[This semester, I am taking a class called Vocational Discernment for a Sustained Life of Ministry. Our first assignment was to write a creative conversation in which we discuss our call to ministry with another person. This is my paper.]
I have been going on a lot of dates lately and inevitably at some point
during the date, the conversation turns to how I am in seminary and that
I am a Quaker. Here is an only slightly exaggerated version of how
those conversations go.
DATE: So, you’re in seminary. Does that mean you want to be a minister?
ME: Actually, I already am a minister. I was recorded as a minister by my Quaker meeting last June.
DATE: Recorded? What does that mean?
ME:
Quakers do not have ordination―we believe that only God can ordain
ministers. Instead, Friends observe and record the gifts of ministry.
My meeting observed my gifts of minister over several years, then I
went through a recording process, and the meeting recorded me as a
minister in a special business meeting.
DATE: I don’t really know much about Quakers. How are they different from other denominations?
ME:
Quakers believe that everyone has direct access to God. Instead of
looking outside ourselves for guidance, we turn to the inward Christ, or
the light of God that we believe is inside of each of us to guide us.
DATE: If we all have God inside of us, why do Quakers need to get together in groups? Can’t you just turn inward?
ME:
A couple reasons. One is that we are not always good at discerning
what is coming from God and what is coming from us. Our Quaker meetings
help us to tell the difference. Also, we believe that God can speak to
us through anyone, so during our meetings, we wait in silence to see if
anyone will feel led by God to speak.
DATE: Wait, do you hear God talking to you?
ME:
Yes, I believe I do. I hear God in the things that other people say
to me, and in the things they do without speaking. I also hear God in
messages in meeting, and in nudges that I feel throughout the day to do
or not do something, or to hold someone in prayer.
DATE: But have you ever heard God speak to you directly, with words?
ME: Yes. That doesn’t happen very often, but I have experienced it.
DATE: Can you tell me about a time when it happened?
ME: A good example is the story that I consider my call to ministry.
It
was in 2008, at the Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology
Conference. I enjoyed the conference very much, but by the end of it, I
felt exhausted and very ready to go home. I had agreed to be co-clerk
of the planning committee for the next conference, and I was feeling
overwhelmed because I had never done anything like that before.
I was sitting in our final worship for the conference when I
heard God say to me, “It’s not always going to be this easy.”
I said, “What?” Of all the words I could think of to describe my experience at the conference, “easy” was not one of them.
God responded, “Yes, this is the easy part. It is going to be a lot harder after this. But I will be there too.”
DATE: Wow. That sounds intense.
ME: It was.
DATE: Has it been hard?
ME:
Yes, sometimes ministry has been very hard. I tend to resist
God―mostly out of fear―making it harder for myself. But I have always
had the sense that God is with me.
DATE: I get the sense that for you, ministry means something different from being a pastor of a church. Is that right?
ME:
Being a pastor is one form of ministry, but I do not feel called to
pastoral ministry right now. My ministry has taken lots of forms: I
have done traveling ministry among different branches of Friends, I lead
workshops and preach, and I do quite a bit of writing. I try to stay
open to what I feel God is calling me to do.
DATE: But what about seminary? Why go to seminary if you are already a minister?
ME:
One reason is that I carry a concern for supporting
leaders in the Religious Society of Friends. We don’t always do a good
job of supporting leaders, and I wanted to go to a school that was clear
in its support of leadership and bring what I learned there back to my
denomination.
I was also hoping that seminary would help me learn how
to have a sustained life of ministry. Burnout is far too common, and I
would like to be able to do this for as long as I feel God is calling
me.
DATE: I know that you are also a lawyer. Are you planning to continue practicing law?
ME:
I am doing some legal work while I am in seminary to help pay the
bills, but I am hoping to transition to full-time ministry over the next
few years.
DATE: And you’re from Alaska? Are you planning on going back there after you finish seminary? Or back to Oregon?
ME: Probably not. I love the Pacific Northwest, but I will probably go wherever I find a job.
DATE: It sounds like you are going through a lot of changes in your life right now!
ME: Indeed. How about you? Let’s talk about you for a while!
