. God is for everyone because everyone should have a relationship with God. I like John's gospel best, even though it is dense as a jungle and a bit mind-bendy, because of the emphasis on the Spirit and that beautiful prologue about the Word. To have a relationship with God through Jesus is to know the Word by the power of the Spirit, and I don't think that necessarily means knowing the bloke from Nazareth.
I think our mission is to spread the Word, and the Word is however God best has a relationship with each person. Our Word, our story is a unique back and forth between each of us and God. Sure, I think the Christian church and being a follower of Jesus of Nazareth is probably the best road for the majority of people. But the 'majority' of all humankind that has lived, is living, and will live, still leaves a whopping number of people who are the minority (the minority of a massive number is still a big number).
I like the 'many paths on the mountain' pluralism metaphor. If God is the destination, the top of the mountain, there are many ways up the mountain. There are lots of places to start from, there are paths that intersect, and cross, and converge at points. And the top is big, so when people are looking to it, and reach it, it looks different to each individual. Exclusivists, those that say their path is the only one, imagine the mountain has a fence, and a gate to only one, fenced path. Pluralists think it's a free for all. Inclusivists like me think Christ has cleared one path, without any barriers, but some people want or need to go another way and it's just as legitimate, just maybe not as easy.
| Terrible drawing of exclusivism |
| Terrible drawing of inclusivism |
| Terrible drawing of pluralism |
The heart of my faith is a trust in God. Some people have trust issues; their relationship to God looks very different to mine. I rejoice with anyone who has a relationship to God and want to invite others to see the glory of serving the Creator who is at the heart of the world. But I don't want to tell them they have to trust God, or follow Christ, or anything other than what Jesus summed up as the only universal truth that everyone can take to heart is 'love God, love neighbour'. Everything else is up for debate, including what that looks like in different people's lives.
I feel the only evil we have to overcome is human evil, and the how and why are right there in the Great Commandment. I don't like overuse of 'evil' as a concept, which links to the terrible messages most people are getting about religion. I am religious because I want to see a better world, and following God in my way gives me the tools and strength to do my part in bringing about that better world. It's not a dogmatic as 'do what God says and you will receive the kingdom of heaven'. More like 'form a relationship with God and seek the ways of love that bring about the kingdom of heaven on earth'. The Word, and Love, are huge, world-encompassing aspects of the vastly greater reality of God, and for me, they are the aspects on which my trust hangs as the heart of my faith, and the aspects I feel called to express and bring people to, in their own way, by the grace of God partly working through me.
Wednesday, 29 June 2016
Sixth chat with the rector
On 22nd June 2016 I met with the rector again. We talked first of Scotland, as I spent a week staying with friends -
[*Side note about my time in Scotland*
The household was one preteen, one teen, mother and father. The latter is a parish priest, so I put my vocation hat on at various points throughout the week. Talking about my vocation to a priest who is a personal friend, more catholic than me, with a very different disposition (read: quiet, composed, academic introvert), a parish priest in Scotland not England (so working for the Scottish Episcopal Church, which is Anglican but not CofE), and not of my hyper-liberal millennial bubble, was a good experience for me. He was very helpful talking about ministry, and let me sit in on a meeting with the pastoral group, and overall it was interesting seeing a priest at close quarters in the home, hearing about and seeing the day-to-day rhythm, and events and tasks involved in the job.]
- but we quickly got down to business. Last time we met, she said she would talk to the curate, talk to my clergy line manager at SMITF, and read some blog posts/watch some vlogs. She also said that she had talked to the ADO (area director of ordinands), the person to whom she will send me when she writes a reference. I was hoping to get that process going this summer, but she put her cards on the table - she doesn't want to, yet.
So let's address the disappointment here before I continue. Yes, it's disappointing, especially as she doesn't want to refer me for at least another few months probably, bringing my total exploration pre-official discernment process to a year.
