I sat by the river at The Old Thameside Inn today.
It sits on the Thames by Southwark Cathedral, and it was the
place where I celebrated my Ordination at Southwark Cathedral over 20 years
ago.
As I sat there, it began to dawn on me that my ordination
was at this time of the year – and I looked up a calendar for 1991 to find that
on this day, 23 years ago, I went to the Cathedral for my ordination rehearsal before
setting off for my pre-ordination retreat.
My wife and I actually dropped into the Old Thameside Inn that day, on
the way to the Cathedral, to check that everything was ready for the celebration! As I no longer live in London and can’t
remember how many years it is since I last visited that pub, the coincidence
was striking.
I began to reflect on the last 23 years.
When I was ordained I was full of hope and purpose. Ready for whatever God had for me. Always eager for the next challenge!
Today, although still hopeful and still faithful, I can’t
help but think that some of the challenges of the last 23 years have taken the edge
off the enthusiasm. L
Sometimes ministry is not as glamorous,
and not as successful as we would like, and over the years I have found myself
struggling against all kinds of preconceptions, vested interests and prejudice
in following my vocation to ministry.
From the Octavia Hill Estates, to the Church of England’s
bias to the middle classes, to the utterly draining preoccupation with old
listed buildings, and more recently, the struggle for dignity and acceptance
for LGBT people in church – I seem to have got myself involved in more than my
fair share of controversial issues.
Sometimes it has felt more like wading through thigh-high mud than living
‘life in all its fullness’.
At various times over the last 23 years, I have been accused
of undermining the church, being a false prophet, working for the devil, as well
as being racist, dishonest and homophobic – all while trying to serve God as
best as I can! I remember one church
member shouting at me for going ‘AWOL’ because I had gone to sit at my wife’s
bedside in hospital when she was facing the very real possibility of death. Things like that stick in your heart and
mind.
As I sat at by the river at the Old Thameside Inn, the tide
was coming in on the Thames and the current was strong. I looked up and saw an old tug towing two
garbage barges against the flow of the tide.
It was making slow progress downstream despite the best efforts of the
tug. But more than that, the bows of heavy
rectangular barges were churning up the water of the river so much that it was
almost breaking over the sides. There was a cost and a risk to pushing against
the tide, and in that struggle I saw a parable.
Amidst the glamour of the other river boats, this old tug
was plodding downstream, taking away the crap, fighting against the tide. Sometimes ministry is like that too.
We all want to be successful – no matter how
pious we pretend to be. We want everyone
to like us. We want to see our achievements
and hope that one day we will be able to sit back and enjoy the fruits of our
ministry.
Sometimes however, ministry is more about dealing with the crap
and being prepared to churn things up in the process.
The prophets of the Old Testament knew this, and often paid
a much higher price than we do today. When
the Ezekiel was called, God said to him, “I not sending you to people of
strange languages – they would listen to you.
Rather I am sending you to your own people – and they will not listen to
you.” (Ezekiel 2 & 3 - my paraphrase).
So 23 years on from my ordination, I am encouraged. Without people ready to challenge ‘churchy’ preconceptions,
prejudice and wrong priorities, the rubbish in the Church will simply grow, and
we all know what happens when the garbage piles up – it begins to stink.
So to all my fellow old tugs out there – I salute you – and look
forward with you to chugging away against the flow for the next 23 years, no
matter how much it churns up the water, and however long it takes.