I posted a reflection several weeks ago on where I found myself about one year after stepping out of professional ministry. Not much has changed in those weeks (except for being perpetually sick with one respiratory illness or another, culminating in a bout with COVID which wasn't physically terrible but certainly logistically so), but I feel the need to be more intentional about stepping into vocation in this season and share more concretely how being nap-trapped, washing endless dishes, and herding chickens and children, is a holy incarnation of the ordained life for me right now.
For awhile I've been drawn to the work of David Gate; he posts his poems on Instagram and many are hand-typed on a typewriter for purchase. I finally decided to mark a few I wanted hard copies of for Christmas and I got both this past week. I find that right now these two poems are a helpful anchor for my vocation and identity right now as a clergy person not in professional ministry. Priesthood
and the dishes
and meal preparation
are not tasks of the mundane
because being clothed
and clean
and fed
declares the dignity
of human life
and nurtures us
into new days
into new eras
they are not mundane, no
they are the rituals of care
of my home, where bread
pans soak & milk bottles
swill, where we wash paint pots
& brushes in the aftermath
of craft, where salad leaves
rinse to be rid of bugs & soil
where I clean the abrasions
of my working hands & all the blood
from the little cuts of constant use
in repetition & never-ending chore
I come to these sacred waters
daily to baptize the entirety of my holy life
First of all, I love these poems because they have a monastic feel to them. The work of the everyday, the seemingly endless cycle of cleaning and cooking, the rhythm of slowing down and tending to the needs of the present, is a holy act of hospitality. I've always been drawn to the monastic rhythm of work and prayer, and there's something compelling about being in relationship with a community of people who share that way of life. Whether that kind of neomonastic community will spring up here or not is not on the horizon yet, but it's a reminder that this path is a different witness than that of faith organized around a congregation.
Secondly, these poems remind me of the Greek word kenosis, which roughly translates as emptying out. It's used in the letter to the church at Philippi where Paul quotes one of the earliest Christian hymns, where he refers to Jesus as pouring himself out and becoming human. To me, it is this lovely image of downward mobility, that God more often than not is found in the mundane places. God is found in humility and service. God is found within as our ego loses control of our truest self. God dwells down and within; we don't have to reach for it as the holy is already there. For me, ordination is a commitment to intentionally and publicly live in this set apart way; it is not an elevated status but rather one that drives you into the deepest depths of self on the path of following Jesus.
I plan on framing these prints and placing them on the side of my cabinets over the kitchen sink, which is a place I spend an inordinate amount of time. Having these physical reminders will be helpful for my calling in this season (also these two poems need to be added to the collection...too many of them actually!) Focus on the present needs, tend to the rhythm of work and prayer, and give thanks for the mundane acts of love and care.
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| Bonus Picture of my Kitchen Sink |
