Published on: 05/05/2026
I had a great full time job in an office full of lovely people. As the token Christian I was the person they’d ask about life, death and making cardboard crowns for kids’ nativity plays at the same time as asking for management data. Some were surprised I went to church because I seemed relatively normal. Weekends and days off I was a Reader, leading services, doing sermons and funerals and minding my own God’s business. Then a virus struck the world and we were locked in our own houses. I realised my job, without daily interaction with friends in a large, busy department, was tedious. Early retirement was offered and I grabbed it eagerly. envisaging long, sunny days crafting, gardening, walking and drinking coffee with my BFF. However, a divine being who shall remain not nameless but unseen had other ideas and the PCC agreed. So there I was, a duly authorised Focal Minister, and regularly being asked, what’s one of them? My badge says “Focal Minister” so I’m expected to know what one is.
Shortly after my initial authorisation the Bishop asked me what form my Focal Ministry took. My answer? Everything from taking funerals to mending the Mothers Union banner using a strap off my handbag. But Readering and Focal Ministering had melded into one jumbled up type of church thing. I had to ask myself, was my particular form of Focal Ministry simply Reader plus? Did it matter? Could I explain to the people around me – or even to myself – what the difference was? Slowly opportunities began to open for me to engage in community gatherings and events, outside the specifically church-y God type of stuff. I could simply turn up at things and meet people, have beer or coffee and a biscuit or, better still, cake.
I’ve noticed that, when some encounter a priest, they wear a “talking to a vicar” filter. Non church-goers think they need to apologise for not going to church. They feel guilty and try to hide their doubts, uneasy in case they’re judged for shopping instead of praying on Sundays. That white collar may be a comfort in times of need, a dependable sign of authority, but also perhaps a societal and psychological barrier. Well, I have a badge instead, and this is the value of my Focal ministry. I’m a token church person out in the community. It’s like being back at work but the department is bigger. I’m a relatively normal person doing relatively normal person things like talking to other relatively normal people about football, music, holidays, films, theatre, the Archers, their families and sometimes even Jesus. I’m growing friends and talking about their lives. I’ll tell them what’s happening in church, mention meetings, events and groups they might like. When some of them do brave those big wooden doors into a service they will see the Reader me, still the same relatively normal person, but now at the front of church leading a service and exploring God’s word with them. Of course they may still hear about football, music, holidays, films, theatre, the Archers, (because all sermons should mention at least one of those, shouldn’t they?) but probably quite a bit more about Jesus.
This week’s Blog post was written by Jane Spooner, Reader and Focal Minister at St Mark, Grenoside and Assistant Warden of Focal Ministers.
If you’d like to know more about Focal Ministry visit our webpages or email layministry@sheffield.anglican.org.