The Ministry of the Big Toe (continued)

I shouldn’t have been so surprised when I was ordained deacon whilst in the midst of meningitis; the bible I was handed by the Bishop had the normal label in the front of it stating that it was presented to me, etc, but it was attached to the front cover with a post-stik scribbled with the immortal words, ‘to be stuck in’.  To be stuck in.  How much is this a definition of the deaconate in the Church of England – not yet Priests; not yet fully fledged; not yet real; to be stuck in: and how much is it also a definition of the training curacy as a whole?  Some of the clergy and laity certainly share this view – as one priest remarked about me to a parishioner, “You can ignore him;” and whilst this was said in some jest, it still stung.  Yet ‘to be stuck in’ is probably something that can be post­stik’d to the church as a whole, and priests, and especially deacons and priests in their curacy, epitomise this – that we are all being formed and moulded by the Holy Spirit.  We are all ‘to be stuck in’.

After ten years of teaching, I know I know nothing; after two years at Cambridge I know I understand nothing; after eight months as a deacon I know I can do nothing.  I’m hoping this is the beginning of wisdom.  All I can know is the smallest window into the immeasurability of God, and even then through clouded glass.  It’s like the refractions of light I see dancing across the wall opposite the church’s prie-dieu as dawn rises through the old glass during Morning Prayer – beautiful, but nothing like the glory of the sun.  All I can understand is the tiniest inkling of the inestimable love of God and try to join in with the tapestry.

There is something about relaxing into self, into being (getting quite ‘ontological’ now), into finding that you don’t have to fit a certain shaped hole.  The last curate may have been a round peg, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be.  Your incumbent might be a chiliagon, but that doesn’t mean
that you have try to grow into that (although you might hope to).  The Holy Spirit seems to want you to be you, and be you shaped in the church... and this doesn’t change just because you’ve got an odd collar on.  And the Holy Spirit probably knows what shape you are better than you do.  Better to trust.

I visited a gentleman in hospital, aged 102: he mistook me for my incumbent, as all he could see was the black shirt and white collar.  Without his teeth, he struggled to tell me of his life and how all he wanted now was to go ‘home’; ‘I know where I’m going, I just want to get there now, I just need to die’.  His body slowly shrinking into death, his vitality and strength that had so blessed his life were, near his ending, his problems as his body refused to shut down week after week, month after month.  Whilst I held his hands and prayed with him, I wasn’t myself to him: ‘I’ was the vicar he had known and trusted; ‘me’ was put to one side whilst ‘I’ was someone else.

Do these two ideas contradict each other?  Are they not mutually exclusive?  How can one be oneself and be someone else at the same time?  Or am I suggesting that I should be, as one of my ancestors was described, ‘more willow than oak’ – all things to all, bending one way and then the other?  There has to be flexibility, but I’m increasingly finding that you have to be authentically yourself, whilst inhabiting something greater.  This sometimes feels like a difficult burden and sometimes like an immense privilege – and both are no doubt true.

I’m finding a lot of these tensions, and I’m enjoying reflecting on them; thus I started this reflection with rambles through the glass-half-empty and the glass-still-filling.  Holding these tensions are important, not letting either side tip the balance.  We have to be comforters and afflicters, assurers and doubters, and optimists and realists.  Whilst I find the church utterly ridiculous, I also find it utterly serious.  Whilst it continually frustrates me, it also brings such joy.

I find myself turning to poetry and psalm to aid my understanding, first with words by Micheal O’Siadhail:

Angel

A stumbling over stones of ancient agonies.
The self-same questions as once in Job’s cry.

Even the same answers.  How it’s beyond us.
A threshold.  Hast thou with him spread out the sky?

Departures.  Successions.  A zillionth in a hugeness.
My words are frivolous.  How can I try to reply?

Or because you’ve loved, you’re trusting to surprise.
One final show of confidence in Madam Jazz.

Sacrifice.  The old song of the bruised servant.
Then, when the angel comes, to want to say yes.

Stumbling over the stones of ancient agonies,
I begin this long apprenticeship of assent.

                              From Our Double Time (1998), Bloodaxe

David Ford says of Micheal’s work, “there is a wrestling for meaning, with no easy solutions – both the form and the content are hard-won”.  I think this is probably true for the ordained ministry.  The same questions and answers, with slightly different nuances, different phrasings in each generation.  Authority and power versus wisdom and servanthood.  Being oneself versus being the collar.

‘How can I try to reply?’ and ‘How shall I sing that majesty?’ are questions that weigh in the heart every time I try to write a sermon and illuminate in words and poetry and prose that glimpse through the window of the rising dawn.  I can do nothing: let dust in dust and silence lie.

‘Sacrifice’ and ‘to want to say yes’ as we try to live out the first disciple’s – Mary’s – call: Lord treasure up my mite.  And probably Micheal’s last line most poignant: ‘Stumbling... I begin this long apprenticeship of assent.’

Psalm 131: Domine, non est

Lord, I am not high-minded: I have no proud looks.

I do not exercise myself in great matters: which are too high for me.

