Words from The Crone

It never ceases to amaze me at the number of people who want to hear about my calling into the priesthood. I often wonder if people ask that of doctors or lawyers or plumbers. It must be that there is a great deal of mystery about being called to serve God in this way, much like the mere mystery of God. What is more of a mystery to me, however, are the variety and diversity of those whom God does call. Having been ordained in my 60th year I really believe my calling is a deep mystery, and one I will never solve. To this day I often wonder why I was called. Others seem to know, but often I do not.

Most mysteries start out innocently enough. The mystery of my call started out with my returning to church after a seven year hiatus. A time when I ignored God and went about my life. My second marriage was to a life-long Episcopalian but he never asked me to return to church. It was something stirring in me that wanted to have this union blessed by the God I had ignored. It was like the atheist or agnostic that comes to God in the face of a tragedy. But my coming back to God was in the face of joy. And so, our civil marriage was blessed in a small Episcopal church.

In 1980 we started attending services and I wept throughout the entire first service. I felt that I had come home and something deep and mysterious was moving within me. For the first time in my life I wanted to “serve” God. And, so it started. Helping out here, being Treasurer, on the vestry, reading, lecturing, whatever I could do. R and I even taught a step-parenting dynamics class for two years because our pastor asked us to do it. Serve, serve, serve.

Somehow through all this serving it just never seemed like it was enough. There must be more I can do I would think. But what? What is it that you want from me God. WHAT? After I had done most everything there was to do in the church I was very frustrated. What could this inner urging, this sense of needing to do more, to serve more mean? And, then I found out.

In 1990 in a small Anglican chapel on the island of St. Bartholomew it happened. R and I had found this small chapel while shopping on a Saturday. We went in to pray as was our custom when we were traveling. And I wept and wept and wept. For an hour I wept and finally I just got up and left. The next morning we went back to that chapel for worship services. They were doing Morning Prayer because they had no priest for communion. During this service I had an overwhelming desire to walk up and preach and celebrate the Eucharist. Me a priest? Could this be?

Overwhelmed at the thought I couldn’t wait for the service to end. We finished our vacation and I went to see my own priest. I told him of the experience and asked him if God could be calling me to be a p-p-p-p-priest (I could hardly utter the word). “Oh, you’ll know someday,” was all he said. What kind of an answer was that? What should I do? I moved to Florida.

To make a long story short, as they say, after many lunches with my mentor and good friend, The Rev. GK, I could no longer keep saying “No, no, no, not me!” Again, in the context of worship as we sang the hymn “Take My Life and Let it be, Consecrated Lord to Thee,” I wept (I was getting good at this weeping thing) and my R practically had to carry me out of the church. I went to my priest and told him that I was ready to explore this mysterious calling to the priesthood. I still wasn’t sure why, but I really wanted to find out and put it to rest once and for all. I was certain that the church would somehow convince me that it was nothing but an old lady’s nightmare.

Hah! In 1996, after a year of discernment, the Commission on Ministry (they advise the bishop on things ordainable) and the Bishop affirmed my calling and sent me off to three years of seminary! Oh – my – God! Was this really happening I often asked myself. Yes – it – was! Three and half years later I was ordained a priest in the Episcopal Church. I was 60 and then some! I pray daily that God continues to know what to do with me! I’ve had a varied and diverse ministry all these years and I no longer get that mysterious urge within me to serve more and more. I finally have that contentment that I am serving God in all God’s mystery as I am called to do. And, I don’t have to figure it out anymore. I leave that to God. Thanks be to God.

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