I have a friend – a first generation clergywomen – who is in her 80s now and she is a fascinating resource for learning what it was like for a woman in professional ministry in the 1950s and 60s.  In my denomination, women could be ordained in 1956, but there weren’t many who sought ordination in those days.  My friend is one who did.

She tells me that – after her ordination in her late 20s until about age 45 – there was not a single church meeting, not a single Presbytery Assembly, not a single committee meeting when she was not propositioned in some overt or subtle way by her male colleagues.

As one of her colleagues crassly put it, “If you are here,  we get to  have you.”

That was in the 1950s and 1960s.

Flash forward to 2016:  Harvard alumni Charles Storey of the exclusive Porcellian Club stated last week to The Harvard Crimson that “Forcing single gender organizations to accept members of the opposite sex could potentially increase, not decrease the potential for sexual misconduct.”  If women are here, we are tempted to have them.

Ugh.

I’ve been informally asking young clergywomen if men still make inappropriate comments to them and I hear a resounding yes:

• “You look beautiful today.”
• “I like a woman in panty hose.”
• “You should wear skirts more often.”

I would love to hear from young clergymen if they ever hear women say to them:

• “You look handsome today.”
• “I like a man in a robe/suit.”
• “You should wear jeans more often.”

As a single clergywoman years ago, it was a bit shocking what men said to me. Keep in mind that I am a clergywoman.  And the comments are coming from clergymen or male church members.  Are they just being awkward?  Or are they wielding power as if to say:  “I don’t care how gifted you are in ministry; if you are here, you are an object for my benefit.”

I am going to give church guys the benefit of the doubt and assume for a moment that they just don’t know what to say to their pastor.  Here are some ideas:

• “That sermon really made me think.”
• “You led a great class today.”
• “Thank you for your leadership.”

Many things have changed in the past 60 years.  But many things have not changed.  How about for you?

I often ask people, “If you were the Queen of All Things/King of All Things . . .”  and then the end of that sentence depends on what we are talking about.  What would be your life dream?  How would you spend the next year?

If I were the Queen of All Things . . .

• Everybody on the planet would get good food, shelter, an education and health care.  (Note the good.  Healthy food.  Safe shelter.  Top notch education.  Quality health care.)
• Everybody would get a sabbatical at least once in their lives.
• Everybody would get a birthday video like the one I got in March.
• Everybody would have some one to make them soup when they felt terrible.
• Everybody would have a cohort of colleagues like my preaching group.

For the 17th year, we are meeting to share resources, wisdom, vulnerability, stories, sorrows, frustrations, and joy.  We’ve been to Texas, North Carolina, Illinois, Georgia, California, Tennessee, New York, Florida, Virginia, and Scotland together, and more than ever, I believe that everybody deserves this kind of group of friends and colleagues.

If I were the QOAT, it would happen.  But I’m not.  So let’s get out there and make good things happen for people.

Storytelling is a tool for changing the world.  Or corrupting the world.

Pretty much everything is about stories: sermons, country-western songs, paintings, therapy, romantic relationships.  All depend upon stories.

David Hunt and Susan Naimark led the workshop this morning on our race
stories.  What stories do we remember from our earliest memories?  And what don’t we remember?

• I remember that a woman with dark skin named Thelma took care of me and my little brothers while our parents worked.  I sometimes went with my dad to drive Thelma home and I remember that she didn’t live in a very nice house.  I was about four years old.
• I remember Inez who lived down the road from my cousins on the farm, and she took care of them while their parents worked.  We thought she was part of our family and my sister thought her name was “Aunt Ez.”  I remember when someone referred to Inez’ children that I wondered who took care of them while she took care of us.
• I remember having a doll with dark skin.  She was a rag doll and not a fashion doll.

All these memories gave me the impression that people with dark skin were poor.  This is how biases happen.

What I don’t remember:

• I don’t remember wondering why there were no children who didn’t look like me in my classes until about the sixth grade.
• I don’t remember wondering why I never had a teacher of color until the eighth grade.  (Thank you Cecilia Barnes.)
• I don’t remember why everybody in my neighborhood, in magazines, in book illustrations, on television looked like me and not like my doll or Cecilia Barnes.

There are stories that we are told or stories we have experienced from our youngest days that are so deeply ingrained in us that we don’t even realize that they’re there.  They have influenced how we see ourselves and others.

