Maybe you've heard the story, my bit anyway where on Oct 20, 2023 at 9:16 AM Archdeacon Peggy sent me an email that asked "So.... What would you think about discerning for ordination as a deacon?" And I'm happy to say the rest is history. Well, I can easily say that now but looking back there were actually a great many of hills to climb, inside and outside of myself.
Everything I did after that email required one main ingredient from all of us who were involved in the long process, and that was faith. Faith that one day, I would be a deacon, or that I would not be a deacon, whichever way it was supposed to be, but faith that we would get through the process.
A very little bit like when Joseph and Mary answered 'yes, use me as you see fit, we are here to serve' - and a bit like the same feeling we all sometimes get when we step into something new and move forward blindly, with that invisible joy pulling us towards the unknown, sort of like leaving for a vacation! But even with the joy at hand, or the promise of what's to come, it's a bit scary, and plenty of faith is required.
If we look closely though, there are signposts. Some are seen faintly in the distance, and some show up as bright neon lights, or maybe there is even a trail of breadcrumbs left by others on the deacon's path, some left on purpose, some dropped by chance. Like the one I found on the day I sat down to write this sermon. I went over all the readings and there before me on the page was my very favourite Psalm, Pslam 84. Psalm 84 is one that Deacon Elizabeth introduced me to back in 2024, because a painting I had made, brought it to her mind:
Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.[c]
Thank you deacon Elizabeth - this signpost has pulled me through a lot, and helps me always remember to have faith.
(And once, when everybody was talking about their favourite Psalms, I didn't have one, and now I do, so I can join in the conversation. Thank you for that too!)
Duncan Howell, a professor of Hebrew studies at Campbellsville University in Kentucky, says:
"Psalm 84 is classified as a pilgrimage psalm, sung as praise by those who travelled to Jerusalem to worship. Such journeys were often beset with hardship as the traveler moved through the wilderness over great distances in order to reach Jerusalem"
I think this is very fitting for a deacon's journey, or at least my deacon's journey.
And as I said, there are always signposts if we are open to the process, hope in small things when you feel you can't go on. It might be in the form of a kind word, or a song Lynley wrote, it might be something I saw or read, a conversation, an email, or a connection with nature, my pond filling up for the first time and the joy knowing all winter long I would have a waterfall in my back yard, I mean, who can argue with that!
Or it may have been in the body of a person, like Simeon welcoming the Holy family at the temple, only in my case it was in the form of a 93 year old nun and retired deacon, (in fact the first deacon in these parts!) Sister Mary Christian, who has become such a good friend, walking alongside me over these last few months of my discernment process.
The writing of Psalm 84 is attributed to the sons of Korah, (who you can read more about in Numbers 16-17) whose 'work centered on daily service to the Lord and opening the doors for others to join in the worship.' How further fitting to describe Sister Mary, and the work of a deacon in general. Early on I heard somebody describe being a deacon as one who held the church door wide open, welcoming people in and sending them out to share the Good News where they went, as well as bringing information from the outside in and then taking it back out into the world.
Professor Bellinger at Baylor explains further that 'Psalm 84 looks forward to arriving at the temple and to rejoicing in God’s presence in that sacred place.' And perhaps that's why I'm so attached to it. The simple beauty of arriving at your longed-for and sometimes hard-fought-for destination, a place where every single part of creation is welcome, a place where you know you are home.
I've learned so much on this journey to the diaconate and a few things stand out, which I can offer to you if you are considering a journey like this yourself: well the first I already knew, I am an impatient person and I need to be in control of my life, and second, the length of time required for the process is simply, the length of time required for the process. Moving to God's tempo is a requirement to actually be able to see the signs, find the breadcrumbs, and develop the faith and relationships required - here I've learned that I can't possibly be in control of all these things, and I know that I shouldn't be, how could I be? Talk about mission impossible, no matter how many helicopters I swung from or good deeds I did - these do not add up to a tidy sum that says, 'you're ready'! When I prayed for a timeframe to see if it would fit into my calendar, I'm sure I could hear God laughing and instead asking me 'how long is a piece of string?'
On this deacon's day, I hope you will join me in being grateful for deacons everywhere, those who hold doors open, those who provide trails and signs, and those who walk beside us, share stories and give practical advice, like what to wear under hot vestments!
Like so many called to service, in the beginning I thought, wow, I am so different from everybody I see around me, how can I fit into this role? But in the end, I found that everybody who was on the journey with me, all of you, taught me that it is because I am unique that I am here. We all have a place, reserved just for us.
Side note: Please talk to Archdeacon Peggy if you think you may also feel a call to this journey, and I'll walk beside you too.
Amen