Following your calling is often an endurance test against frustration and human gatekeepers, a feature of our chosen paths about which the writer of this blog and I have commiserated each other. It sometimes feels like God is reaching into your life and deliberately putting things in the way of the path you want to take. Apparently, the path you want to take is never the one God wants you to take, even though you're trying to follow God's calling in the first place! I've mentioned God breaking down my expectations before, so really it's my own fault that I built up another plan for the future, another set of expectations to meet, not learning from the past at all. It's just so counter-intuitive to have the level of no control that even includes no expectations, I'm finding it very tricky. Doesn't stop God, God's plans still chug along, it just leads to disappointment for me. So I'm trying not to let the disappointment hang around. I do trust in God ultimately, it's not a crushing defeat, there are no crushing defeats in following God if I listen to what I'm being told to do, so I have confidence that all shall be as it should.
It was really helpful that she expanded her reservations - we engaged in discussion about how I had not given her a sense of my faith. It was in the context of 'resilient faith', an important thing to have but also, crucially, for selectors to see that I have, as it is a serious risk that in the the first few years of ministry, new priests get burnt out without the sustenance of robust faith. So over the time that we've spent talking, she hasn't seen evidence of 'who I am in the light of God' and what my relationship with God is like.
I've got to admit, I was a little astonished. Of the nine criteria, Faith was not on my list of concerns. I suspect that it's such a fundamental part of my life, it's so obvious as a basis for my calling, I've not acknowledged it explicitly in itself, or studied it, instead focusing on the manifestations of my faith, and how to go where it leads me, rather than consider the big picture, the backdrop, the bedrock on which is all stands. "They should demonstrate a personal commitment to Christ and a mature, robust faith which shapes their life and work. Candidates should show an ability to reflect critically on their faith and make connections between faith and contemporary life. They should demonstrate a capacity to communicate their faith engagingly and effectively." I have not demonstrated this, and therefore, quite rightly, my rector does not have confidence to send me to be held up to this measure.
So my homework is to do the daily examen exercise, from which I am to write notes to bring to our next session in two weeks. Apparently she sees hints of what she's looking for in my videos, and when I read out my written notes eg from my spiritual journal, so this exercise is to the wean me into looking for God in my life more consciously, and then get me to talk about it, starting with a medium that I'm better at than the pressured situation of talking one-to-one, 'off the cuff' as it were.
Things are progressing, and though it's not at a pace that is comfortable - apparently seeing her again in two weeks is 'meeting again quickly' - all shall be well. I have faith in that.
[*Side note about my time in Scotland*
| My trip did not involve bagpipes. |
- but we quickly got down to business. Last time we met, she said she would talk to the curate, talk to my clergy line manager at SMITF, and read some blog posts/watch some vlogs. She also said that she had talked to the ADO (area director of ordinands), the person to whom she will send me when she writes a reference. I was hoping to get that process going this summer, but she put her cards on the table - she doesn't want to, yet.
| Disappointed panda is disappointed |
Following your calling is often an endurance test against frustration and human gatekeepers, a feature of our chosen paths about which the writer of this blog and I have commiserated each other. It sometimes feels like God is reaching into your life and deliberately putting things in the way of the path you want to take. Apparently, the path you want to take is never the one God wants you to take, even though you're trying to follow God's calling in the first place! I've mentioned God breaking down my expectations before, so really it's my own fault that I built up another plan for the future, another set of expectations to meet, not learning from the past at all. It's just so counter-intuitive to have the level of no control that even includes no expectations, I'm finding it very tricky. Doesn't stop God, God's plans still chug along, it just leads to disappointment for me. So I'm trying not to let the disappointment hang around. I do trust in God ultimately, it's not a crushing defeat, there are no crushing defeats in following God if I listen to what I'm being told to do, so I have confidence that all shall be as it should.
It was really helpful that she expanded her reservations - we engaged in discussion about how I had not given her a sense of my faith. It was in the context of 'resilient faith', an important thing to have but also, crucially, for selectors to see that I have, as it is a serious risk that in the the first few years of ministry, new priests get burnt out without the sustenance of robust faith. So over the time that we've spent talking, she hasn't seen evidence of 'who I am in the light of God' and what my relationship with God is like.