I met a woman this morning who shared how she felt being the only Korean girl in her class in school.  People called her names and made assumptions about her.  I talked with another woman who is the daughter of a blonde German woman and a dark-skinned Indian man.  Among the Germans, she was called a n@^&#. Among the Indians, she was called a white pig.  Like most of our parents, her parents told her to ignore the comments of others.  We rarely if ever had conversations about race.

It would be so fascinating to talk about our earliest memories about race in our own lives.  What did we grow up believing about people with dark skin or light skin, people from Ireland or Mexico or Ghana or India or Korea?  And who told us those stories?  And are they even true stories?

Somewhere along the way, many of us in the United States have been told that all black men are dangerous and all native Americans are alcoholics and all Asian Americans are really smart and all white people are rich/stupid/entitled/greedy/whatever.  The reality is that my white skin has granted me special privileges for 60 years.  Why is that?

How can we use our stories to advocate for change?  Sometimes these stories are horribly painful.  Exhibit A from The New York Times today.  But if we know them, face them, and try to redeem them, maybe we can break through our own biases and see the world as God created it (and us) to be.

For more information about The White Privilege Conference, check this out.

My first workshop today at #PHLWPC17 was called “Laughing Out White (Superiority)” with Jackie Battalora.  Obviously humor dilutes tensions and speaks truth in ways that we might not hear it otherwise. There are things Chris Rock can say about being black or Margaret Cho can say about being Asian that I cannot say.  But I can speak about my white experience.

We were asked to write a (funny) list about What’s Great About Being White.  None of us are comedians, but some of these are funny.

WHAT’S GREAT ABOUT BEING WHITE (with gratitude to our workshop groups):

1. You’re the same color as Santa.
2. And Jesus.*
3. Nobody randomly touches our hair.
4. You can play any ethnicity in the movies.
5. It took ten times to arrest Winona Ryder for shoplifting.
6. Because your family always went to camp and not just between the years of 1941 and 1945.
7. You can drive a Lexus through any neighborhood and not be pulled over.
8. You have so many makeup choices.  (See image)

My particular group reflected on the number of makeup choices white people have.  So, is this funny in any way to you?  Or does it sound like the post of an angry white lady?  As I sit through these talks, I feel more sad and overwhelmed.  We can do better, America.

*Actually Jesus’ complexion was most likely similar the complexions of these people.

Image of our workshop group’s imaginary White Privilege Line of makeup.

As you read this, I’m arriving in Philly for the White Privilege Conference.
(Thank you Synod of Lincoln Trails.)

I can see your eyes rolling, my friends.

Among the comments posted about the 2015 conference:

• “White Privilege” Conferences should just be called ‘Bash Some White People’ Conferences.
• “White Privilege Conference Costs School District $100K Year: Teaches ‘All White People Are Racist'”

So there’s that.

Warren Buffett  – who is nobody’s wild-eyed liberal – has said this:  “My wealth has come from a combination of living in America, some lucky genes, and compound interest. Both my children and I won what I call the ovarian lottery. (For starters, the odds against my 1930 birth taking place in the U.S. were at least 30 to 1. My being male and white also removed huge obstacles that a majority of Americans then faced.)”  I would venture to say that a majority of Americans (i.e. females, people of color) still face those obstacles.

I also won the ovarian lottery. I enjoy a great deal of privilege based wholly on the fact that I happened to be born in the United States of America with parents who could provide everything from piano lessons to braces to a college education.  Plus my skin is white.

There are other privileges I enjoy based on the fact that I can walk, hear, see, and think fairly clearly.  But one of my greatest privileges – one that has certainly opened door or at least not closed them – is my skin color.

Yes, race is a social construct.  But I am judged on my skin color and so are you. That is a fact. And in my case, those judgments have almost always made my life easier.

I’m attending this conference in hopes that I will learn how to make somebody else’s life easier for the sake of the Gospel.  And I hope to share some of what I learn.  Please try not to roll your eyes.

Imagine getting a resume that announced from the bold-typed first line:

William Jones, BUMS

(Note:  BUMS is the academic acronym for Bachelor of Unani Medicine and Surgery.  It’s a real degree.)

My twenty-something son whose ink has been covered up for assorted job interviews teaches high school kids that you can’t show up for a summer job interview wearing bathing suit shorts unless you hope to be a life guard.

If your business holds a press conference on a new venture for women and the three employees at the mikes are all men, somebody will notice.  And not take your seriously.

Optics are obviously huge.  And in Church World, optics are sometimes overlooked to the detriment of our ministry.

