Recently the Southern Baptist Convention met and expelled two congregations with that have women pastors on staff.

This might be significant, but the SBC isn’t the only Baptist game in town. Below is an excerpt from my college capstone project, written in 1999.

Women were disheartened by the SBC’s public attack on their rights and abilities to serve God in any capacity, but moderates were awakened to action. In 1986 they formed the Southern Baptist Alliance (SBA), a body which chair Henry Crouch hoped would be “a voice of conscience in the Convention.” Though many moderates did not support the SBA because they still had hopes of retaining representation in the SBC, the SBA was the first organization to lend continuing financial support to Southern Baptist Women in Ministry. Nancy Hasting Sehested’s call to the pastorate at Prescott Memorial Baptist Church in 1987 was a landmark in Southern Baptist women’s struggles to become accepted as legitimate members of the ministerial community and showed both Baptist and non-Baptist women that there were places where they could use their God-given gifts. However, when Sehested was nominated in 1988 to deliver the sermon at the Southern Baptist Convention, the nominator was swiftly ruled out of order. In 1989 moderates suffered another setback when the Foreign Missions Board denied the appointments of Greg and Katrina Pennington to the mission field when their local association pointed out that she was ordained. But in 1991 moderates formed the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship (CBF), a fringe organization of the SBC which welcomes women to participate in the worship services held when the CBF convenes. Some CBF churches allow their members to show their support for either the SBC or CBF by designating to which body their tithes are sent.

When I wrote about the Alliance of Baptists (formerly the Southern Baptist Alliance) and CBF, I had no personal connection to either body. Now I claim both as my Baptist home, and neither retains any tie to the SBC other than some shared history. The Alliance and CBF both fully welcome the ministerial gifts of women, and the Alliance is also fully committed to the inclusion of the LGTBQIA+ community in ministry. There are, of course, many other expressions of Baptist in addition to SBC, CBF, and the Alliance.

Recently the Southern Baptist Convention met and expelled two congregations with that have women pastors on staff.

This might be significant, but it wasn’t always like this. Below is an excerpt from my college capstone project, written in 1999.

Before the conservative whirlwind swept through the SBC and left its oppressive mark, women were beginning to make very slow but evident advances in the leadership arena. Women’s voice at the national level of the SBC began in 1868 when they first gathered during the annual Convention and raised money to support overseas mission work. Though a request to seat two female messengers (read: voters) at the 1885 Convention was denied (one unnamed delegate was overheard as saying, “I love the ladies, but I dread them worse”) and the SBC constitution was amended to exclude women from acting as messengers, women became an organized and recognized (though independent) voice when they established the Women’s Missionary Union (WMU) in 1888. The WMU raises funds to finance world missions, and its presence in SBC has greatly increased since its inception. Women continued their gains in the twentieth century as four women began attending classes at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in 1904 and women were granted the right to act as messengers and vote at the annual Convention in 1914. And the 190s brought great victories as a woman was elected to the vice-presidency of the SBC for the first time (1963) and as the SBC broke through the ordination barrier. The occasion did not pass without controversy, but on August 9, 1964, Addie Davis was ordained by Watts Street Baptist Church in Durham, North Carolina.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s conservative repression has discouraged but not stifled women’s efforts to serve in Southern Baptist ministry. In 1983 Nancy Hastings Sehested and thirty-two other women held a conference in Louisville, and in the course of these discussions the groundwork was laid for an organization independent of the SBC that would provide women with a network of Baptists (including both men and women) who support women in ministry. The founders of Southern Baptist Women in Ministry (SBWIM) realized the importance of helping women meet and correspond with people who understand the difficulty of finding staff positions and who encourage women in ministry even as conservatives doubt their abilities. The establishment of SBWIM touched off a conservative reaction which led to the now infamous resolution on ordination and the role of women in ministry at the 1984 Convention. The resolution proposed that since the Bible clearly relegates women to submissive roles and that “man was first in creation and woman was first in the Edenic fall,” women should not become pastors or accept any kind of church leadership role that requires them to be ordained. The motion passed with 58% of the vote. Despite the SBC’s disregard for women spiritual leaders, churches have local autonomy and can call women to ministerial positions and ordain them.

When I presented this paper at a national conference, I had many people come up to me afterward and tell me that they didn’t know that there were or ever had been women ministers in the SBC. It shows how thoroughly the SBC’s efforts at women’s erasure have been. Most Baptist women in ministry have moved on from the SBC to other Baptist denominations or networks. SBWIM, mentioned above, changed its name to Baptist Women in Ministry. It resources women in a range of Baptist denominations, and it will hold a big 40th anniversary celebration in Louisville this fall.

Significantly, because I grew up in the midst of the Baptist battles, I did not see a woman on the chancel for any reason other than singing or making an announcement until my first semester of seminary. (That must have been some kick in the pants from God for me to trust my call, never having seen women in ministry before then.) I found my way to Oakhurst Baptist Church, the congregation that ordained me, because it was in the news for being expelled from the state SBC convention for calling a gay pastor.

Recently the Southern Baptist Convention met and expelled two congregations with that have women pastors on staff.

This might be significant, but it’s not a new development. Below is an excerpt from my college capstone project, written in 1999.

Women’s struggle for respect as church leaders has been a particularly explosive issue representative of the growing rift between moderates and conservatives in the Southern Baptist Convention (a divide that has paralleled and been reinforced by the aforementioned culture war and religious realignment along conservative-progressive lines). Coinciding with increasing gender equity in the culture at large in the 1970s, many of the most influential bodies in the SBC such as Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (Kentucky) and Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary (North Carolina) became somewhat progressive in terms of gender equality, and they in fact encouraged women in ministry by holding conferences regarding women in the church and by establishing women’s centers on some campuses. In 1980 a female co-pastor at a church in Richmond baptized new Christians, and women were chairs of deacons at a few churches. However, the beginning of a holy war came in 1979 when the conservatives launched the first offensive in a plan to overtake the SBC and managed to land their candidate, Adrian Rogers, in the SBC presidency. Rogers’ bid for the presidency was successful in large part because conservative leaders had organized meetings across the country to mobilize biblical inerrantists and to encourage them to act as messengers (read: voters) at the annual meeting of the Convention. The president has the power to appoint people to many of the leadership positions in the SBC, and prior to the conservative tidal wave most presidents chose a diverse group of Baptists to represent the varied viewpoints within the SBC. However, Rogers and subsequent presidents abused their appointive powers and replaced more moderate leaders with men who had conservative tendencies. The Sunday School Board and the boards of trustees at Southern Baptist seminaries were just a few of the bodies that became theologically homogeneous.

