Based on Matthew 20:1-16. Rather than a sermon this week, I decided to do something a little different - more in the style of a meditation. Maybe I'll post a comment telling people how it goes.....
I am going to try and take you back through time, back more than 2000 years, and tell you a story. It may well never have happened, but that doesn't mean that it's not true: for this is one of the stories that Jesus used to tell his listeners what God is like. Before us is a man, a working man much like any other.....
At the time, I was so angry. I couldn't understand why someone could be so unfair. You might laugh now, tell me that I had no right, but you weren't the one who was there and I was.
It was a hot day, and I stood at the hiring place hoping that I would be one of the lucky ones. Work is hard to come by, and if I don't work, I don't eat - and neither do my family. This day, I was lucky: a day's work in the Vineyard, picking the fruit. Off we went, and because we knew it was easy to replace us, we got on with it. There was plenty to do - it was a big vineyard. A long day's work in the heat of the sun lay ahead of us - but the reward, the wages, would be worth it.
You have to get a harvest in quickly, so it wasn't a big surprise when in the middle of the morning a few more came in to work; there was still plenty to do, and as lunchtime came and then mid-afternoon, more workers arrived. I felt a bit sorry for them - half a wage may be better than none, but too many half wages and you'll soon feel the hunger in your belly.
It was coming to the end of the day when even more arrived; it hardly seemed worth their while coming, they were only there for about an hour. Still, you don't turn down work if you want to eat, even if an hour's wage will only buy you enough for one small meal.
When they went up to collect their wages though, they got given a full day's wage. As one of the first hired, I couldn't help but think about what was coming to me: if that was what they got for one hour, surely I'd be getting enough to feed the family for a week. I started working it out: what I would buy, where I would keep the rest of the money, whether I was going to let myself have a day off sometime soon or just use it as a backup in case i didn't get hired.
One days wage. One lousy, mean, day's wage - exactly the same as the ones who'd stood around for most of the day got. All that work, the sun beating down, and I got the same as someone who had worked for an hour. How can you tell me that's fair?
The problem was, I'd agreed to it. As he pointed out when I complained, I hadn't been cheated by him - I'd got exactly what was promised. It was tempting to think that I should have just hung around waiting for evening before getting hired, but it doesn't work like that - you have to take what you can, when you can. Even so, I thought I had good reason to be unhappy.
I took my wages and walked away, heading for home. As I walked, lost in my own thoughts, I barely noticed until I bumped into him one of those who'd worked for an hour. To my amazement, he was crying; not in pain, but in joy. I didn't know him, but I had seen him around; a small bloke, a bit older, one of the ones that sometimes didn't get hired because the landowners want the strongest, fittest and youngest workers. He was speechless with the joy of what he had been given. And then I remembered the time last year when no-one hired me for a whole week, of the despair, the wondering why I wasn't being picked. And the joy when someone finally gave me a job. And do you know something? I cried too.
Saturday, 17 September 2011
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Job Advert: Or, the importance of reading between the lines
Inspired by what this afternoon has held for me....
"An exciting opportunity has arisen to work pastorally alongside the Minister. You will be working in a fruitful field, helping the Minister in Worship Preparation and work with young people. You will be fully equipped for your task, and need to demonstrate the ability to 'run the race before you' no matter what. An attention to detail will be crucial."
Translation: The Minister needs someone to come and cut the grass at the Manse. It's a big lawn, and it grows quick. If you can come and do it every week it will mean that he can get on with Sunday's service or maybe go out with the kids. The Lawn mower is in the shed. Don't leave it half done even if it starts raining. Oh, and there's a strimmer in there as well.
"An exciting opportunity has arisen to work pastorally alongside the Minister. You will be working in a fruitful field, helping the Minister in Worship Preparation and work with young people. You will be fully equipped for your task, and need to demonstrate the ability to 'run the race before you' no matter what. An attention to detail will be crucial."
Translation: The Minister needs someone to come and cut the grass at the Manse. It's a big lawn, and it grows quick. If you can come and do it every week it will mean that he can get on with Sunday's service or maybe go out with the kids. The Lawn mower is in the shed. Don't leave it half done even if it starts raining. Oh, and there's a strimmer in there as well.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Praying for Peace in Manchester
After Tuesday night's riots and Wednesday's Cleanup in Central Manchester, the rain seemed to have washed away the desire to riot on Wednesday Evening; it's rained during today (Thursday) as well, but that didn't stop a group of people meeting up at Piccadilly Gardens just after 5pm this evening.
