Meaning of Success? 06
Success? Dream — Being a Priest!
I have not always (if ever) been able to control what my dreams were. The best example is my dream of being a priest. This dream first called to me when I graduated high school. Some part of me wanted to be a priest and I started looking into it. But I gave up when I found that to earn a Master of Divinity I had to learn to read Greek and Hebrew. Being dyslexic, I had enough trouble with English. I decided I could not be a priest.
I thought that was the end of that dream. I would serve God and the church as a member of the laity. But as years went by, I still felt the call. I wanted to be a priest. I wanted to serve at the altar and celebrate communion. I wanted to serve God. I wanted to let my muse out—to write and give sermons. I wanted to spend my time thinking about God and how we should interact with each other and with God.
I worked at everything I could in my church—usher, chalice bearer; I even overcame my dyslexia enough to become a lay reader. But I was still being called to the priesthood. So I spoke to my priest and asked if he thought I should try. He thought long and hard, then paid me the greatest compliment anyone ever gave me.
He said yes—I should try to become a priest—but I should understand there was no chance I would make it. Still, it would be a very good experience for the seminary. During his time there he was constantly on probation, and I was even further out than he was.
I then threw myself into becoming a priest wholeheartedly. I worked even harder at church—running the youth group; serving as Master of Ceremonies every Sunday from the time our rector retired until we had a new one (over a year); even serving as junior warden (vice president) for a year. I went back to school and earned my bachelor’s degree. I did everything I could to prepare to go to seminary.
Then it was all taken away from me. My friend and mentor priest had retired. Nearly two years later he was falsely accused of sexual misconduct. I was given a choice: continue on my path to the priesthood, or be his friend—but not both.
The choice was easy. I told the bishop I thought he was the Grand Inquisitor, resigned from the program, and I have never regretted it.
Once again, the question remains: what pulled me toward this dream?
- Answering the call of God.
- Giving my muse a pulpit.
- Finding self-respect in accomplishing the “impossible.”
- Emulating a man I respected and loved.
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