OK, so last night's post was feeble but it came at the end of a long day.
More seriously... one part of yesterday was presiding at a said eucharist, on the occasion of the Feast of Saint Nicholas. I cribbed freely from, with attribution, Mike Kinman's piece from Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation, WWSND? What would Saint Nicholas do? There were only six of us; two came forward for anointing and laying on of hands. I could have used the same myself but it wasn't the time to ask someone to anoint me when I didn't know if the person has ever done it before.
I invited the woman who will serve as transitional deacon at the parish, starting in Epiphany, to serve last night, as a simple debut. I haven't really thought of this as your typical curate position insofar as the person lives over 40 miles away and with gasoline where it is, it is not good stewardship to have her make multiple trips back and forth.
In any event, she did all those deacon things -- proclaim the gospel, introduce the prayers of the people, set the table, do post-communion ablutions and dismiss the congregation. She wore the stole that I would have under the chasuble, because the church doesn't have a matching stole. I figure I can wear the chasuble sans stole (or put on some other unmatching stole) and have her wear the one that goes with it.
As I listened to her read the gospel, I had a pang. Later, I stood by her, guiding her on what to do, not interjecting too much my particular manies (manias, in French), but giving her general directions, and watching her take apart the veiled chalice, unfold the corporal, spread it out, set the chalice and paten on it, get enough wafers and then pour enough wine and water, I had another pang. And the last pang came with the post-communion ablutions and dismissal.
I realised that for a season, I won't be doing those things that I have done so naturally and automatically for over 13 years. I realised that I LIKE setting the table, doing it with care, consistently, neatly, and most of all, with love... but for the time that the parish has a deacon, there will be fewer things I do on a Sunday morning. I won't get to stand in the middle of our congregation and hear them sing the last verse to the sequence hymn.
It's selfish, perhaps, but the familiarity of doing these things has grown on me because I am the only clergy person in this congregation and we haven't had a deacon up until this point in time.
At the same time, I think it is so important for the congregation to see on a regular basis the ministry of a deacon.
Now, here's where I am really going to get into troubled waters. I am one of those aardvarks who appreciated her time as a transitional deacon (seven months), who felt that that time informed and continues to influence my life as a priest. I found the first ordination, that of the diaconate, was the crossing of the Rubicon, the time when I began to lose the freedom that a baptised person has. By the time I was ordained priest, I had dealt with the identity change that comes with wearing weird clothing (Barbara Brown Taylor in her Leaving Church, is absolutely obsessed with clericals, it would seem), and assuming an honorific title. (Nowadays, I live in a place where, in the wintertime, my uniform is a turtleneck most of the time but in my former diocese one didn't go out of the house unless dressed in black, and I mean, black clericals.)
I worked with an Anglo Catholic priest who was incredibly generous in sharing with me everything she knew. At the same time, she was clear that my six-seven months qua deacon were that. I was not going to act as a quasi-priest. We did not begin to think about 'practise celebrating' until about two weeks before my ordination. Instead, she had me do what deacons do -- find some outreach (that was easy because I was also working at the Seamen's Church Institute of New York and New Jersey), visit the sick, etc. I loved that time, as difficult as it was, living in a place where I was a total alien class-wise and ethnic background-wise.
I know that vocational deacons and many others want to have direct ordination and when the day comes that the church changes our canons, I will be fine with it. But at least for me, that time as a transitional deacon, was important. For that reason, I will try to do likewise for the woman who will be walking with our congregation for a season.
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