A Family Journey

I was recently asked by the editor of Baptist Women in Ministry of North Carolina to write an article for their newsletter about how my call to ministry has shaped my family. Considering the fact that my dad is also a Baptist minister, it has been one hell of a ride (that keeps going) . . . While the tale below may sound rosey at the end, things are still interesting with him. I am going home for Father's Day weekend and I wonder if my dad will ask me to preach?? Patience seems to be always necessary when dealing with families in general.

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I wasn’t supposed to claim my father’s profession. I didn’t see it coming at all. But, now I’m in the “family business” and Baptist preacher myself. As I’ve journeyed over the last three years of seminary, I haven’t been alone. My family and friends have come with me. I have been shaped by their journeys and I theirs, particularly with my father.

It all began when I was at home during my first fall break of divinity school. I sat my parents down one October afternoon and uttered these scary words: “I believe God has called me to be a pastor.”

Much to my surprise, my dad and I had a falling out that day. He left the house mad, saying he couldn’t support my calling publicly in light of the Southern Baptist Convention's position on women in ministry. I ran to my room crying calling any female ministers I knew, asking for their encouragement. My mom tried to comfort me saying, “You know it just might take your dad the three years you’re in seminary to accept your call. Give him time. He’ll come around.”

In those awful moments and the weeks that followed, I knew despite our theological differences my dad and I could find common ground. I knew he could teach me how to baptize and lead weddings and funerals. I wanted to preach (not just “speak”) in his church’s pulpit. My gut told me my dreams were too lofty… this might be a battle I would fight for a long time.

But, my wise mother was indeed right. My dad needed time. Before ingrained stereotypes can be transformed, it often takes the patience only a loyal relationship can have.

With my dad, acceptance unfolded slowly and gradually. It began with the first pastor gift I received from him. He gave me a Concordance the following Christmas with a note in the front saying he hoped it would be useful to me in my ministerial life.

Then, in May, my beloved grandmother died. My dad was assigned pastoral duties at the graveside. He asked me to read scripture and pray. He taught me where to stand at the casket. It was my first funeral and we did together.

The next October while home yet again over fall break, my dad asked me to lead the Sunday night service. While dad was not yet using the “p” word, I preached my heart out. And much to my surprise, I was received with open arms by a Southern Baptist Church in the middle of Alabama. By congregational request, my dad agreed to invite me back again sometime (which he has since done twice).

This April, my work-a-holic father did the unthinkable: he took off a Sunday to come to the church where I was the pastoral intern. I preached. And, afterwards my dad said, “That was the best sermon I’ve heard from you. Billy Graham says: Anne is the best preacher in their family. And if he can say that, I say you are the best preacher in ours.” It was quite a Hallelujah moment we shared in Goldsboro, NC that day.

There is no doubt my father has being forced to grow because of God’s call on my life. I feel proud to have helped and thankful for the work of the Spirit of God in his heart. But, I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I’m changing too. It has been an upward journey for all of us.

How easy it is for us as female ministers to write-off our more conservative family members and colleagues as people who are ignorant or incapable of change. But, if we trust in a God who says all things are in the process of being made new, there is no one we can label as eternally against women in ministry. God just might use the examples of our lives to influence others about the giftedness of all people. This is the mystery of grace. Who knows what is in store for people like my father in the years to come? At the rate he is going, he might just want to be on BWIM’s board one day soon!