For those not acquainted with ember letters, they are a quarterly letter, normally written by postulants to their bishops. I have found writing them a valuable spiritual practice, so I do so, even though they are not formally part of my journey right now.

A lot has happened since I wrote my last ember letter back in May. In June, I attended the Summer Intensive at Church Divinity School of the Pacific. It was a most wonderful experience in many ways. I had an overwhelming sense of ‘this is absolutely where I am meant to be right now’. I met people face to face that I had been in classes with for the previous two semesters and I met new people who have been become key members of community and support group.

I had started at CDSP in the Certificate for Theological Studies program. I was trying to get a sense of if I, a college dropout from years ago, could manage graduate level studies while working full time, supporting a family, and being involved in my community. I also thought it might help my credentials if I had a certificate from seminary, no matter where my studies led me. However, it became very clear to me that this is where I was meant to be and so I changed from the online CTS program to the Low Residency Masters of Divinity program. I now identify as a Low Residency Bi-Vocational Seminary Student.

I took Biblical Hebrew, which was a great challenge. I hope to keep up regular reading of the Hebrew scriptures along with other sources in Hebrew. I have been doing it sporadically since I finished my translation for that class, but not as much as I would like.

I also took Foundations for Ministry, which was a struggle for me as I try to get a better sense of the ministry God is calling me to, and where God is calling me to that ministry. When I had first written to the local Episcopal bishop about the current phase of my journey, I focused on the unexpected nature of it. I continue to live into unexpected uncertainty and I pray for those around me that they might be able to embrace more unexpected uncertainty.

This semester, I am taking Theology 1. It is helping me clarify in my own thoughts and language who and where I am. More later on this, I’m sure. I am also taking Postmodern Christian Education. I don’t want to jinx things by saying how excited I am about this class, but I’m really excited about it. Two of the texts we will be using that I am most interested in are Mai-Anh Le Tran Reset the Heart: Unlearning Violence, Relearning Hope and Anne Streaty Wimberly Soul Stories: African American Christian Education. It is great to be taking the course online because I am so interested in digital pedagogy.

I continue my worship at Grace and St. Peter’s in Hamden on Sunday mornings, Church of the Holy Trinity in Middletown Thursday’s at lunch time when I don’t have conflicts at work, the Emmaus dinners with the Andover Newton folks at Yale Divinity School on Thursday evenings, and Vespers at Three Saints Orthodox Church in Ansonia. I went on a pilgrimage to St. Tikhon’s Monastery over Memorial Day weekend, and I continue to serve with Dinner for a Dollar, Arden House, and with the altar guild at Grace and St. Peter’s.

Yet all of this is preamble to some of my current thinking. In the past, I’ve mentioned my interest in Brother Lawrence and practicing the presence of God. During Bible study at the Emmaus dinner the other week, we discussed a reading from Jeremiah which led to talking about social justice. A phrase came to my mind, “Intersectional prayer”. What would it be like if our praying without ceasing were more intersectional. When we pray for a person who is suffering, do we pray for others who are suffering, perhaps as a result of similar but different forms of oppression? Do we pray about the systemic causes of this oppression and confess our own role and culpability in this systemic oppression? If we take this further, how do we live in constant awareness of God’s awesomeness and the awesomeness of God’s creation while at the same time holding up the concerns, both individual and corporate about suffering?

How do we practice an intersectional presence of God?

This also brings me back to the issue of embracing uncertainty. How do we make ourselves as open as possible to uncertainty? How do we embrace kenosis and theosis in daily life?

Please, keep me in your prayers as I explore this over the coming months.