Unfinished business

I went to St John's for the Eucharist this morning. After the service Emma asked if I'd be willing to celebrate next Thursday. Fr Benedict will be there in support, to ensure that I get the new health and safety protocols correct. It'll be the first time since the eighth of March, my first and only Sunday in Ibiza to lead public worship. She also asked if I'd be willing to offer half a dozen written reflections for the St Catherine's Facebook page. On both counts, I was delighted to be asked.

I haven't actively sought to re-insert myself into locum duties locally since my return, being content to be in the congregation and pray, and willing to serve if  asked. In my fiftieth year of active ministry, you might think that I'd miss leading worship and preaching, but I've had no liturgical withdrawal symptoms. Perhaps the experience of being without the perpetual duty of gathering with others for sacramental worship for twenty weeks, having to rely on prayer in solitude has been an unexpected source of grace, teaching me to be less pro-active and more able to wait receptively on God.

As it's the first opportunity I've had to think ahead, I felt emboldened to ask if I could preside at the Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's the weekend of the golden jubilee of my ordination to the priesthood. Last year the congregation made a right fuss of me when I celebrated the start of my public ministry as an ordained deacon. I wasn't thinking of a big celebration for my priesting anniversary. Lots of clergy treat this as more important. I've always rebelled against this. 

I presided at Mass for the first time at the Parish Communion in St Andrew's Penyrheol, a routine Sunday gathering, serving the congregation and God (hopefully) in my new role, representing priesthood a praying community exercises. The public sees any ordained minister of religion as an ambassador of the church, without distinguishing a deacon from a priest. Bishops are recognisable, distinctive because of their historic social status. Accepting the mantle of priesthood is a gift that has meant a lot to me, because of the responsibility it confers to enable a community of worshippers to be more truly itself, with a recognised person trusted to gather, unite and hopefully inspire them in mission.

All ministries are or should be about sharing the Gospel and the teaching of Jesus, making sense of it in every way possible, to win people over to faith in God. That's the reason and purpose for which I was ordained. Mission of one kind or another has been the driving force in my life for the past fifty years, and it seems I'm still learning about its many dimensions as my life is heading towards its conclusion. Regardless of my life's work and its strivings, it'll remain as unfinished business until the end of time. 

After church I popped into Tesco's for some wine. The store's shelving layout is being totally rearranged. It's happened in the past week since I was last in there, and is still a work in progress. When I came out it was pouring with rain, and I got quite wet walking home, even though it was easing off by then. Later in the afternoon, the clouds parted and the sun came and went. It was dry long enough for me to walk in the park before supper however.

Later we watched episodes of 'Call the Midwife' together, a blockbuster series from eight years ago, set in the East End of London sixty years ago. It's drama with a feel-good factor, though not without its tragedies and sorrows. It faithfully portrays the social issues and challenges of that era in an authentic looking environment and makes good watching for people our age who remember those days.