Conservatives continued their offensive to eradicate the influence of moderates in the 1980s. At the 1980 Convention, a resolution that urged SBC institutions only to hire faculty and staff who would affirm biblical inerrancy was passed. During the same year in his address to a congregation, fundamentalist leader Paul Pressler revealed part of his political plan when he asserted that conservatives “need to go for the jugular - we need to go for the trustees [of Southern Baptist seminaries].” After forcing the inerrancy issue and overtaking many of the key positions in the SBC hierarchy, conservatives extended their agenda so that it became more social and moral in nature. Paige Patterson, who along with Pressler was the key organizer of the conservative coup, intimated in 1986 that conservative planks not only on theology but also on such issues as school prayer, abortion, and federal budget reduction would influence the future hiring policies of the SBC.

This excerpt certainly doesn’t cover everything the SBC has done to marginalize women. (And, of course, it doesn’t even touch the reality that the SBC was founded on white supremacy. I highly recommend Robert P. Jones’ book White Too Long for that history.) It is simply to show that the “issue” of women in ministry has been a live one in the SBC for a long, long time, and I believe it has little to do with theology and almost everything to do with politics and power. I allow the SBC, the denomination of my youth, to take up very little of my brain space these days. I’m called to ministry, and I don’t need the SBC to affirm that. Instead, I’d rather use the privilege that comes with not having to care about what the SBC does to lift up the amazing women in ministry that I know.

It is now just over two weeks into the Easter season. If you are a Christian minister who was in the pulpit on Easter Sunday, you could not avoid mentioning the women who were called to be the first Christian preachers.

It didn’t matter which Gospel you used. In Matthew, the Marys are commissioned by both the angel and Jesus to go tell the disciples about Jesus’ resurrection. In Mark, the young man in the tomb gives a similar directive to the Marys and Salome. In Luke, the women who had come from Galilee with Jesus encounter two men in dazzling clothes who announce to them that Jesus is alive, and the women relay this message to the disciples. And in John, Mary Magdalene is the first person to encounter the risen Christ, and he asks her to let the disciples know that he is about to return to God. The details vary from account to account, but in all of them, faithful women are first called to proclaim the resurrection, which is the heart of the Christian story.

And yet, plenty of people still believe that women are not fit for ministry. Even more think they wouldn’t make good lead pastors, even if they don’t say this quiet part out loud. I’ve written elsewhere about how churches can do the work to be ready for a female pastor. But do you know who could potentially be the best ally for clergywomen? Male senior pastors, particularly those with clergywomen in second chair positions (e.g., associate pastor or ministers of specific age groups or programs - I’ll shorthand them all as associate pastors for the purposes of this post). If that’s you, here’s what you can do:

Go by a similar title. By this I mean if you ask to be called “Pastor [your name],” call the clergywomen on your staff “Pastor [their names]” rather than simply their first names (or, heaven forbid, “Miss [their names]”). Encourage church members to address them that way too.

Close the wage gap. I cannot tell you how many churches I know of in which the male senior pastor is making six figures and the women on staff are barely making a subsistence wage. (Yes, there can be differences in levels of experience and responsibility that must be factored in, but not to the tune of an $60-80K disparity.) Find ways to raise the clergywomen’s salaries or sacrifice some of your own to make take home pay more equitable.

Advocate for a parental leave policy. Whether or not you have young children or children at all, ensure there is a just parental leave policy in place at your church. (If you’re not sure what a just policy looks like, contact your judicatory and ecumenical colleagues for examples.) If a new child comes into your family, use the policy in full so that it becomes seen as a parent thing, not a woman thing, to go on this kind of leave.

Collaborate with clergywomen whenever possible. Look for ways to partner with female clergy at your church and other churches. Don’t just limit yourself to teaming up with ordained women, though. Pull women into your church’s lay leadership pipeline.

Share credit liberally with clergywomen when genuine and appropriate. “She did this this thing. Isn’t it great?” “We did this thing together. It is wonderful to have such a great partner in ministry!” On the flip side, support clergywomen when they are attacked by critics and naysayers for illegitimate reasons.

Model good boundaries. Some lead pastors work 60+ hours a week but tell their associate pastors that they don’t want them to overfunction. It doesn’t work that way no matter how good the intention. Senior pastors set the tone for associate pastors’ (many of whom are women) expectations of themselves and churches’ expectations of the entire pastoral staffs. The associate pastors will seem less available, interested, and capable if they stick to the hours they are paid for, and they will juggle an unsustainable load (which can include parenting younger children, caring for aging parents, and carrying the mental load of the household and often that of the church) if they don’t.

Amplify female voices. Welcome your own female clergy and laity into preaching and worship leadership. Invite women outside your church to preach, teach, and lead. Look for gifts in women in your church that they don’t yet see themselves. This creates a culture of call for women. I didn’t see a woman on the chancel for any reason other than singing or making an announcement until I was in seminary. (The first time I did, I sobbed with joy and relief that I wasn’t alone or hearing God incorrectly.)

Be a great reference. Many clergywomen will eventually want to be lead pastors. Talk up your female associate pastors and other clergywomen you know to others before they even begin looking for lead pastor opportunities. (This is especially helpful since some churches now search for a pastor exclusively using informal networks and looking for ministers who aren’t currently seeking a new position.) Give them outstanding recommendations. Celebrate when they leave to take on larger roles.

If I had to boil all this down, I’d simply say, “Normalize women in leadership and share your power.” That’s easier said than done. But some male senior pastors are already doing aspects of this. (Thank you!) And what could be more true to the Gospel in this season that started with women being the first ones trusted and commissioned by the Divine to preach the good news than to support clergywomen’s voices and leadership?

Even as church life and ministry are challenging right now, I am very hopeful. One of the reasons is because I believe that all of the turnover in pastoral positions will lead to more congregations looking in different places for new kinds of leaders. I write about this phenomenon as an opportunity for congregations in the latest issue of CBF’s Fellowship Magazine. You can read the article by clicking here and navigating to page 24.

Photo by Katerina Pavlyuchkova on Unsplash.

“The progress that women ministers have made in the Southern Baptist Convention since 1980 has been encouraging, but many problems persist which prevent women from becoming accepted by the conservative-controlled Convention as church leaders called by God. The rift between conservatives and moderates is the primary barrier, and this division is the result of political and theological differences so intertwined that they are often indistinguishable. Conservatives have been phenomenally successful in their attempts to control the SBC hierarchy. They have a well-defined ideology based upon biblical inerrancy and pro-traditional family values (conservatives are able to play very effectively upon Baptists’ fears that the family is in decline), and they have productively utilized the pulpit, increasing exposure and influence in the national political forum, and a well-organized network of conservative leaders to communicate their views and mobilize support.”

