Last Saturday I went to Hereford Cathedral; a colleague was being ordained priest and I was there to support her. It was seven years since I was ordained deacon, six years since I was made priest, all in the same cathedral. I wasn’t really sure how I would react; this was the first ordination I had been to since my own. I robed and processed with the other clergy and then waited, to see if I would feel anything. The short answer was not much to start with. The singing was good, I think the sermon would have been good but I wasn’t properly listening to it. My fault, not that of the preacher. Then, suddenly it changed. There was movement, the people to be ordained came forward and the Bishop read the “ordination charge”; if you like, the job description for a vicar. It is lengthy and not for the faint-hearted. I remembered my own feeling when I was standing; inadequacy. But then the Bishop is up front; “you cannot bear this charge alone; pray for the Holy Spirit” and I realised I was fighting back my own emotion, just as I had been when I was ordained. After that it was a whirl as the service rapidly moved to the Bishop laying his hands on the head of each candidate, the moment of ordination. My colleague told be afterwards that, out of the blue, that is when the tears came to her; I told her exactly the same had happened to me. I’m not sure if there is any big message in all of this. All I can say is that I was moved and I felt humbled; I hope as I go about my work today as a vicar, I carry those feelings with me.