About a week ago I was asked to be the Master of Ceremonies for a friend's ordination to the transitional diaconate. It was the last step on her journey towards priesthood in the Celtic Christian Church, an independent Catholic Church. I agreed without hesitation because I remembered the great times we had shared at Saint Leo University in the graduate theology program. Truth be told I had never been to an ordination so this would be a learning experience for me as much as it would be her and most of the people participating.
The more I began to think about the ceremony the more I realized that it was kind of like a preview of my own ordination to the diaconate (hopefully). I wanted to use this opportunity to reflect not only on my own experiences in the Episcopal Church but on how other Christian traditions approached this sacred ministry. What I learned was that I felt truly anchored in my own tradition and that even though people had told me time and again that ordination was the beginning of the journey and not the end I had seen that maxim come true before my eyes.
It wasn't the wonderful homily or the scripture readings. Rather, it was coming together of the community of faithful in presenting someone for the responsibility and blessing of ministry that made the most impression upon me. The community itself was invited to come and lay hands on the ordinand and pray for her new ministry, showing support and love for the way in which she was offering herself to God.
When the ordination was completed, I found one phrase staying with me. It was not a phrase that anyone said during the service. Instead it was one that I felt the Holy Spirit had placed upon my heart. It was that God wanted soft and ready clay to mold. He doesn't call completed people or perfect people, or even equipped people. Rather, God calls those people who are willing to change for God, to become the person He has faith they can be. I never want to see myself as a finished project, not as a person and certainly not as an aspiring priest. I am aware that my greatest enemy is apathy.
I pray for my friend in her new ministry as I know that she prays for me in my continued formation. My greatest desire is not to be a priest, it is to do what God wills for my life.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Project Bachelor Party
One thing which I am learning very quickly is that when it comes to your vocation, your call, everyone can and will have an opinion about your choice, what it means and of course you as a person after having made that choice.
This became most evident on a recent trip to Chicago for a good friends bachelor party. Our group was close knit having known each other for at least ten years and as many as twenty years. We were ecstatic for our friend who had found a great girl and who now could have a proper sendoff into married life. From the moment my attendance was discussed the jokes began about a “priest” going to a bachelor party and what it mean for the party as a whole. Would I be hesitant to join in the festivities or would I be wilder than the rest. My Vicar had told me to enjoy myself, having attended numerous stag parties in his day. It wasn't a carte blanche to engage in any risque activity but rather an understanding that there is a way in which one goes about things, recognizing limits and always learning life lessons.
When we arrived and began the activities our group constantly identified me to any girl we met as a priest. I emphasized that this was premature as I would not be stepping near ordination before another year and a half. Either way, I wasn't wearing a collar and certainly was not going to be performing any sacraments at the party. I'll have to admit that I was a little annoyed that this became the identifying punchline for my presence but then I realized a few things:
The first was that these close friends of mine had busted my chops over everything any of us had ever done and this would be no different. The fact that it was the but of jokes meant that they realized that was a real part of my life. The other thing it signaled was that by calling me that they saw this as my chosen vocation, someone I could really be. Of course, I shouldn't be seeking heaping mounds of validation for my vocation but seeing that these close friends who had been with me through tragedy and triumph saw me as a man of God touched me in a way I cannot describe.
The singular problem I faced with this was one that I felt they could not entirely understand. Even though they were my close friends with whom I had shared everything this vocation my own, something that no one else could live for me. So as we ran through several bars, collected outrageous requests for our friends bachelor party shirt, and identified beautiful women I felt awkward because that part of me seeking a vocation felt at odds with what I was doing. Of course there are rationalizations, reasonings, and excuses that provide the shade under which we go about our normal behavior claiming that we are conscious of God's presence while we conduct ourselves in a questionable way. But in the end it all serves to make us look at the bigger picture. Through it all we remained faithful to our relationships, our vows, and gave thanks for the communion we had shared in our years as friends.
In looking back at this trip I see that there just as many ways one's vocation and Christian life as there are rays of sunshine painting the earth. Do we remain strict and steadfast in our faith, excluding ourselves from friends and family because of where they go? Or do we serve as a good example of brotherhood and the ability to understand where all people come from in their experiences? Do we judge ourselves or do we humble ourselves and see that we are judged by our actions by the almighty? Do we see the faithfulness of our hearts to a loving and forgiving God or do we fear a God who forgives nothing no matter how small the offense? The answer is complicated but you can see how I feel through the way in which I have phrased the questions. I told our impending groom that this wasn't just his last hurrah but my own as well. I said this tongue in cheek but in reality I learned that the world which we had visited, the world of temptation and libation was not a world in which one resided, and after a certain age and domestic dedication, it was not a world we visited either. For myself, I find that I no longer wish to visit that place. The one lesson I have brought with me into my discernment to the priesthood, and a lesson that I continually hone is that the people we meet, no matter the shape, accent, or personality is human; a fragile human being created in God's image. With that firmly in my place, I can look back at the people I met, the conversations I had and see what lies underneath. It is the stuff of the soul and it is what I live for.