There was some milling around, people talking to those they knew, a sense of anticipation as the police watched on. And then, the events got underway.
It started with a man and woman addressing the crowd, and leaflets being handed out. Suddenly the group had purpose, and as we stood there we said together a prayer for peace, and sang a song - modified for the occasion by the writer, Shirley Erena Murray, who is based in New Zealand - the words of which can be found here.
The group - about 60 strong - had come together through Faith Network 4 Manchester and included members of several different Christian groups, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Quakers, and others of different faiths - or even no faith at all. (For a few pictures see here.) It gathered as a response to the riots - not to campaign against them, but to do something positive by showing that people of different faiths can stand together in the cause of peace.
After singing, and joining together in a large circle, people talked. Whatever our faith or ethnic backgrounds, we had gathered to make common purpose and at least in the conversations I was part of and heard, there was plenty of tolerance and mutual respect - the way it should be.
Going into Manchester for the first time since the rioting was a bit strange. I parked at Printworks, my normal spot, and everything seemed pretty normal - more police than normal, but the Arndale was still open and everything looked intact until I reached Jessops. I didn't get the chance to play tourist and gawp at Oldham Street or Miss Selfridge, but those involved in the cleanup seem to have done a good job. The police presence was noticable as you'd expect, and at the time of writing there seems to have been little further trouble. I can't claim any credit for that - I suspect the weather and the police presence has been more in any rioters mind than the presence of a bunch of religious people hanging around Piccadilly Gardens - but if nothing else it's a sign that some of the things that may be thought to divide us need not do so, and a positive message - a message of people working together for peace - has been seen where two nights ago violence and disorder ruled the roost.
There was some milling around, people talking to those they knew, a sense of anticipation as the police watched on. And then, the events got underway.
It started with a man and woman addressing the crowd, and leaflets being handed out. Suddenly the group had purpose, and as we stood there we said together a prayer for peace, and sang a song - modified for the occasion by the writer, Shirley Erena Murray, who is based in New Zealand - the words of which can be found here.
The group - about 60 strong - had come together through Faith Network 4 Manchester and included members of several different Christian groups, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Quakers, and others of different faiths - or even no faith at all. (For a few pictures see here.) It gathered as a response to the riots - not to campaign against them, but to do something positive by showing that people of different faiths can stand together in the cause of peace.
After singing, and joining together in a large circle, people talked. Whatever our faith or ethnic backgrounds, we had gathered to make common purpose and at least in the conversations I was part of and heard, there was plenty of tolerance and mutual respect - the way it should be.
Going into Manchester for the first time since the rioting was a bit strange. I parked at Printworks, my normal spot, and everything seemed pretty normal - more police than normal, but the Arndale was still open and everything looked intact until I reached Jessops. I didn't get the chance to play tourist and gawp at Oldham Street or Miss Selfridge, but those involved in the cleanup seem to have done a good job. The police presence was noticable as you'd expect, and at the time of writing there seems to have been little further trouble. I can't claim any credit for that - I suspect the weather and the police presence has been more in any rioters mind than the presence of a bunch of religious people hanging around Piccadilly Gardens - but if nothing else it's a sign that some of the things that may be thought to divide us need not do so, and a positive message - a message of people working together for peace - has been seen where two nights ago violence and disorder ruled the roost.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Baptism, Communion, and Technology
This morning saw me, for the first time, trying to combine a Baptism and Communion. In hindsight, trying to also make this my first major use of a projector and laptop at the same church might not have been the best idea... There was however something I got right that had nothing to do with technology, and everything to do with understanding my context.
The usual congregation are, as they would say themselves, young at heart rather than in any other way. There were probably more that came for the baptism than came because they are normally there, and with a group that were not overly familiar with church, I wanted to try and avoid having too many books to juggle and pages to find. So various bits of liturgy and hymns, together with some appropriate images, were put into a 40 slide presentation to go on the projector screen that is a permanent fixture on the wall.
Unfortunately, the screen's motorised mechanism had it seemed been causing trouble - a fuse was gone, and until it was sorted then we were going to be distinctly low tech!
