Running Away or Running Towards?

When I was considering ordination in the late sixties, one of my hesitations was the fact that I didn’t consider the Church to be an admirable institution in all respects; in fact, in a number of ways I felt it could be the Church it was originally meant to be, if it got its finger out and sorted out its attitudes, principles, policies and practices. Well, they said, All the more reason to get in there and try to sort it out! And that’s pretty much what I have been trying to do every since, and maybe in a few corners from time to time, I might have had some small successes.

The point is still made to me. Don’t knock it, work to change it. Alongside this, someone comes along from time to time and chides me for complaining, or criticizing. That’s disloyal, they say. Well, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. When I got ordained I didn’t take any vows that prevent me from speaking the truth as I see it. An organization that can’t hear the constructive criticisms of its members is not a strong organization, nor an institution that one can be proud of.

As I prepare to leave, a number of thoughts strike me. First, as I have said before, I’m not sure that a full-time ministry of more years than Our Lord lived on earth is any kind of a good thing. I feel that someone should have taken me to one side and told me this, rather than allowing me to find out for myself, and encouraged me to find some other means of making a living. Also, in fact, had I left ministry at, say, twenty five years, I would have considered the whole thing to be been very successful (whatever we might mean by such a term). As it is, I’m not sure that I could say that the past ten years has been either successful or, really, worth doing in whatever way one can assess such a thing. And also, one person actually suggested that what I contemplate is really “running away” from the issues that are facing and changing the Church. Well am I? Running away? Or running towards?

There is no doubt that the present state I find myself in includes many aspects similar to that in which I spent time considering my vocation originally. Of course, I am a very different person. The circumstances in which this internal dialogue is taking place would have been beyond imagining for the nineteen year old me. There is, however, a very real sense of expectation now, as I contemplate doing and being someone very different. And that is exactly as it was forty years ago.

At our spiritual direction supervision group one of our group, who has already gone through a process that is very similar to my own, described what had happened in Myers Briggs terms; “my shadow capital is exhausted”. This made perfect sense to me. My shadow capital, my life as an introvert with a public role, is almost spent. I have functioned in an extraverted public ministry for a long time, and now it feels that it is time to stop. Stopping is exactly what J did, and now she lives as she chooses, and prefers, and does not feel at all guilty about turning down anything that will involve public speaking, leadership, or large groups (our supervision group is small and we know each other well). She saw what was happening to her not as running away, but as running towards a new future; a future in which she could be herself. Her evident delight in what has happened, and how it has turned out, is encouraging.

As feedback from the diocesan conference continues, most people, it seems, had a good time; some had a great time, especially those, like some from our deanery, who were new to ministry or new to the Church. Good. I’m pleased for them. I still know that I made the right decision for myself; in fact, I am even more confirmed in that decision. I gather that my absence was the cause of comment, and some concern, which is kind of people, I suppose, except that I can imagine what was said, because I’ve heard it said of others in the whispered late-night bar-closed conference conversation - poor old so-and-so, can’t hack it any longer you know; poor whats-is-name, lost his faith, I hear. It is not possible, it seems, that someone might just have decided this sort of event was not for them, or be tired out, or feel that their energies were better spent elsewhere. It has to be a breakdown, a crisis of faith or conscience. Well no, it’s none of those things, just my shadow capital running low. The warning light is flashing on the dashboard.