07/09/2021 Six years a-calling

Yet again an anniversary post that is a little late!

What does it mean to have a calling once you've been ordained?

The 'process' is so geared towards this final goal of ordination that it has nothing more to say afterwards. It's about post-ordination training. You're not discerning any more, you're doing it, you're living out your calling.

Well, I think that's not the right attitude at all. At the moment, I am following a training path of discovering what kind of priest I am to be. Then I must discern where I am called to after curacy, how to navigate things on my own, and also negotiate all the different parts of my life together as a priest. Discerning the lifestyle that goes with the vocation is as never-ending a task as the vocational stuff itself.

Life leading up to priesting proved a challenge. I kept forgetting that I was going to be priested, that it is a big deal and that I should have been getting excited by it. There was no building of anticipation. I will have to look back on my life and see two ordinations that were stripped back, joyless stepping stones, rather than celebratory, defining moments, as well as attend the ordinations of others that will be everything I never got, and I am severely disappointed. Is that selfish? Should I not just be glad that I could be priested? 

I have had some very formative moments recently enabling me to put into practice the theory about boundaries - how to put ministry things aside when having time off, how to put personal things aside when at 'work', plus deciding what priorities I have, when does the personal reasonably intrude, when does ministry reasonably ask sacrifice. This is also the tussle I'm having with my feelings about the priesting. I find it hard to discern what is reasonable to be upset about, and what is actually just one of the many parts of the vocation that I have to accept as asking a lot and move on. 

Once you're ordained, what are you willing to do or forsake for your calling?

My answer to that in 2021 will be different to what I would have said in 2015 before all this, and to what I would have said in 2019 while at college. It will change again over the years, I am sure. As will the answer to what I am not willing to do. 

Luckily, I am in a tradition where I could get excited about my first mass. Being priested meant starting to preside at the eucharist, and the first time I did that, I was able to actually be with the people who love and support me, as well as the people of my parish. What it means to have a calling right now is reflecting on what the eucharist means and what my part in it will be, as well as learning how my TI wants me to do it, and what I like and what I don't. 

Thoughts of the future are also getting bigger and bigger. In 2016, life narrowed down to the next year at SMITF, then it turned to the next three years at Cranmer, now it is the next 20 months of curacy with thoughts to what next after that. Will I get into the army, train at Sandhurst, then start as a chaplain? Is that where I'll be in 2024? Nothing is certain, nothing as been certain since I started this journey, but with the priesting, there is only being signed off my curacy as the final, definite hurdle, after which the world opens up again and I can look to live with opportunity and possibility, with more certainty, or at least choice and autonomy, than I'll have known for almost ten years. Only 20 months left on the vocation treadmill, and then... anything. 

Am I 'called' to be an army regulars padre? Am I called to a combination of roles, part time at a cathedral, a college chapel, and reserves army perhaps? Am I called to a particular part of the country, or to travel to different places around the world?

Right now I'm more concerned with the sermon I haven't finished, the LLF discussion group next week, the Advent course to write, the Christingle service to plan, the Deanery Chapter meeting we're hosting, posters to design and send off to print, a possible wedding couple to meet, an assembly series on the Lord's Prayer to design, going on two self-led readings days, trying to get ahead on Christmas cards and presents, my tax return is due, and the works on my leaking roof are still going on.

I wrote about the micro and the macro in my last blogpost, and that continues. What I've been reflecting on recently is how much I'm working out what I have learnt over the last six years. Noticing moments that I can track back to my year at St Martin's for example. My hairdresser commented recently that she was always impressed that I was able to answer all her questions, that I knew so much and could quote the Bible. Now, I don't think of myself as excelling in theological education - I have evangelical friends who know the Bible way more, catholic friends who know history and liturgy way more, and fellow curates who are much better and wider read than me in theology. 

But six years in, one thing I have is six years of doing this, intentionally, on top of interest and church engagement for 4 years before that. I am so, so grateful that I got three years to study, that I have a budget for putting books on my expenses, the time to put aside two days to read. I don't talk theology academically a lot, but those 6-10yrs are the underpinning of all that I do (on top of 29 years in relationship with God). 

