*This is not a rant*

I was standing, in my cassock, next to the vestry while the sacred ministers vested for Mass and a parishioner quipped, ‘Oh, are you having another Sunday off?’ I was a little perplexed at this comment, given that I was in church and not in bed, but then realised that the parishioner assumed I was not taking part ‘up front’ that morning, as sometimes happens in a parish which is blessed with a healthy team of priests. In fact, I was preaching that day and just hadn’t quite got round to donning the rest of my vestments, but this exchange got me thinking.

I responded, as cheerfully as I could, ‘Oh this stuff doesn’t feel like work – it’s the icing on the cake!’ I truly meant that: celebrating Mass or otherwise pariticpting in the Liturgy and/or preaching, does not feel like work to me, by which I mean that is not burdensome but is an enjoyable privilege. I include pastoral work alongside liturgical work – it can be demanding, but doesn’t feel burdensome because it, too, is a privilege and is so often life-giving. The stuff that feels like ‘work’ happens whether or not I am taking a prominent role in the Liturgy that day. It’s the stuff that happens seven days a week and always manages to sneak into days off…

Another reflection I had after this brief exchange is that, for some of those who are not used to the range of activities that make up a normal working week for a priest, the thought of standing up in front of 120 people and saying (let alone singing!) anything at all seems utterly terrifying. It might look like hard work. The truth is, if I was being selfish, I would love to do more, not less of that ‘up front’ stuff but I realise how valuable it is to have a range of voices and perspectives and how fortunate we are to have this option. When I have worked in parishes that require me to prepare a homily every Sunday, I have enjoyed that privilege too. It’s a different kind of discipline and, in some respects, easier because there is less of a temptation to feel that you have say everything every time. Indeed, I find the whole process of reflection, meditation and preparation for preaching very stimulating and spiritually nourishing.

I suspect that I am not alone in finding that the most demanding aspects of priestly ministry are the relatively minor practicalities that can cause anxiety or low-level conflict: administrative tasks that cause little friction in larger organisations; any changes that affect the fabric of the church building; inter-personal tensions that arise from the very human tendency to protect one’s own ‘patch’; misunderstandings that occur when the peculiarities of the church’s institutional culture come up against the expectations of work in other sectors; the projections and expectations that can form when the priestly role is so laden with unexamined assumptions, and so on. I am not naive – all these things go with the territory and need to be attended to with care and seriousness. However, the reason we value the liturgical and pastoral dimensions of ministry is that these things take us to the heart of what it means to live a Christian life. They give us the strength we need to manage the more burdensome things.

So much of priestly ministry is unseen – the quiet daily times of prayer that are the life-blood of any spiritual discipline; those profound, grace-filled encounters with people as you accompany them and bear witness to the precious details of their life; the careful study of scripture and spiritual reading without which nourishment you have little to offer; the daily tasks of administration – that phone call to the fire alarm company, that meeting with the pest-control man; the conversation with a local third sector organisation about unmet need in the community; the fourth committee meeting that week; the formatting of a liturgy booklet; the word of encouragement to a colleague; the gift token sent to celebrate an anniversary. The ministry that is much more visible – Sunday Mass, weddings, funerals – depends on the quiet daily disciplines but also feeds the invisible work. This is most particularly true of the Sunday Liturgy in every one of its many facets. The assembling of God’s people to offer the sacrifice of praise and to be nourished by the Word of Life and the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ fed by the Body of Christ, is a wonderful mystery and an immense privilege. It doesn’t feel like a job to me!