Crows and Ordination - Continuing Discernment

Today marks the tenth anniversary of my ordination. Ten years ago I stood in Penrhos Chapel surrounded by friends and family as people said special prayers and words that changed my life. Ten years ago I knelt as mentors and colleagues placed their hands on me and prayed for the Spirit to strengthen and gift me for this calling. Ten years ago it seemed the possibilities were endless, I was excited, full of anticipation - I was ready. Today I find myself in a very different space and I ask myself what these ten years of ordination mean while on a leave of absence from ministry. 

I have come to realise over the last two years that my view of ordination was rather narrow. There were a few choices: chaplaincy (school, hospital, palliative care, defence forces), congregational ministry or a position within the church institution. I had a go at school chaplaincy for a few years. I enjoyed this placement, but discerned that it was time to move on and minister in a congregation. I spent seven great years ministering with the Margaret River and Augusta congregations and during this time discovered so much about myself. And then everything hit the fan - so to speak.

I began to experience those familiar niggles and nudges that have become a sign to me that the next chapter is unfolding just over the page. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, the rollercoaster of discernment began once again. But the journey has seemed to end off the rails in some wasteland beyond the amusement park. Some people have politely questioned my decisions and at times I have felt like a disappointment to the church. However, I made the choice to be authentic to my sense of calling even when it seemed out of place. I have been constantly asking myself what church, ministry and ordination looks like beyond the bounds of the box I had created.

I may well have still been stuck in this spot if it hadn't been for a drama production I experienced while at the Common Dreams conference in Sydney last month. Rev Alex Sangster performed a solo piece titled 'Crow' over three days. Full of symbolism and emotion, the drama touched on themes of death, ordination, revelation and relationship. For me, it spoke deeply into my own situation and struggles to understand this space I now find myself.

As Alex portrayed her character, with all her insecurities and questions, I found myself resting more easily into my own journey. As I watched her becoming more okay with her sense of 'being' rather than 'doing', so too I became more comfortable in seeing my ministry in terms of the person I am rather than the tasks I conquer. As I experienced the presence of the crow interweaving through all the dialogue, the struggles and the peace, I too became more trusting of the continuing presence that is guiding me through this strange land.

And so, as I look back over ten years of ordination, ten years of setting my life apart for whatever God calls me into next, I am content that this space is where I am supposed to be right now. It may not be what others expected from me, or even what I expected myself, but it is proving to be a place that is surprising and fruitful. I keep listening for the crow and look forward to what adventures the next ten years will bring.

This Rocky Outcrop

Yesterday, I had the privilege of meeting for the first time with a person who I will mentor through a specific time of discernment. The time was spent hearing hopes and dreams and sharing stories of the journey thus far. I always get a little nervous when I am asked to take on this sort of role with people, as my journey has often been filled with a great deal of uncertainty. I especially feel inadequate when people are discerning a call to work for the church, as my experience has felt like a constant battle.

I told the person, as we sat having our cuppas, that I would not attempt to paint my path to ordination or the journey since with rose coloured hues. In sharing my more recent struggles in ministry, however, I was able to see that I have come to another landmark along the way. You know those points along a hike where you stop, take in the scenery and refresh yourself before embarking on the next chapter. 

The last couple of years have been challenging. I have chosen particular paths that have kept me in ministry and the church. These have not been the easy options. Far from it, it would have been easier at times to walk away. On the positive side, I feel I have chosen the path of integrity, freedom and hope. On the other hand, it is also the path of loneliness, challenge and uncertainty. 

My battle with the church is not unique. My wondering about the future of the church, it's lethargy in bringing about change, and the vocal Christian groups who speak with judgment 'on my behalf' all leave me feeling a dull sense of despair. The questions that have run around my mind are about being real in ministry, preaching with integrity and what it means to be a Christian in today's world. These questions all come from the heart, but there are another bunch of questions that runs alongside from the mind. How do I do this without upsetting the people in my congregation? What if people leave and we don't have enough money? What if? What if? Should I just stick with the status quo? Do I have the energy to try and be different? These are the questions that, implicitly, many church meetings have taught me to ask. 