So my homework is to do the daily examen exercise, from which I am to write notes to bring to our next session in two weeks. Apparently she sees hints of what she's looking for in my videos, and when I read out my written notes eg from my spiritual journal, so this exercise is to the wean me into looking for God in my life more consciously, and then get me to talk about it, starting with a medium that I'm better at than the pressured situation of talking one-to-one, 'off the cuff' as it were.
Things are progressing, and though it's not at a pace that is comfortable - apparently seeing her again in two weeks is 'meeting again quickly' - all shall be well. I have faith in that.
Saturday, 18 June 2016
Going Further: why are you here and why now?
See this post for an intro to this series.
During their meeting with enquirers, DDOs and Vocations Advisers will want to listen carefully to the vocational stories of the enquirers and to tease out from the enquirers their response to two key questions: ‘why are you here?’ and ‘why now?’
Why are you here?
My life has been leading towards an inexorable future, and I fully embrace it. I am meant to be a priest, and I want to be a priest. Church is where I belong, and I want to continue the tradition, and also improve it, and provide humanity with the tools for living their lives as God's children; give them liturgy, show them wisdom, encourage dialogue and thinking about divine, philosophical, and ethical matters. I'm not wired to be able to prioritise my relationship with God without having it tangibly at the centre of my life ie. as my job, and my very identity, but it has become my priority to serve God in the best way that I can do, so I must arrange my life accordingly.
I feel such a desire to be a priest, but my calling is more than that. There is a resonance, a rightness to it, like my soul has finally been plugged into the universe and powered up. I think I would be good at it, with the right training, practice, and focus. I've always thought I would become a priest, and when the time came to put my feet on the path, I was overjoyed, terrified, unsure of the exact path ahead of me but sure that ordination was on it somewhere along the line. I think it would suit me, and be the best way for me live to the fullest - "The glory of God is a human being fully alive" (Iranaeus).
I want to nourish people's souls, even if they don't realise it. This is my part of the Church's mission to a tangible expression of God's love to the world, and becoming a priest is the best way for me to do that - it's the only way I'll fully realise it. A constant theme in my life has been stories, and I am called to use stories, listen to stories, be in stories, tell stories, spread stories, explain stories, absorb stories, nudge stories. It is by changing the stories in and the story of the world that we end suffering and bring about the next chapter - the kingdom of God.
Being a priest is the best way for me to do that in the most important context, in people's spiritual lives, their most intimate and personal relationships - with God, others, and the world. A priest has that place in people's lives. People expect you to hear their stories, you're allowed to tell stories, it's not surprising for a priest to get stuck in and change the story; your life is dedicated to the greatest story ever told, you represent that story, people look to you to get to heart of stories, and share the stories that matter. The epitome of that is reenacting the story of the Last Supper in the Eucharist, and meeting Christ at the very human setting of a shared meal. It would be amazing to have authority and duty to introduce people to Christ. It is one of my greatest joys to learn, discuss, teach, and expand my and others' horizons.
It's also important to me to express my identity, and the most important part of who I am is being a disciple of Christ. We are called to evanglise, and I think I am best suited to convey that by my unapologetic identity in devotion to following Jesus. I want to communicate the mission of spreading the good news in people's lives by trusting God to work through me, and being a priest gives me the context to do that. My gift is focus, so it makes sense that my job, and beyond that, my full-time identity, is a religious context, to put my focus to God's work. I want to have the licence to be truly enthusiastic about God and Christ, to really let my geek flag fly. I love God, and if my life can be spent in God's company, doing God's work, spreading God's love, being used by God, every day all day, in my favourite place or with lots of different people, challenged, tested, and maybe in the end doing something that has meaning - that sounds like true happiness.
Why now?
God has always been in my life. When I was a child, it was just obvious, a definite truth I didn't think about. My parents didn't tell me God existed or didn't. But when I read my children's illustrated Bible, I loved it. When I went to a CofE primary school, I learnt the Lord's prayer, said grace, went to church for harvest and Christingles; and it was great, and I wasn't really thinking about God but the worship was positive, and I wanted to keep going to Christingles after I left that school.
