Well hello again,
I have got rather
accustomed to the sarcastic question that sporadically pops up, what
do Vicar’s do on days other than Sundays? Ha ha, chuckle, chuckle,
titter, titter, snigger, snigger, well ‘absolutely nothing’ I
say.
I have been ordained just
short of twelve months and the suggestion that I only work one day a
week and just 52 days a year may sound all rather humorous and
desirable but the reality is far from this silly sardonic notion. And
whilst I don’t do a regular 9-5 shift or have key performance
indicators to gauge my endeavors I do think I work rather hard in the
name of Christ.
With ordination to the
Priesthood fast approaching this blog affords me a little time to
reflect upon a quite whirlwind year as a Deacon in the Church of
England and as an Assistant Curate at St Matthew’s in Burnley,
Lancashire.
The most recent thing
I have done as an ordained minister was bury a still born baby, the
first significant thing I did as an ordained minister was walk around
Tesco in my dog collar to see how people responded to a newly
ordained man of the cloth. On reflection, and maybe unsurprisingly
the funeral had a much bigger impact on me than the supermarket experience. Nobody
gave a stuff about me wandering through the cold meat section of Tesco,
no one batted an eyelid as I looked and prodded the doughnuts in the
reduced counter and I left quickly and rather underwhelmed that
nobody wanted to engage with a new member of the clergy contingent.
The funeral for the baby
was private, full of love, deeply moving and distinctly overwhelming
where words were possibly futile, religion was somewhat insignificant
and yet somehow people appreciated my endeavors which if anything
left me even more mystified by what I had just experienced. No
training college or readers manual, no words or Bible stuff did the
trick. Nothing can really measure up or offer much when doing such
things, but I came away drained yet relieved and somehow I thanked
God for what I had just accomplished
I help out a community
centre every week I don’t talk about God or scripture but I always
look how Anglo Catholic clergy should look, a huge dose of black
cotton linen and a white thing that goes round my neck. A blind man
at the club doesn’t call me Alex he calls me Parson and it was only
by googling the word Parson did I understand what a Parson did. I’m
not sure my daily habits or work ethic befit such a title but I
accept it with grace as part and parcel of being ordained. He seems
to like me !
Another ‘lady’ who
frequents the community center holds me in slightly lesser esteem and
I have come to accept that as a clergyman I hold no weight or
authority whatsoever in her eyes. However I do come in handy as an
occasional Taxi driver who can run her to and fro at a time that is
exclusively convenient to herself whilst never being offered a
gesture towards running costs. I of course don’t mind helping her
out and rather enjoy her insults or humour as she describes it, and
her constant insistence that I should wear something a bit more
cheery will always fall on deaf ears.
I have come to accept that
academia is for clever people who can make very complicated subjects
appear even more complicated than they already are and I am yet to
find a tutor who agrees with my own self appraisal that all my
theological essays are quite outstanding and deeply thought
provoking. On the contrary most tutors seem quite concerned at my
lack of reading, referencing and use of English 'gramma' but somehow by
the skin of my teeth I stumble through each module euphorically
satisfied that at least I didn’t fail. After being frequently
reminded about personality types, and things like Myers Briggs I have
come to accept that it is not me but my personality that is at fault
and if only I could be slightly more introverted and less attracted
to social media then I would undoubtedly be climbing the greasy
steeple to things far, far great than Parish ministry!!
I do pray rather a lot for
a clergyman! I am never too far away from my next prayer sometimes
deeply engaged in asking God to help, support, feed, sustain, heal
etc. Other times I feel cut adrift from the real world, devoid of
words, struggling and mispronouncing long verses in the Bible,
lighting the wrong candles, or forgetting to kneel at the appropriate
moment and generally being a second or two behind where I need to be.
I do have a ‘mistake’ kind of culture in my being but on
reflection I have never cocked up deliberately. I have always tried
my best with 100% commitment and dedication as someone who if fast
approaching the end of my Diaconate year.
I go and visit a person
who has a terminal illness, the person thanks me for coming and says nice
things, I find the visit just fine but it’s afterwards when I pull open
the door to on the Chevrolet Aveo and sit in silence for a moment.
Why has that person just thanked me? I have just had the privilege of
taking communion to the patient and listen to a pragmatic approach to an
illness that will send the person to heaven sooner than they would have liked.
Constant pain and suffering and yet this special individual still
manages to find the time to ask how I am and what I have been up to.
I wish I could be as good a human being as this individual is!
I don’t think, in fact I
am certain I could never be a school teacher as my Monday morning
visits to our primary school as invariably moments of entertainment
or observation for my comedic tendencies. The children make me smile,
even when they are being a little unruly and not sitting or facing in
the right direction. It is not my responsibility to control 30, four or
five year olds and that’s probably a good thing but I look on with
admiration and respect as teacher brings it all together like a
master conductor at The Last Night of the Proms. My responsibility is
to listen to them read to me, which I do before conversation
invariably turns to Spiderman or Batman, Barbie or Dollies. I often
forget my responsibility and to be honest I like to engage with the
idle chitter chatter of an infant child much more than books with
small words and big letters. I love going to school!
I remember being ordained
last year; I invited every person I think I ever knew. Outside of
marriage and parenthood this was the biggest thing ever to happen to
me, I had just got through 3/4 years of theological education, and I
was about to leave a job that had provided nice things for me and my
family for the last fifteen years. I was giving up lots of
‘important’ responsibilities in exchange for having cups of tea
with elderly people, I gave up a healthy salary so I could go and be
a 46 year old man deeply out of his comfort zone. I would longer see
colleagues and friends that sustained me and I’m no longer
alongside people who understood my personality and laughed at my
jokes in all the right places. Now I’m with Christians who I have
lovingly got to know and where in the early months I attempted to
speak the Queens English with a Burnley accent. I lost the security
of employment for the instability of ministry, where people die, and
people hurt, where people grieve and people mourn and where one is
the representative of our Lord Jesus Christ. I try and do this humbly
with humility as I think Jesus would.
I am about to ordained to
the Priesthood, I’m not sure if I deserve this accolade, I not sure
if I’m the real deal or not. Sometimes it’s hard not to consider
I might be the Judas Iscariot of the ordained world, I’m not deeply
theologically sound, I have my doubts from time to time, I day dream
about being a comedian, I laugh far too much and I’m just a bloke
from Burnley.
However if there is one
thing that I do concede to is that I am of God, that for whatever
reason I serve him with a loyalty and a conscience that I am totally
committed to that I hope and pray will stay with me until God calls
me home. I look forward to celebrating Holy Communion among God and
his people; I will celebrate the Eucharistic feast with the pride of
a loving son before his Father. I will give thanks for his impact on
my life, and I will pray he walks this amazing but sometimes lonely
road with me, each amazing step of the way.
Till next time, love and
peace
Alex the Anglican.
