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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