Whether I'm debating integrity with the vicar, explaining marriage law to the LLF group, bantering at POT about how many sacraments there are, having tea with the only other female clergy person in the deanery, having dinner with a bereaved congregation member, chatting with the headteacher after assembly, shadowing the local hospital chaplain, scheduling emails, voting for Synod, handling DBS checks, hauling chairs from church to my house, communicating on the parents WhatsApp, or interviewing an evangelical who is against same-sex marriage - it's all coming from the years already done and the continuing study and formation, and generally not consciously at all.

It feels like, since August, I have started to turn a corner in my curacy. I am starting to show a marked confidence in most of what I'm doing, which is really encouraging. One factor will definitely be that since things opened up again in July and people are feeling more confident about living with Covid, I've been able to know people better, get to know some I had not even met yet, and just spend time over things that used to be restricted or impossible.

I definitely need a retreat though. This comes up every time I have spiritual direction. I had gotten into the discipline of a week's true retreat once a year, generally in the summer. That just wasn't possible last year, fair enough, but still hasn't been possible this year, which is starting to be a problem. That's why I'm using up annual leave for a week off soon, and two of those days are dedicated non-fiction reading days - both in bookshop cafes, one in this city, one in another. It's a plaster over the issue, and I'm planning on a proper retreat in the new year, but it'll tide me over, I hope.

One last thing I'll leave with you. The feeling of 'calling' waxes and wanes; sometimes I just don't have any sense of why I'm doing this with my life, other times I am overwhelmed with a sense of rightness and purpose. One of those times was when I read this sermon by Sam Wells as part of my sermon prep. It brought up feelings I don't think I've really felt in earnest since I plunged into college. I now relate to the opening illustration, the sense that my priesthood is bigger than my religion, the difficulty of being obedient, and holding to the fundamentals as "being practiced in the presence of God and being a reconciling presence in the life of others". I have definitely started to see what it means "to open your heart not only to see your own tears but to share the tears of others, to face the bleakness and tragedy of much of human life sustained only by one fragile consolation – that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ".

I'm up and running in 'Year Two' of curacy though it feels a bit like 'Year One 2.0'. Six years later I've come so far, and I thank God for getting me here. Who knows what will happen over the next 12 (11!) months?

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!

What even IS a lay curate??

My lay licensed worker team photo, taken outside my curacy church building

When I was told that my ordination was going to be postponed until at least Michaelmas because of Covid-19, I was hit with shock, like a gut punch. But I was lucky, because I was told in March, and as I was due to be ordained in July, I had time to rearrange my concept of my future. Some of my contemporaries were not so lucky, getting radio silence from their dioceses until the last minute, or pin-balling throughout March-June between umpteen different scenarios in regular updates on what to expect. Also, I had enough to think about as I finished my dissertation, got through the last of my teaching (online), planned my house move, and dealt with the emotional fallout of lockdown in a global pandemic. 

I moved on the same day I had planned, started working on the same day as had been agreed, and I have been doing the work of a new curate (in a pandemic) with only one difference based on my lay status. That one difference is that I sit in the congregation at services, in my smart work clothes, rather than in the sanctuary in robes. 

Laid out like this, it all seems like I should be happily bobbing along, content with my situation and basically unhindered by my lack of ordination.

However, I feel a little bit like I'm going mad. That sounds dramatic. What I mean is I have a slight, underlying feeling of being somehow fractured, unsettled, like some of my feathers are sticking up the wrong way just behind my periphery. This is not how things are supposed to be. I don't quite fit this state.

Now I know that in some dioceses this is actually a normal scenario, a new curate being ordained at Michaelmas, so I don't want to imply anything about that situation. All I can do is express my own experience, and it is one of a very disconcerting sense of an indeterminate and uncertain identity. I am one of the clergy and not ordained - this is not something for which my blueprint of the world has a reference point. 

