Not a vicar

When he knew I was leaving a Pentecostalist minister, for whom I have a lot of respect, said,

I trust that you can cope with the fall out of not being a vicar, as I suspect there is little support towards this major transition. It is a huge change to go through.

Well, I'm sure I can cope but it's a kind thought.  The reality has been a total lack of support while I was a vicar and so there's not likely to be any when I leave.  Some people have had much worse.

I find I go shopping thinking to myself how good it is to be anonymous, not just that I don't know anyone but also that no-one will know who I am irrespective of whether I know them.

One day I hope to shop without bothering.

New life, new start, new questions

It's a new start.

I've moved from the small market town of Retford in rural Nottinghamshire to Newcastle upon Tyne, home of MadPriest and not so far from themethatisme.

I've stopped being a vicar. I haven't yet sorted out a new identity, but I'm pretty sure it won't elide job and life quite so thoroughly.

It will be strange, after almost 12 years, to squeeze the vicar out of me as water out of a sponge. It's not just the day to day work (some of which I might continue anyway) but the assumptions people make about vicars, the relationships that are possible and those that are not, and the spectacles through which I see the world.

I went to Church in Walker on Sunday. I was surprised to find a Common Worship 8.00am service. There was no reason why I should have been surprised except that I am accustomed to BCP at that time of day. It will no doubt take a while before I can stop looking at things from, so to speak, the front of the Church and learn to see from the pews (well, chairs in this case).

The walk there and back evoked a haiku:

Early morning light
body and bone long for warmth
willing the sunrise