So, what has brought me to this landmark? I find myself standing on this granite outcrop, relieved to be here on solid ground for a while. I have no idea what lies ahead, how the journey will pan out. But, for now, I know I have the strength to keep going. Why? Because I have met some fellow travellers who have encouraged me; speakers at festivals, colleagues willing to chat on Skype, a supervisor who gives me bread for the next leg, friends who are just there and congregation members who let me know they are still behind me. I cannot continue in my ministry in the church if it is not with integrity. I cannot go on remaining silent about things that are important to me. I cannot keep on pretending that I can make everyone happy. 

As my supervisor said to me recently, 'Have you read the stories about Jesus? Sitting on the fence is not following Jesus. And following Jesus is not about keeping friends.' I have been very slow to learn this. This week, my supervisor of eight and a half years let me know that our supervisory relationship would need to end due to health problems. I want to thank him for getting me to this rocky outcrop in the middle of this beautiful, rugged land. The journey continues!

Hearing yourself speak the truth

I wonder if you have ever had the situation where you are talking with someone or a group and you hear yourself say something that takes you quite by surprise. Perhaps you have been working through something in your head for a few days, and the person you are with asks a question that is related. The answer you give comes straight from the heart, rather than the head, and all of a sudden everything makes sense.

I had a situation like this a couple of weeks ago. I had been reflecting on what it meant to be called into ministry and to name this as my vocation. Many hours have been spent with my supervisor around this very question. All of this pondering was useful and had challenged me in a variety of ways to look from different angles at where I found myself today. I still felt, however, that I had missed the point.

During Lent, our congregation engaged in a study on the topic of Finding Your Voice, based on the film 'The King's Speech'. One of the sessions explored the idea of 'being called'. Someone asked me during this study, 'How did your call to ministry happen, Cathie?' Before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth, 'Well, I don't actually think my calling is to be a minister - this is just how I am living out my calling in the here and now.'

The truth had been spoken. The words were out and they have been going through my mind ever since. It was the truth. I worked out my 'calling' a long time ago and it is still the same today. Discovering this, led me to apply for the ministry. It so happens that, in ministry, I am able to live out my calling. This may seem like a small, insignificant difference - perhaps being pedantic about semantics. For me, however, hearing myself speak this truth was an 'aha' moment, a liberation from the challenges that had been plaguing me.

This was a good lesson to listen to my heart as well as my head. A big thank you to that person for asking an innocent question!

Focussing the Vision

I have always admired people who seem to have a clear sense of call or vision for their life. Everything in their life seems to point towards the goal. They live with purpose, drive and a sense of satisfaction. I often wonder if the vision before them is as clear as it appears from the outside. I know that this is certainly not the case for me.

I seem to live my life trying to find the right glasses to get my life in focus. Some of you will know that my life after school began in secondary teaching. I justified my missing out on other university options as a sign from God that I was meant to be a teacher. I loved teaching, but after a while the vision became blurry and I knew it was time to search for new lenses to bring some clarity. I began studying theology.

The fog cleared and once again there was a clear way ahead; teaching Faith and Values. But no, a few years later (a long story) I was hit with a strong sense of clarity to explore ordained ministry. I thought I had found that sense of purpose that I had always admired in others. I had found the lens that gave me focus and vision. Hadn't I?

Maybe I have a restless soul. Maybe I'm just a searcher, a seeker. But it seems to me that this process of discernment and call is never ending. Whenever I feel I have made it, I have a clear vision, something changes and it all becomes a blur once more. The scenery is everchanging, perhaps becoming deeper. As it is with our own vision, a change in depth causes our eyes to refocus.

