About the first female Archbishop of Canterbury, a man said, “women are not deacons, priests or bishops. Even if they crossdress to pretend.”
Lord, let it be so.
May I always be cross-dressing when I move toward priestly service:
may I be robed in cruciform sacrifice,
draped in kenotic self-offering,
wrapped up in the shameful, despised cross, which is my garment of salvation.
Unfit and unsuited as I am, I have been clothed with Christ;
like Gideon, I have been named according to your desire and design,
beyond my presently manifest personhood.
Thus, in robes made white by the blood of the lamb,
may I take my given place of worship and witness in your kingdom of priests.
Putting on my new self as one holy and beloved,
I trust that I am hidden and held in your calling
as I labor to clothe myself “with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”
As I inhabit and facilitate the sacred intersection of divine-human communion,
may it be as one who been met by your transgressive grace,
and may I extend that covering freely and faithfully over your gathered people.
Amen.
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