A Confession
From one of the top 7
This Spring, I was counted among the top 7 vote-getters for the position of Bishop of our Lutheran Synod. The only woman among seven, and the only one NOT wearing black, I stood out like a blue sky on a gloomy day.After the announcements, we were called up to the stage to draw lots to speak on any topic of our choice. I had not prepared a speech, believing I would have time to do so should I magically end up in the top 7. I was mistaken. Not only were we not given time to prepare, when we drew lots to see who would speak first, I drew "1". When we were invited to sit down to await our introductions, my six male colleagues reached into their suit coat pockets and drew out their pre-written speeches. (Well, five did, one turned on his ipad.) I thought, "Good grief! Am I the only one who didn't expect to make it this far?" The answer to which was an obvious, resounding and deafening, YES!
Why? Why didn't I expect to be in the top 7? Why wasn't I prepared? How could I have missed the signs that my colleagues so obviously had received so that, they arrived at the same moment I did ready to share their vision and purpose?
The answer is at once both simple and sadly complicated. From the moment my name was lifted up as one to consider for the position of Bishop, I heard nothing that affirmed that nomination. Okay, nearly nothing. My husband and closest female colleague were affirming, but I had judged them to be immensely biased and dismissed their support. I had posted on facebook-a place among "friends" to seek any sign of affirmation and received none. My own parents were campaigning for someone else. One brave male colleague told me he simply couldn't vote for a female candidate, because ultimately he didn't feel he could trust a woman bishop. The process was the most un-affirming experience of my ministry outside of the day I told my parents I was going to seminary. (That's another story.)
I entered the Assembly having no confidence in the success of my candidacy, and feeling completely delusional in imagining that my vision and abilities could ever adequately fill the office. So, I was unprepared thinking, "Why prepare? I'll just cross that bridge when I get to it, while the likelihood of getting to the bridge is pretty much nil."
I once read that men receive their call to ordained ministry mainly through external affirmation, while women have an inner sense of call. Because being an ordained minister was a traditionally male calling, the church doesn't readily identify its women as potential candidates in the same way. So, in order for a woman to seek this career path, she must be internally driven for she is less likely to receive external acclamations and affirmations to push her along.
I don't know how true this all is, but I can honestly say, that this has been my experience of ministry. I let the un-affirming experience trump my inner sense that I had a right to be considered a good candidate for an office I am more than qualified to hold. I failed to "lean in" (to borrow a phrase), and consequently, walked away from the experience feeling like I had let myself down. After all, it's one thing to lose the race when you have run it the best you could, and another to lose because one didn't show up to run. I didn't show up.
The Women Clergy Leadership Colloquium has been developed to help women clergy adopt the spirit of Sheryl Sandberg's phrase, Lean In. It is designed to encourage women to develop professionally and network for the purpose of lifting up one another. So that, when called to the start line, women may run the race just as ably as their male counterparts.
