These Views from the Vicarage appear monthly in the church magazine
Looking back ...
Next month I celebrate the twenty fifth anniversary of my ordination as a priest. Apart from the service itself, in Canterbury Cathedral, which remains a vivid memory, this anniversary gives rise to many other recollections, both before and since. I came late to higher education and to my vocation, being thirty four when I got to university and forty by the time I was priested. Each was a struggle to achieve, but I was utterly convinced of God’s call, a conviction which has never left me since. I knew I had to do the very best I could to prepare thoroughly for everything that would come my way as a result. At about the same time I met my wife, fell in love and got married, and a year after my ordination, to the day, our son Edward was born. You might think that, after such a delayed start, I was a man in a hurry!
Significant dates like this prompt a looking back. In twenty five years there have been both happy and sad times, personally and professionally, which have gone hand-in-hand with feelings of achievement as well as disappointment, but that, as they say, is life. I started ordained ministry in a very middle class suburban parish in Croydon, South London, at that time still in the Diocese of Canterbury, where church life flourished in a way I have not met since. It was a busy, demanding parish, geographically compact, with most of the regulars living within five minutes walk of the church. An outstanding choral tradition, together with high standards of worship and pastoral care, and lots of social activity, provided continuity with my previous experience as a layman and student. Thanks to that, I had a very good start and learnt a great deal which has stood me in good stead ever since. And we made and kept a host of friends, many of whom are still in touch.
My subsequent appointments, rural incumbencies in Notts and Lincs, although very different, continued the process of my priestly formation. In spite of the many ups-and-downs of church life ‘at the coal face’, I am even more convinced now that there is no greater or more fulfilling calling than being a parish priest. The huge privilege of leading worship, of celebrating Mass and administering the Sacraments, of teaching the young, of caring for people pastorally and helping to nurture their faith, of being alongside them both to rejoice and to weep, of sharing in their private fears and public hopes - all this is the greatest and most humbling privilege it is possible for any man to have. It is at times overwhelming, but through the whirlwind of human experience and emotion comes that ever building up and affirming still small voice of Calm. In that is the repeated reassurance that the call remains unchanged and the need is to trust, obey, and go on.
None of this can be done in isolation. Priestly ministry is a corporate activity, shared with others and exercised with and on behalf of the Bishop, who is the successor of the apostles in his diocese or area. Over the years I have been fortunate to know and be friends with some truly outstanding clergy, whose personal holiness and wisdom have left an indelible mark on me as both priest and person. I think of dear Archbishop Robert Runcie, who ordained me as both deacon and priest, a lovely man in every way, who never lost his sense of humour or the common touch and, above all, knew his clergy and was known and loved by them in return. Of the towering figure of Michael Ramsey, lumbering around the Canterbury Precincts, and of Bishop Anthony Tremlett of Dover, who in spite of his gruff exterior, cared deeply and did a great deal to encourage a rather naive young man’s sense of vocation. Of Donald Allchin and Derek Ingram Hill, two Canterbury Canons, who put up with the same youngster’s occasional importunities and never failed to give encouragement and good advice. There are so many others, including a whole host of dedicated laypeople, quietly living out the Christian life in largely unremarkable circumstances. I could go on at great length, but that might be a tad tedious! Let me just pay one final tribute to the man who more than anyone else was responsible, humanly speaking, for inspiring the sense of call I had all those years ago. John Francis Hough, Vicar of Folkestone and Canon of Canterbury, who prepared me for confirmation fifty years ago and twenty five years later preached at my First Mass in St Mildred’s, Addiscombe, was a seminal influence and example. I shall never forget him, sadly dead these twelve years. He epitomised for me everything that is noble and good in the parish clergy of the Church of England. The debt I owe to him is incalculable and I thank God in all my remembrance of him.
And so, looking back, I also look forward in faith, hope and joy to the next phase of priestly service. For all that has been, Thanks: for all that shall be, Yes!
Fr Tony