When I am a curate...

This is a post that was first drafted, I don't know, about a year and a half ago, maybe. It's been sitting here, and every so often an idea has occurred to me to think about later, so I've opened this draft up and popped the idea in, creating a list. Now I've started as a curate (though as a lay licensed minister rather than a deacon) so I'll have to stop simply adding things to it and then forgetting about them, and instead post it in the hope and intention that I will start doing them.

I've got three categories here. The first is 'personal', and it is the longest. Now, on a vocations blog, you might think such a list would focus on more religious things than anything else, but I'm here to show you the reality. All the gumpf one encounters on the discernment hamster wheel is very religious, and so is a lot of the training. Sure, this is a good focus, and should be the groundwork that such a process gives candidates. But my experience has had a wider impact on the unreligious parts of my life, and, to be honest, I'm not surprised there is not a lot of attention or guidance to these areas, because of course this is the part that makes every vocation story different.

There is no standard story. I have been incredibly frustrated over the last five years (wait, five years?!) by the vague tone of almost every piece of guidance and advice, as all I wanted was some concrete how-tos and a reassuring roadmap. Sadly, this was never going to happen, and it's only now that I can see it. There is no how-to, there is not a roadmap beyond the vague guidance. Said vague guidance is the only content that it is possible to give to everyone, because ultimately they're not going to have a universal experience. Some will have similar patterns and some will overlap, but many will not.

No two vocation stories are the same, and some are incredibly, wildly different. I mean, just look at me and my brother. We shared a lot in a 16-year window of our stories, then mine went through drama school, lodging in London, working at a church, theological college, and then becoming clergy. His (to give a very inaccurate and brief overview) went through a normal uni degree, moving back home, training to be an MMA fighter, working for a shop, then in an office, becoming a coach as well as a fighter, and then also getting a normal part time job.

You might not believe me, but there are other curates in the Church of England right now whose story has as much in common with mine as my brother's does ie. not a lot. Even if one shares a general vocation to something like 'priesthood', no two vocation stories are the same, and some are incredibly, wildly different.

Anyway, so one of the reasons for the disparity of vocation stories is the personal context. Different backgrounds, life structures, responsibilities, financial situations, personalities, priorities and values lead to a wonderful variety of clergy lives. My life as a clergy person is unique, and that is mostly due to the personal context, not the religious.

Okay, enough waffle, here's my first list. 

Personal

• I would like to create and stick to a running schedule
• It would be wonderful to get some singing lessons
• I am really keen to try to get to know the people who live nearest to me
• I plan to subscribe to newsletters for local events, and cultural opportunities eg theatres
• It would be a good idea to do the DVSA enhanced rider scheme
• I want to sign up to give blood and possibly other donation options eg eggs, bone marrow etc
• I would like to ride my motorcycle to visit friends across the country
• I want to occasionally visit my grandparents
• I want to subscribe to a daily newspaper and the Church Times
• I fancy getting and using a bread maker
• I am very keen to try to be more eco-friendly
• It would be nice to visit other curates I know from Cranmer Hall who are in London

So I've been in my curacy house for just under 4 weeks now. I've already met some neighbours, subscribed to a local newsletter, and digitally to a newspaper, plus gone to see my grandparents. I have also been setting up my new house with eco in mind, so all my cleaning products/equipment are as plastic-free as possible. I did plan to start running before starting at the church, but that hasn't happened, still on the to do list, as are a lot of things. 

The CofE have got a good thing right in some of their training, because in the last five years (seriously, five years!) I have imbibed a good sense of looking after oneself as a priority within the context of ministry. These things are on this list because they will hopefully help build a life where I am able to minister to the best of my ability, and lay a foundation for a full life that won't lead to burn out. The groundwork is important, and it continues from college into this phase.

The next two sections are the religious stuff, and I have separated out 'spiritual', which overlaps religious and personal, and 'clerical', which are things I want to do specifically because I am clergy.