I wrote these words in 1999 as part of my undergraduate thesis, in which I examined the obstacles and possibilities for Baptist women in ministry before leaping headfirst into seminary the following fall. After reading the excellent book by Kristin Kobes Du Mez on white evangelicals and the culture war, here’s what I’d go back and tell myself as a college senior:

1) It’s going to get more fraught, not less, within all of white Christian evangelicalism. Buckle up, because the culture wars will greatly impact your life long after you shed the evangelical label.

2) You don’t yet have the whole picture. The culture wars are about so much more than politics and biblical interpretation. (Spoiler alert: it really has little to do with the Bible.)

Jesus and John Wayne filled in many of the gaps for me. In the past few years I have become particularly fascinated by the geopolitics of World War II and, even more so, the Cold War. Evangelical leaders utilized Americans’ fear of the Soviet Union coming out of WWII, the military ramp-up around multiple wars in the mid to late 20th and early 21st century, a growing and well-utilized communications network (including publishing houses, radio stations, and mailing lists), increasing influence over elections and policy resulting from that communications empire, complementarian ideology that established a rigid chain of command in the home and in society, and white people’s fear of cultural erasure to divide the citizenry and claim power. Anytime it seemed that the white evangelical influence was on its way out, even sometimes due to its own financial and sex scandals, power brokers stoked that sense of embattlement to get out the vote and encourage evangelicals to make their opinions felt in other ways.

If you want to know why childcare is so expensive while women still make less money than men, why certain segments of Christianity are pro-gun and pro-war (while also often being pro-life when it comes to abortion), how white supremacy has continually been nurtured, why poor whites often vote against their economic interests, and how politicians who thumb their noses at “family values” ride waves of white evangelical support into office, read this book. It might not make you feel hopeful, but it did help me feel like I had a better grasp of this bizarro world.

Many clergywomen find themselves in the position of needing to re-invent themselves at some point. There are many reasons why. We are geographically limited. Or congregational ministry positions are drying up as church budgets shrink. Or we have small children or aging parents who need more of our attention than full-time congregational ministry allows. Or we’ve been scarred by church work. Or we have yet to find a venue that fully utilizes our gifts. Or God is at work in us, shaping a vision of what we’ve been made for. 

And so we dream about – or are forced to consider – what an out-of-the-box ministry could look like. Let me say (as someone who has been there) that I am in your corner. I’d offer these steps to you as you mull and plan.

Define your purpose in ministry. What is it that God is nudging you to do? The specific tasks aren’t as important at this point as what your overall aim is. “I create spaces for people to grow their relationships with God and one another.” “I help churches navigate change with clarity and hope.”

Free yourself up to think broadly about ministry. Many seminaries are geared to drive students toward traditional congregational ministry positions. There’s more than one way, though, to live out your purpose in ministry. What way(s) suit you and your strengths?

Consider the environment you need. What kind of space does your ministry require? Do you work best with people or on your own? What supports and/or accountability will allow you to make the most of your gifts? What equipment or resources can undergird your efforts? How important is location to your success?

Think about your financial requirements. Creating your own ministry often means leaving the world of steady pay and benefits. How much fluctuation in income can you tolerate, at least in the short term? How will you secure health insurance? Remember too that business expenses will now likely come out of your gross income, and be sure to figure that in to your projections.

Identify to whom your ministry would be good news. If God is inviting you to consider a new venture, your efforts will be valuable to others as well. Find those people, tell them what you’re mulling, and listen deeply to the feedback as you gauge their level of excitement.

Pray on it. After you’ve done all of the above, turn your data and your shoulds and coulds over to God: that would you have me do? This is a time for discernment, not decision-making.

Promote yourself. “Noooo…” you might be thinking. “I don’t want to do that. I can’t do that.” But remember those people you talked to who saw great potential in what you were thinking about. Letting those who need your ministry know that your help is available is a service to – not a burden on – them.

Set attainable targets for yourself. You have very little control over whether you net a certain number of new clients per month, so a goal like this is a recipe for frustration. You can absolutely make so many new contacts or spend X number of hours per week working on a particular project, though. These kinds of mileposts keep you moving forward.

Celebrate the flexibility you have when times are lean. Hustling is hard. It requires tenacity. You will wonder many times if you heard God correctly when you stepped out on this limb. And, you will be so glad when you don’t have to plan time away, whether it’s to attend an event your child’s school or to get away for a few days, around a million other concerns.

Find colleagues. Even if you work well alone, don’t allow yourself always to be alone. Look for people with whom you can provide mutual encouragement, space to vent, and brainstorming time.

Keep learning and growing. There’s a lot of trial and error in starting up a new venture. Instead of letting the errors discourage you, use them for further discernment. What about this particular try helped me be faithful to my purpose? What distracted me from it? Use those reflections to refine your ministry.

Be patient with yourself. You are brave. You are wise. You are innovative. You have much to offer. And, it will take time to build your ministry. Release yourself from the expectation – and the pressure that comes with it – of going from 0 to 60 in a few months.

I have found great joy in reimagining what ministry looks like for me. That does not mean it’s always been easy. It took a long time to build toward sustainability, but I can now confidently say it was worth the effort. So all the best to you in your new season of ministry. Know that I am here to help if you need it.

I know a lot of clergywomen. I run in different networks designed for them. I coach them. I am one myself. And I cannot think of a single one that is not creative, smart, and committed. Why, then, aren’t more clergywomen serving as senior pastors in big pulpits or leading middle judicatories or denominations?

Some of the reasons  are cultural and structural. Women, socialized for humility, are more likely to be shamed (by men and women) for assertively sharing their successes and ideas. Women’s contributions are sometimes co-opted by men, who repeat and get credit for what women have said, sometimes just moments before. Women often have smaller spheres of influence because of the ministry roles to which they are called, giving them less exposure for big steeple pastor searches and elections to leadership on a larger platform. That’s why I piloted a cohort called Trinit-A this fall to help the participants become more comfortable and confident sharing their successes and innovations, celebrate each other’s gifts and accomplishments in ways that encourage continued growth, and go to bat for one another and themselves in spaces dominated by male voices.

During the first session, I asked the members of the cohort what their personal hopes for our time together would be. The group named a desire to share what we learned with others. One of our chosen methods was a blog post. And so, with the cohort’s blessing, I would like to name some of the themes that emerged from our conversations.

Affirm specifics. The group members noted that often they hear their male counterparts celebrated for specific talents and tasks, while they are generally – even generically – referred to as “great,” “sweet,” or “wonderful.” They encouraged affirming in others and in ourselves particular gifts or accomplishments. That makes it more likely that the clergywoman in question will stick in hearers’/observers’ minds and will stand out more in search processes.

Re-write your bio. When we guest preach or speak or lead a retreat, we are inevitably asked for a bio to put in the bulletin and other marketing pieces. Look at yours. In what ways have you undersold your credentials? (If you’re unsure, consult with one of your biggest cheerleaders.) Then take another run at a bio that captures the fullness of your track record and abilities.

