by Collin Flake, 2021 Charles Simeon Institute Summer Fellow
When I arrived at Duke Divinity School, I had no intention of seeking ordination to the priesthood. I had dreams of becoming a lay missionary or working with a Christian non-profit in an under-resourced community. But about a year into my time at seminary someone asked me a pointed question: “Collin, do you really even know what a priest does?” When I thought about it, I had to admit that I did not. I had caught glimpses, of course, on Sunday mornings and at weddings and funerals. But I had little idea what the daily and weekly rhythms of parish ministry actually entailed. And I suspect this is true of many seminarians, even those who are confident they are called to full-time ministry in the parish.
The Charles Simeon Institute is designed to address exactly this problem. Over the course of this summer, I learned what a priest does by entering into the life of St. Peter’s. I have learned about the teaching role of the priest through preaching and leading a Wednesday class. I have learned about the pastoral role of the priest through regular pastoral care calls and visits. I have learned about the administrative role of the priest by attending planning meetings and learning about managing a budget and building a staff. I have learned about the missional role of the priest by working with St. Peter’s mission partners and joining in Youth Mission Week. I have learned about the role of the priest in facilitating worship by leading morning prayer and participating in the Sunday liturgy. The list could go on.
But even more important than learning what a priest does, I have gained a deeper understanding of what a priest is. Fr. Michael has led some of the clergy in a weekly seminar this summer exploring exactly this question. In one of the books we read for that seminar, the author describes the priest as a sort of “walking sacrament.” I have seen the truth of this in a comical way during my lunch breaks. Several times I have caught people staring at me, and I have wondered if perhaps I was having a particularly bad hair day before remembering that I was wearing my clericals and collar. These symbols serve as a lightning rod for spiritual reflection. One worker at Moe’s even asked me conspiratorially over my burrito bowl: “So, do you like... do exorcisms and stuff?”
On a more serious note, I have seen the sacramental nature of the priesthood emerge in the regular rhythms of ministry to God’s people at all stages of life. There was one day this summer that I accompanied Fr. Wesley to visit a parishioner with Alzheimer’s. As we sat together, I felt the inadequacy of my own words. But as we read Psalm 139 together and prayed, I felt the power of God’s Word speaking beyond the edge of my own words. Just a few hours later, I was in a costume helping teach about baptism in Family Bible School. We invited the children to dip their fingers into the holy water in the baptismal font, and as they stared into the shimmering water, a sense of hushed wonder settled on the room. I have spent much of the past few years wrestling with the question of calling. And it strikes me that it is moments like these—simple moments transfigured by the mystery of God’s presence, moments which I can only describe as holy—out of which a calling emerges. I still do not know whether my calling will entail ordination to the priesthood. However, after this summer I understand more than ever what a worthy calling ordination is.