One of the most tangible symbols of this is my clothes. "Well now", you might say, "what have clothes to do with being a minister? You're still ministering, right? Getting to know the parishioners, settling into the team dynamic, continued study, helping plan services, pastoral care, working on a theology project, updating the church website, leading the offices - how are any of the things you are actually doing with your time affected by your clothes?"

None. I will grant you, none of these things are being done differently because I am not in a clerical collar. But we are not simply the sum of our actions, and it is my sense of self within these tasks that is off-kilter, plus my theology of priesthood is ontological, not functional*. The collar is an outward sign of something of the self, and its absence - in a context in which it is expected - makes me aware of my lack. And it doesn't help that, whilst I spent three months knowing and preparing to be a lay curate, I previously spent years preparing to be an ordained curate. I can't throw off such long-held expectation so easily.

I walk the streets of this parish and pray, and I get what I can only describe as cognitive dissonance, and I feel guilty. I know it's irrational, but that's how my heart twangs. Cognitive dissonance occurs when a person holds two or more contradictory beliefs, ideas, or values; or participates in an action that goes against one of these three, and experiences psychological stress because of that. 

The action of praying for the parish connects with my understanding of a clergyperson's duties - a deacon or a priest prays for their people and their place. But I ain't no deacon, and so my mind immediately connects with my lay status and boom, internal turmoil. And I feel guilty because part of me is disgusted that I would pretend to be ordained. And then I get annoyed at myself - obviously a lay person can pray for whoever they blooming like, what theology am I touting here?! I'll reach up and gently touch my exposed throat, and grief will rise up in my belly. 

I'll remind myself that I only have to wait just a little bit longer, but the time is not exactly flying by. I'm having a wonderful time, I have no complaints, but it's like going down a slide sideways. Not quite aligned to fit the groove and motion of travel.

I don't mean to complain. These are not problems of huge suffering, and I acknowledge that. Plus I am guaranteed an end, it is acute not chronic, and these three months will dwindle to insignificance as the years of ordained ministry pile up. But this is my reality right now, a lay curate who can't figure out what that means to me. It challenges my ecclesiology, and makes me question what the difference between 'ordained' and 'not' means. 

An ordained person is still a member of the laos, the people, for all in the laos have a calling to something, the baptismal priesthood of all believers, and there just happens to be a minority for whom that is vocational priesthood. They are 'set aside' somewhat, but not separate, not vaunted or raised up. In my opinion, it's ontologically a sideways move to a distinct place in the Church. So ordination is not some huge elevation, but it is important, and integral to how the body of Christ is on earth. 

I am functioning as a curate, that's my role, but I'm not in my place in the Church yet. My very nature is held back from slotting into place. I must admit my role is also a little held back, besides not robing - the collar will add to people's perception of me, so I have not done the exploration of the parish that I would have already started if I were already ordained. I want to go into the businesses of the parish and say hello, but I know that's going to be less awkward with the collar, so I'm delaying it until after I am ordained.

This is true even if you don't have an ontological view of priesthood - wearing a collar means something, it is affective. 

I am the curate, but I am only half way to what that means to me. It will be such a relief when it happens, even though my role here in the parish will not change from one side of the weekend to the other. I will be a member of the people of God's Church, and on top of that something of my being, my mind, body and soul, will be dedicated and empowered in a new way. Until then, I'm going to feel (irrationally) like a fraud, functioning in an ecclesial identity I don't actually have. Yet.

*there's an interesting pair of blogposts about this argument within Anglicanism from both sides, here and here.

Video: Named, Known, and Called 2017

Video: sacrifices for my calling

What's the purpose of my being a priest?

In January, 11 months ago, I wrote this post about my existential crisis 'is being a priest what I was born to do', how will I know if I've succeeded at life, and should I try and plan my life with goals to achieve?

Since then I have surrendered to God, plus started the discernment process which will hopefully lead to a conclusive answer to the question of my calling. But these last few months working at St Martin's, I've begun to be plagued by questions going beyond whether I'm meant to be a priest.

