Prayer for Priests

I'm watching the ordinations to the priesthood of the Catholic St. Paul-Minneapolis Archdiocese 2010 and this prayer just happened and I really liked it. It really speaks to my call, too.

“Together with us, may they be faithful stewards of your mysteries, so that your people may be renewed in the waters of rebirth and nourished from your altar; so that sinners may be reconciled and the sick raised up. May they be joined with us, Lord, in imploring your mercy for the people entrusted to their care and for all the world.”

Aside: Oh PostIt notes. What would altar books be without PostIt notes?

Episco-upgrades: Think bigger on pastoral care

Episco-upgrades: Think bigger on pastoral care:

"In a healthy congregation, the lay people engage in the ministries to which lay people are called. The priest engages in ministries appropriate for priests. Of course, the details will vary by church size (family, pastoral, program, etc.), but the point generally remains. When clergy do the work of lay people, the community is deprived of some of its vitality. And, of course, when clergy abrogate some of their responsibilities, boundaries are blurred.

While it is true that many people are attracted (and even called) to priestly ministry by the desire to offer pastoral care, this ought not to be the primary task of a priest. Priests should offer pastoral care, to be sure. But in congregational life, they are also called to offer leadership in other ways. They ought to use the gifts which have been given only to them (sacramental ministry especially), while sharing their ministries with many others."

(Via Seven whole days.)

The Story of How I Became a Postulant

I started this entry on 5 November 2008 and left it as a draft for some reason. I guess I just forgot that I'd started it and forgot to finish it. Now I'll post it, though, and I hope y'all are as amused as I am recollecting the ending.

See, wha'ha'happe was this one time I had drove to Pensacola. I had drove after leading a Bible study and then I had got to my aunt's house. She had tried to stay up to wait for me but she couldn't. But my cousin Matthew was up because he had just got home. We had talked for a few minutes and then I had went to bed. I had set my alarm for 8:00, but I wasn't sure that I'd even be able to sleep that long. I woke up at 8:00.

When I had got up all my family had gone but my cousin Seth. He stay with my aunt and uncle but he ain't their kid. He go to school in Pensacola. When I had finished showering and getting ready we had watched Patch Adams together while we had talked about school. We had had to leave at the same time. He had went to classes and I had to go to the bishop's office for my meeting about being a postulant. My directions wasn't too good, so I had got off the interstate and went the wrong direction. It didn't feel right, though, so I had called the office and talked to my friend Sally. She work there and we had went to Cursillo together. I had just passed Sammy's, and she had gave me good directions.

Sorry, I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired.

When I got to the diocesan office I had a seat and then Mary Poss took me to the kitchen where I had a banana and a Diet Coke (Diet Coke, Diet Coke). I waited until I was called in. The bishop was so nice. He asked if my tie was okay. He told me to breathe. Then he told me to go in and have a seat. I did. I met the members of the Commission on Ministry. The bishop started by complimenting my tie and asking me, if he could without being to outrageous, show the commission my socks. They were tan with brown vertical stripes and red horizontal stripes. Where they intersected they made orange squares. They're a pair of my fun socks. I have six now.

So we went through the forty-five minute interview. I was asked about the priesthood. I talked about the Baptismal Covenant as a life of self-marginalization, and that the ordained are called to lead and invite the laity in the self-marginalization to which they've committed. Canon Dunnam asked if people who wear yellow bow ties marginalize themselves from society. I replied that people who wear yellow bow ties might be marginalized from society because they aren't the dominant trend, but that those who have been called to lead in self-marginalization, at least in The Episcopal Church, tend to wear white collars. He replied with, "Touché," and laughed. Two lay people clapped and everyone else at least laughed.

Cn. Dunnam also asked where I'd acquired my proficiency with language. I started by telling him that I'd answered that question in that building before. (Bishop Duncan asked me that when I went to talk to him in February.) I told him that Mom was an English teacher and that Romey had been particular about our speech and interviewing skills. Then he asked how my peers reacted, if at all. I told him for the most part that they don't. My group of friends all have our special areas and we use our terms and teach each other. I told the Commission about nerd hands for when someone does something ridiculously nerdy, and they laughed. I talked about Erin being an English major and Tate saying "amenesis." Then I was done talking to them.