I realised as a teenager that I needed to start thinking about things a bit more clearly because we were studying different religions. I came to understand that I had a relationship with God through Christianity as a default setting rather than conscious belief, and that wouldn't do. At that point I actually acknowledged my faith in Christ specifically, rather than as just the version of a story of God that I went along with. I learnt about the variety of beliefs and worship styles and built a picture in my head of what sort of Christian I was, and out of the blue decided to wear a cross to publicly express that.
God has been working my life in this step by step way the entire time, starting as the distant Father. When I started at SJP, I really started to get to know God in Christ, in fellowship and discipleship. Now I think I'm getting to know God the Spirit, a much longer, deeper process that is wakening my spirit within me. 2015 was a tough year in my spiritual life because I was building my stage management career and kept missing things at church, kept failing to develop a prayer life, and the worst point was not going to Holy Week, and feeling no sense of jubilation Easter morning.
It was at the point at which I tried to buckle down in my SM career that the heavens moved. I was not meant to establish a secular career. One day in September, I got a spiritual kick up the backside, the doors opened, and boom, NOW IS THE TIME.
I had always known this would happen. I recognised my sense of calling at 16, very clearly understanding and instantly accepting that I would end up a priest, eventually, one day. But God's schedule was not the one I had anticipated. The call, the kick, the moment that now, NOW I was to seek out my second and ultimate vocation, came much earlier than I thought. But in the grand scheme, it makes perfect sense that I drop everything and begin the next part of my journey.
My spirituality is blossoming. I've gained 8 years of personal development from my first vocation as a stage manager. I've received 5 years of parish experience and religious development. Continuing in theatre would have pushed my faith to the sidelines. And now the perfect opportunity to begin in ministry itself as plopped into my lap, to be the PA at SMITF. The reason I'm here now is because God has called me now, and God has called my now because it is the right time in my life.
During their meeting with enquirers, DDOs and Vocations Advisers will want to listen carefully to the vocational stories of the enquirers and to tease out from the enquirers their response to two key questions: ‘why are you here?’ and ‘why now?’
Why are you here?
My life has been leading towards an inexorable future, and I fully embrace it. I am meant to be a priest, and I want to be a priest. Church is where I belong, and I want to continue the tradition, and also improve it, and provide humanity with the tools for living their lives as God's children; give them liturgy, show them wisdom, encourage dialogue and thinking about divine, philosophical, and ethical matters. I'm not wired to be able to prioritise my relationship with God without having it tangibly at the centre of my life ie. as my job, and my very identity, but it has become my priority to serve God in the best way that I can do, so I must arrange my life accordingly.
I feel such a desire to be a priest, but my calling is more than that. There is a resonance, a rightness to it, like my soul has finally been plugged into the universe and powered up. I think I would be good at it, with the right training, practice, and focus. I've always thought I would become a priest, and when the time came to put my feet on the path, I was overjoyed, terrified, unsure of the exact path ahead of me but sure that ordination was on it somewhere along the line. I think it would suit me, and be the best way for me live to the fullest - "The glory of God is a human being fully alive" (Iranaeus).
I want to nourish people's souls, even if they don't realise it. This is my part of the Church's mission to a tangible expression of God's love to the world, and becoming a priest is the best way for me to do that - it's the only way I'll fully realise it. A constant theme in my life has been stories, and I am called to use stories, listen to stories, be in stories, tell stories, spread stories, explain stories, absorb stories, nudge stories. It is by changing the stories in and the story of the world that we end suffering and bring about the next chapter - the kingdom of God.
Being a priest is the best way for me to do that in the most important context, in people's spiritual lives, their most intimate and personal relationships - with God, others, and the world. A priest has that place in people's lives. People expect you to hear their stories, you're allowed to tell stories, it's not surprising for a priest to get stuck in and change the story; your life is dedicated to the greatest story ever told, you represent that story, people look to you to get to heart of stories, and share the stories that matter. The epitome of that is reenacting the story of the Last Supper in the Eucharist, and meeting Christ at the very human setting of a shared meal. It would be amazing to have authority and duty to introduce people to Christ. It is one of my greatest joys to learn, discuss, teach, and expand my and others' horizons.
