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Jen Hale Christy

Coach and Writer

jenhalechristy

Where I Am From

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I was asked to write a poem based on “Where I Am From” by George Ella Lyon. It led me to memories sweet and painful, a warm heart, laughter and tears, over and over. Here it is…

Where I Am From

I am from Sooner sojourners

I am from I-80, I-40, I-20, I-35,
I sleep until we get there

I am from corn fields, dad is master of statistics, family of four

I am from Alphabet Island, dad is piled high and deep in statistics, family of five
Church where dad leads singing,
Where my pew gymnastics lead to head stitching

I am from roller skating in the basement, walking on stilts, burying Sandy under the deck, dad works all the time, family of six

The call
No response

I am from the Sooner garden;
snapping green beans, shucking corn, shelling pecans
sweet pickles and elbows off the table
chocolate gravy and summer camp
flannel graphs and comb binding
pa-pa preaching and reclining on cushioned pews
fearing hell, I come Just As I Am and take the plunge before my 11th birthday

The call
No response

I am from aloe vera and peeling sunburns, saying “dude,” mountains and sea,
Though six moved together, six moved apart
And outward we spiraled
Church where I lead singing
Church where I learn not to question

The call
No response

I am from too much information
Disorientation, instability, distrust
I am from poor choices, dodging bullets
I am from grandma dying and visiting my dreams

I am from Barbecue, the deep fried South,
Hard places soften, reconciliation in fits and starts

The call
Please hold

I am from dust storms, grad school, ultimate frisbee, authenticity
The call
I’m listening
Embrace, affirmation
Holy ground and spirit fire

I am from fleur de lis, canon in D, happily ever after
Answering the call,
my turn to hold

Hold.
Keep holding.

I am from blacktops steaming with hope

Hold
Keep holding

I am from waves, sun, community
Holding gives way to affirmation, acceptance, opportunity
I am from ministry

I am from the wild ride of motherhood
Nine months up, nine months down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I am from sleepless nights to first foods to first day of school in a heartbeat
I am from life passing too quickly

I am from Interstate of promise
Listening, discerning, leaning in

Don’t ask where I am from
The answer is too long
I am from everywhere and nowhere
Home is there, and there, and there
Home is here
Home is in five sets of blue eyes

I am from love and hope,
despair and joy and hurt,
desperation and impatience
peace and confidence
I am from the hand of God and I am home.

More Reflections on Why I Stay

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photo

This is a photo of the women who were present at the Women in Ministry Conference at Pepperdine in May, 2009. I am certain of the timing, because that’s me on the far left, holding my almost two-year old daughter awkwardly over my 7-months-pregnant-belly.

These women and this network are a big part of why I stay. This is a group of women from all over the country who are serving in a wide variety of ministry roles–some in churches, some in parachurch organizations, some preparing for ministry and some waiting for a door to open. We are professors, pastors, chaplains, counselors, children’s ministers, theology students, campus ministers, missionaries, and youth ministers. Women called and gifted by God to serve. Women who step forward in courage, embracing the call and trusting God.
There are others who are not in this photo. Katie Hays is someone I’ve heard about for over a decade. She was a role model to me long before I met her. She is a pioneer–she served as a youth minister and then a co-preacher in Churches of Christ when there were almost no women doing this. After years of ministry in Churches of Christ, she moved on to Disciples of Christ. I don’t judge her for it. I respect that this is the decision some of us will make, and I know that there are a lot of factors that go into it. I want it to be crystal-clear that I don’t begrudge the decision and I don’t want anyone to feel guilty over leaving. I don’t judge her (or others). But I am sad. Sad that one of our most gifted female preachers moved on from our tribe. She’s not the first or the last, just an example.
{And it’s not only women who are leaving. Men are too. See Sean Palmer’s recent post about this.}
Some of us will leave. But if all of us leave, who will be left? How will our daughters hear prayers offered in the gathering of God’s people in a voice that sounds like their own? How will our sons witness the beautiful perspective offered by a mother publicly reflecting on Mary’s experience of carrying, birthing, and raising Jesus? If all of the women who have been gifted and called to lead and serve in Churches of Christ leave, what will happen to our tribe?

Why I Stay

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I’ve been inspired by Mark Love’s recent post “Why I don’t leave, even though…” So I’m writing my own version of why I stay in Churches of Christ.

I am asked this question all the time. All the time. When friends from within my tribe or broader Christendom learn about my passion for and calling to preaching, they ask why I don’t leave. Because you see, in my tribe, women have not historically been given a voice in public worship or leadership. But the tide is turning…
[tangent} And frequently, when friends from within my tribe learn about my passion for preaching, it’s a matter of 5 minutes or less before they ask if I’ve ever considered church planting. Yes, I’ve considered it. I still consider it. But it’s difficult to not hear that suggestion as carrying the implication “because you’re not welcome in established churches.” I don’t think anyone means it that way–it’s just the message that comes across. But I digress..
So why don’t I leave? For years, I said it was because when I was growing up, I didn’t have female role models in formal ministry. I wanted to be a pioneer and example for young women. I wanted to help move churches farther along this spectrum. Not in a demanding, smash down the walls sort of way. But by encouraging study, conversation, prayer, discernment. I still want this.
But that reasoning hasn’t been able to sustain me through the storms. Something deeper is at work. This is my family. Literally, figuratively, spiritually, you name it. My family goes back a few generations on both sides. My dad’s dad is in the process of retiring from preaching at the same Church of Christ for over 60 years! And for all our flaws, we are a well-connected bunch. I can walk into any number of Churches of Christ across the country and get within two or three degrees of separation from the folks there. We know each other. We love each other. We are family. It’s in my blood.
Again, for all our flaws, there is beauty. We have a high regard for Scripture as God’s word. We believe that God is still active in our world. We believe in coming together as a community of faith and celebrating the Eucharist on a weekly basis. We believe that God’s kingdom is breaking in, and we are called to be part of it. And there is a groundswell of support for women in ministry in our tribe. The tide is turning towards the full inclusion of women in the life and leadership of the church. It’s an exciting time to be part of this tradition. This is my family, and I’m not interested in entertaining the idea of a divorce.

 

Starting Up + Slowing Down

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I was invited to share a devotional during the President’s Briefing at Pepperdine University just before the fall semester began. Here are a few clips from that talk, which still ring true today in our culture of frenetic busyness.

Preaching At Home

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I had preached three weddings and a funeral. I had preached in class and chapel as a graduate student, and later in chapel and various services as a chaplain. I had preached in a Disciples of Christ congregation and an ecumenical Church of Christ (who had branched out from mainline COCs). I had spent all of my thirty-three years in Churches of Christ and on April 28, 2013, for the first time ever I preached in my home congregation.


It was a day of firsts: my first time to preach in a Church of Christ, and first time to preach in my home congregation; their first time to have a woman preach; the first time for a woman to preach in a Church of Christ in California (as far as I know). It was humbling and awe-filled experience of the Spirit moving powerfully in the preparation and proclamation. I remembered the times I had cried out to God asking why I had been given a voice in a silent tradition, and I was brought to tears as I recognized God’s faithfulness. God indeed had been preparing me for such a time as this. The most precious moment was when one member got up and slowly made his way to the front while I was preaching. A few friends later expressed their breathless anticipation and anxiety as they feared he was coming up to stop me. Instead, he sat down on the front row to fully absorb and witness what God was up to that day. Though his speech is severely limited, he expressed his appreciation and affirmation. I’m grateful for every opportunity to boldly proclaim what the Spirit has revealed.