There have already been a few significant, refocusing moments since I entered into ministry. Each has brought with it some chaos, some liberation and some form of transformation in my life.  And so, I find myself once again attempting to refocus, find some clarity and sharpen my vision for what is ahead. Yes, there is part of me that still wishes for more certainty and security. However, I would give all that up for the depth and the refining that comes with continual discernment. So here we go again.

Epiphanies in the Night

Today the Christian church celebrates Epiphany - the time when the maji followed a star to visit the infant Jesus. There is a magic about Epiphany. For me this year, it is about focus, guidance and direction. Quite often, the guiding stars in my life are my dreams. Dreams have a a special language that tell us what is really going on in our life. I have always had very vivid and significant dreams. Some I remember in such detail that I could write a book about them.

How appropriate then, that last night I had a dream that reminded me of my focus and direction for the year ahead. It began with me receiving a written profile from a congregation in the Metropolitan area asking if I would come and be there minister. (My dream didn't follow the correct procedures of the Uniting Church!) This particular congregation was very diverse. It had people of all ages. It had at least two cultural groups worshipping in their own languages. It had mission outreach programmes, playgroups, kids' club, youth groups, young adult groups and much more. The range was exciting and the possibilities endless. 

In the dream, I decided to go to Perth and meet with these people to find out more. It was at this point that I got caught in a rollercoaster ride. It was like a blur. I was totally caught up in the frenzy of meeting new people, talking about the future and the whirlwind of activity that it came as a shock when I discovered that the decision had been made that I was going to move. 

It was like the world stood still, but I was so dizzy. I felt physically sick and had to retreat from the action to find my feet. Once I had regained my composure I returned to the large crowds and gave a passionate speech about God's calling on my life. I explained to the people that I was not meant to be torn in every direction, but to be loyal and focussed on the people of Augusta and Margaret River. Funnily enough, the people were not too disappointed or disgruntled. It was like it had all been a game, a ploy all along. All the bells and whistles were an attempt to distract me and pull me away. All they would do is move on to the next victim.

What a timely reminder to focus and not be distracted. Just to allay any concerns from my congregation members, I am not in any way thinking about moving on. It is easy, however, to become distracted from the task at hand. This dream has come at a time when I am reflecting on the year ahead. What will I focus upon? Where will I direct my energy? What will my priorities be? Maybe in my daily life I can take heed from my Epiphany in the Night and take the time to retreat and reflect first rather than get myself into a dizzy spin.

The Woman at the Well Strikes Again

The biblical story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well seems to crop up over and over in my life. It must have a special meaning for me. I recall being at a ministers' conference in Queensland where we were invited to choose a picture that signified how we felt about our calling to ministry. I was drawn immediately to a painting of a woman looking down a well. I think that could have been the moment when the well became a vital part of who I was and who I was becoming.

About a year later, I chose this very same reading to be part of my ordination service. Two friends acted out the story (see the picture below) and Marion preached on the passage. I don't know that I understood, even then, the impact that this story has had on me. 

About a month ago, I was at another church gathering and a colleague was leading a workshop on the use of the visual in worship. She had various artworks, cloths, and other resources on display, but I was captured by a painting she had of a woman looking down a well. I now realize that this was the same picture that I chose a few years earlier as a symbol of my calling. My colleague must have seen how captivated I was by the print and gifted it to me at the end of the day.

And here it is again! At our Quiet Day on Wednesday Ruth gave us a piece to read from "A Tree Full of Angels" by Macrina Weiderkehr. It was like reading a letter from a familiar friend. I particularly enjoyed the section that reflected on a few verses towards the end of the story where the two are talking about the place of worship. Macrina Weiderkehr says,

"What a revelation! The hour is coming when you will worship out of who you are. The hour is coming when you will realize that the spirit and the truth live within you. You are a portable chapel. Remember the sanctuary within. You carry God wherever you go."

A portable chapel - what a beautiful image. It is in every encounter that we find the divine, not in special places that are to be kept holy.