Month: June 2025

Yesterday was the 39th anniversary* of my ordination as deacon (fr. Greek diakonos, a servant, a menial, sometimes a messenger) in the Diocese of Pittsburgh of the Episcopal Church, the US branch office of the Church of England. Since then, I’ve served in seven other dioceses, three provinces (US, Scotland, England), and I’ll skip over how many parishes and congregations. And as a teacher in theological institutions…

A ‘deacon’, in Anglican polity, is an order proper unto itself and an order that affords stepwise growth in ministry toward ordination to the priesthood. People get snappish about whether that’s the way things ought to be, or whether ordinands should be made priests directly on the end of their training. I respect the vocation of deacons who understand their calling to focus strictly on diaconal ministry; at the same time, I wouldn’t want us to ordain clergy to priestly orders who had never spent time as a deacon. In many respects, diaconal service comprises the greatest part of a priest’s ministry: pastoral care, visiting, bringing the sacrament to people who can’t get to church, proclaiming the faith, cooperating with the bishop, paperwork and committee meetings. Likewise, a teacher’s work partakes of the diaconal — a lot of pastoral care (conducting lectures and seminars with a view to the well-being and success, particularly, of weaker students or students whose situations and constitution make them less than fully receptive to learning, as well as consolation, counsel, guidance in one’s office). I hesitate to make big public pronouncements about my identity ‘as a deacon’ ’cos that tends to function as a kind of self-aggrandising humility; no, I’m a priest and a deacon, and the ‘priest’ part plays a more prominent public role most of the time, and I thank God for that calling.

But I am thankful for thirty-nine years of serving in diaconal ways, maybe even more thankful, since that service often flies under the radar. ‘Have a tissue, that’s why they’re sitting there.’ ‘May I try to explain it again?’ ‘I’m glad you have time for me this morning; thank you for the tea and biscuits.’ ‘Well, someone has to do it.’ And I give thanks for the colleagues, friends, students, congregants, care home residents, bishops, committees, and everyone else who received and supported my ministry. As always, I know keenly that I could have served more fully, more diligently, and I don’t presume on your forgiveness; I try to try harder, and sometimes I do better.

It appertaineth to the office of a Deacon, in the Church where he shall be appointed to serve, to assist the Priest in Divine Service, and specially when he ministereth the holy Communion, and to help him in the distribution thereof, and to read holy Scriptures and Homilies in the Church; and to instruct the youth in the Catechism; in the absence of the Priest to baptize infants; and to preach, if he be admitted thereto by the Bishop. And furthermore, it is his office, where provision is so made, to search for the sick, poor, and impotent people of the Parish, to intimate their estates, names, and places where they dwell, unto the Curate, that by his exhortation they may be relieved with the alms of the Parishioners, or others. Will you do this gladly and willingly?

I will so do, by the help of God.

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* A pretty awkward number, isn’t it? I mean, 3 x 13 is good, but really you can tell just by looking that it wants to rush ahead to forty.

Another rainy morning when I got up, so I didn’t run again. This morning has to focus on wrapping up tomorrow’s sermon; I’d like to squeeze in a run sometime, but it sounds as though this interval this morning will be the only rain-free point in the day.

Margaret’s spending another day at an ethics/political theology conference at Oxford, so I’m caring for the dogs. She’s having a great time; when academic minds spend time together, great things happen, and she hasn’t had as many opportunities to benefit from the atmospheric effects, the ecological rewards of Oxford life as would have been most encouraging for her — I’m glad she’s having some of that now.

Back on duty today, but no morning run (as it was raining). Coffee, fruit, very welcome hot shower, Morning Prayer, coffee and toast, sermon writing, reading, paper-editing. And I’m girding myself for travel again; being there will be lovely, but all the to-ing and fro-ing… ‘of making many visits there is no end, and much plane travel is a weariness of the flesh.’

Lots of time at prayer, a significant nap, some reading. Will update later — time for the Office of Readings and Lauds.

I have for a long time been proud of the fact that I haven’t broken the screen on any of my successive phones, for fifteen or more years — until this morning. Technically, I didn’t break it; my iPad, which fell onto the phone, broke the screen. But I won’t try to didge accountability, since I put the phone onto the iPad, and set the alalrm that made the phone vibrate and move, which led it to all off the bureau, which (in moving and vibrating) induced the tablet to slide off the table and fall onto the phone, corner pointed down, so as break the glass and strategically to disable the front camera (hence also FaceID).

No run this morning — I woke up early enough to squeeze one in, but I hadn’t planned to take one and it felt imprudent to change plans on the spot — but packing the last few items to prepare for the Sodality of Mary’s annual retreat. I hope to have time to nap between prayers and talks, perhaps even to sit and read without interruption (from outside or from internal failure to focus). I do appreciate train travel, so that’s a welcome diversion, and I’ll still have to be thinking about a Pentecost sermon. Good weather today, anyway.

Good, comfortable run this morning — the way it ought to be. Coffee and fruit, Morning Prayer at home, clean up, fine-tune the sermon over coffee and toast, then up to St Nic’s for Mattins. This afternoon I’ll pack for the retreat. (Whoops! — Thanks to blogging this, I realised that I should forward my rail details to Margaret — but I don’t see any, such that I suspect the online booking didn’t go through. Must check.)

Update: Good thjing I thought of this, because Southeastern Rail sent my ticket confirmation and itinerary to an entirely unpredictable email address, which only became clear after a long-ish phone conversation first with Great Western Rail, then Southeastern. All sorted, all’s well that ends well.

Then Margaret asked about my sermon, which I opened and sent to her, but which (I noticed) needed massive editing, which I wouldn’t have noticed had she not asked about it.

That kind of morning.