I went to Aunt Terrie's to get lunch and chatted online briefly. I went back to the diocesan office for talks we were going to have about seminary life. Before going in I collected my thoughts since I was a little early. Four clergy people who've graduated from seminary in the last three years. We had conversations for three hours. It wasn't too bad, actually. A number of people called a few times to see if I had news. My phone was on silent. The conversations consisted of the four clergy people and all the people who'd been interviewed about postulancy, so we all got to meet one another, too. The talks were very good. They were informal and not stressful.

Then came the time for announcements. This is where the entry is picking up over a year later. We all waited in the diocesan office's lobby as we were called in one at a time. I got my announcement, and as we know by now, I became a postulant. However, there's more to that story. After the announcement, as I'm bubbling with excitement (and completely not feeling like it's election day), I went to get in my car. I felt my suit pockets, and what do you know, but my keys weren't in them!

I went around to the passenger's side and low and behold, my keys were in the ignition. I was still driving the Grand Prix at the time, and I had a very set routine for getting out of my car and locking the door. It started with taking the keys out of the ignition as I turned my lights off after I'd put the car in park, then opening the door. I had sat to collect my thoughts, and thus I had thrown off my routine. Door got locked, keys never made it out of the ignition. I was mortified. I told people inside what was going on, I think only the bishop and Mary were left at that point, and it worked out.

The bishop called AAA to open my car, which they did. However, we had to wait for the locksmith to get there. Bishop Duncan and I had pimento cheese sandwiches and Diet Cokes on Sally's desk while we waited for the locksmith to get there. I was so embarrassed. Freshly made postulant locks his keys in his car, and then the bishop has to wait with him before he can leave. Great beginning, you know? The locksmith came and opened the passenger door. We unlocked all the doors from it and Bishop Duncan held it open until I was safely in the driver's seat with the car started. Then I drove back to Troy, excited about being a postulant and about the election that was happening.