Take your rightful seat at the table. Sometimes we’re invited to the table. More often we have to invite ourselves. Either way, it’s important to show up to leadership conversations, reframing, questioning, challenging, and offering our insight on our own behalf and others.’

Network to connect others. For some, networking is still a dirty word. For others it’s not, but it feels awkward. Networking, done right, is intended to benefit both parties. But there’s a way to make it not just win-win, but win-win-win as Michael Scott would say. Consider how you can use your relationships to introduce people who would be of interest to one another but might not meet without your help. Then those people (and the ones they serve) have benefitted, and you lodge in others’ brains as someone who is connected and generous and wise about potential collaborations.

Link hands across denominational lines. Some denominations have more women in ministry than others. Regardless if you’re a pioneer or a third wave clergywoman, though, it helps to have relationships and sounding boards among female clergy in other denominations. These spaces offer perspective, a greater pool of support, and opportunities to share more honestly than is sometimes possible in small denominational worlds. They also lay the groundwork for multi-denominational collaboration.

Highlight positive voices. This fall a certain (male) evangelical leader made a big hubbub about telling a certain (female) author, speaker, and Bible teacher to return to her domicile, among other offensive statements. That incident got a lot of play on my Twitter and Facebook feeds, but it didn’t do much for women other than accentuate how entrenched the patriarchy remains. Instead of giving men who belittle women a bigger platform, the cohort advocated for pushing the voices of women and their allies. It’s just as easy to click share or retweet if you see a clergywoman doing something good or saying something insightful as it is to pass along outrageous content.

Keep track of all you do. The cohort was built on the participants’ willingness to announce recent accomplishments. There were long pauses on the first couple of calls, though, as the members scrolled through their days to remember something worth sharing. After a couple of weeks, one of the women suggested keeping a running list between calls. That shifted the conversation. Responses included, “I didn’t realize how much I do!” and “I thought this was something everyone did. It never occurred to me before now that it is a legit accomplishment.” We’re better prepared to talk about ourselves when we acknowledge all that we do.

Know that your success is my success, and vice versa. We’ve probably all heard a congregation say, “Well, we tried having a woman pastor, and it just didn’t work.” It might be decades before that church is willing to call a woman again, even though the issue was likely not the minister herself but the fit or the church’s lack of support. On the other hand, you might have also heard, “We had a woman pastor, and she was amazing. Let’s call another one.” When one of us succeeds, we broaden the path for all our colleagues.

If we announce our accomplishments and affirm and amplify each other, our whispers of giftedness and faithfulness become shouts that skeptics can’t ignore.

Thank you to this pilot cohort of Trinit-A. I enjoyed being with and learning from you so much.

If you are interested in a future Trinit-A cohort, contact me.

I first sensed a call to ministry when I was a youth. I tried to talk with my youth minister about the vocational stirring I felt, but he wouldn’t engage. I met with my pastor, who encouraged me privately. (He didn’t think our church was ready to throw support behind a woman in ministry. He was right, but he also wasn’t pushing the culture.) For a long time, then, my mentors were either strong women who weren’t clergy or clergywomen I “knew” through books and periodicals.

In seminary I found a congregation that had no qualms about bringing me on as an intern and later ordaining me. That business about women being barred from ministry because they were “first in the Edenic fall” (see: 1984 Southern Baptist Convention) seemed far removed from my burgeoning career in more progressive contexts.

And yet, it wasn’t. Microaggressions abounded among staff and congregants, sometimes making churches unpleasant places of ministry. Clergywomen peers found themselves toeing the glass cliff, looking over their shoulders at church people who were willing to “take a chance” on women’s leadership only as a last-ditch effort to slow decline – and then crowding them on that precipice when the long skid was not reversed quickly enough. Other highly-qualified women ministers noted their male counterparts professionally leapfrogging them as they heard “no” again and again from search teams. All of this was – is – happening in mainline denominations that have supposedly conquered sexism.

Let me be clear. The Church needs women in the pastorate. It is shrinking, in part, due to the lack of tenacity, wisdom, innovation, and compassion that women in ministry have to offer. Time and again, though, women pastors hear that churches are not ready for them, or these clergy realize after accepting ministry positions that congregations had misjudged their own preparedness. The ramifications for this miscalculation are huge. If a clergywoman is not successful because of the church’s failure to lay groundwork, that congregation often thinks, “Well, we tried having a woman as a pastor, and it just didn’t work out” instead of examining its assumptions. The church hesitates before calling another woman, thus missing out on deeply-needed gifts and perspectives. Additionally, that pastor might begin to question her effectiveness and call rather than her fit with the context, possibly leaving the ministry for good and ensuring that no congregation benefits from all she has to offer.

Here, then, is my attempt to give churches an assessment they can use to judge their true openness to a pastor who also happens to be a woman. (I want to thank alumnae of Young Clergy Women International for their input on the points below.) You can download a PDF of the assessment here, which I encourage you to share.

Pre-pastor search work:

• The church has had a woman in its pulpit as a guest preacher, and it referred to her sermon as such rather than as a “talk” or a “devotional.”

• Church leadership has discussed any members’ protest (such as staying home from worship or walking out before the sermon) of inviting a woman to guest preach and publicly re-affirmed support of the preacher.

• The church has had women in significant lay leadership roles (elder, deacon, warden, clerk of session, moderator, etc.) and has worked through any conflict that arose as a result of their election/selection.

• The church has eliminated exclusively male pronouns/descriptors on its website and in its social media.

• The church regularly uses curricula or other materials written by women (e.g., seminary professors, pastors) with theological authority.

Pre-interview pastor search work:

• The pastor search team is representative of the demographics and commitments of the congregation as whole, thus making it better able to reflect accurately the fullness of the church’s story to ministerial candidates.

• The pastor search team has structured its work so that it is rooted in listening deeply to God’s guidance.

• The pastor search team has discussed its assumptions and the congregation’s about a great-fit pastor, probing the reasons behind them.

• Having surfaced these assumptions, the search team has named specific competencies (rather than personality traits) as the criteria for a great-fit pastor.

• In communications with the congregation, the pastor search team has helped the church broaden its imagination about a great-fit pastor.

• The pastor search team has eliminated exclusively male pronouns/descriptors for the hoped-for pastor in all search team documents (e.g., position description, position advertisements, church profile).

• The church as a whole has earnestly prayed that God will lead it to the best-fit ministerial candidate, no matter how that candidate might differ from church members’ expectations.

• The pastor search team members have covenanted to run all questions to and about candidates through the filter of “Would we ask this of a male candidate?” (Examples of questions to be sifted out: “Who will watch your children while you’re working?” and “How will your spouse’s employment affect your ability to move here/stay here for a long time?”)

