Vocation: Embarrassment

I was ordained on the Feast of St. Luke, October 18, 1986, in The Episcopal Church of St. Ann, Lowell, MA, "The Mill Girl Church."

I am the daughter of a Fall River Mill Girl and granddaughter of a woman who was part of the first wave of Portuguese immigrants to come to this country via Boston to be a domestic for the Beacon Hill elite.

My paternal grandparents were poor farmers from the Azores. My maternal grandfather was a Portuguese fisherman and sailor. My maternal grandmother was the seventh child and only daughter of poor farmers in a small village outside of Lisbon who came to this country - alone - after her mother died when she was 13 years old.

All of my aunts and uncles worked in the textile mills of Fall River. One of my uncles died at the age of 21, leaving a wife and a young son, in an explosion in one of the mills, which were notoriously unsafe. Because of that horrific and tragic loss, all of my aunts and uncles were involved, in one manner or another, in labor union organizing.

I have 'feisty' and 'justice' and 'independence' encoded in my DNA.

The Rt. Rev'd Frederick Barton Wolf, then recently retired bishop of Maine (now gone on to glory), ordained me for Bishop Chalfante, who "allowed" my ordination but would not ordain me himself because he said, "the church has not spoken clearly on this issue."

To which a member of The Cathedral of St. Luke in Portland and my sponsoring congregation responded, "Bishop, with all due respect, Elizabeth is not an 'issue', she is a person we have been deeply persuaded is called by God to be a priest in the church."

The bishop then demurred, adding, "I just fear she will be an embarrassment to the church." As some of you may know, those words would come back to personally haunt him with a most desperate irony.

Ms. Conroy and I recently marked 31 years of faithful, monogamous partnered life, sharing the joys and responsibilities of six children and four grandchildren. We live in the serious suburbs where we mow the lawn, rake the leaves, pay taxes and try to help our neighbors.

We contribute to our community and serve the church in a variety of ways - Ms. Conroy as a volunteer EMT, Parish Nurse, and member of the Outreach Committee and Parish Choir. I serve as rector of a parish, president of the Standing Committee, member of the Women's Commission and president of the Episcopal Women's Caucus, in addition to being a member of the Steering Committee of Claiming The Blessing.

I have tried very hard not to be an embarrassment to the church. I fear the church has not returned the favor.

When the church has "erred and strayed" from the gospel, I have called her to repent and return. I have done that boldly and with great confidence that Jesus would have me do nothing less. Indeed, I have come to understand that part of my vocation is to ask the uncomfortable questions, and raise the disturbing issues.

I try to speak the truth as I know it in love, with as much clarity and authenticity I have in my body and soul. This means that I have been an annoyance to some and an embarrassment to others. In those moments, some have told me that they wish I could be 'nicer', reminding me that sugar attracts more flies than vinegar.

Well, I ask, what is a body to do when one has set out the sugar but notes that all it has accomplished is to draw flies? Or, that the lumps of sugar are now being used as weapons, and that all of this thwarts the progress of the work of the gospel?

Nice? Okay. I can be nice, and I am, most of the time. After all, I am an Anglican. I know how to behave in social settings. I even know appropriate table etiquette in the most formal of occasions.

But, give me real. As Harvey Guthrie, then Dean of the Episcopal Divinity School, said to me at the start of my admission interview, "We don't have much time. You have important questions to ask about how this school will support you in your vocational aspirations and goals. I have important questions to ask you about how your diocese and your bishop - who has, since 1974, refused to send seminarians here - will support you in your vocation. The world is too dark and broken a place for us to play polite games with each other. So, let's get on with it, shall we?"

Give me truth and honesty, integrity and authenticity. Even when we don't understand. Even when we fundamentally disagree. Even when that makes you so angry with me you want to throttle me - but instead, you slip right into all of your unfinished business with your family of origin. (I only know this because I am capable of it, too.)

To those deeply invested in 'nice', I suppose I have been and, indeed, am an embarrassment. I recently found myself writing these words to a friend: "Self-differentiation. It's the only cross worth carrying." She remarked that this would make a GREAT T-shirt. I do believe she's right.

So, you'll understand, then, why this poem written by Louie Crew and sent to me by him this morning touched my heart.

Before you read it, I want to tell you what my day, this day of 21st anniversary of ordination to the priesthood will be like: I am headed into the office where I will begin to implement the actions of last night's Vestry meeting, which include putting a new roof on the church and replacing all of the windows in the undercroft (where all of the church offices and nursery school are located).

Then, I will have lunch with an ordained woman who has been very badly treated by the church. She is looking for new work, in a new diocese, but I'm going just to be an old friend - to remind her of how talented and skilled, experienced and wise she is and how God desperately needs her in the church.

I will spend the better part of the afternoon in prayer for a dear friend who was in a motorcycle accident two Sundays ago and sustained serious head injuries. He has been on life support for almost two weeks. He turned 57 years old on Tuesday and, on that same day, the doctors noted that his EEG showed "very little brain activity." They and his family and partner, a retired priest and a very dear friend, made the decision that if today's EEG does not show any improvement, he will be removed from all life support and his body allowed to take its natural course.

Pray for Donald.

I will be home in the early evening where, after a quick supper with Ms. Conroy who will run out to Evening Prayer and choir rehearsal, I will put the finishing touches on the sermon I am preparing for a dear friend who is celebrating a new ministry begun in Michigan. I'll leave on Friday and be home late Saturday night to prepare for the two sermons I will preach and two Eucharists it will be my privilege to preside on Sunday.

Embarrassing? Okay. I have a different word for it: Vocation.

If I weren't called to do this work, I'd never be able to pull it off - that and all of the folks who will "just drop by" or "just call to say hello" and I will suddenly find myself with the enormous privilege of listening to the secrets held deep in their hearts.

Here are Louie's words - his anniversary gift to me which I joyfully share with you.


Let Us Now Praise Caustic Christians


Let us now praise caustic Christians,
the champions of justice in all generations,
through whom God has restored the flow of mercy.

Some have nailed theses to the church door
with prophetic power.
Some have started new universities to
challenge the prevailing notions.
Some have overturned tables at the temple,
demanding alms for the poor, the sick,
and the destitute before we buy organs
and stained glass.
Some have worn dresses to be priested for gender justice.
Some have yanked off masks to proclaim their loving gay unions.
Some have demanded of the white authorities, "Let My People Go!"
Some have marched through tear gas and police dogs,
defying orders from prelates and judges.
Some have destroyed draft files
and burned plans for nuclear destruction.
Some have organized unions and cooperatives.
Some have fought to redistribute God's bounty justly.

All these won notoriety in their own generation
and were the scandal of their times.
Many have sat in jails rather than to recant
or to say that the earth as we know it
is at the center of the universe.
Others have died.

Many there are who have left behind them no name,
but a legacy of hope restored, conflict resolved,
injustice rectified, lives redeemed.
Their victories are the inheritance of future generations.
Their line will endure for all times.

-- Louie Crew, 1982

Ernest & I rejoice in the anniversary of your ordination. May God use your ministry to bring joy to absolutely everybody!