Happy Ordination Anniversary to Me
There are actually greeting cards for this sort of thing
Yesterday was my sixth ordination anniversary. It’s always a funny anniversary, because it’s a combination of very meaningful decisions and typical church bureaucracy. I was ordained the day before I started work at my current church, South Haven. But I had being working in a pastoral capacity at at PC(USA) congregation for the two previous years. This, for ordination in the UCC, didn’t count as an ordainable call. Or at least not without extra work that I didn’t think made sense considering I was in an interim position.
All to say, ordination marked a particular moment within a particular denomination, but didn’t necessarily do a good job marking the fullness of my ministry. I often have a difficult time synthesizing the spiritual height ordination seeks to reach alongside the odd and confusing work of church systems and committees.
In perfect timing, I attended an ordination yesterday giving me plenty of time to think about all these things. My spouse Josh went along with me. We don’t often get to attend church services together, so I made the decision to not robe or process, but instead just sit with him.
What I loved about this service is how when it came time for the laying on of hands, where ordained clergy are often invited forward to join in, the bulletin had some very specific instructions. All faith leaders were welcome it said. You do not have to be robed or dressed up to participate it said. Join no matter your religious tradition it said. And so, I got to participate, in my “normal” clothes, being able to sit with my spouse, being able to look just like me, and that was enough.1
It’s not the robe or stole for me. It’s especially not a thought of elevating clergy about others. But there was something, that Holy Spirit zap, I felt when participating in this moment.
Where I finding meaning is in the power in public proclamations of identity. We create community accountability in these moments. Like a wedding ceremony, and ordination puts you out there in front of friends and family and says this is who I am and what I’m committing to. Our identities matter deeply.
When I think of my own ordination day I was certainly communicating specifics about who I am. I had my best friend preach, and she wasn’t yet ordained as she was in the midst of her own ordination limbo. I didn’t kneel for the laying on of hands because as a woman surrounded by a bunch of men I wanted to stand as a peer. My family offered a bunch of music. If it was publicly communicating who I was going to be as a pastor I think it did a pretty good job.
In honor of the anniversary I wore my red stole at my usual Sunday morning service and my congregation was appropriately kind and celebratory of the anniversary. I received kind text messages from my siblings (organized by my older sister Charity who reminded everyone) and it was good to be remembered. But now it’s Monday.
I’m back to work and it’s not just church work. It’s special to remember a unique and public part of my vocation. But there are students to teach, and a house to tidy, and newsletters to write, and a full life to live. Thanks be to God for public and private callings and celebrating of it all.
What I’m reading
I just devoured a must read memoir by Saeed Jones called How We Fight for Our Lives. I love listening to Saeed on Vibe Check and reading his poetry, so I wasn’t surprised that I loved this book. But I don’t think I was prepared for the emotional punch it was. I’ll just quote the New York Times Book Review that calls it a “moving, bracingly honest memoir.” Yes, yes, yes.
What I’m baking
I’m a person who buys bananas just so I have bananas for baking in two weeks. But then I’m constantly in need of recipes that call for different amounts of bananas. In particular, there is the elusive one banana recipe. Friends, I have found it. A one banana, vegan cookie recipe that can also easily be made gluten-free. It is also a cookie I would give to my mom, which basically means its sweet and delicious enough to just call it a cookie, not some kind of weird treat that is masquerading as a cookie. I left out the walnuts and swapped gluten free flour in, but make changes at your own risk. You can find the recipe for Banana Everything Cookies here.
This was maybe though my second favorite part of the service, because I couldn’t help but just love that one of the hymn tunes used was RESIGNATION. Irony?
Happy ordiversary! What a great way to spend the day.