PANIC STATIONS

I’ve just returned from leading a retreat for deacons who are going to be ordained, in a northern diocese.  The retreat takes the best part of a week, and then the bishop invited me to preach in the cathedral at their ordination.

I almost had a heart attack.  I’d never done anything like this before.  How?  What??  For two pins I would have said No, except I’m aware that this is not the first time God has urged me into doing something I can’t do.

I had several weeks of panicking.  Usually my creative instinct comes to my rescue, but I really didn’t know where to start, or what was expected, or what approach I should take for the retreat, or how long the talks should be … and as for the sermon …

I made the bishop’s secretary promise she would stand behind the pillar nearest the pulpit, with a large gin.

I was also told that the ordinands had all been given my book to read, Deacon by Design.

That made things worse.  ‘They already know everything!’ I wailed to Hub.  ‘Now what am I going to find to talk about??’

In fact, I was panicking so much I just couldn’t start.  I didn’t know how.  Of course I prayed – lots – but every time I thought about it I had kittens.  In the end, God seemed to tell me to stop praying so much and get something down on paper.

It didn’t help that the retreat was at the end of August, and we had two lots of family staying for 8 days each during August, which was wonderful, but put a lot of pressure on preparation time.  I was adamant that they came first.  But if there’s ‘another time’, I shall space things out more in the future to preserve my sanity, not to mention my energy levels!

Eventually I started writing something.  And then I had the good sense to zoom with close friends who are retired from a lifetime of leading retreats, and ask for some wisdom and good practice.  Honestly.  Why on earth didn’t I do that before??  They reminded me that this was not about ‘me performing’ but about sharing Jesus with fellow-believers.  Why on earth wouldn’t I want to do that? I calmed down.  A bit.

Thus equipped, I sallied north.  It was a full schedule, with two talks and three services each day, so I was ‘on duty’ from 8am to 9pm when we said Compline together.

Then the sermon … although funnily enough, probably because I have been preaching for 30 years (remember that, Gill?!) and because I had confidence in my material, I was scared but not as scared as I expected to be.  I even managed to start with a joke.

Deacons after their ordination.  The cross-body stole denotes that they are deacons.  Priests’ stoles go round the neck with the ends hanging down.  Deacons’ stoles denote the towel that Jesus used to wash his disciples’ feet, and is a reminder of our call to a heart of service of others.

I’m left still with a feeling of great inadequacy, but also of great privilege, to be able to share with those ordinands their adventures with God, to reflect on what it means to be a deacon in daily life, and to cheer them on their way.

(Image from exeter-cathedral.org.uk)