More Thoughts

Christ to comfort and restore me.
From "Saint Patrick's Breastplate"
So after I made my entry Tuesday night I IMed a lot of people who I didn't tag in it because I wanted them to read it. One of them replied, "Just remember, you don't have to be ordained to still do God's work." And he was right. I don't have to be ordained to do God's work. I do, however, have to be ordained to do what I think I'm called to do. When I replied with that he said, "Yeah, but it's not about you, remember it's about God." Fr. Jeff's conversation with me on Tuesday has been a good exercise all around. Wednesday I had a great conversation with Taylor Burton-Edwards about it that conversation and about ordination. He asked me a couple of questions that I had to answer "no" to. "Is you connection to The Episcopal Church based on the presumption that they will ordain you to the priesthood?" and "Is your connection to the Christian faith predicated on being recognized as a priest by someone?" There was another question, but I want to more fully explore my answers to those two before I move on to the third, because the third really made me think about my call into ordained ministry, and what it means, and what it entails. (Preview: It was affirming of my perception of call)
My connection to The Episcopal Church is based on the common worship of the church and the sacramental centrality of the denomination as a whole. Weekly Eucharist is a big part of that, but as I've spent more time examining the Church (both as a member and prior to my confirmation), the importance of baptism- throughout the Church (as opposed to just at the national level) - and the emphasis on living the Baptismal Covenant have been further attractions to me. That the Episcopal Church nationally is more socially liberal than the church of which I was a part also drew me. There were some things about ordination that drew me to TEC: transitional diaconate, not a three year probationary period, people being able to answer questions about the steps, a willingness to work with my being a student, remember that I am a student, and that "social justice" isn't a phrase of bad words to ecclesiastical bodies in my region of the country.
My connection to the Christian faith is not predicated on my being recognized as a presbyter in some expression of Christianity. While I believe that I am called to that kind of ministry and have gotten affirmation from a variety of other types of discernment groups, that is not why I am a Christian. I am a Christian in large part because I was raised in the South in a Christian family. I have never really had a "Why do I believe this?" moment in large part because I know it's mostly predicated on my having been born into it. However, as I have grown up and come to claim it for my own, I know that it is what works for me. I am not a Christian because I want to not go to Hell after I die (I don't really believe in a hell of fire and darkness with wailing and gnashing of teeth; I think hell just as much as heaven can be here and now). I am a Christian because I believe Jesus was the Son of God who came to take away the sin of the world, and in doing so liberated us from sin and death. The Church was right to label Pelagius as a heretic; we cannot save ourselves. I am a Christian because I believe that accepting the grace God has given us frees us from having to live with Law - new or old - and that Law makes us aware of our need for God's grace and redemption. Furthermore, living in grace enables us to submit to Christ and to be honest about who we are with ourselves and others; behavior modification to please ourselves and others is not necessary if we're able to be truthful about our need. A truthfulness about our need for grace enables us to accept the grace and live lives of freedom.
And there was a third question the led to a whole lot of discussion. "How will you continue to fulfill the fullness of the baptismal calling in the more limited strictures of the priesthood [assuming the commission says yes the whole way through the process]?" He continued, "Priesthood can be understood either as a place of honor (being the center of congregational attention) or as a place of marginalization (being put off to the side, really, and inviting the community to join you in marginalization)...of the kingdom of God." I did a little thinking and I answered. As a priest I would continue to my best to live the Baptismal Covenant but by the grace of God and the authority given by Her Church invite and encourage the people to do the same while reminding them of their commitment to do just that as I preach the Gospel. Also, by the grace of God and the authority of Her Church make means of grace available to them that encourage and strengthen them into living into the marginalized place of the Kin-dom of God that is here and now and countercultural and revolutionary to the systems that be. If ordained a priest I will do my part to live the Baptismal Covenant and lead by example, but also baptize people into Christ's Body (that is past, present, and future), which gives the gift of the Holy Spirit and seals someone as Christ's own forever; reconcile penitents to one another, the Church, and God, which restores the soul to peace and the mind so that it might continue to function at ease; feeding them the most precious Body and Blood of Christ to nourish their souls and bodies; anointing the sick so that they might be healed, physically, mentally, or spiritually.
Earlier this week I wrote an entry titled, "What If..." Well, here is my answer to "What If..."
If the Commission on Ministry says, "No," I will, with God's help:
- still believe in God the Father
- still believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God
- still believe in God the Holy Spirit
- still continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers
- still persevere in resisting evil, and whenever I fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord
- still proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ
- still seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving my neighbor as myself
- still strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.
Amen.

Some Follow-Up (already!)

I should've put as a PS on that last entry that Julie Andrews therapy is needed. That means The Sound of Music or even Princess Diaries. Jessica Williams made me think about having some Julie Andrews therapy. Too bad my copy of The Sound of Music is in South Carolina somewhere
Now, for an update. At some point this evening I recalled a line from a phrase that stuck out to me this weekend. This is from page 369 of the Book of Common Prayer:
We pray you, Gracious God, to send your Holy Spirit upon these gifts that they may be the Sacrament of the Body of Christ and his Blood of the new Covenant. Unite us to your Son in his sacrifice, that we may be acceptable through him, being sanctified by the Holy Spirit. In the fullness of time, put all things in subjection under your Christ, and bring us to that heavenly country where, with all your saints, we may enter the everlasting heritage of your sons and daughters; through Jesus Christ our Lord, the firstborn of all creation, the head of the Church, and the author of our salvation...[emphasis added, and yes I dink'ed it for Tate and Erin]
"All things in subjection under your Christ." As much as I talk about the Lordship of Christ triumphing over all, I should have faith that Christ will certainly be in control of the discernment process - if it takes until the fullness of time[2] for it to be so. I know that there are times that that doesn't happen, but I (we, beloved reading this who have dealt, are dealing with, or will deal with stubbornness from the Church (not necessarily saying that what I'll be dealing with)) will have to have faith that the Holy Spirit will be there. And we have to have hope, even after Good Friday moments.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise.

What If...