Interview/call pastor search work:

• The pastor search team is aware of and open with all candidates about potential challenges that await.

• With all candidates the pastor search team inquires about the needs of the candidate’s family to ensure hospitable on-site visits, and later, to help integrate the incoming minister’s family into the life of the congregation (to the extent the family desires).

• The church leadership has discussed the possibility of conflict arising from calling a woman (noting that this conflict might come disguised as an issue about something else) and is prepared to stand behind the candidate of choice/incoming pastor.

Ways you can use this assessment:

• Churches in pastor searches. This assessment provides a readiness test for calling a clergywoman.

• Churches with settled pastors. This assessment offers action steps to lay leaders and current pastors. (The “getting ready,” after all, doesn’t just happen. It takes intentional work. And if your church is not willing to do this work, spend some time mulling the reasons why and praying about them.) Even congregations that think they are ready to receive a clergywoman – including those who have or had women ministers – could benefit from working through the points above. Often moderate to progressive churches think they are more welcoming than they actually are.

• Clergywomen. I invite you to use this assessment in your call processes to help gauge whether a congregation might be a good fit.

• Judicatory bodies. Use this assessment to help congregations and search teams work through the steps needed to set up the possibility for long and fruitful ministries between churches and clergywomen.

Note that some aspects of this assessment can be adapted for considering a congregation’s preparedness to be led by a pastor who would be another kind of “first,” though there would be additional work specific to the variety of first. Often a candidate will be more than one kind of first – identities are intersectional, after all – making it essential for a church to take readiness steps in multiple areas.

This welcoming work is worthy of intentionality and intense listening to the movements of the Holy Spirit, and not just because of the clergyperson in question. This attentiveness and the resulting actions can lead to spiritual transformation, deeper discipleship, and increased connectedness among people and between people and God. These benefits are available to all involved.

Download a PDF of the assessment here.

I have a decade-old memory of weeding with great ferocity. In the process I was telling my husband – who had joined me in yanking up a root system that spanned the entire backyard – that I was so tired all the time. I was constantly doing, and if I wasn’t doing, I was recalling information or researching or planning. How did people find the leisure time they seemed to have? I was truly befuddled.

Part of my problem was due to my personality. I am interested in a lot of subjects, and it was (is) easy to let myself become occupied. I also have perfectionist tendencies, so it’s hard to leave projects be when they reach the “good enough” stage. But I’ve come to realize that there is another reason it is so difficult to let myself rest – mental load and emotional labor.

Mental load is bearing the responsibility of remembering all the things. Emotional labor is tending to the feelings of everyone affected by those things. Both mental load and emotional labor are both invisible and labor-intensive, draining energy and leaving us to wonder where it went. And women are culturally-conditioned to be responsible for both.

But wait, there’s more! Ministry is itself a vocation laden with emotional labor. We hold the big picture for our congregations, with all the hopes and disappointments of individual church members wrapped up in it. We sit with people in intimate moments, deeply listening to thoughts and feelings so personal they might not have been shared with anyone else.

And then…parenthood. That added layer upon layer of remembering – when was the last time my baby pooped? what did he say his best friends might like for their birthdays? what time is karate, and who will take him and pick him up? – and tending to big feelings (his and mine).

All of this hard work was brought into the light by reading Gemma Hartley’s book Fed Up: Emotional Labor, Women, and the Way Forward. I took away a couple of pieces of wisdom from the book that are currently helping me address the heaping pile of emotional labor in my own life. One is that I have to talk about all of that invisible work, proactively rather than when I am at my wits’ end. Only then can I begin to shift some of it. The second suggestion that struck me was that I am sometimes undermining my own desires to share the emotional labor load by thinking that things can only be done one way. If I have a standard that no one else can live up to, or if I go behind others to “fix” what doesn’t look like I think it should, then the emotional labor will be all mine, for all time. I must admit that my way isn’t the only or even necessarily the best way.

Where do you feel doubled-over with emotional labor? What strategies might you employ to hand some of it off, not just so that you can breathe but also so that others can enjoy the breadth and depth of emotional and relational life?

When I was growing up, I thought being a strong woman – since “strong” is a stereotypically masculine virtue – meant that I had to reject anything associated with femininity. I didn’t wear pink. I refused to learn how to cook. I cut my hair short. I played on the boys’ church league basketball team. (In fact, my short hair and blousy basketball jersey combined with a referee’s poor eyesight prompted him to refer to me – game after game – as “little man.”) I sought ordination and a ministry position in the Baptist world, even though I had only seen men in those roles.

So no one was more surprised than me when I bought a sewing machine ten years ago to make kitchen curtains for my new house. I then made placemats, napkins, pillows, and other domestic items in addition to some clergy stoles. I realized that I loved sewing, dangit. And, as it turned out, I was no less strong than I’d been pre-Singer. I began to understand that the feminine-masculine binary was not just hurtful but false. I deeply regretted subconsciously buying into the message that male (again, defined stereotypically) was better and female was lesser. I wondered what other joys I had deprived myself of in the effort not to be too girly.

Masculine-feminine binaries are not the only ones that keep us from living abundantly, however. At Nevertheless She Preached, Jaime Clark-Soles talked about the way traditional interpretations of the Martha-Mary relationship sort their roles into bad and good. In Luke 10 Mary chooses the “better part” by sitting at Jesus’ feet while Martha is “distracted by her many tasks” (NRSV). But the latter descriptor is more accurately translated as “drawn away into much ministry,” with the Greek word for ministry used by and about Paul elsewhere in Acts and the Epistles. We have falsely pitted Mary and Martha against each other for millenia while both were attending to aspects of the life of faith.

In congregational life binaries translate into polarities, either/or pairings that are better viewed as both/and. Should we be a church that cares for those who are already here or that goes into the community to share God’s love? Should we have traditional or contemporary worship? Should we be pastor-led or lay-led? Generally, the answer to all of these questions is “yes.” Too often we think we cannot do or be both and must choose. But polarities cannot – should not – be solved, only managed, in order for us to accept the fullness of the work and the abundance that God wants for us.

These days, I wear pink (and most days, a skirt). I’m a mom who revels in that role. I’ve also cut my hair short again and enjoy crude jokes way more than I should. My strength and joy are enhanced, not diminished, by this complexity. Where do you need to rename binaries as polarities, and what do you and the people you care about require to thrive that in-between space?

[Note: this is the fourth of four posts inspired by the Nevertheless She Preached conference.]

When have you been told that you were too much?

Too intimidating?

Too emotional?

Too opinionated?

Too invested?

Too smart?

Too beautiful?

