One of the disciplines of being a Presbyter is to attend the annual Presbyteral Synod, which was held today in Pocklington.
I always find this Synod very moving, because it’s the closest we come to being an order like our diaconate friends. We gathered today to hear about ministerial candidates; then our probationer ministers; then we heard from those about to sit down, the Methodist word for retire. My colleague, the Superintendent in Scarborough told me he has three years to do and a very big chair in which to sit down on is getting closer!
After that we heard obituaries of four ministers. All four deeply moving. I wonder what they’ll write about me one day.
This afternoon we had “the annual enquiry” - our names were read out one by one and we had to answer a yes to whether we are as convinced of our call as when God first called us and are we still prepared to administer our discipline and preach our doctrine. There have been times when both questions may have got a no answer! But not today. I’m in for another year.
It was good to meet in fellowship with ministers across the District and especially to see friends I’ve not seen for years. Nic was way back when a member of one of the churches I was a student minister in in east Manchester and John and Bruce were in college with me.
I have been conscious today of the power of fellowship. Paul writes to the fractured church in 1 Corinthians “when one part of the body suffers, we all suffer, when one part of the body rejoices, we all rejoice.” We need each other. We need to respect each other. We need to trust each other.
Today being part of a deep fellowship, a really good Lent group, and having a conversation with my ecumenical friend Canon Matthew as we were both filling up at the garage at 8 this morning - has been a privilege and an encouragement.
“He bids us build each other up, and gathered into one, to our high calling’s glorious hope, we hand in hand go on.”
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