Now I'm sure those of us in discernment/training/ministry all have a picture in our minds as to the kind of priest we dream of being, and I'm also sure that none of those dreams will ever be real people. We instead will learn over the years what kind of priest we are and will grow into. My sending rector has always said that curacy is the time to build up my 'muscle memory' for the basics of priesthood, and I'm trying to hold to that. Obviously my training vicar has responsibility within that, seeing as he has the experience to know what those basics should be that we want to work on.

This list is not coming from that perspective - I don't need to make a list of the basic priestly things the learn in curacy, for starters because ministry division already have criteria I need to meet to pass IME phase 2! (Initial Ministry Education - phase 1 was training at college) And it is again a slightly vague and unquantifiable thing - there is still a focus on personal formation, but there's also things like liturgical education, and every training incumbent is going to have slightly different priorities on how to use the 3-4 years of curacy to best effect. There is so much that priests do and could do, and not enough time to cover it all, so those priorities lead to a triage of what to cover and what to leave to 'get round to' or just not cover at all.

So this list is none of that. These are things I have seen done, heard about, or thought of for one reason or another over the last few years that I fancy having a go at to see how much they might play a part in the priest I'm going to become.

Clerical

• seek out my local Churches Together
• visit all the cafes, shops, businesses and bars in my parish
• research local initiatives and see if there's anything I can support
• track my hours
• register with the local library
• Maintain links to the army chaplains department
• Attempt to train in Godly Play
• acquaint myself with the key people in my episcopal area and diocesan offices eg funeral directors

I have visited some shops in the parish - I know by name two of the three people who work at the deli down the street, for example; and my long-awaited haircut was achieved at the salon right next door to said deli. But I've got a long way to go. I have printed out an unlabelled map which I hope to fill with my own labels as I explore the parish. I'm lucky that it is in fact only about 0.5miles square in size! But that does add the pressure to get around all of it - no excuses. Churches Together is something to check with my vicar; tracking hours is a tad optimistic I reckon, but I thought I'd give it a go; I have registered with the local library service, so I need to pop down to my nearest one and have a look; I have already had lunch with the senior army chaplain for London; wow, I had forgotten the Godly Play thing, this is why I write things down; and we'll see how the last one goes, considering being in the middle of a pandemic.

Lastly, there are two things that I really hope I can achieve from a spiritual point of view.

Spiritual

• I’ll go on a retreat, where I can access Anglican services, once a year
• set up a 'prayer space' to see if that is helpful to me

The first one is priestly 101, and a habit I have been trying to form over the last few years, so we'll see if I can keep that going; and the second one is going to be interesting, given that I have not got the luxury that some of my contemporaries do of a five bed house with a garage and a garden. I have been very lucky in where I am living, but its smaller square footage does make finding a corner for said prayer space a little bit of a challenge. 

There it is, the list I have been sitting on. Now is the time to activate it and see what sticks. 

As you can see this is not a post reflecting on 'the end of my time as an ordinand'. I may have anticipated doing something like that, but now I've reached this point, typing this in my first week at St John's, it's not the big transition I thought it was going to be.

Going from lay person to ordinand shattered my whole world and I started again. Going from ordinand to curate is continuing to build on top of being an ordinand. I am not starting again, because it is the same project, the next step, rather than a new journey. And I feel ready for it. It may be exhilarating, and make me a little nervous, but becoming a curate is nowhere near as frightening as the feeling of stepping into the void that starting at college was. Let's be fair, I've also grown up three more years since then, so that's a factor too. I'm more confident, I feel a fraction more knowledgable and experienced, and I am eager to learn more and more of what I've started absorbing into who I am and how I honour God with my life. 

I am doing what I have been doing for five years, and wish to do for decades to come - following my calling, living my vocation, discerning God's path for me. I am so lucky, and I will give it my all.

Video: Curacy and Lockdown

Video: Penultimate term as an ordinand

Being a third year ordinand

Some things are common across any ordinand who is in their final year. We are in a weird limbo where curacy conversations have probably started over the summer, and for many, visits, confirmation, a bit of bureaucracy, then an announcement might actually come before Christmas.