It was eventually sorted out, but with the limited time to set up and the family arriving it was hardly ideal preparation to lead worship. And, it turned out, there was no-one standing by to press the buttons - leaving me to try and do my best with a wireless mouse that wasn't playing nice. After the baptism itself, I gave up on the technology other than to display a couple of images. One lesson is that especially when you're working with liturgy, make sure that someone else is there to press the buttons!
Fortunately - and this may be where my experience of working with IT comes in - I was prepared for this eventuality. All the hymns were also in the hymnbooks in the pews - and all the responses were on a sheet I'd printed in sufficient quantity for people to have sight of. I didn't have to worry too much about the tech failing, and I can learn for next time. I'm already thinking that it might be better to be less ambitious - maybe a few images and the hymns is enough, as after all not everyone will always be able to read from a screen, especially when it is not ideally positioned for the task.
Where things went right was that I took a little time before Communion to explain what we were doing, why we were doing it, and how we were doing it. I didn't use theological language, I tried to pitch it at their level, and I had written my own Prayer of Thanksgiving. Many from the baptismal party came up, mostly to receive a blessing.
Afterwards, one of the regular congregation told me that I had done something out of the ordinary by explaining about Communion - something that apparently other ministers having to combine Baptism and Communion had not done at that church.
Is this true? There are many Ministers I have followed there, some of whom I know and have much respect for. Was I really the first to do this? Maybe not, but it certainly something to reflect on.
The point is that it showed the importance of context. I was very aware of the lack of experience many there had of church in general and communion in particular: these days, many (if not most) only have contact with church for special occasions, and with the rise of alternate wedding venues and Crem-only funerals, often with little or no religious input, the number of those special occasions is even lower. I do not say this to bemoan the situation, it is merely an observation. So when people do come to church, one cannot assume that they know anything about what we are about, what our sacraments are for, or whether they are welcome to join in with them. This places a responsibility on those of us who lead worship on these occasions, to be prepared to explain a bit more than normal and to adjust things to a degree.
It also places another responsibility on us: to present the Good News to those who have joined us for this occasion. By having Baptism as part of a public act of worship, there is an opportunity to do this. However if people feel unwelcome, if they feel excluded because they don't understand what is going on, that opportunity could be easily lost.
The usual congregation are, as they would say themselves, young at heart rather than in any other way. There were probably more that came for the baptism than came because they are normally there, and with a group that were not overly familiar with church, I wanted to try and avoid having too many books to juggle and pages to find. So various bits of liturgy and hymns, together with some appropriate images, were put into a 40 slide presentation to go on the projector screen that is a permanent fixture on the wall.
Unfortunately, the screen's motorised mechanism had it seemed been causing trouble - a fuse was gone, and until it was sorted then we were going to be distinctly low tech!
It was eventually sorted out, but with the limited time to set up and the family arriving it was hardly ideal preparation to lead worship. And, it turned out, there was no-one standing by to press the buttons - leaving me to try and do my best with a wireless mouse that wasn't playing nice. After the baptism itself, I gave up on the technology other than to display a couple of images. One lesson is that especially when you're working with liturgy, make sure that someone else is there to press the buttons!
Fortunately - and this may be where my experience of working with IT comes in - I was prepared for this eventuality. All the hymns were also in the hymnbooks in the pews - and all the responses were on a sheet I'd printed in sufficient quantity for people to have sight of. I didn't have to worry too much about the tech failing, and I can learn for next time. I'm already thinking that it might be better to be less ambitious - maybe a few images and the hymns is enough, as after all not everyone will always be able to read from a screen, especially when it is not ideally positioned for the task.
Where things went right was that I took a little time before Communion to explain what we were doing, why we were doing it, and how we were doing it. I didn't use theological language, I tried to pitch it at their level, and I had written my own Prayer of Thanksgiving. Many from the baptismal party came up, mostly to receive a blessing.
Afterwards, one of the regular congregation told me that I had done something out of the ordinary by explaining about Communion - something that apparently other ministers having to combine Baptism and Communion had not done at that church.
Is this true? There are many Ministers I have followed there, some of whom I know and have much respect for. Was I really the first to do this? Maybe not, but it certainly something to reflect on.
The point is that it showed the importance of context. I was very aware of the lack of experience many there had of church in general and communion in particular: these days, many (if not most) only have contact with church for special occasions, and with the rise of alternate wedding venues and Crem-only funerals, often with little or no religious input, the number of those special occasions is even lower. I do not say this to bemoan the situation, it is merely an observation. So when people do come to church, one cannot assume that they know anything about what we are about, what our sacraments are for, or whether they are welcome to join in with them. This places a responsibility on those of us who lead worship on these occasions, to be prepared to explain a bit more than normal and to adjust things to a degree.
