Joy of working as a woman priest in the west

ANY of my teaching colleagues spend their Sunday afternoons relaxing in bed or on a golf course, but for me Sunday means no respite…

ANY of my teaching colleagues spend their Sunday afternoons relaxing in bed or on a golf course, but for me Sunday means no respite, no recharging of the batteries for school on Monday. As an ordained priest of the Church of Ireland, auxiliary ministry, Sunday is as busy and tiring as any weekday at school. So why do it?

Is being principal of a one teacher school in Tubbercurry, Co Sligo not enough? Why did I undertake four years of intensive study, endless essay writing, and all that juggling of time between home, school, study, and lectures?

It was all about sharing in what I see as "a cherished tradition," and to help keep that tradition alive.

Always involved in church life, at parish and diocesan level, I had seen the problems experienced by clergy ministering to the scattered Church of Ireland populace in the vast diocese of Tuam, Killala, and Achonry. I felt I could help if ordained.

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My role as an auxiliary priest (unpaid) has given me a great feeling of belonging, to a family that is welcoming and loyal. Being a woman or an auxiliary priest does not affect this warmth. A colleague, from another diocese told me she envied my position, as she had not experienced a similar level of acceptance on her ordination.

As a woman priest I was fortunate in that the way was paved for me by the Rev Paula Halliday and the Rev Nicola Harvey Neill. We were accepted by the other clergy as colleagues, and by the laity as a new dimension to the ministry. I have been well received throughout the diocese. The continued encouragement that I receive from Roman Catholic people has been exceptional.

Due to my involvement as a lay reader, a member of the diocesan synod, boards of education and mission for seven years, I am well known throughout the diocese.

My mothers union involvement, on a diocesan and national level, is even longer, so many of our 2,200 diocesan souls already know me. My new role as ordained minister was therefore easily accepted by the laity.

The only apprehension I had on being ordained was over my ability to preside at celebrations of Holy Communion. Even though I believed that the people would have no objections to receiving Holy Communion that had been consecrated by a woman, I was unsure of myself, through inexperience. I feared people might be watching me, a woman, to see whether I would make mistakes. This, I soon realised, was unfounded and I now am more at ease.

One problem with being in the auxiliary ministry and holding down a full time job is that my pastoral work is limited. I may be well known by the people but I cannot get to know them very well, as I see them usually only once a month at church.

Visiting homes after my school day is not really feasible as I need to driven at least 25 miles before I reach my nearest parishioner.

To offset that, I try to visit parishioners who are hospitalised in Sligo. Time and distance therefore limit my official pastoral work, but around Tubbercurry I carry on what I have been doing, unofficially, for the past 10 years and more. Perhaps because I am a woman and ordained, I find that more people are using me as a listening ear, a go between, a kind of social worker. These are people of all religious persuasions and none.

Although ordained to serve in the Killala/Ballina group of eight parishes, I have also done duty in places as far apart as Cong and Collooney, Tuam and Tubbercurry. This adds a wider dimension to my ministry although the travelling is tiring. With two or three services every Sunday, I return home exhausted but fulfilled, pleased that I have been serving the church, helping out in vacant parishes, releasing full time clergy for an occasional Sunday off, standing in during illnesses.

FURTHER, being one of a minority group enhances the family feeling of the Church. In school, I can be teacher, pastor, mother and nurse to the 17 children.

I try to teach love and respect for others, no matter who, for our country and for God's creation. I am fortunate that I have the opportunity to do this, as a teacher and as a priest.

Another aspect of my role as a priest is dealing with the constant requests to address meetings, to give presentations at seminars, or to preach at special services (five Thanksgivings last year). This is very time consuming. No doubt the novelty of having a woman priest to speak will soon wear off.

But seeing so much of God's creation on my journeys around the west to churches and meetings is an added bonus. The varying moods of Lough Talt as I cross the Ox mountains on my way to Ballina, the surfing waves along by Easky, or the tranquillity of Ashford Castle's grounds as I pass through on my way into the little church in Cong make me very aware of God's presence all around.

Working as an auxiliary priest in the west of Ireland may have its difficulties, but it is also very rewarding. As someone recently said of working in a small parish: "One tastes the rich fruit of the Gospel in deeply personal ways." I feel that as a woman, as a priest, as a schoolteacher, as a member of the Church of Ireland, there is much I can offer all those who welcome and support me in a challenging, fulfilling and, hopefully, fruitful ministry.