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Recorded Minister Report for 2013
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” Matthew 18:20.Shortly after Freedom Friends Church recorded my gifts of ministry in June 2013, I had a couple opportunities for public ministry. On June 30 to July 6, I led a five-day workshop on Convergent Friends at the FGC Gathering, and I had the opportunity to preach at Camas Friends Church on July 28. I also found I had many opportunities, both formal and informal, to use my gifts. I clerked a conference call clearness committee for a Friend who was discerning how to leave her job, and I was approached by several (mostly young) Friends, online and in person, to talk about topics that have been important for me over the past several years, such as the gift of prophecy, being a woman in ministry, and how it feels to be led to give vocal ministry. My primary focus during that time, however, was the transition from my life in Salem to beginning seminary in Atlanta. It was a full, emotional, and surprisingly productive summer!
On August 19, the cats and I flew across the country to our new home in Atlanta. Orientation at Candler School of Theology began two days later. The transition was harder than I expected, and my experience at Candler so far has been decidedly mixed. There are things that I love about studying at Candler: my classes are interesting, the professors are brilliant and entertaining, and my classmates are thoughtful and kind. I am especially excited about getting to take practical classes such as Nonprofit Leadership and Management and Vocational Discernment for a Sustained Life of Ministry. As part of my contextual education, I spend Mondays as a chaplain intern at a women’s prison located about an hour north of Atlanta; that is one of the highlights of my week. I also enjoy singing in a choir for credit.
But in the first few weeks of my time at Candler, the administration decided to give an alumni award to Eddie Fox, a man who has been extremely vocal in the fight to prevent full equality for LGBT people in the United Methodist Church. I ended up in tears in a meeting with the dean and other students and faculty, saying how hurt I felt by the decision to give this award and questioning whether, as an out bisexual, I was really welcome at Candler. In response to this controversy, an alum wrote that she feels Candler is “welcoming but not affirming,” and I have to agree. It was especially disappointing for me because that is not the way Candler presents itself in its promotional materials. One positive outcome is that I quickly connected with the LGBT group at Candler (Sacred Worth), and I have felt very supported by the Emory Office of LGBT Life and other allies on campus.
Another source of support has been friends at Atlanta Friends Meeting. It was easy to decide which Quaker meeting to attend in Atlanta because there is only one! Atlanta Friends reminds me a lot of University Friends Meeting in Seattle, both in size and culture, and Friends there have been very welcoming. I became a sojourning member in October and I anticipate joining a meeting committee soon. I have also asked the meeting for a support committee.
In November, I had the opportunity to attend a School of the Spirit spiritual renewal weekend in Durham, NC. I also got to spend the night before the retreat with Friends at Wings of Dawn Farm. It was wonderful to see so many friends from my School of the Spirit class and others. I found while I was there that the planned theme of the renewal weekend (on loss and failure) was not speaking to me, so I spent most of the weekend on a true retreat, taking time for quiet rest and reflection. It was good for my soul and reminded me of my need to incorporate more times of retreat into my daily life.
I have continued to do some writing, though writing on my blog ebbs and flows as usual. I published a piece on working with an elder in the Western Friend book An Inner Strength: Quakers and Leadership, which came out in July. I have an upcoming article in Friends Journal on the importance of financial support for ministry. I have also been doing a fair amount of writing for my seminary classes and expect to do more this semester.
I feel that my self-care during this time of transition has been good. My course load last semester felt manageable and I did not do very much paid legal work. I have been intentional about my spiritual practices: setting aside time in the morning for prayer, reading a chapter of the Bible each night, taking Saturday as a sabbath from schoolwork, and getting regular exercise. I have begun meeting monthly with a spiritual director, and Aimee M and I have kept up a spiritual friendship, checking in with each other over the phone every few months.
Looking ahead, the biggest thing on the horizon is that I will be giving a plenary message at the FWCC Consultation in High Point, NC on April 11. I am preparing the message in advance so it can be translated into Spanish for simultaneous interpretation. I hope to spend next summer working in Salem, and I have offered to lead a workshop on prayer at the Pacific Northwest Quaker Women’s Theology Conference. My New Year’s resolution this year is discernment for a sustained life of ministry, and I have already found several opportunities to practice discernment!