If the answer's yes (of which I am convinced) then what is the purpose of 'Rev. Georgina'? This person in my future, who is she called to serve? Basically, as the kitty says:

So even though I swore off vocations events, a few women from the SMITF congregation were going to London Calling: Young Women, so I went along as a veteran to support them. It was a great event, and I actually got a few things from it.

• Liz Adekunle, the Archdeacon of Hackney, was pretty cool, and she used the phrase about women priests being "used creatively" which was the first thing I wrote down, as it struck a chord.
• The chaplains Julia Candy and Natalie Garnett spoke of being a 'point of contact with God' and "letting people know they're precious".
• Carys Walsh said that mission and evangelism means "enabling the people of God".

And since the event, I read this in a book by my vicar, Sam Wells - "the person who speaks to God for the people and speaks to the people on behalf of God."

These sort of things have been stewing in me as I contemplate how to be who I am for other people, and what that might look like once I'm a priest. I'm not expecting to figure it out any time soon. I've spent the last 10 years figuring out who I am and what a priest is and how those two go together; if I get recommended to training, I'll be spending 6-7 years figuring out what's beyond that.

The question has been asked and the process has begun, and of course it's not ultimately down to me - God will take me through it and revelation will happen when all is in place and ready. I know that; this isn't me trying to set out a career plan. This is me realising that having accepted who I'm meant to be, and whilst the Church are deciding whether they agree, I should start contemplating why I'm supposed to be a priest.

What am I meant to do with it? What am I meant to do with all the blessings and opportunities I've been given? What's it all for? What does God want me to do once I am a priest? What's my purpose?

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.

Video: Young Women - Your Call

On Saturday 23rd April, I went to Coventry Cathedral for a young women's vocation's conference. There were 87 young women attending and about 20 ordained and lay women organisers, with a handful of husbands helping! It was the first all-women event I've been to, and I was having flashbacks to my school days at a girls school.

I videoed a quick summary of my thoughts as I waited in the train station, and below is a run down of what we did, and the notes I took during the sessions.

I had train issues but still managed to get there in time (go contingency time!) and we were welcomed before sharing in morning prayer. Celtic morning prayer, which was cool (I recently book the Celtic Daily Prayer book, which I'm looking forward to using). The first key note was Bishop Anne talking about vocation as a woman.
Notes from the welcome:
- under 40 and especially under 30 women under-represented as priests
- feeling of sisterhood! Surrounded by others, all have a story
Notes from the first key note
- God's voice is richer for being the living Word as opposed to human words
- what does God trust me with? Trust me to do?
- courage - embrace pain and joy, the risk of trusting the next step
- phrase 'anunciation moment' [useful to describe my moment in September]
- have sense of the potential of who I can be in God
- children and ministy = careful planning
- lifetime of discerning God's call that weaves in and out of the tapestry of our lives [this was an overriding theme and a really good analogy, such as only being able to see the mess at the back rather than the picture God is weaving on the front]
- women reject job descriptions if they don't think they can do 10% of it
- trust God through fear, like fear that you're on the wrong path - you can't fall beyond the reach of God's will and God's love

After a tea break, the second key note was basically a session on how to defend when someone brings up arguments against the ordination of women. I gotta be honest, I started getting uncomfortable at this stage, and realised that being at a targeted event about vocation may be great for young women who might not otherwise look at themselves as potential priests because of their gender, but I did not have that problem. It also rankled that a) I was basically being defined primarily by my gender which is an attitude I don't tolerate in my life and b) it played into the system of the gender binary, which is itself a factor in the patriarchal systems of female oppression, as well as just out of date thinking that I reject.

But speaker Lis did use the phrase 'the Gender Agenda' and sadly, people do have an agenda based on repressing the female gender. I made notes, and it was, I suppose, useful to hear positive interpretations of scripture, but I'm making the decision not to put them here, as a statement of my belief that we need to get past this position of defense; it was needed 20 years ago, but my generation is putting gender aside. It is not relevant to judging my aptitude at ministry, and as much as I love my gender and am proud to be a woman, I will not even give the space for the possibility of argument any more. It is finished.

