The Future is Female
Speaking of pastors playing hooky, I recently took off the Sunday of Pentecost. It felt elicit.
When I say “took off,” what I mean is that I attended two hours of worship plus a two-hour graduation ceremony. But I was grateful not to lead any of it.
I happened to be in my hometown for the college graduation of a church member of mine, a dynamic biracial woman who should, if God is just, run the world in ten years. Amidst the pomp and circumstance (except strangely, without the actual “Pomp and Circumstance”), a student from Zimbabwe spoke on behalf of her class. Without preaching, she preached. I left feeling I had been to church.
And then, later that day, I did go to church. This time, for the ordination of someone I’m just beginning to know. She’s an amazing person: full of power, empathy, and strong opinions. I wondered what it’s been like for her as the first woman of color in her pastoral ministry program, but, from what I saw, her ministry there has made an impact. When I arrived (early for me), they had long ago given out their last bulletin. The service was notable for, among other things, the lack of male worship leaders. Instead, women beckoned her into ordained ministry, blessed her, and spoke those wonderful words of life. I left feeling I had been to church.
On the day of Pentecost, the disciples are suddenly confronted with the explosion of the Holy Spirit, not only dancing above their heads, they who witnessed the risen Christ in the flesh. But they saw the Spirit dancing in the people who didn’t know Jesus while he was alive, who didn’t speak the same languages or come from the same culture. It’s a repeating theme in the Bible, an echo we need to hear again and again.
In a week when the phrase “white space” strikes me anew, I’m so grateful for a glorious Pentecost.
I’m glad I took the Sunday off.