My Admissions Statement

I've had the dream of being a pastor since I was a little girl, but people kept telling me it wasn't from God, because women are not allowed by Scripture to be pastors. In the past few years, I've realized those people were wrong. I've done my research, investigated the claims myself, and they fall short. I truly feel this is the calling God has for me. It's time I lived in it. I was accepted into Seminary yesterday. The admissions rep made a point to call me to tell me how moving he found my autobiographical statement, submitted with the application. Even though much of this I've already shared on this blog, I'm going to post it here.

I grew up in the Church. My dad was a pastor within the Presbyterian Church for 40 years before he retired. My mother states that at the age of four I prayed a prayer and expressed belief in Jesus in Sunday School, but I don’t remember that. I do remember as a teenager of thirteen choosing for myself – not for my family or my church – that I would follow Jesus.

I also remember as a child wanting to be a pastor like my dad. However, at the age of nine or ten, I told a woman in our church my dream for when I grew up, and she laughed at me. She declared, “Oh, honey, women can’t be pastors!” I honestly believe that one comment – and my parents’ later affirmation of the fact – changed the entire course of my life.

I attended a Christian university for my undergraduate studies. I majored in Human Services – because I wanted to help people but I didn’t know how – and minored in Bible. I was very active on campus and in outreach activities, as well as in my local church. I also had the opportunity to attend the Urbana Missions Conference in Illinois, which was an incredible experience. At Urbana, I was challenged to give two years of service to God following graduation. This led to me joining the Peace Corps. A lot of my fellow Christians didn't understand my decision to join the secular Peace Corps, but it felt like the right step for me.

The Peace Corps was a challenging time in and of itself but was made even more so by being one of the only Christians in my group. I was sent to Peru, where Catholicism is the predominant religion, though there is a growing Evangelical Church there as well. It at times felt very lonely. I grew a great appreciation for the need of a church community.

When I returned to the States, I still had no idea what I wanted to do, but Psychology had been one of my favorite courses in my undergrad studies so I did a Master of Psychology program and kind of by default became a therapist for seven or eight years. During that time, I remained very involved in the local church. I also completed a two-year School of Ministry Program at the church I was attending, which included Biblical Studies as well as Ministerial classes. It was an incredible program. The best part for me was how affirming they were regarding women leadership in ministry. I even met my very first female pastor - not merely a pastor's wife, but an actual ordained female pastor. She was a great encouragement to me. Through that program, I had the opportunity to preach a couple of times and speak at our class graduation.

Shortly after, we moved states, and I began attending another church. I was able to get an internship there and then was invited onto staff as an outreach coordinator. It was not a pastoral position but a coordination position, connecting with our local partners, planning classes, conferences, and events, and leading Bible studies. I enjoyed being on church staff and seeing “behind the curtain”. 

We moved again, to our current home near the US/Mexico border. I had an infant and a toddler, but still wanted to be involved at church. I joined the outreach committee, led a MOPS (mother of preschoolers) group, and taught a Bible study that I wrote on the Jewishness of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew*. I also started a support group for women with post-partum depression and anxiety. I was invited to speak at a women's night. Things were going well.

Then the No Tolerance policy of the previous administration went into effect, and the shock of babies being torn from their mother's arms ricocheted through our community. I felt called to get involved at the border. There were thousands of vulnerable people coming to us in need of help, and it seemed God’s work to respond to that need. Didn't Jesus say, after all, to welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked? That is what we were doing.

I got involved in advocacy while working there, taking speaking engagements and presenting to visiting groups to share about what was happening at the border and to speak out against racist policies coming down from the Trump administration. Unfortunately, I faced heavy opposition from people at the church I was attending at the time, as well as from my own family. I was criticized for helping "illegals", for speaking out against the former president, and for challenging Christians to think about how their support of him tarnished their Christian witness.

This was a difficult period that sent me spiraling. I couldn’t understand why the Church took a stance against helping people at the border, and for policies that were intentionally hurtful. I couldn’t understand why the Church was supporting a president who was immoral and who spoke racist and sexist and hateful things, as well as who conducted many illegal acts. I couldn’t understand why the Church I had been raised in and had been involved in and had loved for so many years – would push me out for helping people and for following the words of Jesus.

Then COVID hit. Everything shut down. Even when things started up again, though, I stayed away from church for a while. Over two years, in fact. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of it anymore. I still believed in God, but I had lost faith in the Church. I didn’t recognize her. The Church was so intermixed with politics and American conservatism and capitalism that she was polluted. I didn’t want any part of her.

But God kept pursuing me. He didn’t let me go.

I started on a journey of exploration. Trying to understand how the Church became so involved with right-wing politics to begin with. Trying to unravel true faith and the teachings of Jesus from matters that were cultural, political, or American ideals. I read a lot. Studied. Found an online community of people like me who wanted to keep their faith but didn’t feel at home in the Church any longer.

Eventually, I started a blog to document my journey and what I had discovered.

I believe many people across the country are going through this “deconstruction” of faith that we keep hearing about. They are tired of a Church who looks more Republican than Christian, who cares more about elections than evangelism, and who is largely out of touch with the needs of the real-world. Many such people give up on faith altogether. I hope that through my blog – and eventually, through ministry – I can show people there is a way forward. Church doesn’t have to be this way.

I went back to church this year. It took me a while to find a church I felt fit better with my changing worldview. The place we are at now has been very welcoming, and I suspect we’ll stay.

My childhood dream of being a pastor has repeatedly come back to me during this last year. I feel… called. I want to be a part of the solution, rather than merely complaining about the problem. I want to help people like me, who are struggling. I want to help the church get more involved in real world issues and actually do the things Jesus told us to do.

I believe seminary, therefore, is the first step.

* Planning to publish my Bible Study, "The Jewishness of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew" before Seminary starts... hopefully.