I am grateful to all of you at Freedom Friends Church for your love, prayers, and support, as well as for the gift of my recording this year. I am holding you in prayer as you meet for yearly meeting, and I look forward to seeing you next summer.
Love,
Ashley
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Prison Mondays
I used to have an office with a desk that overlooked some trees, where I would sit at my computer and do legal work. This semester, I sometimes think my office is a corner in a prison hallway next to a trash can. I stand there while an inmate sits on the lid of the trash can, telling me what is on her heart.
Prison is loud and chaotic. The dorms where I work as an intern are L-shaped, with open shared rooms down one hall and a day room on the other hall. The rooms each have four sets of bunk beds and the lights never completely turn off. It is nearly impossible to find a place for private conversation.
Sometimes I sit in the day room, talking with women or waiting for them to come to me. Other times, I sidle up to a woman as she is sitting on the trash can, one of the quieter places in the dorm. I ask if she wants to talk or if she would rather be left alone. The other chaplain interns and I have found that the women are more likely to talk with us if we stand next to them instead of in front of them.
The women tell me about their children and their grandchildren (the majority are mothers). They worry about sick family members and pray for the day that they will be able to return home. Once I stood next to a woman whose eyes filled with tears as she told me that she had been driving drunk and the passenger in her car was killed in an accident. "Will his family ever forgive me?" she asked. "Will the pain ever go away?"
It's not all hard and heavy. The women and I laugh together and share stories. They tell me about the day-to-day frustrations of being in prison, and I agree that it must be hard. They ask me questions about esoteric Bible verses (Jude 1:9, anyone?) and show me pictures of their families.
The women want to know what I can do for them. Can I get them a bar of soap, deliver a letter, help them get into a class? I tell them that I am there to listen. We can talk about God if they want, or we can pray together, but mostly I am just there to be with them. Some days, that's enough.
Prison is loud and chaotic. The dorms where I work as an intern are L-shaped, with open shared rooms down one hall and a day room on the other hall. The rooms each have four sets of bunk beds and the lights never completely turn off. It is nearly impossible to find a place for private conversation.
Sometimes I sit in the day room, talking with women or waiting for them to come to me. Other times, I sidle up to a woman as she is sitting on the trash can, one of the quieter places in the dorm. I ask if she wants to talk or if she would rather be left alone. The other chaplain interns and I have found that the women are more likely to talk with us if we stand next to them instead of in front of them.
The women tell me about their children and their grandchildren (the majority are mothers). They worry about sick family members and pray for the day that they will be able to return home. Once I stood next to a woman whose eyes filled with tears as she told me that she had been driving drunk and the passenger in her car was killed in an accident. "Will his family ever forgive me?" she asked. "Will the pain ever go away?"
It's not all hard and heavy. The women and I laugh together and share stories. They tell me about the day-to-day frustrations of being in prison, and I agree that it must be hard. They ask me questions about esoteric Bible verses (Jude 1:9, anyone?) and show me pictures of their families.
The women want to know what I can do for them. Can I get them a bar of soap, deliver a letter, help them get into a class? I tell them that I am there to listen. We can talk about God if they want, or we can pray together, but mostly I am just there to be with them. Some days, that's enough.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
A Week
I am halfway through my first semester of seminary, and I feel like I have finally settled into a routine. Some days I am amazed by how different my life is than when I was working an 8-5 job. I am enjoying myself very much, though.
Before I came to Candler School of Theology, many people warned me that seminary can be challenging for one's spiritual life, so I have been very intentional about my spiritual practices: setting aside at least 15 minutes in the morning for prayer and worship, reading a chapter of the Bible each night, giving thanks before meals, getting regular exercise, and blessing roadkill that I pass by on my bike.
My typical week looks pretty much like this:
First Day: Worship
On Sunday mornings, I have been worshiping with Atlanta Friends Meeting, a large, unprogrammed meeting in Decatur. My friends Sadie and Chris live just a mile up the road from my apartment, so they usually give me a ride to meeting, which also gives us a chance to catch up. Worship begins at 10am and lasts for an hour of silence and messages, with a few minutes at the end for holding people or other prayer requests in the Light. After getting home from meeting, I often nap and then do any schoolwork I have left for the coming week.
