It was 39 years ago on Thursday that I was ordained deacon. I don't have any photos of the ordination - people didn't wander round with cell phones back then, nor take their box brownies to significant events, especially in somewhere as intimidating as Christchurch Cathedral, so I found this shot, taken by Clemency, obviously, at about the same time. I'm holding our son Nick, whose birth happened a little later, and was an event even more life changing than the ordination.
Some events make for significant memories - starting school. Graduating from university. First time asking a girl out. First kiss. First job. The day Princess Diana died. The day President Kennedy died. Other events change your very being. Baptism. Marriage. Parenthood. Ordination. I remember two or three days after my ordination, walking through Cathedral Square in my brand new black shirt, black trousers, black shoes and sparkly white collar. I walked past a group of gang members in their patches and tattoos and chains. There were about 8 of them, all big guys, laughing and joking and clowning around. As I walked past they fell silent and looked at the ground, and I walked on, heavy with the realisation of what had been laid on me. There are many times I've wanted to be free of the burden of it; many times I've thought about choices not made and paths not taken. But this is the path I followed from then until now, and it has been rich and full and blessed.
I was ordained alongside John Marcon and Alec Clark. All of us stayed the course: John retired a year or two back and I attend Alec's retirement function this coming Friday. When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die, said Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I guess that night, kneeling in the cathedral with Alan Pyatt's hands on our head we, all three of us died. As we have all done many times since, I suspect. But I for one, and I think probably the others as well, have spent the 39 years since with an abiding sense of resurrection. It has been wonder full. I am so grateful.
Photo: The camera I had back then was a Canon FTb, and I expect it was used for this. Clemency is always better at photographing people than I am and she's framed this one nicely.
Some events make for significant memories - starting school. Graduating from university. First time asking a girl out. First kiss. First job. The day Princess Diana died. The day President Kennedy died. Other events change your very being. Baptism. Marriage. Parenthood. Ordination. I remember two or three days after my ordination, walking through Cathedral Square in my brand new black shirt, black trousers, black shoes and sparkly white collar. I walked past a group of gang members in their patches and tattoos and chains. There were about 8 of them, all big guys, laughing and joking and clowning around. As I walked past they fell silent and looked at the ground, and I walked on, heavy with the realisation of what had been laid on me. There are many times I've wanted to be free of the burden of it; many times I've thought about choices not made and paths not taken. But this is the path I followed from then until now, and it has been rich and full and blessed.
I was ordained alongside John Marcon and Alec Clark. All of us stayed the course: John retired a year or two back and I attend Alec's retirement function this coming Friday. When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die, said Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I guess that night, kneeling in the cathedral with Alan Pyatt's hands on our head we, all three of us died. As we have all done many times since, I suspect. But I for one, and I think probably the others as well, have spent the 39 years since with an abiding sense of resurrection. It has been wonder full. I am so grateful.
Photo: The camera I had back then was a Canon FTb, and I expect it was used for this. Clemency is always better at photographing people than I am and she's framed this one nicely.
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"... Still live in me this loving strife
Of living Death and dying Life.
For while Thou sweetly slayest me
Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee."
Richard Crashaw, 'A Song'