It also places another responsibility on us: to present the Good News to those who have joined us for this occasion. By having Baptism as part of a public act of worship, there is an opportunity to do this. However if people feel unwelcome, if they feel excluded because they don't understand what is going on, that opportunity could be easily lost.
Saturday, 23 July 2011
Intercessions for Sunday 24th July
Often I rely on either completely extempore prayers (though I do have a sort of structure I tend to work to) or some printed ones - in particular some from Christine Odell's Companion to the Revised Common Letionary - but tonight I've written some to use at the two services I'm taking tomorrow (Sunday). If anyone else wants to use them be my guest - all I'd ask is that you let me know that you've used them.
______________________________________________________________
We come to God knowing that through Christ, our prayers are not only heard, but also understood by one who lived our life; we ask for the Holy Spirit to show us answers, and give us wisdom and courage to accept those answers when they are not what we would wish.
Christ our Lord, you knew those who suffered, in body, mind, and spirit; you brought healing and blessing. We ask for healing and blessing for those known to us today: For.....
May they know your healing, your comfort, your power in their lives.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you created a community around you. We pray for our community here, and the wider community that we are part of; for those who lead their communities, and those of power and influence. We seek wisdom for us and for them, and we ask that your Holy Spirit will guide all in the ways of justice, peace and mercy.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you knew what it was to be hungry and thirsty. We pray for those across our world, and especially in East Africa, who are suffering and dying due to lack of food and water: for those who seek to help them, and those who have the power to decide where help is welcome. We mourn with those who mourn, and ask you to show us how we can help those in need.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you were a victim of violence and death. We pray for those who have been victims and those who mourn them: for those killed in Norway, for those in Afghanistan, and in so many other places across our world; and for those closer to home, the victims of violence and killing in our society. We look to bring a message of peace and reconciliation, and an end to violence.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you restored the faith of those who doubted. We pray for all those whose faith has been shaken by recent events, and ask that you will restore our faith and theirs.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, we thank you for hearing our prayers, for being part of our lives, and ask that through the Holy Spirit we will be able to show others how our prayers are answered. Amen.
With events in Norway unfolding, the continuing humanitarian crisis in East Africa, and closer to home the events at Stepping Hill Hospital in Stockport I wanted to make some sort of acknowledgment that there's a lot of hurt and possibly a lot of doubt - but also to frame that in the humanity of Jesus Christ, who shows us that God truly does understand our pain - and came to this earth to prove it to us.
______________________________________________________________
We come to God knowing that through Christ, our prayers are not only heard, but also understood by one who lived our life; we ask for the Holy Spirit to show us answers, and give us wisdom and courage to accept those answers when they are not what we would wish.
Christ our Lord, you knew those who suffered, in body, mind, and spirit; you brought healing and blessing. We ask for healing and blessing for those known to us today: For.....
May they know your healing, your comfort, your power in their lives.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you created a community around you. We pray for our community here, and the wider community that we are part of; for those who lead their communities, and those of power and influence. We seek wisdom for us and for them, and we ask that your Holy Spirit will guide all in the ways of justice, peace and mercy.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you knew what it was to be hungry and thirsty. We pray for those across our world, and especially in East Africa, who are suffering and dying due to lack of food and water: for those who seek to help them, and those who have the power to decide where help is welcome. We mourn with those who mourn, and ask you to show us how we can help those in need.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you were a victim of violence and death. We pray for those who have been victims and those who mourn them: for those killed in Norway, for those in Afghanistan, and in so many other places across our world; and for those closer to home, the victims of violence and killing in our society. We look to bring a message of peace and reconciliation, and an end to violence.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, you restored the faith of those who doubted. We pray for all those whose faith has been shaken by recent events, and ask that you will restore our faith and theirs.
Lord of our life
Hear our prayer
Christ our Lord, we thank you for hearing our prayers, for being part of our lives, and ask that through the Holy Spirit we will be able to show others how our prayers are answered. Amen.
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Presiding at Communion
I took bread and wine.
I gave you thanks.
I broke the bread.
I shared it with all those there.
Simple. And yet also profound.