Second Day: Prison
One of the unusual things about Candler is that the program includes two years of contextual education. In our first year, all of the first-year M.Div. students spend four hours a week in social ministry or clinical settings. On Mondays, I spend the day with eight of my classmates at Lee Arrendale State Prison, the largest women's prison in Georgia.
We meet up around 8am to take a van up to the prison, located about 66 miles northeast of Atlanta. I have
been assigned to two dorms in the general population. Two other chaplain interns and I spend about an hour and a half in each dorm, and we meet up with our other classmates for lunch and a 90-minute reflection class in the middle.
Working in the prison is one of the highlights of my week. When I walk in the dorm, I never know what will happen. Sometimes a woman will approach me immediately and I will spend most of my time with her. Other days, I wait in the break room for women to come talk with me. Most of the time I listen as they share their experiences and concerns, and we pray and talk together.
Third Day: Classes
Other than the reflection group at the prison, all of my classes are on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The day begins with History of Early Christian Thought (8-9:20am), a large lecture class where we are learning church history from the time of the early church to the Reformation (we will take a class that covers the Reformation to the current day next semester).
Next is Pastoral Care (9:30-10:50), a smaller class that is designed to complement our contextual education work. My prison group is combined with a group that is working in another prison for a class of fewer than 20 people. We are learning a lot about ministry in the prison setting and pastoral care and counseling for women, and we practice pastoral care with and for each other.
After Pastoral Care, I usually skip chapel so that I can eat some lunch and stop by the on-campus farmers market before choir practice with the Candler Chorale, a one-credit class (12-12:50pm). Our choir is about seven people, and we usually spend our time on Tuesdays preparing the music we will be singing and leading in the Thursday chapel.
My last class of the day is Old Testament (1-2:20pm), another large lecture class. This is also a year-long class, and we are currently working our way through the Pentateuch. We started talking about Leviticus last week and will be moving on to Numbers tomorrow. I think this is the class that many of my classmates have found most theologically challenging, but I am really enjoying learning about the sources of the Old Testament and reading the text more closely than I ever have before.
Fourth Day: Reading
Thursday is usually my busiest day of classes, so I spend most of Wednesday in the library, reading and preparing for that. I also try to fit in a lunchtime swim at the Emory pool, and in the afternoon, I meet with a therapist in the Emory counseling center. Counseling sessions are free for students (or, rather, included in our tuition and fees), and it has been really great to have someone to meet with each week to help me through all of the transitions.
Fifth Day: Classes
My schedule on Thursday is pretty much the same as Tuesday, with a few exceptions. Instead of choir practice, my choir often leads the singing in chapel (11am-12pm). After chapel, I sometimes have another one-credit class called First Year Advising (12-12:50pm). As the name suggests, this is a class that is supposed to help all of us transition into seminary. We meet regularly (though not every week) with our faculty advisor to talk about things like financial literacy and what we need to do to satisfy the M.Div. program requirements.
Sixth Day: Schoolwork
Friday is another day without classes and it is tempting to take the day off, but I have been trying to get most of my schoolwork done before the weekend. It is also a day when we sometimes have special programs at school (for example, next week I will be taking an afternoon workshop on the Enneagram). Again, I try to fit a run or swimming into the day. In the evening, I might go out to dinner or do something else to unwind after the week.
Seventh Day: Sabbath
One of the reasons I try to do so much schoolwork on Friday is because I have set Saturday aside as a no-schoolwork day, a sabbath of sorts. It is amazing to me how tempted I have been to do schoolwork on Saturdays, especially when midterms are looming, but I have managed to stick with it so far.
On Saturday mornings, I have been going to a yoga class at a local ashram, then I usually spend the rest of the day hanging out with friends, reading (fiction!), or catching up with things around the house. So, it's not a complete sabbath, but at least one day a week when I am not completely focused on school.
 |
| Outside Cannon Chapel |
My typical week looks pretty much like this:
First Day: Worship
On Sunday mornings, I have been worshiping with Atlanta Friends Meeting, a large, unprogrammed meeting in Decatur. My friends Sadie and Chris live just a mile up the road from my apartment, so they usually give me a ride to meeting, which also gives us a chance to catch up. Worship begins at 10am and lasts for an hour of silence and messages, with a few minutes at the end for holding people or other prayer requests in the Light. After getting home from meeting, I often nap and then do any schoolwork I have left for the coming week.
