From John Hager, Former Summer Seminarian Intern
As Fr. Kyle can attest, I have been known to propose an imaginative alternative to more usual seminary models for young people (in particular) discerning vocations to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. This imaginative model would consist of small groups of students being placed at parishes where real, practical assistance is needed. They would generally not be placed at large parishes with lots of clergy and staff and money. Assuming that these students would be under the supervision of experienced and sensitive clergy, they would spend half the week engaged in parish work in all its variety. If they were to be so fortunate as to end up at a parish like Good Shepherd, Rosemont, their parish work would involve significant liturgical training, educational exposure to basic but correct and robust church musicianship, the rhythm of the Daily Office, and opportunities for working with and serving parishioners of various ages. The other half of the week, students would have certain equally robust biblical, theological, liturgical, and historical academic work to do (Kit Apostolacus reminds me they should have some philosophical training, too). The “seminarians” would meet with students from other parishes regularly for worship, seminars, and reflection.
I warned you this was an imaginative scheme! Such an idea is a tall order, and not without its flaws—and not without my own biases. (It also involves radical changes around how I think the Episcopal Church should use its money!) But I think it speaks to my sense—albeit limited—that there is a real need in seminary education in the Episcopal Church for priestly formation that is grounded in the opportunities of small parish ministry.
And—here’s the important bit—opportunities in small parish ministry truly sustained and grounded in the sustenance of daily worship and the wondrous richness of ancient traditions.
Even my brief summer at Good Shepherd allows me to not hesitate in suggesting that this special place shows forth a magnificent realization of a small parish sustained and grounded in the sustenance of daily prayer and the wondrous richness of ancient traditions. As we know well at Rosemont, such ancient traditions are not exclusionary or stifling but liberative, inspiring, and engaging to all ages (and God forbid we make our traditions exclusionary or stifling). I do not at all think that parishes must be Anglo-Catholic to show forth such things. But I do think the Anglo-Catholic tradition—which we at Rosemont are blessed to embrace so wonderfully—offers an unusual kind of richness, groundedness, and wisdom that helps re-attune our deepest selves to God’s purpose for us to realize his Kingdom of Love even now in our lonely, violent, and often uninspiring world.
The last thing seminarians (and remember I am writing as one!) need is to be oppressed by narratives about church death. This is not because they should be unaware of the various pragmatic realities around money, attendance, or whatever else we might place into the “failing church” narrative that congregations face or endure. Far from it. As my imaginative model suggests, the future leaders of the Episcopal Church should be acutely aware of such realities—as best they can. And they should be aware of the hard work and dedication that facing such challenges demand; a hard work and dedication that my time working with and learning from Fr. Kyle and various staff and parishioners daily showed forth to me. Indeed, the seminarians of my imaginative model would be aware that they do not face these challenges alone. It should inspire them how so many people, even if they be “fewer”, still care deeply about giving to the life of their church.
Rather than being oppressed, seminarians should be acutely aware of the reality that the church—as much as she operates within all the realities of the world—also looks to a kind of hope that dares to trust in the patient, quiet, and unassuming work of a God who took on this world and transformed it for us. A God who took on the world, and to many, would seem to have even died to the world! I believe this hope—especially for parishes, small or large—must be rooted in the transformative truth of Resurrection as manifested chiefly in the celebration of the Holy Communion. In that celebration we find the greatest expression of this patient, quiet, and unassuming work of God: bread and wine are transformed into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, and absolutely no one needs to “see” it happening for it to be true. The Holy Communion becomes a whole way of being for the church at all times and in all places which is Christ’s body, and this way of being is not—in the world’s eyes—flashy, tantalizing, immediate, or “product” oriented.
I hope that this message—regardless of the peculiarities of my imaginative seminary model!—allows parishioners and supporters of Good Shepherd to understand what a gift it was for me to spend a few months living and working at Good Shepherd. As I also hope my reflection made clear, the opportunities for learning were many: assisting in leading all-ages formation, teaching Confirmation classes to two brilliant young parishioners, glimpsing the daily administrative tasks that rectors often must busy themselves with, planning and realizing summer camp with excellent volunteers, listening to and watching excellent music being made. The list could go on. I am exceptionally grateful to Fr. Kyle for his very generous giving of his time and sharing his wisdom, skills, and experience with me. I am also grateful to the staff of the parish (especially Robert, Renee, and Mary) for their support, and of course to the many parishioners who were so welcoming to my presence.
Please be assured of my regular prayers for the Church of the Good Shepherd. I look forward to visiting often. And of your charity please pray for me and my companions at Berkely Divinity School at Yale as we continue our formation.