Sunday 10th July was the first time I was able to preside at a celebration of Holy Communion. Unlike many of those ordained on that day, I had not received authorisation to preside at communion - and possibly even more unusually, the fact that I hadn't an authorisation wasn't my own choice.
Methodism in many ways contains much that is pragmatic, and one sign of this is the attitude to communion. For Methodists, typically there's one communion service per month per church; any less than that though and a Circuit can ask Conference to give an Authorisation to someone who is not an Ordained Presbyter to preside at communion. This might be a Probationer, maybe in the past a Deacon (although that's not really what Deacons are about and so it's very, very rare now), even a Lay Person - I have known all three happen. This will seem strange to those in many traditions, some (such as Roman Catholic and Anglican) unhappy about the idea of anyone other than an Ordained Presbyter involved, others (such as Baptists) wondering what all the fuss is about and why we have to have this system anyway.
For me I don't personally have a problem with this. One of the traditional (Protestant!) Marks of the Church involves proper administration of the Sacraments; I am happy to interpret this as allowing the Methodist Conference to so authorise people to preside, especially as it does take some care to ensure there is a genuine need for the requested authorisation.
This has though placed me in the position of acting as Minister of my churches for two (in one case three) years without being able to preside at Communion. I have found this something that, especially over the last few months, I have been longing to do. It has confirmed me in my calling as much as anything, and I have in some ways found it to be a gift - for I feel that I can approach this aspect of my ministry in a way that I may not have done when I started out. I have for example realised that I hold a rather higher view of the sacraments than I had previously thought - although maybe not as high as some of those within Methodism; I'm not about to join the Methodist Sacramental Fellowship for example, although I respect their position.
So when it came to Sunday it was truly a celebration. People from all three of my churches gathered together, and in the gathering it seems all found enrichment - I'm still getting comments back about how wonderful the occasion was. For me there was a sense of rightness, of doing as God has called me to do; of celebration, as I was finally able to fulfill that call; of rejoicing, that all were prepared to come together (which is for me one of the important parts of what communion is all about); but above all, that it was a fantastic opportunity to praise and worship God, and to celebrate what Christ has done for us.
I can only hope, as I prepare for a future where leading communion services will be a minimum of four times a month, that that same sense of reverence, of worship, and of sharing, will always be a part of my presiding at communion. Lord, let me never take this gift - and my calling to be the channel of it - for granted......
I gave you thanks.
I broke the bread.
I shared it with all those there.
Simple. And yet also profound.
Sunday 10th July was the first time I was able to preside at a celebration of Holy Communion. Unlike many of those ordained on that day, I had not received authorisation to preside at communion - and possibly even more unusually, the fact that I hadn't an authorisation wasn't my own choice.
Methodism in many ways contains much that is pragmatic, and one sign of this is the attitude to communion. For Methodists, typically there's one communion service per month per church; any less than that though and a Circuit can ask Conference to give an Authorisation to someone who is not an Ordained Presbyter to preside at communion. This might be a Probationer, maybe in the past a Deacon (although that's not really what Deacons are about and so it's very, very rare now), even a Lay Person - I have known all three happen. This will seem strange to those in many traditions, some (such as Roman Catholic and Anglican) unhappy about the idea of anyone other than an Ordained Presbyter involved, others (such as Baptists) wondering what all the fuss is about and why we have to have this system anyway.
For me I don't personally have a problem with this. One of the traditional (Protestant!) Marks of the Church involves proper administration of the Sacraments; I am happy to interpret this as allowing the Methodist Conference to so authorise people to preside, especially as it does take some care to ensure there is a genuine need for the requested authorisation.
This has though placed me in the position of acting as Minister of my churches for two (in one case three) years without being able to preside at Communion. I have found this something that, especially over the last few months, I have been longing to do. It has confirmed me in my calling as much as anything, and I have in some ways found it to be a gift - for I feel that I can approach this aspect of my ministry in a way that I may not have done when I started out. I have for example realised that I hold a rather higher view of the sacraments than I had previously thought - although maybe not as high as some of those within Methodism; I'm not about to join the Methodist Sacramental Fellowship for example, although I respect their position.