I return now to my lovely wife and beautiful children, thankful for what I have and the life I am living. I am thankful that my friend is headed in that direction. I am thankful for the trials he will face with his future wife that will only serve to bring them closer. I see the trials that I have faced with my wife and find them to be the glue that binds us. The bonds of love found there are not easily forgotten and it is those memories that inspire us to return to our families with earnest.
This became most evident on a recent trip to Chicago for a good friends bachelor party. Our group was close knit having known each other for at least ten years and as many as twenty years. We were ecstatic for our friend who had found a great girl and who now could have a proper sendoff into married life. From the moment my attendance was discussed the jokes began about a “priest” going to a bachelor party and what it mean for the party as a whole. Would I be hesitant to join in the festivities or would I be wilder than the rest. My Vicar had told me to enjoy myself, having attended numerous stag parties in his day. It wasn't a carte blanche to engage in any risque activity but rather an understanding that there is a way in which one goes about things, recognizing limits and always learning life lessons.
When we arrived and began the activities our group constantly identified me to any girl we met as a priest. I emphasized that this was premature as I would not be stepping near ordination before another year and a half. Either way, I wasn't wearing a collar and certainly was not going to be performing any sacraments at the party. I'll have to admit that I was a little annoyed that this became the identifying punchline for my presence but then I realized a few things:
The first was that these close friends of mine had busted my chops over everything any of us had ever done and this would be no different. The fact that it was the but of jokes meant that they realized that was a real part of my life. The other thing it signaled was that by calling me that they saw this as my chosen vocation, someone I could really be. Of course, I shouldn't be seeking heaping mounds of validation for my vocation but seeing that these close friends who had been with me through tragedy and triumph saw me as a man of God touched me in a way I cannot describe.
The singular problem I faced with this was one that I felt they could not entirely understand. Even though they were my close friends with whom I had shared everything this vocation my own, something that no one else could live for me. So as we ran through several bars, collected outrageous requests for our friends bachelor party shirt, and identified beautiful women I felt awkward because that part of me seeking a vocation felt at odds with what I was doing. Of course there are rationalizations, reasonings, and excuses that provide the shade under which we go about our normal behavior claiming that we are conscious of God's presence while we conduct ourselves in a questionable way. But in the end it all serves to make us look at the bigger picture. Through it all we remained faithful to our relationships, our vows, and gave thanks for the communion we had shared in our years as friends.
In looking back at this trip I see that there just as many ways one's vocation and Christian life as there are rays of sunshine painting the earth. Do we remain strict and steadfast in our faith, excluding ourselves from friends and family because of where they go? Or do we serve as a good example of brotherhood and the ability to understand where all people come from in their experiences? Do we judge ourselves or do we humble ourselves and see that we are judged by our actions by the almighty? Do we see the faithfulness of our hearts to a loving and forgiving God or do we fear a God who forgives nothing no matter how small the offense? The answer is complicated but you can see how I feel through the way in which I have phrased the questions. I told our impending groom that this wasn't just his last hurrah but my own as well. I said this tongue in cheek but in reality I learned that the world which we had visited, the world of temptation and libation was not a world in which one resided, and after a certain age and domestic dedication, it was not a world we visited either. For myself, I find that I no longer wish to visit that place. The one lesson I have brought with me into my discernment to the priesthood, and a lesson that I continually hone is that the people we meet, no matter the shape, accent, or personality is human; a fragile human being created in God's image. With that firmly in my place, I can look back at the people I met, the conversations I had and see what lies underneath. It is the stuff of the soul and it is what I live for.
I return now to my lovely wife and beautiful children, thankful for what I have and the life I am living. I am thankful that my friend is headed in that direction. I am thankful for the trials he will face with his future wife that will only serve to bring them closer. I see the trials that I have faced with my wife and find them to be the glue that binds us. The bonds of love found there are not easily forgotten and it is those memories that inspire us to return to our families with earnest.
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