Second Day: Prison
One of the unusual things about Candler is that the program includes two years of contextual education. In our first year, all of the first-year M.Div. students spend four hours a week in social ministry or clinical settings. On Mondays, I spend the day with eight of my classmates at Lee Arrendale State Prison, the largest women's prison in Georgia.
 |
| Chaplain Bishop (left) and the Candler chaplain interns |
We meet up around 8am to take a van up to the prison, located about 66 miles northeast of Atlanta. I have
been assigned to two dorms in the general population. Two other chaplain interns and I spend about an hour and a half in each dorm, and we meet up with our other classmates for lunch and a 90-minute reflection class in the middle.
Working in the prison is one of the highlights of my week. When I walk in the dorm, I never know what will happen. Sometimes a woman will approach me immediately and I will spend most of my time with her. Other days, I wait in the break room for women to come talk with me. Most of the time I listen as they share their experiences and concerns, and we pray and talk together.
Third Day: Classes
Other than the reflection group at the prison, all of my classes are on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The day begins with History of Early Christian Thought (8-9:20am), a large lecture class where we are learning church history from the time of the early church to the Reformation (we will take a class that covers the Reformation to the current day next semester).
 |
| Some of my school books |
After Pastoral Care, I usually skip chapel so that I can eat some lunch and stop by the on-campus farmers market before choir practice with the Candler Chorale, a one-credit class (12-12:50pm). Our choir is about seven people, and we usually spend our time on Tuesdays preparing the music we will be singing and leading in the Thursday chapel.
My last class of the day is Old Testament (1-2:20pm), another large lecture class. This is also a year-long class, and we are currently working our way through the Pentateuch. We started talking about Leviticus last week and will be moving on to Numbers tomorrow. I think this is the class that many of my classmates have found most theologically challenging, but I am really enjoying learning about the sources of the Old Testament and reading the text more closely than I ever have before.
 |
| Pitts Theology Library |
Fourth Day: Reading
Thursday is usually my busiest day of classes, so I spend most of Wednesday in the library, reading and preparing for that. I also try to fit in a lunchtime swim at the Emory pool, and in the afternoon, I meet with a therapist in the Emory counseling center. Counseling sessions are free for students (or, rather, included in our tuition and fees), and it has been really great to have someone to meet with each week to help me through all of the transitions.
Fifth Day: Classes
My schedule on Thursday is pretty much the same as Tuesday, with a few exceptions. Instead of choir practice, my choir often leads the singing in chapel (11am-12pm). After chapel, I sometimes have another one-credit class called First Year Advising (12-12:50pm). As the name suggests, this is a class that is supposed to help all of us transition into seminary. We meet regularly (though not every week) with our faculty advisor to talk about things like financial literacy and what we need to do to satisfy the M.Div. program requirements.
 |
| Inside Cannon Chapel |
Sixth Day: Schoolwork
Friday is another day without classes and it is tempting to take the day off, but I have been trying to get most of my schoolwork done before the weekend. It is also a day when we sometimes have special programs at school (for example, next week I will be taking an afternoon workshop on the Enneagram). Again, I try to fit a run or swimming into the day. In the evening, I might go out to dinner or do something else to unwind after the week.
Seventh Day: Sabbath
One of the reasons I try to do so much schoolwork on Friday is because I have set Saturday aside as a no-schoolwork day, a sabbath of sorts. It is amazing to me how tempted I have been to do schoolwork on Saturdays, especially when midterms are looming, but I have managed to stick with it so far.
On Saturday mornings, I have been going to a yoga class at a local ashram, then I usually spend the rest of the day hanging out with friends, reading (fiction!), or catching up with things around the house. So, it's not a complete sabbath, but at least one day a week when I am not completely focused on school.
