Thursday, June 26, 2008
Yesterday, I headed to the Mockingbird Cafe (thought of you Songbird, will smama and Little S.!) for lunch with two preacher pals. The city looks SO much better although the streets are torn up with infrastructure drainage, etc. repair. Along the Beach road, the lots are bare mostly. It's difficult to rebuild family homes when the codes aren't in place and the insurance companies say, "Oh, we didn't mean you had coverage for that..."
My pals were willing to hear a few stories from my past. I told about the day I was presented to presbytery for approval as a pastor. In those days, we were ordained where we had our first call, so the vote was for my ordination as well as reception into the presbytery. As the Committee on Ministry chair moved for my reception, the Moderator was asked by one of the commissioners, "Do we have to vote on this?" Not "vote on her" or "vote on Miss C." but vote on "this". Without missing a beat, the Moderator said, "No you can vote against it or abstain."
The vote was called for, and the motion to accept me passed.
Not one soul realized that I was the first Presbyterian clergywoman to be ordained
in the state.
Not one soul thought to apologize to me for the previous discussion.
Even I was oblivious. My eye was on the prize of being received by the Presbytery as a Minister of the Word and Sacrament.
This month of blogging about my ordination strikes me as self-serving, which, of course isn't ladylike or gentle. However, in the name of recalling what it was like 30 years ago, I've shared a few tidbits. Frankly, in some ways, clergywomen don't have it any easier than we did back then. Just sayin'.
But a call to ministry isn't about ease anyway. If you have the Call, there isn't anything to do but run through the thorn bushes towards the pulpit.
(Photo: Songbird's Sandwich)