Last week, I posted the following on my Facebook page (give it a follow if you haven’t already!). It seemed to be meaningful to some, so I thought I’d share it here too:

To my female fellow pastor/preacher:

Yesterday, I learned of the Southern Baptist Convention’s overwhelmingly affirmative (an ironic word) vote to reinforce its lack of recognition of your call to pastor and preach.

I felt a lot of emotions yesterday: anger, frustration, sadness, self-righteousness, frustration, passion, disgust. But at the end of the day, only one emotion remained: sadness.

Discerning and pursuing a call to ministry is hard. Pastoring is hard. Preaching is hard. Rewarding, often. But hard.

And I say that as a man. A man who, when I was a boy sharing with people that I was feeling called to ministry, was supported. Who was encouraged with “You’ll make a great pastor,” “You’ve got such a great preaching voice,” and “I’m not surprised.”

Rarely did I ever experience resistance to my call to ministry because of who God made me to be. Nobody ever said, “You’re a boy. You can’t do that. Why not be a baseball player or a stay at home dad, and just volunteer as a Sunday School teacher? And if you really feel called to ministry, you could work with children.” Nobody ever looked at me and thought that I had the gift but not the gender.

I have no idea what it’s like to be in your shoes. To walk into a hospital or a social club or a school and receive squinted eyes when I tell them I’m a pastor. To be the only pastor in a room that looks like me. To wonder if I should even introduce myself as a pastor.

The closest thing I can imagine it feels like is when people talk about how young I am. Which, frankly, was one of my least favorite things to hear when I entered into pastoral ministry (thank you, gray hairs, for helping me these days). It made me mad. I’d think: “You think all that training was for nothing? You think I can’t pastor you? What about all those young people in Scripture God used?” 

But that’s something I’ll grow out of. There will be a time when—for the very last time—someone uses my age to disqualify me as a pastor and preacher.

But you’ll never grow out of it. You’ll always be a woman and you’ll always be a pastor. But so many in the world will look at one of those and disqualify the other.

So I’m sad. Sad that you have to carry an extra—a heavy—burden as a pastor.

My fellow pastor and preacher: I have no idea what it’s like to be you. But I know you’re a pastor. I know you’re a preacher. And, much more importantly, I know that God and Scripture affirm you as a pastor and a preacher.

——

After writing this yesterday evening, one more emotion joined the sadness, like a match lit in a dark room: gratitude.

Gratitude for the female pastors’ influence in my life.

I am not who I am without you. I am not the pastor and preacher I am without you.

Without Christina, I wouldn’t feel the freedom to be myself as a preacher.
Without Jessica, I wouldn’t know how to lead or empower other leaders as a pastor.
Without Haley, I wouldn’t think about how to equip people to live out sermons in their spiritual practices.

I could go on and on, with names as diverse as the gifts God has given each pastor/preacher: Amy. Allyce. Emily. Hannah. Sarah. Carolyn. Janet. Logan. Rebecca. And many, many, many more.

Each female pastor/preacher I have known—closely, or not—has shaped me to be a better person, a better pastor, a better preacher.

So thank you. And please, pastor and preach. God has called you to this. We need you.

I am sad. But I am grateful.

With love and support,
Your brother and fellow pastor/preacher in Christ