I enjoyed talking to the young woman who I ended up sitting next to for the morning, but at lunch talked to others who migrated to the appropriate seating area designated by geography (ie south, south east etc). But sadly, because there were so many of us, and we weren't really pushed to stay in one area and talk to the same people, I spent most of the day feeling a tad isolated, and didn't bond with anyone the way I had at all the other, smaller, events I've been to.

Like in Kettering and York, we took seats at tables, and stayed there for most of the sessions, and lunch, which meant we had motivation to get to know our neighbours. Without the anchoring of a consistent place, I was really lucky to talk to anyone, and even luckier that I bumped into the woman I sat next to in the morning, at the train station, which was great.

After lunch, we split into smaller groups to attend short seminars that we had picked in advance. My first was 'Young and Ordained' and two women, a new curate, and a vicar, introduced themselves, told their stories, and asked us to talk to the person next to us about a person in the Bible that we related to.
My notes from this first half:
- hard to leave settled life - calling is not static, God 'sends'
- ordination is not peak of calling
- I related to Peter; the start and end of his calling by Jesus 'Follow me' and 'Do you love me?' - that's what Jesus is saying to me too
- but what can I, and only I, do in answer?

Then they talked about the challenges and joys of ordination.
Challenges
- 'Wisdom beyond your years' - expectation that clergy know what to say. Not necessarily 'the right quote', 'the right psalm' - no formula. God gives us words, just be yourself.
- 'Making and maintaining friendships' - friends spread out as you move around, especially young people move more. Be intentional - use holiday, make effort to go and to host. Who is important to make time to see?
- 'People taking you seriously' - not as bad as you might expect. Blagging it so people feel calm and reassured. People expect to see a representative of God. God equips.
- 'What people expect of the Vicar' - afraid to tell vicar that they [the vicar] are wrong as the priest should know. Can be asked about ethical and moral decisions.
- 'Being true to yourself' - look like self in dog collar. At first very aware of the collar. Feel judged. Alright to have friends in the parish. Rise to the challenge and adapt. Blurred lines especially for ordained with big personalities [!!] in different situations. Still forming in 20s/30s, getting to know yourself now in a public space.

Joys
- meet lots of different people
- feel right place, time and doing. Not what people expect lead to opening conversations.

Straight into the next seminar, it was really great to have sessions on other callings that parochial ministry, but uniquely in my experience led by actual practitioners of those other callings. I listened to three chaplains talk about school, prison and university chaplaincy.
Notes:
- spontaneous, holy spirit-led ministry
- broad, in every sector
- "religious/spiritual care in an organisation"
- finding God at work
- can volunteer to get experience, go through vicar or DDO
- multi-faith model, for the world
- creative, opportunities
- round peg, square hole in parochial ministry
- God also calls to stop
- drop in income doesn't matter if happy in position
- not imagine self in parish
- [thought to self, could there be an LGBT chaplain, rather than a place chaplain?]
- chaplains are on the edge
- prison - intense and emotionally demanding
   - large capacity to love, love those otehrs would find difficult, and can't loveselves
   - gift of love to loveless place, and bring hope that anyone's broken life can have meaning
   - structured expectations - visit new prisoners within 24hrs, visit segregated, visit hospital
   - paid by prison service, but critical friend eg on policy
- uni - students have less baggage
   - Christian community
   - wider community - all faiths and none, generous
   - element of mission but not priority
   - religious literacy - prepare students for a world that is 85% people of faith
- 'friar' in community [I like this image]
- "be you, there"
- school - welcome and hospitality, mental health
- resources for worship
- put on services for organisation
- "be a good guest"
- not of the organisation whilst in it
- talk to anyone, full access
- earn trust and show integrity
- lovely, a privilege
- transience, let people go
- listening

Bumped into a familiar face from CPAS!

