Mike DuBose Mike DuBose, UMNS
Women's Assembly Memories
Participants raise their hands in praise during worship at the United Methodist Women's Assembly at the Kentucky International Convention Center in Louisville, Ky. (File Photo by Mike DuBose, UMNS.)
I do not have a dramatic Damascus Road conversion experience to know the moment I became a Christian. But I do have a life-changing experience when I dramatically heard God’s call to ministry: 50 years ago this month at the United Methodist Women’s Assembly in Cincinnati, Ohio. Before October gets away, I have been honoring this 50 year milestone.
I had been feeling the call to preach for years. But it was a truly foreign idea to me. My first resistance was grounded in the Bible—which (as many people still insist) teaches that women should keep silent in church. We love and honor women, my evangelical background insisted. But obedience to God’s Word prohibits us from allowing women in ministry.
Mary John Dye Ident
By God’s grace (I do not remember how), I found a book called All We’re Meant to Be by Letha Scanzoni and Nancy Hardesty—a book that took each prohibitive passage and gave it a thorough exegesis. Context is a game changer. As I have said the rest of my ministry: when you take the CONTEXT out of a TEXT, all you are left with is a CON. The cons are everywhere. The struggle with the biblical texts was behind me. (Thankfully, books like this are easily accessible now. But in the early 1970’s, they were virtually non-existent. And very controversial.)
But after settling the biblical questions (which were VERY important to me), I still struggled. Church had been the center of my life. No women ministers were part of that. My life had been immersed in the church: Sunday mornings, Sunday nights AND Wednesday night prayer meetings. When I went to Asbury (third generation) we had required chapel every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday (yes, Saturday mornings at 8:00 am). Church was the only place open on Sunday mornings. And the only way to be allowed to be with someone of the opposite sex after Sunday lunch was to go to church. So we were very religious on Sunday nights too. Then there were fall revivals, winter revivals, spring revivals and camp meetings in the summer. I had been to church. And, as I told God , “ IF you call women into ministry, after all the time I have spent in church, why have I never seen a woman minister?”
And, for me, that was the question—the challenge-that God could not answer. (Silly me.)
In October of 1973, I went to the United Methodist Women’s Assembly for personal-not religious—reasons. The North Mississippi UMW invited and sponsored me to go as an “under-35” delegate. I was 5 months pregnant with my first child, 500 miles away from home and my mother (a very devoted member of UMW) was going to be at the Assembly. I don’t remember any of the preaching. I remember that Al Carmines led the music and had written “Many Gifts One Spirit” (now Hymn #114) for the theme. But the closing worship has never left my heart.
A group of black-robed women processed in during the first hymn. I didn’t think much about it. My beloved friend and mentor, Leontine Kelly was in the group. Years later she would tell me, “Nobody knew who we were. We kept hearing women comment, 'Look! Isn’t that a lovely women’s choir?'”
But when 100 black-robed Clergywomen holding the simple chalice and plate encircled the stage at the Cincinnati Convention Center to serve communion, that was a heart-stopping scene. And, lovingly, God tapped me on the shoulder and said, “ ok. This pretty much settles that question of yours about never seeing a woman in ministry, doesn’t it? Are you ready to say yes?”
You will not find the miracle of “100 Clergywomen serving communion” listed as one of Jesus’ miracles in the gospels. But it ranks at the top of the personal miracles—the many personal miracles— I have experienced. For the Women’s Division to have found 100 Clergywomen in 1973 was nothing short of a miracle. They had to search the highways and byways from all over. Leontine (later BISHOP Leontine Kelly) was serving as a local pastor to a small church in Virginia. There were, literally, no women bishops, no women superintendents and only a rare case of women serving occasionally in churches —usually because of unusual circumstances.
I would give anything to have a photo of that sight. But it is indelibly etched on my heart. I said yes that Sunday morning and I have never looked back.
I had no idea what “yes” would mean. I only knew —without a doubt—that God had called me. And, although my evangelical heritage prevented and prohibited and opposed women in ministry, the great legacy of my evangelical faith told me that there is nothing—absolutely nothing—more important than following Jesus. When I felt Jesus call—with whatever difficulties that would likely bring—I said “yes”. My evangelical heritage has had a long road toward perfection in regard to women in ministry . And it still struggles on that point. But, the main emphasis of evangelical faith was absolutely right: there is nothing more important than following Jesus.
Today, I look back over the brutal and beautiful realities that following Jesus brought to my life. Much of it was painful and very hard—especially the first 40 years. Along the hard path, ministry always included exquisite, breath-taking beauty and love along with the rejection and antagonism. Today, what I remember with greatest thanks is that God did not give up on me. And God has been unfailingly faithful through it all. And, taking everything in account, my many scars and my glorious moments only affirm: there is —truly—nothing more important than following Jesus