Sensing Lent 22: The Indiscriminate Sun

The annual Mothering Sunday Service angst draws on apace. 

Tomorrow morning I'll be involved, tentatively, experientially, with the annual drawing together of the conflicting strands of spirituality, theology, psychology and liturgy which is the Church's attempt to straddle the ancient practice of returning to 'Mother Church' (with the attendant family gathering) and the modern supplanting of God, for mere blood ties - thanking mums 'for all they do for us' (which is, at worst, giving mum one day off the washing up, and at best, a large bunch of flowers with no work all day).

As mother and minister, the 'no work all day' thing isn't going to happen for me. Instead there'll be the slightly frazzled collision of priest and mum. The priestly/motherly 'me' will feel the need to portray God as a mother, the need to acknowledge others' sadness associated with perhaps having lost a mother, or not being a mother, or not being reconciled to or physically present with either one's mother or one's own children. 

And that's before we consider the sorrows sometimes associated with being a mother, like those experienced by Mary the mother of Jesus, referred to in at least one of the lectionary readings tomorrow ('sorrow, like a sword, will pierce your own soul'). Oh, great. Add to all that the generation for whom Mothering Sunday is nothing to do with mums, but all to do with Church, who would want to police the use of language thereabouts; and the spiritual atmosphere will be interesting, to say the least.

And then there's the cultural gap between those brought up in the church (like me) for whom Mothering Sunday wouldn't be complete without those posies handed to you by your children in church, and those who will be setting off early in the car to be with their mothers and wouldn't dream of interrupting the day by a visit inside a church building, especially on the morning the clocks go forward, losing you an hour in bed. I have some sympathy.

The warm sun today reminded me of the verse 'he causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good'. God is quite frustrating like that - absolutely no respecter of persons. So for all those people for whom tomorrow is solely about mums and nothing to do with Christianity, there'll be as much blessing as for those who see the two as intimately connected. Just like those who do want a God-angle, those who don't 'feel the need' will enjoy the day sitting down to eat with family, giving flowers and perfume, celebrating love and soaking up sunshine. And it will all be gift; the Giver hidden. Which is cause for a certain humility. The Church no longer owns Mother's Day.

Part time and proud.

A visitor to church expressed surprise that I 'work two days and Sunday duties' and am therefore a 'part time' Curate. And that's what it says in my working agreement. Which I have signed. 

An older gentleman, he was operating on different model of priesthood. I'm afraid he may have gone home from church thinking 'mercenary'. Even the phrase 'I work...', spoken by a member of the clergy, suggests you can turn it on or off. Surely, once a priest always a priest, available to all, at any time, if needed?

Being 'part time' is something I have struggled with on and off since the arrival of three children meant 'working life' would never again be as simple as 'going to work' at 8am and leaving at 5pm to come home.

So from motherhood to priesthood...and comparing the two vocations:

I became a mother. I gave up 'work' to look after my children. I 'worked from home' with no pay and unlimited hours. I retrained as a minister, and now I 'work from home' with no pay and unlimited....no, no, no!!!.....that's where boundaries come in isn't it...?

In the Church we don't call people like me 'part time' because it's discriminatory. Similarly, we're not 'non-stipendiary' because that's definition by a negative. We're supposed to call ourselves 'self supporting ministers'. But I'm not self supporting; I'm supported by a full time wage earner, aka long suffering partner. The acronym LSPS (long suffering partner-supporting) is not going to catch on any time soon. And the only reason I can afford to have no pay is the clergy house thrown in, so the church is supporting me pretty well in one respect.

So I'm quite proud of my 'working agreement' - it says 'two days and Sunday duties', and that's what I try and do. Hours are worked out over several days though; maybe four here, six there, ten there if I have to...whatever's needed to meet the work, which tends to be very un-boundaried in itself (evenings/weekends/working when everyone else is celebrating...) There are morning things, afternoon things, evening things. Not all work uses up the same amount of energy. I do take one whole day off in seven. Properly. A working agreement protects this mother from working 'all hours' for the church. Given the twin vocation thing, doing two jobs could be detrimental to personal health. I've flirted with it once or twice, in very busy periods, and it's mental. Even Jesus took time off didn't he?

And yet...occasional conversations, such as the one above, make me think...can you be too boundaried? It's harder to respond spontaneously when you're 'part time'. Going away is complicated. Saturdays are tricky. Sunday evenings precious and private. If revival broke out I'd have trouble fitting it in. The children say I'm sometimes preoccupied. The house is not very clean. I love combining motherhood and priesthood but it would be easy at the end of the (very long) day, to feel compromised in both.

37. Lois and Eunice - maternal praying power

We hear a lot today about 'Dads and lads', and probably rightly. Sons have a different sort of relationship with dad than with mum; societal/gender factors, nurture/ nature; whatever.

But where Christian faith is concerned, the New Testament church leader, Timothy, had been given a pretty good start by two important females in the family - his mother and his grandmother.

St. Paul pays them tribute when he recalls Timothy's 'sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you' (2 Timothy 1: 5). 

How do we get healthy faith living in us, which goes on living in us? Research suggests that those who have childhood faith are much more likely to have active spiritual lives as adults than those whose childhoods didn't include such exposure.

Timothy was lucky (blessed is probably a better word...) Although his father seems to have been an unbeliever, faith in Jesus Christ was transmitted down the maternal line - twice over. How many other Christian leaders have been similarly blessed by faithful mothers and grandmothers who prayed, lived and witnessed to the saving love of God in Christ so effectively that it would have been difficult for it not to rub off on their children...? (St Augustine for one...)

Now that's what I call parent power.

an oxymoron for starters

Is it sacrilegious to speak of being a part time priest? Isn't the phrase an oxymoron? (Perhaps it is but it is also pleasantly alliterative, so I'll stick with it). But part time priest? Isn't priesthood an all encompassing calling for life which is rightly held up as a serious undertaking which cannot simply be switched off when you've 'done the hours'? Yes - however a 'non-stipendiary' Curacy in the Church of England comes with a certain number of hours per week, and this suits me, because I have another 'job' - and have had for nearly eighteen years - my job is the work of motherhood. I'm saved, if you like, by that little phrase 'part time' - it reminds me that amidst funeral preparation, sermon writing, study, phone calls and PCC meetings, I do need to hold back time and energy for my 'other job', even if it only really begins at 3.30pm with school pick up time.

So are demands of motherhood and priesthood in unredeemable conflict or do they merge beautifully into one joyful holistic experience? The clue is in being rather than doing. Whilst I do often switch off from both the sermon writing and the ironing, what I generally find is that I'm always a priest and always a mother.