It's also important to me to express my identity, and the most important part of who I am is being a disciple of Christ. We are called to evanglise, and I think I am best suited to convey that by my unapologetic identity in devotion to following Jesus. I want to communicate the mission of spreading the good news in people's lives by trusting God to work through me, and being a priest gives me the context to do that. My gift is focus, so it makes sense that my job, and beyond that, my full-time identity, is a religious context, to put my focus to God's work. I want to have the licence to be truly enthusiastic about God and Christ, to really let my geek flag fly. I love God, and if my life can be spent in God's company, doing God's work, spreading God's love, being used by God, every day all day, in my favourite place or with lots of different people, challenged, tested, and maybe in the end doing something that has meaning - that sounds like true happiness.
Why now?
God has always been in my life. When I was a child, it was just obvious, a definite truth I didn't think about. My parents didn't tell me God existed or didn't. But when I read my children's illustrated Bible, I loved it. When I went to a CofE primary school, I learnt the Lord's prayer, said grace, went to church for harvest and Christingles; and it was great, and I wasn't really thinking about God but the worship was positive, and I wanted to keep going to Christingles after I left that school.
I realised as a teenager that I needed to start thinking about things a bit more clearly because we were studying different religions. I came to understand that I had a relationship with God through Christianity as a default setting rather than conscious belief, and that wouldn't do. At that point I actually acknowledged my faith in Christ specifically, rather than as just the version of a story of God that I went along with. I learnt about the variety of beliefs and worship styles and built a picture in my head of what sort of Christian I was, and out of the blue decided to wear a cross to publicly express that.
God has been working my life in this step by step way the entire time, starting as the distant Father. When I started at SJP, I really started to get to know God in Christ, in fellowship and discipleship. Now I think I'm getting to know God the Spirit, a much longer, deeper process that is wakening my spirit within me. 2015 was a tough year in my spiritual life because I was building my stage management career and kept missing things at church, kept failing to develop a prayer life, and the worst point was not going to Holy Week, and feeling no sense of jubilation Easter morning.
It was at the point at which I tried to buckle down in my SM career that the heavens moved. I was not meant to establish a secular career. One day in September, I got a spiritual kick up the backside, the doors opened, and boom, NOW IS THE TIME.
I had always known this would happen. I recognised my sense of calling at 16, very clearly understanding and instantly accepting that I would end up a priest, eventually, one day. But God's schedule was not the one I had anticipated. The call, the kick, the moment that now, NOW I was to seek out my second and ultimate vocation, came much earlier than I thought. But in the grand scheme, it makes perfect sense that I drop everything and begin the next part of my journey.
My spirituality is blossoming. I've gained 8 years of personal development from my first vocation as a stage manager. I've received 5 years of parish experience and religious development. Continuing in theatre would have pushed my faith to the sidelines. And now the perfect opportunity to begin in ministry itself as plopped into my lap, to be the PA at SMITF. The reason I'm here now is because God has called me now, and God has called my now because it is the right time in my life.
Sunday, 24 January 2016
Video: First chat with the curate
I covered pretty much everything I wanted to say in this video, which is why it's a bit long.
Friday, 27 November 2015
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.
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?
Let's look at the Criteria again (see also previous post) and what I can't do or haven't got.
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.
| Faith is not always blind |
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.
***
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.
Sunday, 15 November 2015
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.
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.
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 |
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.
Thursday, 12 November 2015
Video: My faith story before the start of this blog
Now it is a reasonable hour of the day, as opposed to the dead of night like my first post, I'm going to set out a few more details of who I am, and my faith journey so far, to give a bit of background to where I am now.
