That persistent stirring in your spirit could be a calling to become a deacon. That is one lesson from four new vocational deacons ordained on Saturday, April 26.
Cabell Jones, Florian Jones-Stamm, Judi Thomas, and Stephanie Shareck Werner were ordained to the Sacred Order of Deacons by The Rt. Reverend E. Mark Stevenson, Bishop of Virginia. The service took place at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Goochland.
Deacons represent one of three orders of ordained ministry (with bishops and priests). In The Episcopal Church, a deacon exercises “a special ministry of servanthood” directly under the bishop, serving all people, and especially those in need (BCP, p. 543). The Episcopal Diocese of Virginia is working to expand the number of deacons, who represent the mission to love Jesus, embody justice, and be disciples.
Deacons “translate the needs, hopes, and concerns of the world to the church,” said The Rev. Dr. Sarah Kye Price, Vocations Minister for the diocese. The four new deacons will be assigned parishes in the upcoming months, she added.
To learn more about discernment in the Diocese of Virginia, visit this link. More about the diaconate is here; also, the St. Phoebe School for Deacons.
Meanwhile, meet the four new deacons, whom we invited to describe their calling in their own words.
Cabell Jones, Richmond
My call to the diaconate happened over a period of years. It began when I was walking in a remote area and heard my name being called. I looked around, but I did not see anyone. In that moment, I knew that it was God. Several years later, I enrolled in Education for Ministry (EfM), which turned out to be life-changing. EfM is a four-year learning commitment that helps people discern their vocation in life, whether it is ordained or lay ministry. In year two, during our vocation discussions, several classmates said that they could see me as clergy. They asked if I had or would consider becoming ordained. I was flattered and surprised. Our EfM mentor suggested that I become more involved in the church as a way to explore my ministry. Being a part of EfM and serving in different capacities in the church made me feel alive. I felt I was becoming the person I was meant to be.
Are you balancing diaconate work with another career, and how is that going?
I am balancing diaconate work with my career as a paralegal. Balancing full-time work with the diaconate is challenging. It works best for me when I make a schedule and remember to include self-care in that schedule.
What is the significance of this month’s ordination to you?
I have been in formation for three years, so I am excited to reach this moment. As the day approaches, I am filled with awe and a sense of responsibility.
What do you hope as you go forward as a deacon?
I hope that my life as a deacon exemplifies love for Jesus and a commitment to justice.
Do you have any advice for readers who may be feeling called?
Listen to the Spirit, explore the possibilities, and do not be afraid. God will provide.
Florian Jones-Stamm, Richmond
My calling has always lived in the space between the Church and the world. As a lawyer working in rural economic development, I’ve spent the last 20 years helping small towns across the South and Midwest find hope and opportunity through good, steady jobs. It’s a quiet kind of justice – one that helps families stay rooted, communities heal from disinvestment, and keeps futures open.
But alongside that legal work, I have also felt a deeper pull: to proclaim the Good News of a God who meets us in our brokenness, walks with us in suffering, and invites us into a loving relationship and reconciliation. Over the years, that sense of call took on shape and clarity through prayer, study, and conversation with mentors and spiritual companions.
Eventually, I found the words for it: I am called to be a deacon.
I’m called to be a bridge between Church and world, sacred and secular, the altar and the vacant storefront. I want to help the gathered Church see the suffering around us with the compassion of Christ and to help the world know the Church as a place of welcome, justice, healing, and hope.
Are you balancing diaconate work with another career, and how is that going?
Yes, I am balancing my ministry with my full-time work as an attorney. It’s not always easy, but it’s deeply meaningful. My legal work – especially in rural and underserved communities – often feels like diaconal ministry itself: advocating for the voiceless and the forgotten, building partnerships across difference, and pursuing the kind of economic justice that allows people to flourish.
Holding both vocations side by side has helped me see how God is already at work in the world, and how the Church can join in—not from above, but from beside.
What is the significance of this month’s ordination to you?
This ordination is not just a personal milestone – it’s a holy affirmation of what God has been unfolding in my life for a long time. It is a way to mark my “Yes” to God, the Church, and the world. To be ordained as a deacon is to say yes to walking in the footsteps of Jesus, who knelt to wash feet, who ate with the outcast, who spoke truth to power, and who carried the suffering of the world in his own body. It’s also a yes to the people of God – to serve, to stand with, and to walk alongside them in love and hope.
What do you hope for as you go forward as a deacon?
My deepest hope is to be an instrument of God’s redeeming and reconciling love in the world. I want to help congregations live into their baptismal promises – not just on Sundays, but every day, in every place, in every relationship. I want to be part of a Church that not only preaches good news, but becomes good news: feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, challenging injustice, and accompanying those in pain.
Wherever I serve, I hope to lift up the voices of the marginalized, to kindle holy imagination, and to encourage the people of God to be brave in love.
To be a deacon is to walk with Jesus – not just in worship, but on the road, among the poor, the weary, the wounded. Discipleship means we do not simply admire Jesus; we follow him. We pay attention to where he went and whom he spent time with, and then we go and do likewise.
I hope to encourage others in this walk – to help the Church see that discipleship is not about status or comfort, but about humility, service, and love that moves toward those on the margins. Jesus walks ahead of us and beside us. As deacon, I want to help the people of God recognize Jesus in the places they may least expect.