The church and the world often tell women that we are too…too…too. Our too-muchness makes people uncomfortable. Our too-muchness threatens the status quo. And yet, the church and the world need our too-muchness. As Tectonic plates shift beneath the church and culture, women have the insight and innovation that can result in a more just and sustainable society.

AnaYelsi Velasco-Sanchez, an IndoLatinx mujerista and faith-based organizer, spoke about reclaiming our too-muchness at Nevertheless She Preached. She said that people want to celebrate the survival of women who have experienced trauma. They often do not, though, want to celebrate what made it possible – our too-muchness.

This too-muchness is both forged in circumstances and God-given. As a matter of faithfulness, then, we must lean into our too-muchness. But how do we do that?

• Think about when you have felt most powerful. What made it possible for you to claim your strength? What influence do you have in recreating these conditions?

• Think about when you have felt least powerful. What were the circumstances? Which of these circumstances can you change or work around in the future in order to claim more of your strength?

• Who affirms you in your too-muchness? How might you amplify those supportive voices?

• Whom can you affirm in their too-muchness? How might you go about it?

• How has your too-muchness served you well? How might you remind yourself of those good outcomes on a regular basis?

• What does it look like to be grateful for your God-given too-muchness?

I hope that these questions provide some points of reflection for wearing your too-muchness with pride and helping others do the same.

[Note: this is the third of four posts inspired by the Nevertheless She Preached conference.]

Note: I wrote but did not publish this reflection one year ago upon attending my last The Young Clergy Women Project/Young Clergy Women International conference. I offer it now as clergywomen from a number of denominations and locales gather in St. Louis.

I departed my first – the first – Young Clergy Women Project conference in inner turmoil. In 2007 I was floundering in ministry. As a moderate-to-progressive Baptist, congregations in northwest Alabama that aligned with my theology were scarce, and open positions in them were rare. Yet as the spouse of a United Methodist pastor under appointment, I had no say in where I lived. Just before the conference I was called to a staff position at a nearby church. This opportunity was a huge relief to my self-esteem and my bank account. I would be in ministry full time! With benefits! My start date was set for the Sunday after I returned home from the conference at the Cathedral College of Preachers in Washington, DC.

My relief morphed into exhilaration and then plummeted to an “oh, crap” feeling over the course of the TYCWP conference. Something in me was unleashed through that gathering of clergywomen, through our study and practice of homiletics. Maybe it was my preaching voice. Maybe it was clarity about the shape of my call. Maybe it was a sense that I was settling for a position that didn’t match my gifts in a setting that had already shown glimmers of toxicity. Whatever it was, it told me I had no business beginning my new position. As I traveled home, my husband was on a retreat and unavailable to help me process. My parents could only commiserate. So I went to work that Sunday, a sour feeling in my gut.

As you might imagine, the eight months I served at that church were not pretty. (I claim my part in the debacle. I was too fearful to heed the gut-jabbing elbows of the Holy Spirit.) In the end, I was forced out. I probably would no longer be in ministry after that experience. Except…I now had a community of YCWs who had helped me claim a new understanding of my ministry at the conference. Who afterward accompanied me through the many low points of my short-lived job. Who picked me back up when I was emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and sometimes even physically prostrate following my resignation.

And so, as frantic as my inner monologue and as chaotic as my vocational life became out of that first TYCWP conference, I couldn’t imagine not going to the next one. In fact, I’ve been to all of them but one, which got pushed off my calendar by a mission trip. All of them have been great. A few have been life-altering.

The conference is (by far) my most extroverted week of the year, when I float between groups of conference participants, skip naps and stay up late for conversations – if you know me well, you get that this is not my usual M.O. – and drink up all the wisdom and laughter I can. Those of us who have been attending conferences since those early days get to check in annually after tracking one another’s family additions and losses, changes in positions, and cross-country moves on social media throughout the year prior. Those of us older young clergy women also get to welcome first-time attendees and learn about the latest practices and resources from pastors just coming out of seminary.

This month’s Young Clergy Women International conference – the organization, like my own tenure in ministry, is no longer tenuous – was my last one, as I’ll turn 40 shortly. It felt like coming full circle. I arrived at the closing worship with a settled spirit, celebrating that I am feeling more creative and productive in ministry than ever before. After the sermon, proclaimer Casey Wait asked each participant to describe herself with a single word, to tell that word to another YCW, and to receive affirmation and anointing from that colleague. My word came immediately: encourager. Some YCWs laughed and nodded in confirmation when I told them my word.  I am an encourager. I am an encourager because so many YCWs have encouraged me by recognizing and calling forth my gifts, by sharing with me about the amazing ministry they are doing, and by telling me to rock my new haircut. I am who I am as a person and pastor in large part because of this community. And I am ready to leave it in the capable hands of young clergy women, which I no longer am, and support it from afar as I re-join friends who have gone on to the alumnae group.

Bless you, YCWI. Keep on doing great things for the people of God, in the name of God.

Walking with swagger. Talking over and down to people. Taking credit for others’ ideas. Overestimating one’s abilities. These are the hallmarks of arrogance. Too often those around us – and sometimes even we ourselves – mischaracterize these actions as confidence.

This is another reason I believe that many women are put off from claiming their self-assurance. In last week’s post I talked about our difficulties getting past perfectionism and embracing failure. Just as abhorrent to us, though, is the thought of being lumped in with people who are unable to read the other people in the room and honor their contributions.

Confidence, at its heart, is our ability to trust our own competence and experience. It affects perception – our own and others’ of us – and our actual performance. But it is not a one-size-fits-all suit. As Katty Kay and Claire Shipman point out in The Confidence Code, we can tailor confidence to our personality and, when needed, our environment. In fact, we have to custom-make it, or else we’ll look like someone playing dress-up. And we’ll lose any of the benefits to our sense of self and people’s views of us that confidence offers.

Authentic self-assurance must include an ever-growing understanding of ourselves and a willingness to act (and to fail). It has to avoid denial of our gifts and contributions, our growing edges and shortcomings. Beyond these parameters, however, we can define how we show up as confident people. We can be humble. We can collaborate and share credit. We can be quietly self-possessed.

Don’t let anyone convince you that you must be braggy and bossy to show confidence, if that’s not your style. Rest in your belief that that’s not you, and carry on in your perfectly-suited self-assurance.

“The Joe Lamb Award for Outstanding Youth Leadership goes to Laura Stephens.” I remember where in the worship space I was sitting, what I was wearing, and how doubtful I was that my jelly-fied legs would carry me to the front. I had never considered myself a leader in youth group. For that matter, up until the year prior, I wouldn’t even have called myself a willing participant in anything church-related. But with this public recognition of my gifts, a sense of call began to awaken within me. And my longtime struggle with the lack of inclusive language and female ministerial leadership in the Southern Baptist Convention intensified, because as a lifelong Baptist I saw no clear path for living into my call.

