Pre-Ordination Gratitude

It’s hard to believe that in just a few short days I will be ordained a transitional deacon in the Episcopal Church (God willing and the people consenting). I’ve thought about this day for awhile now, looking from afar at a goal that at times seemed so far away. Now I find it is too close, somehow—how did November move so fast? Do I have everything I need?

But what has been most surprising, as the event grows closer, is how much I am realizing that this isn’t about me at all. (Perhaps this should be less surprising, but there it is—I remain a selfish creature at heart!).

I mean, the Bishop will lay hands on me, and I will wear the collar and try to live out my vows. And I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what that specific moment means for me.

But at the same time, I can feel something being constructed that is outside of the me that I have known for 28 years. How to explain it?

I noticed it most acutely this past Sunday, as I sat in the Cathedral, my sponsoring parish. I imagined myself up at the altar as a clergy person, as I will be next Sunday. I imagined all the people who have helped me get to this point, the people who have prayerfully discerned with me, those who have encouraged me and named my call for me. I could feel them joined around that altar, excited for a moment that they too had been waiting for, praying for.

I remembered Reyna in housekeeping, who was one of the first to say “I know that one day you’ll be at the altar—don’t ever give up.” I remembered walking up to Rev. Jan Cope when I didn’t know a soul in the Episcopal Church, and saying “I want to learn more about the Episcopal Church,” and how she kindly met with me countless times over the next few years. I remembered the 20s & 30s group, who were my first adult church community and who loved and laughed with me. I remembered my Cathedral discernment committee, who poured over so many iterations of essays and were somehow still excited about my call by the end of it all. I remembered sitting with Rev. Gina Campbell in Café Deluxe when she asked if I wanted to start officiating Evensong at the Cathedral and when she said she could see God’s call on my life. I remembered all those who trusted me with liturgical responsibilities before I really knew how to ask for them.

Ordination is ontological change, a change of one’s being & existence, but not primarily of myself as an individual. Instead it feels that the ontological change is of the “me” that is seen and known by others; the “me” that is a collection of other people’s perceptions of me, and my role to them. The change is within the community, first and foremost, and then that change is reflected onto me.

The people who look at me as a clergy person ordain me, just as the hands of the Bishop officially ordain me into the Church Universal. The community builds my credentials more than any gestures on my part do. The people of God change when someone is ordained, and because of it, the person who is ordained is opened up to a new path. But I feel so aware at this moment that this path is only open to me because people have believed and continue to believe in me. And for that, I have no words of thanks deep enough to express my gratitude.  There is no ordination without a community, broken and imperfect as we all are, and I thank God for all the communities who love me so imperfectly and beautifully.

To each of you who has been a part of ordaining me, I can only say…Thank you. This Saturday is as much about your faithfulness and prayer as anything. To Wesley Seminary (and the Urban Fellows program in particular), the Cathedral, St. Alban’s, St. Margaret’s, St. Paul’s Rock Creek, Church of the Epiphany, the Diocese of Washington, CIEE-Thailand, Wofford College, Glendale, Northeast Presbyterian Church, and all my wonderful friends (Hannah, you're in this category ok?) and family, Mom and Bob…Thank you. And to those I didn’t name here, but who have been pivotal in my life… Thank you.

And brothers and sisters, please— keep looking. The God we serve is up to all sorts of mischief in our midst. You never know when that clueless person at coffee hour has a call they can’t even see yet. You never know when your words of encouragement to someone change their path forever. Your naming of God’s work in someone’s life may be the pivot point which aligns all God has been preparing for them. Be bold, be loving, and be attentive. Our world is filled with too much beauty, pain, and holiness for us not to show up.