Who am I? From a secular point of view, I grew up in a rural village in a middle class county in the south of England, with my mum, dad, and younger brother. I was schooled at a private girls school and a mixed state sixth form, spent a gap year first on work experience then travelling (see this blog) and I realised I was bisexual age 14 (see another blog. You can see I like blogging). I went to drama school to do a degree in stage management, and I have been working in the theatre industry in London as a freelance stage manager since August 2014, so for just over a year as I type. This in itself was a vocation that I wanted to do since I was 15, but I have since realised that it was a step within my greater vocation ie. my calling to ministry.
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. My mother is an atheist and my father is a non-practising pluralist. It wasn't that I grew up without God or being told God didn't exist, God just wasn't mentioned. I was baptised, but my parents really did it for social and cultural reasons. But my uncle gave us various children's Bibles so I had one as my favourite book for a while as a young child, without any real understanding of the stories as 'scripture'.
When I was 6, I spent two years at a Church of England primary school, so I learnt the Lord's prayer, said grace at lunchtime, sat through assemblies given by the local minister, and went to church twice a year, Harvest and Christingles services. I didn't like Harvest because it was at the really modern URC church (we had an ecumenical partnership in our village) but Christingles was in the tiny, ancient parish church that backed onto the fields. My love affair with the church started in those services, dark and cold but lit by candlelight with the magic of Christmas in the air, with the bonus of being trusted with open flame, and sweets of course. I'd blast out Shine Jesus Shine in the same way others my age sang the latest chart toppers or Disney tunes, and even when I left the school age 8, my dad took me each year for the next decade.
Consciously engaging with Christianity as a philosophy began in my Religious Studies classes at my new school. When I was about 12, my teacher answered a girl's question about what she personally as a Baptist thought counted to be Christian. She said if someone believed Jesus Christ was the Son of the one God, and he lived, died and was resurrected to save us from our sins, everything else was arbitrary, and even the how/why of those statements was up for debate. I looked down at the textbook on Christianity on my desk and realised I have thought of myself as a Christian since primary school but never thought about what I believed. It was more of a cultural default, part of being British. But I knew in that moment I did believe those two statements, so for the next years of school, I digested and dissected the different beliefs and practices of the different churches and navigated my own belief system.
When I was almost 14, I started noticing a girl around school who had a crucifix necklace, and I
| On holiday after starting to wear a cross. I still have that one. |
It was at sixth form, age 16, I met a girl who would become my best friend, who had grown up in a Church of England household, so knew a lot more about community worship. I knew the theory of worship styles, but had yet to find the motivation to go to a Sunday service or become involved in a congregation. So we would have discussions about our shared but basically very different religions, and she took me to one Sunday service in our two years studying for our A-Levels, as well as helping me pick out a Bible, which I had never actually thought about buying before, oddly.
On my gap year trip, I started going to church. It happened quite naturally, almost incidentally. My work experience had been with a Christian theatre group on tour, so I had had a little go at being with other Christians, like church-lite, but one day in a town called 1770 on the Australian coast, I went to a Sunday service and every week after that I googled the local Anglican wherever I woke up on the Sunday morning. I also picked up a devotional so I read that and the readings from my Bible, which I took with me, every day for a couple of months until it ran out.
Moving to London, one of my priorities was finding a church where I could throw myself in and really go for it. Having spent years working on my personal faith, time for some community faith. [This is a view I have gained retrospectively. At the time, none of it seemed liked the steady step by step progression it was.] I had met the associate rector of St James' Piccadilly in New Zealand, and I went along a few months after starting uni, and fell deeper in love. I could go on and on about St James', but for the purposes of this blog, the main things that SJP has done are: I go to church every week, I'm a reader, server, alto in the choir; I run the youth discussion group, gave a talk at the general discussion group. run the LGBT group including marching in the Pride parade with the Christians, do the tea and coffee after the service once a month; and I was confirmed in St Paul's Cathedral.
IN SUMMARY
6yr I went to Christingles
12yr I turned to Christ
14yr I wore a cross
18yr I went to church
19yr I found my church
21yr I got confirmed
I'll cover the last two years of my life in my next post. See you then!
God bless.
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