Indelible Mark

Sunset

A friend sent me this photo of the St. James parish house as the sun descended behind it.

I know it’s a bit corny to portray sunrise and sunset photos that seem to evoke promise. But this one worked for me.

Maybe because I spent 10 years of my life working out my vocation in that parish. Whether it’s because it was my last parish before I retired, my stake in the place seems the highest of the 4 parishes where I worked.

Or could it be because I was pressed into service after 25 years, Christmas Eve, when the rector tested positive for Covid?

In case you wonder, that’s me on the right. The much younger, much more attractive celebrant is Christina, who gently led me through the paces that had grown rusty while I have languished at the keyboard.

My decision to leave parish work for full time writing still seems like the right one to have made, but the feelings elicited by vesting at the altar reminded me that ordination, like a smallpox vaccination, is an indelible mark.

I don’t think I could have imagined living this long, but today it seems almost normal.

I’m sorry the rector had to miss Christmas Eve, one of the signal days of the church calendar. I remember how exciting it was to see that many people crowding the pews. But it was stirring, if exhausting, to look out on those people, many presumably hoping for an encounter with the Spirit that animates us. Christina, the real priest, provided the young energy such a crowd demands.

So, ok, God was shining on St. James when my friend took the photo. Shining on all of us.