I have felt God calling me throughout my life, even as a child
. After my gender change, I thought God was crazy in still calling me.
"It’s impossible," I said to God, "but I will answer your call." And,
amazingly, God has brought me home to where God wants me to be.
Being outed was painful. Things have calmed down, but I do
now carry my gender change around with me, whereas I had forgotten about it
before. [It took place ten years ago.] It’s hard having my medical history in
everyone’s mind.
Whoever I meet in the town knows, and that makes it a bit
more of a live issue. That has certainly added to my load. But it has helped a
lot of people to know that you can be accepted in the C of E even if you have
an unusual gender background.
There is more to life than a label. But my gender change is
an issue I am more happy to talk about since February [when the news became
public (
News, 4 February)]. I went on the BBC’s Heaven and Earth Show: I
felt I had nothing to lose.
I have received lots of supportive emails, texts, and letters
— although I am sure there are people in the Church generally who
would be unhappy.
I had always been open and honest about my situation when
considering ordination. But I’ve always felt there was a difference
between secrecy and privacy. I had wanted to keep my personal circumstances
private, but they were not secret from everyone.
Becoming a priest means being drawn more closely into the work of
God — living more and more for my creator and for God’s creation. I
was priested last Saturday in Hereford Cathedral, and presided for the first
time at St Mary’s in Ross-on-Wye the next day.
I see myself as a parish priest, although I am attracted to certain
aspects of chaplaincy. I read psychology at university, and I am a
musician. It would be good if I could use my psychology skills in ministry, and
still keep playing music in my spare time.
The parish and local people have been fabulous. They have
taken me as I am with my gifts and my shortcomings, and decided that labels
such as "sex-change" hide the truth rather than illuminate it.
The Ross Team Ministry, with its 14 churches, is a great place to be
a curate. There are four team priests and a whole host of retired
clergy. There are Readers and lay people involved in ministry, as well. I learn
from them all. Each church has a different feel to it; so I learn from each
congregation, too.
The only downside is that on Sundays I am often rushing off to
another service. You can miss the moment for those important
conversations, which cannot always be followed up another time.
I am single; so I have a circle of friends as my immediate
family. As a child, I wanted to be a priest or an army officer or a musician.
The most important choice I have made is to try to say yes
to God each day of my life. My biggest regret is the fact that I am not good at
keeping in contact with people; but I find that it takes all I have just to
keep going and to be here for the people I am currently with. I am trying to
get better.
I would like to be remembered for being a good disciple and a good
pastor. If it’s not asking too much, I would like to be remembered as
a writer of good songs as well.
Where women get treated as chattels by men, or where
enemies are destroyed — in the name of a loving God, of course — these are my
least favourite parts of the Bible. I love the Gospels.
Spiritually, the Society of Mary and Martha at Sheldon has been very
important. The people are insightful and hospitable, and the rolling
Devon hills are beautiful.
I am a songwriter and I play in a band. We have just
launched our third CD, which is entitled First Person Plural [details on
www.bluebearmusicdemon.com] It’s all original material, with a
folk-acoustic feel to it. We aim to tour a couple of weeks a year. It’s great
fun, and we work to professional standards.
Sarah Jones was talking to Rachel Harden.