So when it came to Sunday it was truly a celebration. People from all three of my churches gathered together, and in the gathering it seems all found enrichment - I'm still getting comments back about how wonderful the occasion was. For me there was a sense of rightness, of doing as God has called me to do; of celebration, as I was finally able to fulfill that call; of rejoicing, that all were prepared to come together (which is for me one of the important parts of what communion is all about); but above all, that it was a fantastic opportunity to praise and worship God, and to celebrate what Christ has done for us.
I can only hope, as I prepare for a future where leading communion services will be a minimum of four times a month, that that same sense of reverence, of worship, and of sharing, will always be a part of my presiding at communion. Lord, let me never take this gift - and my calling to be the channel of it - for granted......
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Reflecting on Ordination
Last Sunday saw my calling as a Methodist Presbyter affirmed in two very important ways: First, I was Received into Full Connexion, and then, at Liverpool Cathedral, I was Ordained. At both, my calling was powerfully affirmed: the first time as all those there rose to their feet, at the second by the whole congregation saying of myself and the 12 other Ordinands, "They are worthy". Both were moments to bring a lump to the throat, and with the many people covering every aspect of my life present at Liverpool it was an experience both celebratory and humbling.
This in many ways marks the end of a long journey - and yet it also becomes the start of a new one. When I look back, the seeds of this were sown not much short of 20 years ago, while I was still a fairly recent convert to Christianity and a teenage University student; the first signs of growth came in the mid to late 1990s as I began training as a Local Preacher, being fully accredited at the end of 1999.
It was that year that I knew, beyond my own doubt, that God was calling me and what to be. It wasn't that I hadn't before, but now I couldn't ignore it. A diversion into being a Circuit Steward - and getting married! - later, and I was all ready to apply at the start of 2004.
Except I had missed the deadline for that year. So it was the autumn of 2004 when I applied, early in 2005 when I was accepted for Foundation Training, and September before I went to the first day - a Saturday at Withington, as Luther King House was booked out! There I met others who shared part or all of this journey with me. It was a joy to be ordained with one of those I met that day, but in some ways also a shame that I was unable to go and support my friend who was Ordained Deacon on the same day.
I could go on and on about the training, but suffice to say that after six years it was a great relief when the Probationers Committee passed me. I was pretty sure they would - and I even managed to get them laughing, as when invited to ask them any questions I pointed out that there was really only one I needed the answer to - "Am I in?"
Preparations had been in hand already, but the path was still not to be smooth. The venue chosen was the smallest, and the only one within walking distance of Conference; the tickets made available disappeared fast enough that no-one beyond my personal allocation (plus my in-laws who were waiting on the website as soon as it opened) was able to get any. After a short flurry of activity involving ordinands, District Chairs and others, some of us were switched to the largest venue - Liverpool Cathedral.
So much then seemed to happen that the weeks went by at a blur; then, the week before Ordination, it all had to stop as I joined the other Prebyteral Ordinands on retreat.
The Retreat was exactly what I needed: a time to stop, to reflect, and to address some of my own feelings. I'm sure that a number of us were thinking - as I did - of those that wouldn't be there on Sunday. So there was some sadness, but also much blessing: when, during a communion, you feel someone come and sit down next to you even when you know full well there is no-one physically there, when it's almost like a physical shock, and you realise that you are in Christ's presence, how can you be anything but blessed?
And then it came to Sunday. Being part of an act of worship that would recognise me for what I have been called to be, but nevertheless centred on God. That encouraged me to be fully me - fully human - in God's service. That said, as everyone stood to affirm me, that my calling is true.
Then to Liverpool, and to a venue that in itself inspires awe. Meeting up with my Assisting Minister, who, exactly 52 years after his own Ordination, was making this one of his last public acts of ministry. Meeting up with people from every aspect of my life, who had chosen to come and support me whatever their own faith (or lack of it) might be. Being walked through where to go, where to sit, when to move. Being reminded by David Wilkinson in his sermon that although unworthy by myself, I am in fact worthy because the grace of God makes me so. And even right up to the point of preparing to move to the kneeler where Neil Richardson would Ordain me, there was the part of me saying - is this really happening? Am I really about to be Ordained? How can something I've worked so hard for for so many years sneak up on me unawares?
Receiving the Stole bought for me by my wife. Sharing in Communion with about a thousand people. And then, as we walked out back to the robing room, the applause, the cheers as we were welcomed by those who came to support each of us.
It hasn't really sunk in. The implications of what happened will take me longer to work out than I will ever have.