• Who is staffing your refreshments table after worship?  Is it the person who best represents the hospitality of your congregation?
• Do you self-describe as open and inclusive but your artwork, your website, and your Up Front People reflect only one race/ethnicity/sexual orientation/gender?
• Do you say you value children in church but the nursery toys are all broken?

Consider paying a  few strangers $20 each to do a walk through of your church building, digital presence, and worship experience for an Optics Review.  We might be surprised by what strangers notice.

Image of a window in the National Cathedral in Washington, DC.  There are plans to remove the window according to this.

Top executives from Fortune 500 companies offer sage advice about the First Day On The Job in this article and it’s all about curiosity.  The same could be said for ministry – professional or your everyday variety.

Fortune 500 leaders advise this:

• Don’t be intimidated. (Even though you’re new, come in ready to learn.)
• Learn every day. (You don’t know everything no matter how seasoned you are.)
• Ask questions. (Be willing to learn from everybody.)
• Focus on relationships. (Building trust creates a team.)
• Be patient. (You might have to ask proactively for feedback if you aren’t getting any.)
• Put yourself in the customers’ shoes. (It helps focus on what people really want.)

For those of us engaged in ministry, curiosity always makes us better leaders, When starting a new job/program/project/team/mission:

• Don’t be intimidated.  (If God has called you, it’s going to be fine.)
• Learn every day.  (Acquaint yourself with the resumes of your team.  Expect to learn from them.)
• Ask questions.  (“Why?” is the best question of all.  Why do we do it this why?  Why has this been our practice?)
• Focus on relationships.  (Be authentic.)
• Be patient.  (It takes time to shift a church’s culture.)
• Put yourself in your neighbor’s shoes.  (I guess we could say that our neighbors are also our ‘customers’ but most of all, be partners with those we serve.  Jesus served alongside the poor, the sick, the oppressed.  Be like Jesus.)

Last week, I was honored to spend three days with some of the newest pastors in my denomination.  We’ve been together for the last three years, gathering for two retreats per year.  Last week was our sixth and last retreat.

What makes these not-so-new-anymore pastors so extraordinary is that they are curious human beings.  They are not know-it-alls.  They know the value of taking further classes and reading books and studying.

I know seasoned pastors who haven’t taken a class in years.  They only attend conferences if they are the leaders.  They come into most situations believing they already know what they need to know.  Their ministry is stagnant.

The future of effective ministry is curiosity.  Being curious about everything from the people we serve to the people we work alongside to the world in which God has placed us is everything.

Image source.

After ten days of rib-bruising hacking and other basic cold symptoms, three retreats, and assorted beyond-the-usual-work-things activities, I canceled a work trip to San Diego to recover.  This is not something I do.

So now I am home Doing Nothing in the hopes of regaining my health and more.

Doing Nothing for me usually means:

• Having time to pay bills, sort laundry, clean out the fridge, and update my Angie’s List and Yelp reviews.
• Catch up on Thank You notes.
• Bake.

But this time I am really Doing Nothing.  (Note:  this blog post is my last until the hacking subsides.)  May you find the time to Do Nothing soon.

“I was trained that this is a lifetime calling.  I feel blessed that it’s worked out for me.” 

Note: Cliff Lyda is my brother in Christ and my friend.  And for the past three years, he and I have partnered in facilitating the 23^rd group of New Pastors in our Synod.  The following wisdom was shared last night with the twelve not-so-new-anymore pastors who gathered for our sixth and final retreat.  Cliff retires from professional ministry in May after 42 years of service. These words are Cliff’s, as noted by me (Jan.)

We all know that there are challenges in the life of ministry.  But here are five struggles that might inform your ministry, especially if you are years or decades away from retirement yourselves:

1. There will be a lifelong struggle with ego.  Our egos are inflated if for no other reason than because “we speak for God.” But it’s more complicated than that:  Too much ego and you’ll be in trouble.  Not enough ego and you’ll be in trouble.  You can’t be too self- assured and – at the same time – you can’t be a doormat.  Ego management is a very serious issue if you want to be successful in ministry.

2. Too many accommodations will damage your personality. Ministry means making constant accommodations:  We accommodate ourselves to the culture of the church.  We accommodate ourselves to the expectations of the people to whom we minister.  We accommodate ourselves to “what a minister is supposed to look like, act like” etc.  We accommodate ourselves to everything from where we take our vacations to the kind of car we want to drive.  (i.e. They can’t be too extravagant or people will talk.) We say yes when we wish we’d said no.  Over time, this constant accommodation will damage our personalities and leave us angry, resentful, and vulnerable, unless we take care of ourselves.