Today has been extremely emotionally taxing. I'm spent and totally worthless in this class I'm in, or so I thought. Maybe my intensity of emotion today prepared me for discussion. I really want to cuddle with someone because I'm so spent. I spent a good deal of time with Father Jeff today, and part of my being who I am made that taxing. He told me to start practicing the posture I'll need to assume for the rest of my life: submission and humility. Being who I am (someone who takes everything personally), I heard that as his saying I'm arrogant. (And I understand that some people perceive what I see as self-confidence as arrogance, and I know that there's a fine line.) We talked about that and worked it out. I feel better about that now.
Then we talked about something that I've had in the back of my head for a while but haven't really fleshed out as an idea: The commission can say no. I've known that possibility for a while, and I haven't thought, "Oh, I have this in the bag!" But at the same time I haven't thought about what that would mean for the rest of my life, and it hit me in the face. It made me mad and hurt me. They haven't said no, but I was feeling things that I might feel. And I've worked through those emotions and am feeling a lot better now. Fr. Jeff asked if I'd be able to still love the Church if they said no. My answer was that I don't know. As I was driving away from the church I said to myself it'd be easier for me to love the Church if they said no now rather than two weeks before graduation. I think I'd be okay, now, though. I've dealt with emotions. If they say no I'll be mad. I'll think they're making a huge mistake (more about hello, I'm young, and most of the The Episcopal Church is not than I'm Joseph Effin' Mathews). I'll be hurt and wonder how I can have gotten so much affirmation from so many different people about my call for the last three years and then a few people after forty-five minutes can say, "They were all wrong. Your sense of call is wrong."
But I've worked through some emotions now. And I'm exhausted from it, but I'll be okay if they say no. It was much better for me to face this stuff today than if it happens next week. We're still hoping and praying that they say yes, and there are people praying for me all over the country about it. I'm sitting in my stupid IDS class and Dr. Volrath has been rambling for an hour and 20 minutes. For some reason the following came into my head, "For the beauty of the earth..." So I Googled it and got all the lyrics.
Here are some selected verses and the chorus:
For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies
Refrain:
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This, our hymn of grateful praise
For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild.
Refrain
For Thy Church, that evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering up on every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love.
Refrain
For each perfect gift of Thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of Heaven.
Refrain
Lord of all, to Thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise. It will be well with my soul, although that's not the hymn where I've found consolation. I've found it in thanksgiving for the gifts we have. I was at Cursillo this weekend and said, "Thanks be God" innumerable times. When I first started going to St. Luke I said that after the scripture readings, but it was because I'm supposed to. Now, after four or five years, I mean it. Every time I say it now I mean it. I don't often express enough gratitude to others (or God), but I do mean thanksgiving for scripture having been given to guide us. And I do completely understand that for much of today I've gotten worked up over something that might not actually happened. However if I do get told "no," I'll have had something of a practice run.
"For the love which from our birth, over and around us lies." I'll still be loved by God. And the people who tell me no will still be loved by God. And, if I practice the faith that I profess to believe, should still be loved by me.
"Friends on earth and friends above." If I get told no I'll still have friends. Friends around me in Troy, AL. Friends in Montgomery. Friends in CoMo, friends in B'ham, friends in San Francisco, friends in Nashville, friends in DC, friends in NYC, friends in White Sulpher Springs, WV, friends at Western Kentucky, friends at Candler, friends at Wesley, friends at Garrett, friends at Shennandoah University...and friends (and family!) throughout the communion of the saints (who we'll remember this week at church).
"Graces human and divine." If I'm told no, I do suppose that I'll still be able to love the Church. I'll be hurt, and sad, and angry, and maybe feel like I've not given a fair shot. But we're supposed to forgive as we've been forgiven, no?

In 1998

"The average age of ECUSA priests is 59.7. The average age of priests not retired is 55.4. Five thousand, three hundred eighty-seven (32.7%) of the priests are 66 or older. The average age of all priests 65 or younger is 52.6. Three hundred twenty (1.9%) of all priests are 35 or younger."

That's out of around 14K priests.