But I refrain my soul, and keep it low, like as a child that is weaned from his mother: yea, my soul is even as a weaned child.

O Israel, trust in the Lord: from this time forth for evermore.

If Micheal O’Siadhail’s ‘Angel’ phrases my thoughts, psalm 131 echoes my prayers.  My eyes are not raised up too high: the words and concepts expressed here first became important to me – or at least I realised their importance – at a Greenbelt service presided over by the Rev’d Maggie Dawn.  She had prepared a traditional Mass, but with modern music and chants, and lava lamps instead of candles.  But this is slightly beside the point.  Set to modern chords, this psalm came alive.  Since then it has been a source of inner quiet in my life – a passage that I could turn to in times of disquiet.  Whilst preparing for BAP, these words formed part of my daily routine and became a backbone of prayer.  Still today I turn to them.  They offer a way of trust in God, of letting go of arrogance and pride, of finding that inner peace that the Holy Spirit provides.  They help me pray, ‘Thy will be done’, especially at times when I might otherwise feel disappointed or let down.  They provide me with hope, that sure and certain hope, that God knows the way and God knows the plan.

The Ministry of the Big Toe

I first wrote this last year before I was ordained Priest as part of my 'Deacon's Essay' that was sent to my Bishop, +Paul Hertford. It's probably a good place to start with this blog.

And the ram of ordination was slaughtered.
Moses took some of its blood and put it on the lobe of Aaron’s right ear and
on the thumb of his right hand and on the big toe of his right foot.
Leviticus 8:23

 With this ‘big toe’, Father James cracked and hiccupped a laugh; Fathers Simon and Joseph were not far behind as the solemn team Evening Prayer broke to let the Holy Spirit in.

Church is so ridiculous most of the time that it is a                                  Church is so full of life, in all its glories,

wonder that anyone would want to be part of it.                                 so full of welcome and friendship that I don’t

I increasingly wonder, as I talk to people in the pub or                               know how people can not be part of it.

when I’m out walking the dog, what stops people                              When I talk to people whilst out walking the

from getting to know the loving God who reached out to me                               dog or drinking a pint in the pub,

and called me to this life. Our scripture – that which                                     it is obvious that they are searching

some inaccurately call the Word of God – contains verses                             for something greater and need the

and chapters that are completely                             guidance the people of the church – God’s priestly people –

out of tune with ‘modern’ society: the lighter ones, like                                   can offer in the way they try to live.

the bloody big toe, make us laugh; but                              Take the laughter that broke into Evening Song: many

others make us cringe when we read or hear them                              think that church is purely a solemn affair,

(i.e. ‘Happy shall they be who take your little ones and                         yet there have been numerous occasions

dash them against the rock!’ Psalm 137:9).                           In my first year of ministry as a deacon, and before,

This year we celebrate the 400th anniversary of the                              when God has given us joy over sorrow or

King James (Authorised) translation, but I                                 frustration; and this extends to how we approach

ponder whether the ‘accessibility’ of the written word                               scripture, reading it with the rose-tinted

has decreased the accessibility of the Word. Don’t                            spectacles that is the love of God, enjoying

get me wrong, now: I’m not harkening back to having church in                            the anachronisms for what they

Latin or Greek; but there is something about                                are, and letting the Word of God speak through

communicating the gospel                                them. And if the ‘unchurched’ and ‘dechurched’ of our generation

that we miss when we have scripture more at                                know little or nothing of scripture – and maybe

hand than the Word. ‘A little knowledge is                                  confused about the little they do know, then this

a dangerous thing’, and a lot of people, a lot of                              is a great opportunity for us to lead them to an

the ‘unchurched’ know a little about the                            understanding that is in tune with both their experience

gospel – but the little they know is either confusing or                             of God and their modern or post-modern

childish or contradictory. Likewise the most publicised                              mind-sets. Even our public arguments

‘teachings’ of the church that they know                           about women bishops and gay clergy are opportunities

so often seem out of touch and at                              for they raise debate in the public space; they demonstrate

odds with both the sensibilities                               that the church is not a monolith; they illuminate areas of our

of the public and the love that they                          society where difference still causes tension and oppression,

encounter from God – a love they so often fail                                  where women are still paid as second-class 

to recognise. And then there’s what                                          citizens and gay men and women are denied the

we get up to in church: from the mysterious                                opportunities that others take for granted. And if

actions of the high church with bells                                 we seem like squabbling teenagers while having these

and smells, to the happy clappy,                         debates, then this is because we are reflecting our society that

wave-your-arms-in-the-air-like-you-just-don’t-care bunch,                                is still very childish when set before

to the BCP mumblers, etc, etc.;                         Jesus. Perhaps the church in all its diversity and community, all

each in their own way inaccessible unless you’re                          its arguments and welcomes can offer society

already in the know, like                            the better Way afterall; perhaps in our childishness, we are still being

it’s some secret society.                                     formed into Ambassadors for the Kingdom of God, that society

                                                                    where the love of God is continuously breaking forth like the dawn.