My Wonderings

Angst of Ember Season

It’s that time again! Today, Holy Cross Day, begins another week of Ember Days. I’m aware of this because several of my networked friends are in the ordination process and posting laments (good liturgical word) about the need to write their Bishops this week. Just reading their posts made my stomach start overproducing acid and my Catholic-guilt and worry start to rear its ugly head. That last effect is particularly annoying to me because I have never been a Roman Catholic. But I am so good at this Catholic rite that I’m pretty sure Peter’s going to count me as one of his own when I meet him at the Pearly Gates.

For my non-liturgical or low-church or unchurched friends, let me explain the issue. According to ancient tradition, there are four times a year (Ember Days) during which an aspirant/postulant/candidate/ordinand (one who is in the ordination process) is to write a letter to their Bishop. Here’s a link to a pretty decent explanation of the tradition on Wikipedia. Even though I had been an Episcopalian all my life and worked in the Episcopal Church since I was in my early 20s, I had never heard of this tradition before I became an aspirant/postulant/etc.. So that gives you a little hint about just how important this tradition is to the average pew-sitter. They’re on the level of Rogation Days (I bet most readers have to google that too,) merely step-children of the Liturgical Calendar. But we’ve all met those phariseedual types (I just coined that word, so please give me all attribution rights) that are quite legalistic and rigid about, well, everything. My diocese leaned toward that Phariseedic side.

Some of my friends came from more libertarian diocese where the Bishop didn’t care about getting Ember Day letters. But as my luck tends to run, my diocese was one of those that saw this tradition as an opportunity for an ordination fitness litmus test. I was told that my ember letters better be on the desk of my bishop before the last day of the week or there would be dire, dire consequences. It was a thinly veiled threat that one could be booted out of the process for failure to comply and that any so-called ‘emergency’ such as accidental decapitation, house fire, alien abduction would not constitute sufficient cause for posting your letter late. It would only prove that you did not adequately prepare for the unexpected and therefore you obviously couldn’t be counted on to provide leadership in an institution (the Church) where preparedness is kind of a big deal (that whole 2nd coming, apocalypse part).

It wasn’t that I was a procrastinator or unaware of the liturgical calendar. I’m rarely late for anything. But I never knew “what” I was suppose to write. We were told to let the Bishop know how you were doing, how you were coming along, in the whole ” priestly formation” thing. But, really, you couldn’t do that, not honestly. I mean, we’re talking a serious Catch 22 here! If you said, “I am really coming along, feeling myself more and more formed into a priest every day” one might interpret you as too confident, arrogant, and not introspective. But if you said, “I am coming to realize just how unworthy and unprepared I am to ever step foot in a pulpit and proclaim the gospel” one might interpret you as too insecure, neurotic, and pitiful. You wouldn’t want to admit that the seminary experiencing is all-consuming and is proving to be quite a stressor on your family life. But it almost always is. The Bishop knows the Church will be even harder stress on your family. You wouldn’t want to admit that the higher-level of critical theological thinking is wrecking havoc with your faith and you aren’t sure what, if anything, you believe anymore. But it almost always does. The Bishop knows that the Church will be even more destructive to your idealism and child-like innocence.

So, I would fret over these stupid letters ad-nauseum. I would have paid good money if someone would just write the darn thing for me. That’s why, this morning, upon reading my friends’ ember posts, I had this brilliant, genius of an idea to ’sell’ automated, computer-generated Ember Day Letters that could be tailored to individuals through the client providing a few custom words (nouns, adjectives, and an adverb or two.) Like a Mad Lib. The fancy name is I would utilize a phrasal template word game program. I do have one small problem. That is, I never could figure out how to write an ember day letter so I have no idea what to put in my template. I need your help; consider it your christian duty. If you will provide a sentence or two in the comments below this post, I will share a percentage of my Mad LibEmbers royalties with you. Thank you for your participation!

Sarah Bennett is an Episcopal priest in the Diocese of Texas. She is an avid evangelist of social media and honest, authentic conversations of the spiritual journey.  Gregg and I have been married 24 yrs with "narry a ripple in the sea of matrimony." We have a daughter, Megan (22) and a son, Gregg (20). I am an Episcopal priest exploring the theological and ecclesiological implications of social networks. Read more from this author