Friday, September 20, 2013
More Thoughts on Recording
The night before I went to preach at Camas Friends Church, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was sitting in the Camas Friends meeting room, waiting to give the message. In my dream, the announcements and introductions went on and on, and I began to get anxious that there would not be space for me to speak. To my horror, I saw people standing to leave. One by one, they quietly walked out of the room. But when I looked to my right, I saw a small girl sitting on the bench next to me. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, and said, "Are you going to be the preacher today?" Then I woke up.
I have been in Atlanta for a month now, and it has been a bit of a bumpy landing. There are things that I love about studying at Candler School of Theology: my classes are interesting, the professors are brilliant and entertaining, and my classmates are caring and thoughtful. But I have also experienced a fair amount of culture shock. I am adjusting to living in the South and being a full-time student again after several years of working as a lawyer. I am also the only Quaker in a Methodist seminary, which has its own challenges.
One thing I did not anticipate was how big of a deal my recording would be here.
Because it is the beginning of the year, I often find myself in classrooms where we go around the room and introduce ourselves. For many of my classmates, the introduction goes like this: "My name is Jessie and I am United Methodist, on the ordination track in the North Georgia Conference."
When it's my turn to introduce myself, I usually say, "My name is Ashley and I am a Quaker (a member of the Religious Society of Friends). I am a recorded Quaker minister (the Quaker version of ordination)."
When I say that, people's eyebrows go up. They shift in their chairs. Last week, a professor said to me, "So, you're just here for the education."
It's true. For many of my classmates, they need to go to seminary in order to be ordained in their denominations. As a Friend, I do not need the degree to be a minister (in fact, several Friends tried to talk me out of it before I came here).
I am grateful for my recording, and it is still new enough that I am trying to figure out what it means to me and for my ministry. I sometimes think it means more to non-Friends than it does to Friends.
A few days ago, I had a conversation with a friend who should be recorded. She has a clear call to ministry and has been deeply involved in public ministry among Friends, which is bearing fruit. But her yearly meeting does not record ministers.
She said that, in a conversation with another minister, she blurted out, "I wish they would just record me!" The other (recorded) minister reminded her that recording is not something to take lightly.
While I agree on one level, I also think that, when someone is doing public ministry, eventually the lack of recording can become a burden, and it is a burden that the meeting should take up. It is the responsibility of the meeting to provide support and accountability for public ministers, and recording is the way that Friends traditionally have shown their intention to provide that support and accountability.
I also think this weighs heavier on women than men. It is true that yearly meetings that do not record ministers do not discriminate between women and men (neither are recorded). However, that does not take into account all of the voices that women hear telling them that they cannot do ministry. There are entire denominations that will not allow women to preach or even teach men. It is still unusual for a little girl to hear a woman preach. And when Friends say that they will not record ministers, that is one more voice telling women that they cannot be ministers.
Recording is important, Friends. Especially the recording of women. We need to take a look around and recognize the gifts that God has given to our meetings and find ways to support the Friends who are sharing those gifts with us.
I have been in Atlanta for a month now, and it has been a bit of a bumpy landing. There are things that I love about studying at Candler School of Theology: my classes are interesting, the professors are brilliant and entertaining, and my classmates are caring and thoughtful. But I have also experienced a fair amount of culture shock. I am adjusting to living in the South and being a full-time student again after several years of working as a lawyer. I am also the only Quaker in a Methodist seminary, which has its own challenges.
One thing I did not anticipate was how big of a deal my recording would be here.
Because it is the beginning of the year, I often find myself in classrooms where we go around the room and introduce ourselves. For many of my classmates, the introduction goes like this: "My name is Jessie and I am United Methodist, on the ordination track in the North Georgia Conference."
When it's my turn to introduce myself, I usually say, "My name is Ashley and I am a Quaker (a member of the Religious Society of Friends). I am a recorded Quaker minister (the Quaker version of ordination)."
When I say that, people's eyebrows go up. They shift in their chairs. Last week, a professor said to me, "So, you're just here for the education."
It's true. For many of my classmates, they need to go to seminary in order to be ordained in their denominations. As a Friend, I do not need the degree to be a minister (in fact, several Friends tried to talk me out of it before I came here).
I am grateful for my recording, and it is still new enough that I am trying to figure out what it means to me and for my ministry. I sometimes think it means more to non-Friends than it does to Friends.
