I gathered and read relevant documents until I felt I had a summary of all the relevant points: not far short of four hundred phrases and sentences describing the calling, the position, the role, the service, the expectations, and the required qualities and characteristics of the deacon.
Three quarters of these were easily accepted and therefore discarded as being of no help in the process of discovering the reality behind my feelings, beliefs and non-intentions with regard to training for the diaconate. Many of these were applicable to Christians in general and therefore, of necessity, required of potential deacons. The remaining quarter became two distinct groups.
The one, again comprised of points applicable to all Christians, but in ways that registered with me as demonstrating how important are some of the basic qualities of any considerate, helpful and just human being, and hence of any genuine and sincere Christian.
The emphasis here was found to be that we should all possess and utilize these qualities in our everyday living as well as at specific times of Christian awareness and as part of any form of support being given to or by others. In no way were they specific requirements for the ordained deacon or priest.
The other, larger group, contained those requisites found to be in any way challenging; from a level of mild discomfort and uncertainty as to whether or not I could accept the particular requirement, to those which instantly registered as being impossible for me: requirements that immediately and completely disqualified me as a potential candidate as, in my own mind at least, my beliefs and devotions, or rather, my undeniable lack of them, meant that I could never become a deacon.
None of this became any source of trouble for me; no regrets; no guilt; no feelings of hypocrisy; no fears that I may have been degenerating into, or may always have been a “pick and mix” Christian; and no sense of horror, or perverse and secret sense of pride entangling me in the thought that, if “found out”, I may be regarded as losing myself in my own particular form of heresy.
The journey is long, and I thank God for that. It is only through the slow and gentle maturing of my certainties that I have reached the point of being untroubled by any of my doubts or even by my lack of belief.
Or was this, rather, what should be regarded as a lesser charge: an acknowledged and admitted non-acceptance of what other men have declared to be qualifying prerequisites for membership of Christ’s Church?
There is only one man in whom I believe unconditionally and to whom I could ever pledge my absolute obedience.
“Christ is risen”, and His presence is one of my certainties. Ultimately, Jesus is the all-inclusive single certainty who contains all others, and who cloaks all potential fear and distress in the contentment that underlies every day of my life. That in which I believe without doubt can never be taken from me; and that fact, at times, has registered with me as what could become, for others, a worryingly dangerous thought – precisely because it is so deeply embedded within me. For that too, I thank God.
The most basic requirement of Christianity (not Catholicism only); the one quality we each share with all others whether we openly admit it or not; the fact of which our admission becomes our proof that we can be members of the Church, and that we are at least already standing in the outer fringes of it. – This is my overriding claim to membership of it; and proof that I possess this quality is found in the fact that I owe my complete obedience to our Lord and yet continue to break my pledge to Him.
Unlike my “No, it’s not for me” where the diaconate is concerned, I can joyfully proclaim that Christ’s Church is for me for the simple reason that I am able to admit to being a sinner.
Another worthwhile step, and another recognition of progress!
