This
coming weekend marks the eleventh anniversary of my being a priest in the
Church of England.
There
are, I suppose, various tools of my trade.
The
cloak I wear at gravesides. Always borrowed from the church I am serving, not
my own; our lives are borrowed, and will be reclaimed from us when we depart.
The
home communion set I will use this week for the first time in over a Covid
year. A gift to me when I moved on from a previous congregation.
But
perhaps the most significant tool of my trade is, in fact, in no way specific
to being a priest at all. Deep though that goes, I run deeper, and wider, than
the priestly things I do. My pen is the tool that most gives expression to who
I am—even though I write electronically as well as in ink—the human activity I
do, in a priestly way, rather than priestly activity per se.
And
perhaps this is true of many of us. That we are more than specialised selves, but
make our mark, our contribution, with common goods.
A
year ago today, I wrote a Facebook post, on the need to topple idols, that was
shared over 100 times. In another space, I am closing in on 2,500 posts here on
my blog, kairos : kisses. In a sense, the numbers aren’t important,
other than pointing to my lifelong love with words. Here’s to the next chapter.
What
tool of the trade most expresses who you are?
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