Now, Ordained to Word and Sacrament, I am preparing to do something for the first time: Preside at a service of Holy Communion. Unlike many of my fellow Ordinands I have not had an authorisation to preside - not because I refused, but because there was not sufficient need for my Circuit to make the request. In many ways I am glad: for this first time, this special time, will be an opportunity to celebrate with my churches at the start of this new aspect of what will be my life-long ministry. It is an aspect that I have had three years in Circuit to reflect on: and I can't wait to do this for them, the thing that I know God has called me to, and through the Holy Spirit enabled me for.
This in many ways marks the end of a long journey - and yet it also becomes the start of a new one. When I look back, the seeds of this were sown not much short of 20 years ago, while I was still a fairly recent convert to Christianity and a teenage University student; the first signs of growth came in the mid to late 1990s as I began training as a Local Preacher, being fully accredited at the end of 1999.
It was that year that I knew, beyond my own doubt, that God was calling me and what to be. It wasn't that I hadn't before, but now I couldn't ignore it. A diversion into being a Circuit Steward - and getting married! - later, and I was all ready to apply at the start of 2004.
Except I had missed the deadline for that year. So it was the autumn of 2004 when I applied, early in 2005 when I was accepted for Foundation Training, and September before I went to the first day - a Saturday at Withington, as Luther King House was booked out! There I met others who shared part or all of this journey with me. It was a joy to be ordained with one of those I met that day, but in some ways also a shame that I was unable to go and support my friend who was Ordained Deacon on the same day.
I could go on and on about the training, but suffice to say that after six years it was a great relief when the Probationers Committee passed me. I was pretty sure they would - and I even managed to get them laughing, as when invited to ask them any questions I pointed out that there was really only one I needed the answer to - "Am I in?"
Preparations had been in hand already, but the path was still not to be smooth. The venue chosen was the smallest, and the only one within walking distance of Conference; the tickets made available disappeared fast enough that no-one beyond my personal allocation (plus my in-laws who were waiting on the website as soon as it opened) was able to get any. After a short flurry of activity involving ordinands, District Chairs and others, some of us were switched to the largest venue - Liverpool Cathedral.
So much then seemed to happen that the weeks went by at a blur; then, the week before Ordination, it all had to stop as I joined the other Prebyteral Ordinands on retreat.
The Retreat was exactly what I needed: a time to stop, to reflect, and to address some of my own feelings. I'm sure that a number of us were thinking - as I did - of those that wouldn't be there on Sunday. So there was some sadness, but also much blessing: when, during a communion, you feel someone come and sit down next to you even when you know full well there is no-one physically there, when it's almost like a physical shock, and you realise that you are in Christ's presence, how can you be anything but blessed?
And then it came to Sunday. Being part of an act of worship that would recognise me for what I have been called to be, but nevertheless centred on God. That encouraged me to be fully me - fully human - in God's service. That said, as everyone stood to affirm me, that my calling is true.
Then to Liverpool, and to a venue that in itself inspires awe. Meeting up with my Assisting Minister, who, exactly 52 years after his own Ordination, was making this one of his last public acts of ministry. Meeting up with people from every aspect of my life, who had chosen to come and support me whatever their own faith (or lack of it) might be. Being walked through where to go, where to sit, when to move. Being reminded by David Wilkinson in his sermon that although unworthy by myself, I am in fact worthy because the grace of God makes me so. And even right up to the point of preparing to move to the kneeler where Neil Richardson would Ordain me, there was the part of me saying - is this really happening? Am I really about to be Ordained? How can something I've worked so hard for for so many years sneak up on me unawares?
Receiving the Stole bought for me by my wife. Sharing in Communion with about a thousand people. And then, as we walked out back to the robing room, the applause, the cheers as we were welcomed by those who came to support each of us.
It hasn't really sunk in. The implications of what happened will take me longer to work out than I will ever have.
Now, Ordained to Word and Sacrament, I am preparing to do something for the first time: Preside at a service of Holy Communion. Unlike many of my fellow Ordinands I have not had an authorisation to preside - not because I refused, but because there was not sufficient need for my Circuit to make the request. In many ways I am glad: for this first time, this special time, will be an opportunity to celebrate with my churches at the start of this new aspect of what will be my life-long ministry. It is an aspect that I have had three years in Circuit to reflect on: and I can't wait to do this for them, the thing that I know God has called me to, and through the Holy Spirit enabled me for.
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