More tea and coffee, then a final session for a panel Q&A.
Notes:
- have to be recommended by vicar
- know where you could engage the debates, and where you can't
- trust each other to be under scripture and under God, and walk together in prayer
- mental health difficult in church context
- at first, revisit feelings of incompetency
- it will cost for family
- look at all college options - not straightforward - what experience do you want, needs in academic theology, time, community, tradition, somewhere you can come alive
- official discernment process comes under Equality Act
- call is complicated - follow and obey but also life does happen and can change course - God works through strange ways
- husbands not so hot on clergy spouse support as wives - careful of boundaries with your spouse - are they called to be part of ministry
- take ordination vows seriously eg obedience - can be part of the Church's own discernment - Issue of Human Sexuality "content to live within these guidelines" - have to accept to be put forward for ordination
- BAP - vulnerability of being 100% convinced whilst also knowing that you're coming into the possibility of being told you're wrong

After one more cup of tea, we have a lovely Eucharist, and as I said, I had a lovely chat with one of the other attendees at the train station, just after I filmed the video.

Vocations Sunday

My vocation has been a varied and wonderful thing. It started as a vocation to stage management, which led to taking a vocational degree, but that vocation was part of a larger one, the sense of which I've had slowly but steadily growing since the first time I read the stories in my children's illustrated Bibles.

It led me to explore religion in my studies, it gave me the inspiration to start wearing a cross on a chain; my vocation pointed me in the direction of reading the Bible, it pushed me in the direction of Church, then plonked me without much subtlety in a particular church; my vocation pointed me at confirmation, it found voice in choral music; then my vocation kicked me back in the head and I thought "I should do this now."

As you know if you follow this blog, 'this' was start the process of discerning what my long-term vocation is. My stage management has provided opportunity and tools for personal growth, slowly forming the clay into a basic person shape, and now I am turning to the Church to refine and detail what that shape will look like, to be put into the world and formed into the person God is calling me to be.

I feel I am called to facilitate and inspire God's people to worship and to love. The path ahead of me is concealed, all I am doing is following the directions I am pointed in, but my understanding has been and continues to be that somewhere along the journey, I will be ordained. Why do I want to be a priest? It seems inescapable, inevitable, and wholly desirable.

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On Twitter follow @CofECalling and search #VocationsSunday to hear more.

Meeting the military chaplain

On March 11th 2016 I had my long awaited chat with a military chaplain. Early as it is in my process, I have a leaning towards chaplaincy; I have been looking at the various options, and out of the big ones (hospital, prison, university, military) for an unknown reason military has pinged on my radar.

I expressed this to my rector back in the mists of time (November) when we had a few meetings about my calling, and she happened to be working on a study guide to a memoir written by a priest who she had met at a conference, who was a military chaplain. So she e-introduced me to her, and I set up a meeting. This was back in January, and we met in March because she lives way out West and only comes to London occasionally.

It was a really nice conversation over a cup of tea. I told her my story of faith and calling (see the first handful of posts on this blog) and she told me about her calling, and then about chaplaincy. A lot of what she said sounded great and really like something I could do and enjoy, and she affirmed a lot of what I said in return.

She was encouraging and said I could email her any time, and she told me a lot about military chaplaincy that I didn't know. I'm trying to keep an open mind and really look at chaplaincy as a whole at this early stage, but nothing she said really put me off. Luckily I probably have at least nine years until I have to start contemplating chaplaincy and job prospects more seriously.

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As weird, embarrassing, and scary as telling people about my calling is (especially clergy) it is by far one of the most productive exercises that helps me understand myself better, gain new insights, and use their feedback and perspective in my own understanding of what God is asking me to do, and how to go about it. It also makes it a lot more personal, less abstract, and is very encouraging, I suppose because it becomes that little bit more tangible, more realistic. It is also always a great relief when no one laughs and tells me the thought of me as a priest is ridiculous.

It's most exciting (and least embarrassing) when the specific purpose of the discussion is specifically for me and my calling. It's hard not to feel egotistical when talking about it in more casual, social conversation. I've stopped talking about it with some people in my life, just because I feel bad for going on about it.

That's one of the many reasons I'm looking forward to being referred to a member of the diocese vocations team; their role is to help me, so I won't feel bad about focusing on my calling when talking to them. I also got another reminder today that I should really get a spiritual director - it's on my to do list, and if I remember, I plan to ask for recommendations from the ADO or whoever I talk to.

