This past Sunday evening I participated in an ordination service for three graduates of our seminary, two women and one man. None was a twenty-something; all had been serving for years in their home church, Metropolitan Missionary Baptist Church, a historic black congregation. One woman had carried the title of “Commissioner of Edification” for years rather than a pastoral title. Of course, she had been doing pastoral work all the while. For the first time in its venerable 119 year history, the church decided it was high time to ordain women as clergy.
I had never been in a service quite like this. It had dignity, gravity and drama far beyond the rather sterile practices I have witnessed in many such rites. Processing to a dirge-like rendering of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” the clergy and ordinands slowly entered the sanctuary as the congregation waited expectantly. We all knew that we were entering sacred space, in sacred time, with the whole gathered company of saints.
Read Full Article »