At the moment, words are hard to come by.
As I sat in Palmetto Patriots VA Assisted Living and Skilled Nursing Home listening to one of my congregants share his experience of baptizing a soldier in a pool deep in the jungles of Vietnam, I found myself reflecting on the sacred privilege of ministry. We were not discussing church politics or denominational resolutions. We were sharing stories of faith, baptism, discipleship and God’s work.
And while I was doing that work, the work God called me to do, Southern Baptist Convention messengers gathered hundreds of miles away to debate whether women like me should be allowed to do this work at all.
Kelli Kirksey
When I left that sacred service, I received a text letting me know about the SBC’s vote. The denomination that raised me, taught me to follow Jesus, taught me to hear God’s voice and taught me to love Scripture once again voted to further silence women. Today, an overwhelming majority voted to affirm that women cannot serve as pastors, elders or overseers or preach. The men I have grown up with, ministered alongside and worshiped God next to voted against God’s call on my life.
Is the gospel somehow diminished when it comes from the mouth of a woman? Can Jesus not save if Jesus’ story is told by a woman? Is God’s grace somehow blocked by the gender of the messenger?
I could make a biblical argument. I could talk about Junia, Phoebe, Deborah, Mary Magdalene, Priscilla and the countless women God called and used throughout Scripture. I could discuss context, interpretation, biblical Greek and Hebrew. But today, I am not arguing.
“I am grieving for Lottie Moon, Annie Armstrong and all the women whose stories inspired generations of GAs to follow God’s call.”
Today, I am grieving.
I am grieving the denomination that helped shape my faith yet cannot recognize God’s call on the lives of women like me. I am grieving for my sisters in ministry who have faithfully preached, pastored, baptized, counseled, buried the dead and walked beside people through the most sacred moments of life. I am grieving for the Marys at the tomb, the first proclaimers of the Resurrection. I am grieving for Lottie Moon, Annie Armstrong and all the women whose stories inspired generations of GAs to follow God’s call.
Most of all, I am grieving for my daughters and for the girls sitting in Southern Baptist churches this Sunday who are being taught to love Jesus, serve Jesus, follow Jesus and obey Jesus, unless Jesus calls them to preach.
We tell our daughters God speaks. We tell them to pray. We tell them to listen for God’s voice. We tell them to surrender their lives to whatever God asks of them. How, then, can we say: “Follow God, unless God calls you to preach. Serve Jesus, unless Jesus calls you to pastor. Listen for God’s voice, unless it leads somewhere we have already decided you cannot go.”
I hope, at the very least, that these churches are honest about who they are. I hope they tell mothers and fathers that while their little girls are welcome to be baptized, they never will be ordained, and their ministry, if it involves a title of pastor or the proclamation of the word, never will be affirmed.
“I refuse to believe a vote can overturn the voice of God.”
I hope they tell them God’s voice matters, unless they hear God calling them to preach. I hope they tell them there are some callings their church never will recognize, no matter how faithfully they pray, study, listen and obey. Because what breaks my heart most is not disagreement. It is inviting girls and young women to listen for God’s call while already deciding which calls are impossible.
I am grieving for the generations yet to come who will be told, “Listen for God’s voice,” while knowing there are certain answers they are not allowed to hear. I know I am no longer part of the Southern Baptist Convention. I know I probably should stop caring. But these are the people who raised me, encouraged me, showed me what it looked like to love Jesus with all their hearts, and taught me to hear the very voice of God that ultimately led me to become a pastor.
That is why today I feel betrayed.
Yet tomorrow I will still live out my call as pastor. I will still visit congregants. Sunday morning, I will still stand up and preach the gospel. I will still celebrate baptisms, officiate funerals and serve the Lord’s Supper. I will still do the work God has called me to do. Because long before any convention voted, God called women. God called Deborah. God called Mary Magdalene to proclaim the Resurrection. God called Phoebe. God called Priscilla. And God is still calling women today.
I remain convinced the Holy Spirit poured out on sons and daughters has not changed its mind. And I refuse to believe a vote can overturn the voice of God. No vote can silence a call that comes from God.
Kelli Kirksey serves as pastor of Fernwood Baptist Church in Spartanburg, S.C.
Related:
Bulletin: Debate cut short on Mohler amendment
We ordain women because we baptize girls | Opinion by Chuck Poole