Oh, and happy Easter!

Video: Step Forward 2016

Step Forward is the Church of England's big annual conference day for people aged 18-30 considering ordination. It was held this year on March 12th (last Saturday as I write) at Bishopthorpe Palace outside York. The Archbishop of York was supposed to attend but was called away.

Entrance hall

The programme looked like this:

10:30 Registration and Refreshments
11.00 Opening Worship – Preacher: the Rt. Revd. Alison White, Bishop of Hull
11:30 “Calling”
12:15 “Discerning” Break into diocesan groups to meet Diocesan Directors of Ordinands (DDOs) and hear about discernment process.
13:00 Lunch
13:45 “Forming” A chance to hear what training is like (with Mark Tanner, Warden of Cranmer Hall, Durham and Father Peter Allen, College of the Resurrection, Mirfield, West Yorkshire.
14:30 “Serving” Stories from a variety of people serving as ordained ministers in very diverse settings.
15:30 “Worshipping” Closing worship including sermon, and opportunity to receive prayer, laying on of hands and anointing.
16:00 Tea and Depart

"Calling" was spent in partners doing some exercises to explore/describe our calling. We filled in a worksheet with 'stepping stones'  to lay out the major steps on our faith journey up to now. Mine looked like this:

• Part One (age 0-13) Children's Bible - Christingles - The Lord's Prayer - Mrs Currie - Do I believe this?
• Part Two (age 14-19) I want to wear a cross - You should own a Bible - St Michael le Belfry - I'm going to church tomorrow
• Part Three (age 19-23) I'm home - I want to get confirmed - Singing with God - I'm going to end up being a priest - Psalm 143:8 - I think I'm going to be a chaplain

(details in my blog posts first, second, third and fourth).

The steps in bold are the ones I think are the biggest turning points, and what I originally put in the five stones on the sheet before drawing in a million other ones to fit the other points of the journey. Then we did a classic discernment exercise called SHAPE - CPAS have a great online tool to do this exercise here. I've done this in the past, but as the leader pointed out, it's good to go over and see if anything new pops up. Mine looked like:

Spiritual gifts - Mercy and forgiveness, Faith, Hospitality

Heart - Doing right; Understanding and creating understanding; Storytelling

Abilities - Communication, Organisation, Energy

Personality - Confident, Generous, Focus, Love, Cheer, Honesty, Passion

Experience - Stage management; Sixth Form graduation Student of the Year; Different churches in Oz/NZ

Next we looked through God calling in scripture, and I connected with three - Jeremiah 1:4-9 "I am too young"; Peter in John 21:15-19 "Do you love me?"; and Paul in Acts 9:1-22 because he was blinded by his call (obviously I have only been metaphorically blinded).

Window in the main conference room

"Discerning" was great, mostly because I haven't met a DDO yet, and hearing the process from their perspective was really interesting, plus it was a lot more comfortable grilling them knowing they weren't your own DDO.

After lunch was "Forming", which was definitely my favourite part. Introducing themselves as a 'double act', the heads of the two theological colleges gave two very inspiring talks, not about grades, essays and course structure, but about the nature of the formation that goes alongside the academia, the spiritual and personal development that, at a more fundamental level, makes a priest a priest. Notes I made during this bit were:

• hold the presence of Christ in the church and in the world
• non-negotiable icons of Christ
• burden of non-stop priesthood
• learn who I am, who God is, and to be attentive
• Both in the world and in God's world
• Become the person I didn't think I could be, incl. a theologian, and a person who can pray
• Imperfections can lead to positive surprises
• Live from within my heart

Gives me goosebumps just reading it back.

Lastly was "Serving", the stories of four priests is different circumstances about their work. It wasn't the most diverse group - a catholic, male, village curate; a young, female, rural curate; a female, village vicar; and a male urban vicar - but I supposed it's always interesting hearing different stories.

