Deacons: Third Word: Needs and Hopes

The Third Word — Needs and Hopes

The Bishop’s Mitre is busy.

Low beams,

old wood polished by hands and time.

Glasses clink,

laughter hums.

The old priest enters quietly.

Not in clericals,

just himself.

Still, heads turn.

At the bar,

he greets two men—

mud on their boots,

placards by the door.

They have come down from a protest.

Voices hoarse,

eyes still fierce.

He listens.

Nods.

Buys them each a pint.

“Thanks for standing up.

I’ll pray for you.

God bless.”

A hand on a shoulder,

then he moves on.

The ordinands make space at their table.

Pints raised.

“Thank you for your homilies,”

one says.

“You’ve given us yourself.”

He shrugs.

Smiles.

“I only spoke from the heart.”

He tells them of Durham Cathedral,

the awe of ordination.

“Once a deacon,

always a deacon.

Though truth be told—

we’re all forgeries.

Imperfect copies.

But God uses us still.

Remember this:

the stole placed crosswise,

diagonal over the heart—

that sign is never taken off.

Even if one day

you wear a bishop’s ring or mitre,

beneath it lies the mark of service,

the yoke of Christ the servant.”

The planter leans in:

“What about tonight’s theme—

the needs and hopes?”

The priest’s eyes brighten.

He begins:

“Deacons serve the place they’re set.

Not floating above it,

not sealed in churches,

but in streets,

schools,

estates.

Your task is to bring needs

into the Church’s prayer.

To carry hopes

into the Church’s heart.

When sorrow weighs heavy,

you shoulder it.

When hope flickers,

you fan it.

You listen.

You tell the truth—

sometimes gently,

sometimes sharp—

but always with love.

The deacon lives in three worlds:

the Church,

the world,

the Kingdom.

Bridging.

Interceding.

Translating.

Never so lost in theory

you miss the tears beside you.

Never so busy

you walk past the broken.

And the Church—

it must empower you.

Hear you.

Let you lead it back

to where Christ already walks.”

He stops.

Lets the words rest

amid the pub noise.

The quiet one whispers:

“That sounds costly.”

The priest nods.

“Of course.

Love always is.”

They raise their glasses.

“To love.”

Another round.

Laughter.

Football.

Cassock jokes.

Then the bell rings.

Last orders.

They drain their pints,

pull on coats.

The street outside is cool,

lamp steady in the dark.

They walk back together—

half laughing,

half pondering—

carrying needs and hopes

yet unnamed,

already entrusted

to God.

These reflections/poems are from Rev John Swales, MBE, who is mission priest for the Lighthouse project in Leeds (placements for deacons are offered there!). In Lent this year I published here a series of his meditations on diaconal ministry https://cofedeacons.org/2025/03/11/herald-of-christs-kingdom/