3. There will be many “Blows to the Head.”  Think what happens when football players get blows to the head.  Blows to the head in ministry are all the things that happen to us:  friends leave the church for different reasons.  They might still like us but they don’t like the denomination anymore.  Or they simply want to leave the church and they need to create a reason so that it will make sense.  (i.e. They are angry with us.)  Of course we take it personally.  It hurts.  There are other kinds of blows to the head: Attempts to undermine us.  People who tell you one thing and do another.  People who take swings at us.  And all these experiences will impact our ministry enormously.  It’s like a concussion.  (For days, I’m in a daze.)  We went into the ministry believing that everything and everyone would be nice and good, but – actually – if we don’t learn to become spiritually and politically savvy, we won’t last long.

4. We will develop scar tissue. I did my first church funeral in 1980. I don’t know what the number is, but I’ve lost a lot of people.  Don’t think those scars don’t layer.  Ours is a relational profession and relationships end.  People move.  They die.  Over time the number of losses will affect you and too much scar tissue hardens us.  Dealing creatively with loss – your own loss – is essential.

5. No one warned me that I would become “a heretic” over time. We are meant to progress in our faith and so orthodoxies will get shattered.  We might find that we become better with pagans than with church people.  No longer is God in a box because our faith becomes broader.

Final note from Jan:  Many of our new pastors will not last 42 years for a wide variety of reasons.  But all of us can benefit from the wisdom of one who has done ministry well.  Thanks Cliff.

Authentic and teachable pastors are like gold.

[Note:  I am a white clergywoman.]

Back in the 2012  election, one presidential candidate mentioned in a debate that when he was governor, he sought out female leaders to appoint to his cabinet. When only male applicants had applied, he approached women’s groups who provided “binders full of women” for the governor to consider.  See this for a refresher.

For the record, I also have binders of women.  Actually they are PDFs in a computer file.

I collect the dossiers of exceptional women because we still live in a world in which male pastors are favored.  I have nothing against male pastors.  But I admit before you and God that I have a special place in my heart for clergywomen and specifically for clergywomen of color for the sake of justice.

Last week I came across this article:  Why the Gender Leadership Gap Is So Much Worse for Women of Color.  We know this story –  or we should.  “There are more women working today than ever before (55% of the total global workforce).  Women earn the majority of university degrees according to data from Census reports”

“Yet female leadership numbers remain dismal.  For women of color, this gap is even wider.”

Yep.

So here’s what really struck me:   ” . . . this is not a pipeline problem.” Apparently, in the secular world, there are many women of color in “the pipeline.”  They are well educated and talented; they just don’t get the interviews or the jobs.

I don’t think this is the situation in Church World.  Women – and specifically women of color – still do not get the interviews or the jobs sometimes. But I don’t think we have a huge number of women of color “in the pipeline.”  Please correct me if I’m mistaken.

• How many women of color are under care of our denominations in preparation for ordination (in denominations that ordain women)?
• How many women of color are in the Master of Divinity programs of our seminaries and divinity schools?
• How many of our girls of color are encouraged by their church leaders to consider professional ministry as a vocation?

In 2012 26% of the clergy in my denomination were female.  Of those 7% were women of color.  But here’s the thing:  the African American, Asian American, and Latina clergywomen I know are among the finest pastors in the Church today. They are profoundly gifted.  Why aren’t there more women of color serving our congregations?

In my experience as a person who works with congregations,  some of our racial- ethnic churches will not will not interview women at all and many of our predominantly white churches will not interview women of color.

Although I have hope that this will change in the future, some of us in leadership positions can make a difference now.  There’s more we can do besides collect binders.

• We can invite women of color to informational interviews so that we know them and can encourage them to apply to openings (while also encouraging search committees to consider them)
• We can take note of women of color who are in leadership in their congregations and talk with them about seminary.
• We can become familiar with women of color in our and in other denominations and keep them in mind when asked to suggest names to Pastor Nominating Committees.

Why do I suggest these things?  It’s not to fulfill quotas or give special breaks. It’s to give talented leaders who are often overlooked a fair chance. And frankly, it’s selfish:  we in the Church are missing out when the best leaders are not considered and – many times –  the best leaders are clergywomen of color.

P.S.  We who have ecclesiastical power are called to open the doors for all people who are called by God.  There are many LBGTQ clergy or potential clergy who – also – do not have it easy in the call process.  More about that later.