I am trying to be cognizant of the importance of last night’s rite of ordination. Several people have come to me with tears in their eyes, shaking my hands and kissing my cheek and saying–you know how significant this is? I could feel the past and future come together in the moment–women trained as priestesses, women who love their temple, taking the next step.
Women tying on cords, women wearing stoles, women stepping into a life of service as well as leadership. Women who became clergy to their temple. Their Goddess temple.
Juggling the pieces was challenging. The invitations, the certificates, the food, the choir, the flowers, the location…because our little chapel in the basement of the old hospital building holds barely a dozen people.
The Circle of Council–the governing body of the temple–really pitched in to make it a successful evening. They seemed proud of the work that was done–all these months of classes and labs, of discussion and frustration blooming into a pastoral team, into a ritual team, into a College of Celebrants.
So, by all accounts, it was glorious. The Beloved Crone spoke of the need for the Goddess and the passing of the energy from our Eldest into the heads of the next generation was palpable.
And they stood at last before the congregation, cords tied, stoles in place, vows proclaimed. The congregation gasped as they stood and their names were spoken, with the new and slightly off-putting title attached.
Reverend.
And so it is done.
I, for one, could use a few days off. And a little nap.