A few days ago, I had a conversation with a friend who should be recorded. She has a clear call to ministry and has been deeply involved in public ministry among Friends, which is bearing fruit. But her yearly meeting does not record ministers.
She said that, in a conversation with another minister, she blurted out, "I wish they would just record me!" The other (recorded) minister reminded her that recording is not something to take lightly.
While I agree on one level, I also think that, when someone is doing public ministry, eventually the lack of recording can become a burden, and it is a burden that the meeting should take up. It is the responsibility of the meeting to provide support and accountability for public ministers, and recording is the way that Friends traditionally have shown their intention to provide that support and accountability.
I also think this weighs heavier on women than men. It is true that yearly meetings that do not record ministers do not discriminate between women and men (neither are recorded). However, that does not take into account all of the voices that women hear telling them that they cannot do ministry. There are entire denominations that will not allow women to preach or even teach men. It is still unusual for a little girl to hear a woman preach. And when Friends say that they will not record ministers, that is one more voice telling women that they cannot be ministers.
Recording is important, Friends. Especially the recording of women. We need to take a look around and recognize the gifts that God has given to our meetings and find ways to support the Friends who are sharing those gifts with us.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Tearing Down, Building Up
The first time I preached, it was a surprise for everyone, including me.The word of the Lord came to me, saying,Jeremiah 1:4-10.
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
“Alas, Sovereign Lord,” I said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.”
But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.
Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, “I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”
For our fourth School of the Spirit residency in the fall of 2010, the teachers put together a panel from the class to talk about "Being Other in Community." I felt led to be on the panel, so I wrote a proposal saying that I would like to talk about the prophet as other.
After the teacher told me I would be on the panel, I spent the summer trying to write out my message. First, I wrote about Elijah in the wilderness, telling God he wanted to die. Then I wrote about the last chapter of Jonah: Even though Jonah's mission had been wildly successful, the story ends with Jonah being angry with God.
Although both of those Bible passages spoke to me, the message was not coming together. That was hard for me, because I had planned to write the message out in advance and submit it as my fall reflection paper. I was also terrified of getting up in front of my class without knowing what I was going to say.
I spent a lot of time during that fall residency in prayer. I still did not have the message. Then, finally, during the hour of worship before the panel was scheduled to speak, I knew what I had to do. It became clear that all I needed was Jeremiah 1:4-10, and that I would be preaching from that passage.
So I did. I spoke about God calling Jeremiah to be a prophet and my own struggles with others naming the gift of prophecy in me. I said that it was hard in part because I am young, but also because I am a woman. I shared how challenging it is for me when I feel led to give messages that tear down and destroy, because I always want to build and to plant.
As I spoke, I knew I was preaching, and it felt right. Afterward, I was glad that I didn't know in advance, hard as it was, because I only would have doubted myself and my abilities. And that experience gave me confidence later when I felt led to preach again in programmed worship.
Now, three years later, I am beginning seminary at Candler School of Theology. When I saw that the theme for orientation was "Tearing Down and Building Up," I laughed. I knew immediately that it was a reference to the first chapter of Jeremiah.
Like the School of the Spirit, I know that seminary will be a distilling process for me. In addition to what I will learn about the Bible and Christian history, I will also be learning about myself and what God is calling me to do. I know that it will be challenging, and there will be days where I doubt myself and God, and wonder why I am here.
But I am also grateful for signs—like this orientation theme—reassuring me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Thoughts on Leadings II
A message I gave at Freedom Friends Church this morning during open worship:
[If you would like to hear a recording of a longer message, the message I gave in programmed worship at Camas Friends Church last Sunday is now available for streaming online and on iTunes.]
Earlier this week, I had a conversation with a woman who is not a Quaker (she is a member of a UCC church). She asked me what Friends do when people have leadings that seem to be at odds with each other. I said that it is like when you are in unprogrammed worship at a large meeting, and two people stand to speak at the same time. They both may have true leadings from the Spirit to speak in that moment, but they can't both speak at the same time. One of them has to sit down.
[If you would like to hear a recording of a longer message, the message I gave in programmed worship at Camas Friends Church last Sunday is now available for streaming online and on iTunes.]
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