Another note that I don't remember where it came from says simply "There is a cost to following the love of Christ." I think it might have been the urban vicar or the female, village vicar.

Two to-do things I got out of the day were arranging some chaplaincy 'placements' or whatever experience I can get, and be a calmer person, which will take more time and effort than the former task!

Overall it was a really lovely day with really interesting, inspiring and lovely people. I got to talk with Bishop Alison over lunch, and empathise with other delegates over the terrible state of online vocation resources, or at least the difficulty in finding them. They also gave out contact details of DDOs so I now know who the London DDO is and who the Two Cities Area Director of Ordinands is, who I presume will be involved in my case, when it finally gets that far.

I had dinner at the pub with these two lovely delegates

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On that point, the rector said last Friday we could set up a meeting, so that'll hopefully happen after Easter next week. I've put up the quick vlog I did about meeting with the uni chaplain today - as I said in that, I'm meeting another uni chaplain, and a uni college/police chaplain next week, and hoping to meet with a prison chaplain as well, though that's not bearing fruit as yet. They're being very nice and helpful, I've only contacted them this week and already filling the diary. I'm going to shadow the guy I talked to today for a day in April!

Next week will be great, being Holy Week. Sadly because I'm not living in London, I won't be going to the daily reflections, but I'll go to Maundy Thursday, and the Three Hours Good Friday which is always one of my favouites. I don't know when I'll get into London on Easter Saturday; I normally go to the St Paul's Cathedral service but that might be a pipe dream. I'll at least end up at church for Compline and the over night vigil; there'll be a dawn service (which is also one of my favourite), then Mum and Dad are bringing American guests to Easter Sunday, and some of us 'youth' going to the pub in the evening for the young people's monthly group, because sod organising a session at the end of all that. I'll sing at all the services, including the audience-participation-flashmob Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah, which is always fun! Including trumpet, obvs.

I'll stop rambling now. Future blogposts plan is I'll write something about my meeting with the military chaplain separately, and finally get round to answering the questions that came out of the CPAS conference day.

Video: LifeCall - a CPAS day conference on Young Vocations

NOTES FROM THE DAY

• It is fundamental to call others to God.
• All disciples are called to serve God; secondary calling is what I'm called to in particular. And my calling is not 'ordained ministry', it's more specific than that
• college as an ordinand - formation and academia. Discern with fellow ordinands
• show potential for growth and development
• encourage others and nurture their gifts
• the ministry of an ordained priest is to focus, enable, equip and release others
• "Being at home in God"
• setting boundaries that are unnatural to an extrovert
• the complexity of the CofE is in its diverse experiences
• one foot in the world is important
• Sacrifices of the ordained - strained/unsure/complicated boundaries, not being able to switch off, loneliness, others' perception, not being able to put down roots
• the theological understanding 'ordination' is debated and contested. It's a moment of consecration, that can be viewed on a wide spectrum from sacramental to just authorisation for a function. It is at a base level an affirmation by the church
• there could be opportunity to do work experience in a chaplaincy
• military chaplaincy is a niche calling and so should be explored
• my deeper understanding of myself can summed in
• morality
• supporting passions
• understanding and providing tools to help others understand

TO DO

• ask others what my spiritual gifts are

Art at Christ the King, Kettering.
"Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did." 1 John 2:6

QUESTIONS FOR ME TO ANSWER (in another blog post)

• Am I willing to submit to God's will if it's not ordination?
• What is my leadership style?
• What is my heart's desire?
• What are my motivations?
• How has God used me already?
• What is the way God calls me?
• OPPORTUNITY right step at right time, with a feeling to back it up
• What is the Gospel to me?
• How do I know when it is God talking?
• What is the church here for?

Emma from CPAS, me, and Jenny the Cranmer ordinand. Great gals!

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

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

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

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

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

Piggy in the middle AKA the SM department

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

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

A little bit of blasphemy...

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

It comes down to Facilitating, Collaborating, and Communicating.

At least on the outside...

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

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

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

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






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

Exploring my doubts

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

Faith is not always blind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have no issues with my human sexuality

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

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

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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.

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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.