So I did what all nerds do when they run up on a problem: I studied. In my last two years of college I researched and wrote an honors thesis (very wordily) entitled “Attempting to Eschew The Handmaid’s Tale: The Interplay of Denominational Politics, Biblical Interpretations, and Women’s Ordination in the Southern Baptist Convention.” Through this project I learned about how women were gaining ground in Baptist leadership until the well-orchestrated fundamentalist takeover of the SBC in the 1980s. I read how the Convention’s adoption of a resolution that blamed women for the fall of humankind was critical to the fundamentalists’ platform. And I noted that the banning of women from ordination and the relegation of women to complementary status was essential to the fundamentalists’ plans to retain power over the long haul.

What then was I to do as a Southern Baptist woman called to ministry, now educated in the forces I was up against? My first impulse was to run from Baptist life like my hair was on fire. I went to a United Methodist seminary. I started denomination-shopping on Sunday. Nowhere felt homey to me. Then one evening I was watching the late news in my apartment. A local Baptist congregation was being disfellowshipped from the state convention for its inclusivity. I was in a pew at this church the next Sunday. Women prayed from the pulpit. I had never witnessed even this, much less a woman preaching. I cried in my seat.

This church was starting a Wednesday night series on what it means to be Baptist. A professor from a nearby seminary spoke about Baptists’ emphasis on the freedom to relate directly with God, to read and interpret the Bible for ourselves, to be ministers to one another, and to make decisions at the congregational level. I claimed this historical way of being Baptist nineteen years ago, and I affiliated with Baptist networks who hold these fragile freedoms dear. Though I have worked outside the Baptist world at times, I have always been clear about who I am and where my home is.

Because of my winding journey through Baptistdom, I am both close to and distant from, unsurprised and grieved about recent revelations of various abuses perpetrated against women by past and current Southern Baptist Convention powerbrokers. Part of me says, “The SBC’s doubling-down on inequality was always heading toward this reckoning, and this has not been my fight for nearly two decades.”

But that’s not true.

Anytime a person created by God is emotionally or physically harmed, we are all accountable for calling out the violence.

Anytime a person uses God as an excuse to abuse, we all must rise up and proclaim our belief in a God who loves and wants good for us all and who privileges the downtrodden.

Anytime our sisters are treated as less than, we all must point out that there is no male or female in Christ Jesus.

So this is my fight. And yours, no matter what your relationship (or lack of) to the SBC. Because as members of God’s one family, our flourishing is tied to each other’s. And this flourishing is rooted in healthy practices and policies, right relationships and righteous resolutions.

There is no such thing as benevolent patriarchy. Wherever there is inequality, the table is set for one group to exercise – misuse – power over another. May we all claim the power of love and justice so that all people might know safety, access to resources, and paths for living into the fullness of their personhood.

Recently Truett Theological Seminary at Baylor University published its list of the twelve most effective preachers in the English-speaking world. This roster was compiled from a national survey that garnered 179 respondents and based on criteria suggested by homiletics professors.

There are a number of issues with the list, as perceptive people in my social media feeds have pointed out. Some of the preachers do not serve a local church. (Powerful preaching – as judged by the criteria for this list – is easier when study and writing don’t have to be worked around the demands of full-time congregational ministry and the need for a fresh sermon every week.) Diversity in every measure is severely lacking. One guy on the list has been dead for nine months. And that’s just for starters.

I’ve seen some conversations about coming up with alternative criteria for making a list that more fully plumbs the depth and breadth of sermonizing. I really like this open-ended list I like from Nevertheless, She Preached, which recognizes that competitive preaching is not a sport that aligns with the gospel. I’d also like to tell you whom I think is an effective preacher:

You.

Why?

Because I know you work hard on your preaching craft, studying scripture and honing your delivery.

Because I know you minister faithfully to and alongside the people in your care, allowing their questions and concerns to provide the scaffolding for your sermons.

Because I know you make yourself vulnerable through your proclamation while taking care not to bleed all over the chancel.

Because I know you love your church enough to comfort and gently challenge from the pulpit.

Because I know you pray for the Spirit to work through your presence and your words, bridging the distance between what you have prepared and what each hearer needs to grow in faith.

Because I know you take to heart every word of feedback about your sermons – maybe too much so – earnestly wanting to improve as a homiletician.

Because I know that God is using you to bring the reign of God ever closer.

I don’t need a list to know all these things. In fact, I don’t believe the most effective preachers will show up on any wide-swath list. They are too busy doing the work of ministry in their own contexts. They don’t have time or use for being celebrities whose names will be well-known enough to be included on a nationwide survey.

I see you, your efforts, and their fruits. More importantly, your congregation and community see you. Carry on, effective preacher.

A recent article in the Harvard Business Review highlights the ways different types of tasks are unevenly distributed in work environments. Glamour work encompasses highly-visible, big picture assignments that set the doer up for recognition and promotion. Office housework includes all the tasks that are necessary to keep things moving – such as taking notes, managing schedules, caffeinating colleagues, and making sure there aren’t science experiments growing in the office refrigerator – and that go largely unnoticed. Not surprisingly, HBR found that women and people of color are much more likely to find themselves stuck with this essential-yet-thankless work.

While HBR’s research was geared toward the business world, the same realities apply in ministry. Women and people of color often serve in positions that are more likely to result in lateral moves than in increased responsibility and credibility and the pay that go with them. One reason is socialization. We* are conditioned to be the ones to keep the trains moving. Others expect us to be good at it, which we often are. We have been encouraged to be humble, and we’re punished when we’re perceived as being braggy, bossy, or bitchy. Another reason is exceptionalism: when one of us manages to break that stained-glass ceiling, it’s because she is an extraordinarily-gifted anomaly.

Since many of us minister in systems where 1) we are called by laypeople rather than assigned by a superior and 2) judicatory leaders intervene into unhealthy and unjust systems infrequently, what do we do in order to claim more of those “glamourous” roles? Here are a few thoughts:

Maintain a robust web presence. On the internet we can communicate the fullness of our ideas without interruption. True, we might have to deal with trolls and mansplainers. But they cannot edit our original thoughts, which we can then share through social media.

Own your purpose. Clarify what you have been called to do, the strengths and qualities you have for that work, and the ways you have already been inhabiting the fullness of your call. This is essential to owning pastoral identity, which has a noticeable impact on your pastoral presence. This specificity will also help you sort what tasks – many of which likely fall into the office work category – to say no to.

Amplify one another. Even when we feel we can’t toot our own horns, we can toot someone else’s. Make a pact (spoken or unspoken) with other people who are going underappreciated to do this for one another.