So first term is a lot of extra effort arranging the next step, but by the end, it might all be set up, and you've still got two terms to go before actually taking it. It is one of the most common comments about final year, that one is both now and not yet (yes, that's a theological reference, a-thank you) excited about curacy but having to concentrate on dissertation or ILP, assignments, lectures and placements. Plus still dealing with the infantilisation of being a student, accommodation issues, finance juggling, and trying to actually have a life beyond college.

This week I had a curacy visit, and everything else at college has been an extra effort; my motivation has been seriously affected by the future talk, going round the parish, getting to know the team (and I'll reiterate what I wrote last time, no, I can't tell you where it is yet) and all the exciting details that are triggering my imagination. My mind is time-travelling to next summer, my Pinterest is full of furniture I'll never be able to afford, and wait, what further biblical studies essay?

On the horizon I will be ordering an ordination stole, inviting people to the ordination service, buying other vestments and clerical wear, that day that is coming when I will put on a clerical collar for the first time, and eventually organising moving dates. All that will come with more academic deadlines, leavers events and who knows what else will be thrown at us before we can finally get our teeth into this curacy business.

Other things are singular to third years, who are commonly very much a minority, as more people have two years of ordination training at college than three. I have made several comments this term to the effect that being a third year means pendulum-swinging between cynicism and nostalgia, adding to an already complex long-term relationship with the establishment. In getting to know yet another bunch of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed first years, it is hard not to feel some empathy with the ancient of days (oh my, another reference, this time biblical - that'll be the evangelical influence!) using phrases like some old codger in the nursing home - "back in my first year, it was all very different. You don't know how lucky you are!"

This is probably true of most third or further year students across academia, but I think there is something particular to an ordinand - most of us had a life before this, a first degree, a career, friendship circles and established favourite drinking holes, and now we've moved, we're retraining, and we're going to move again; the world-weariness is deeper, with those extra laters, than a 21yo finishing their economics degree is going to have.

Being a third year ordinand means finally feeling confident on placement but not having the collar of authority and invitation that a lot of friends and peers who have already gotten ordained have in their ministry contexts.

It's being incredibly bored at this point of explaining the discernment and training process to people in your life who, let's be honest, have actually heard it fifteen times already, but unlike the people at college, aren't living it, and therefore it slips from their memory.

It's looking at the four walls of your student accommodation and seeing the ghosts of piles of packing boxes, both as a step back in time to arriving at college, and a glimpse into the future of leaving, finally, getting out, and getting on.

It's being determined within all this nonsense to be present, to not make the mistake of some of the two sets of third years you've seen go before you of checking out early. So yes, get to know the shiny new first years; go to college events as if a party in a lecture hall is still incredibly exciting fifth time around; complain about the food (whilst incredibly grateful that you have it, especially with enough experience to know what is worth having and what is worth avoiding); and yes, make stupid theological jokes in general conversation/blogposts because you're still here.

You're still in this confessing college environment. You're still chained to the academic machine that demands words in chunks of 1500, 2500 and eventually 12,000. You're still living your life, every moment, every breath God gives you, and each of these days is of equal length, and ideally of equal value, to any days coming which are the other side of that line in the sand that is ordination. The line in the sand that was going to theological college is a distance memory, disappeared over the horizon behind you, and it seems like such an age since you crossed it that surely this stage is over. But it is not. It is still going, and you are called into this moment, as with every moment, to be blessed, and to be a blessing, whatever that means in this context, right now.

These lines in the sand are useful reference points; we are but only human after all. But they are not set by us, they are not in our control - what we do between them is.

As a third year, I am constantly reminding myself that I do not want to look back at my time at college with a glumness that it was a grind to get through and thank God I'm out of it. No, I want to look back and remember thanking God that I was here, now, with these people and in this place.

I'm trying, and I'm failing, and I'll keep trying. For one more year.