Do you have any advice for readers who may be feeling called?
Listen to the holy restlessness in your spirit. If you’re feeling pulled toward something deeper, don’t ignore it.
Talk to someone you trust. Pray. Sit in silence. Pay attention to where your compassion burns brightest.
And remember that God rarely calls the “ready” – God calls the willing. The Church needs your heart, your hands, and your voice. Don’t wait to be perfect. Just be faithful and do not be afraid. God is with you.
Judi Thomas, Colonial Beach
From a very young age, I have loved Jesus and taken very seriously his call to us to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, visit those who are sick and in prison. I’ve lived my life trying to embody justice and speak out for those who have been marginalized. I tried to live out my baptismal call as a member of the laity both in the Diocese of Virginia and the Episcopal Church in Navajoland.
During a presentation by James Finley at a conference with the Living School of the Center for Action and Contemplation, I felt a call to the diaconate. I prayed, discerned in community, and began the discernment process through the Diocese of Virginia. My call was part of my life as a professed Third Order Franciscan.
Until recently, I was working as a hospice nurse. I am searching for a job to continue that work while spending my time being mentored for ordination. My ordination will be the beginning of the great work of God being in the world and bringing the needs of the world to the church.
My prayer is that by example of my life I might call others to live into their baptismal promises as disciples and join me in the work of justice.
My advice for those sensing a call to diaconal ordination: Pray, discern with others, sit in contemplation, and seek to hear God’s call for you. Seek out deacons and inquire about the life and ministry of a deacon.
Stephanie Shareck Werner, Ashland
The more times I tell my story, the farther back it seems I can trace the whispers of a call to serve God. It starts in Upstate New York, where I was baptized at age 6 on April 1, 1972, at the Episcopal Church of the Incarnation. I wore a long pink dress with daisies, flowers of the ‘70s – flowers of innocence and new beginnings.
There was something about the Church that felt “safe.” I stayed close to her throughout these 50+ years, trying, at times desperately, to seize on to some kind of assurance that I was OK. Because I didn’t feel OK.
It took me a long time to recognize my call. For at least two reasons. One, because I was impulsively distracted by people, places, and things that weren’t always good for me. (Jonah fleeing to Tarshish comes to mind.) And two, because that call was not to ordained life as a priest. Yet I revered the Church, especially the freedom to explore that the Episcopal Church offers. I persevered in my search.
One might wonder how I held those opposing positions for so long: deep attraction to the secular and the sacred. Even to an extreme, doesn’t that just describe our dance with sin and need for redemptive love?
A spark of clarity got my attention around 2014 when the print publication of the Virginia Diocese, The Virginia Episcopalian, published an article about its newly ordained deacons. One of them even had a career in advertising, similar to my professional path.
Later still, a female priest had been called to where I was worshipping at the time, and “for some reason” a friendship between us emerged quickly. It was she who recognized my call to ordained life as a deacon, and I seized upon a destination! Hallelujah!
I attended the discernment retreat at Richmond Hill in 2017 and formally began the process to be a vocational deacon. The words of Teilhard de Chardin guided my Parish Discernment Committee and continued to “haunt” me long after: Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
Only, I didn’t want slow work – I wanted an expedient transformation! My process was indeed slow. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t called. On the contrary. I had to learn to surrender my will for myself and discern God’s will. Unfortunately, for me, that didn’t happen in the church – at least, not the Sanctuary.
I realize now that the call has most often come to me through a story. Another part of my story and my call came through stories told in the rooms of 12-step recovery, often located in church basements! Recovery from addiction and the effects of others’ addiction in my life was another long, slow journey. It freed me from a burden that I was never meant to have.
In the Scripture, Jesus beckons us: Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Whether we suffer burnout from a substance, a circumstance, or a way of life, Jesus offers to shoulder it for us. By acknowledging the harsh realities (and how we may have contributed) and being willing to try something different, we let Him. This is how we Love Jesus – not because we’re good, but because He is good.
The Deacon’s role, harkening to Acts 6:8, lies in interpreting harsh realities about the needs, hopes, and concerns of the world to the Church (and how we may have contributed). Then we call on the Baptized to respond with the love of Christ, through their hands and feet. This is what it means to embody justice.
Being open to hurt in the world is painstaking work. It’s tempting to run away, pretend it doesn’t exist, or become preoccupied with things that aren’t our business. This work can take a long time. That’s why we don’t do it alone.
As He hung on a cross, with the life draining from him, Christ accepted the burden of sin in which every one of us is complicit. And through his Resurrection, he gave every one of us another chance, i.e. grace.
On Maundy Thursday, we acknowledge this new covenant that Christ makes with us: love one another. For me, formation was a little like being in a rock tumbler. I had a lot of rough edges that needed smoothing. That’s what it took for me to relearn how to love. And in the meantime, I had to learn how to hold the shame sacredly until God could transform it with grace.
If ever there were a time when a world needed the kind of reassurance I looked to the Church for some 50 years ago, it’s today. We live in disunity, fear, shame, anxiety and, understandably, anger!
Friends, we have a lot of work to do. Let us begin by loving one another – no questions asked! Let us begin by forgiving – seven times or seventy times seven. Let us all seek healing. And then let’s share these stories with others. This is the gospel. This is how we disciple.