Tell stories. If saying, “I did this thing and that thing and here’s how it was a rousing success” seems icky to you, work on your telling of an anecdote that relays that same information in a way that helps other people know and like you as they’re learning about what you’re capable of.

Ask for feedforward. The standard annual review can mix a negative tape that plays in your head for the next twelve months. Instead, help your leaders structure a conversation that helps you think about how you’d like to grow in ministry together, setting you all up for bigger and better things.

Network as much as you can. Go to conferences. Connect with people in the kinds of positions you’d eventually like to see yourself in. Look for committees doing transformational work to join.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the church is experiencing the pangs of something new as women and people of color struggle/begin to emerge from the background. The more even distribution of office housework and our ability to move into glamour roles will promote innovation, collaboration, and renewed faithfulness to the mission God has for us all.

*I can only speak personally from the perspective of a white woman. I am relying on the stats in the HBR article plus conversations and a range of reading to assert that people of color share some of these same experiences, likely amplified. I welcome dialogue and am open to correction.

Last week I had the privilege of facilitating a pastoral leadership workshop at the Young Clergy Women International conference in Vancouver, British Columbia. My goals in that hour and a half were to ask coaching questions that allowed participants to

• name their strengths and consider how to operate out of them,

• articulate how they want to show up in their ministry settings,

• identify the helps for and barriers to showing up in those ways, and

• begin to make a plan for utilizing the resources and maneuvering around the roadblocks.

I want to share the discussion prompts I offered in that sacred space in the hopes that they might be useful to you as well.

Naming and claiming strengths

• What energizes you in ministry?

• When have you felt most like you were living fully into your call? (Responses can include one-off and recurring situations.)

• What do your responses to these two questions tell you about your strengths?

Showing up authentically

• How do you want to show up as a pastoral leader in your ministry setting?

• When have you shown up this way? (If you’re not sure, try to imagine your leadership through the eyes of a congregant, lay leader, or judicatory leader.)

• What has made showing up this way possible?

Utilizing resources and managing barriers 

• What tapped and untapped resources do you have for showing up the way you want?

• How might you best utilize these resources?

• What keeps you from showing up the way you want?

• How do you remove the barriers you can control and maneuver around the barriers you can’t control?

Putting it all together

• Given what you have learned about yourself and your context from your responses to these questions, what is the first step toward living more fully into your pastoral leadership potential? In other words, what is the lowest-hanging fruit for drawing on your strengths, taking into account how you want to show up, maximizing helpful conditions, minimizing obstacles, and putting the tools at your disposal to good use?

While I think these are useful questions, what made them powerful was the workshop participants’ willingness to create spaces for candid conversation. Since there were 25-30 people in the room, I asked them to divide themselves into dyads or triads to respond to the questions. The women shared deeply and offered invaluable observations and encouragement to one another. These questions, then, are good for reflection but much more transformative when used as a discussion guide.

She was warned that women could not hold positions of authority over men. She was given an explanation, straight from the Bible. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women should not be assertive. She was given an explanation: she might be perceived as shrill. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women should not show vulnerability. It was explained to her that she could be dismissed as soft or emotional. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women should not lead in ways authentic to them. She was given an explanation, that women must lead like men to be taken seriously. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women could not be both pastor and parent. She was given an explanation: the concern that women would not be able to live fully into both callings. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women should not wear clothes, shoes, or makeup that would draw attention to their bodies. It was explained to her that such choices would not just be distracting to others, but possibly even prompt inappropriate thoughts. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that pastors should not also be people who acted on their own convictions in the public sphere. She was given an explanation, that ministers must not alienate the people in their care. Nevertheless, she persisted.

She was warned that women should not challenge assumptions. She was given an explanation, that they would make too many people uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she persisted.

Clergywomen – and women in general – have always been the recipients of status quo warnings and unnecessary or inaccurate explanations. Still, we persist.

Keep on keepin’ on, brave and beautiful souls. Our persistence embodies faithfulness, courage, hope, and beauty that the world desperately needs.

Recently the Lewis Center for Church Leadership published a fantastic article about how congregations can welcome and support their female ministers. The piece speaks to some of the fears that search committees have when considering a woman for a ministry position. It also raises awareness about  the small but significant ways that clergywomen are treated differently than clergymen. In doing so, the post names and dispels many of the assumptions about women in ministry. With that slate clear, what can churches expect from their female clergy?

Clergywomen love Jesus. We are not in ministry for the money (most of us are paid less than our male counterparts) or the notoriety (the stained glass ceiling is real). And we definitely have not pursued this vocation because it is the path of least resistance. We’re here because we are drawn to the message and model of Christ.

Clergywomen know their scripture. For many of us, Paul’s epistles have long been used as a barricade to the pulpit. That means we’ve had to steep ourselves in the Bible, studying its words, arcs, and historical/cultural context so that we can be confident we’ve discerned correctly and so that we can be faithful in forming others.

Clergywomen have been vetted, then vetted some more. At every level of examination, someone is looking for a reason not just to exclude each one of us as individuals, but also to use our personal shortcomings (real or imagined) as grounds not to grant pastoral authority to any woman. If we clear these hurdles, you’d better believe we are capable.

Clergywomen have had their mettle tested. Women in ministry are criticized for our hair, age, fashion choices, voice, family situation, and many other variables that are irrelevant to ministry – and that men are rarely evaluated on. And the “acceptable” leadership style for a woman (in any professional field, really) falls in a miniscule range between too soft and too assertive. Experienced in dealing with discouragements around these matters on a regular basis, we are not easily scared off from the legitimate difficulties of church work.

Clergywomen have a deep, DEEP sense of call. Women have their calls to ministry questioned all the time. Sometimes it happens in plain talk (e.g., “I believe women should never teach men”), and on other occasions it manifests by such means as second-guessing, talking to a female pastor as if she is the speaker’s daughter or granddaughter, asking where the “real” pastor is, or using diminutive terms (Miss Laura, Pastorette). As a result, clergywomen check in with God about their calls on a regular basis, asking for guidance and courage to live toward the purpose we’ve been given.

Clergywomen are endlessly creative. When there are so many hurdles not just to serving faithfully, but also finding a place to serve to begin with, women have to call upon all our gifts. We can think beyond our assumed constraints because we must – and the church and her people are the beneficiaries of our innovation.

Many clergywomen are backed by a fierce tribe, which provides its members with wisdom and support. When a congregation calls a female minister, it gets the bonus of a magnificently insightful hive mind. (Note: if you are a woman in ministry who has not yet found her tribe, look for it! Here are two places to start. And as a coach I would be thrilled to be your encourager and thought partner via a coaching relationship.)

Imagine your congregation could find all of these qualities in a minister, plus the particular skills and graces of a ministerial candidate. What great things for God could you do together?