How the Ordination Went

What a weekend! On Sunday, June 27th, Bishop Brian Prior ordained my friend. She is now an Episcopalian priest. She wears her Pentecostal red vestments well. She says she feels "different." She certainly looks radiant. She must be "different."

The Bishop also ordained another woman and commissioned four lay people to perform specialized ministries. All this took place in a tiny church loaded with character in a small town in Northern Minnesota. At the front of the church is a raised section, a stage, that seems at least three feet higher than the rest of the church.
To get "on stage" you have to climb four or five steps. A banister makes the trip less scary. Down below are the pews and an antique but pleasant sounding pump organ. On the stage for the ceremony were an armchair for the Bishop, the altar, other arm chairs, a lectern for the Bishop's Chaplain, two kneelers padded with cushions, and a desk you can write on while standing up. Very Dickensian. Given the small size of the church and the large number of participants, the logistics for the liturgy were almost terrifying. Present, however, was a priest with a genius for harmony who made everything "work." A liturgical choreographer.

An Aside ---

My friend's friend was supposed to be her presenter. The presenter presents the person being ordained to the Bishop, assures the Bishop that the candidate is a winner, and signs a document stating that the Bishop did, in fact, ordain the person.
The presenter is also a witness. Well, my friend's friend got sick and couldn't make the trip. They were both devastated. When my friend asked me to be the substitute presenter, I said Yes! Did I know what I would be expected to do? Of course not, but I am a woman of faith, and I believe in rehearsals. I knew there would be a rehearsal on the 26th.

Back to the Events of the Day ---

First, we participants got in line for the entrance procession. The church was so small we had to line up outside. Rain had poured down shortly before, so the ground was wet. We were also holding our programs, tomes really, which contained detailed instructions on what to do, what to say, and what to sing. The first in line were already entering the church, singing away as the organist pumped and played. I was reading the words of the hymn and stepped forward. Half my foot landed on pavement, the other half about an inch lower on wet grass, and I found myself sprawled on the grass. The seat of my pants absorbed a good deal of water, the cuff turned brown, and my knees turned green. My friend, already exhibiting signs of priestly service, was among those who hauled me up. I was fine. Not exactly presentable but ready to present.

Once inside the church, we entered the pews and finished the hymn. Episcopalians seem to finish hymns no matter how many the verses. Then our choreographer had us move up to our positions on stage. There on stage, on that wee parcel of floor space, were the following: the Bishop, the Bishop's chaplain, the liturgical choreographer, the two being ordained, the four being commissioned, at least eight presenters, and two acolytes who were pressed up against the wall. Total: at least nineteen. The two being ordained and the four being commissioned were kneeling on the kneelers. At the base of the stage, priests, mostly women but men, too, stood in a semi-circle. They wore albs and red stoles. Still Pentecost. There were about two and a half feet of floor space between the bottoms of the kneeler's feet and the edge of the stage. That's where we presenters stood, as close together as we could get. How easy it would be to fall off! Somehow, we managed to read what we were supposed to read in unison, so we were heard. The Bishop commissioned and ordained. Faces grew more and more radiant. Those of us who were presenters for the new priests began to inch our way very carefully to the Dickensian desk. The liturgical choreographer handed me a pen. I dropped it. It made a loud klunk and rolled slowly across the stage. From what I heard later, everyone there watched it roll slowly across the stage. My friend the priest, now overflowing with the spirit of service, groveled about, picked up the pen, and handed it to me with a radiant smile. I signed the documents and gave the pen to the liturgical choreographer. She did not drop it but instead disappeared and materialized elsewhere to direct our exit from the stage. We returned to our pews. I sat on my program, so I wouldn't get the padded seat wet. Some who had missed the rehearsal found that the pews weren't bolted to the floor. The slightest touch could cause them to swivel about. The video man was almost separated from his camera. Pretty exciting.


When everyone had settled down, priests helped the new priests get vested. The Bishop began celebrating what we Catholics call the Mass. The lectors read. The Bishop ambled up and down the main aisle as he gave a lovely talk, what we Catholics would call a homily. The Bishop and the new priests distributed the bread and wine.
Then, the liturgy was over. We all went outside to enjoy a feast of food and conversation. A lovely day! A day of radiance.