If you tell me, even in your most honest, genteel voice, that you are worried, troubled even by the alarming amount of pastorless churches, about the need to think of creative strategies to fill these pulpits in America I will probably laugh in your face. I laugh not because I am normally a spiteful person, but because I am the "laugh so you don't cry" person. I am the "can't hold it in" person. I am the" laugh so long  until it  becomes a deeply guttural, bone-shaking movement that comes from an awareness of pain far more than humor" person.

This morning I ventured over to the Baptist Standard to look at the classifieds section, something I don't do very often because I find it depressing. It is depressing to see jobs that have been posted for months and months that I fit every qualification sans penis. I go through a cycle of turning over every rock to hiding under the biggest one I can find until I'm ready to start the process over again. So imagine my reaction to this article on the front page of the Standard, with my school prominently displayed as the visual representation.

 For the record, I like David Hardage, I feel personally supported by him. But how can we talk strategies when the numbers are so simple? According to the most recent census data, 49.2% of our population is male. Now consider the percentage of the 49.2% that are directly or indirectly discriminated against because of their marital status, ethnicity, etc. I'm not a mathematician, but it is easy to see the pool of candidates quickly diminishing. The problem is not a matter of calling. 

The problem is the church's assumption of authority to determine the validity of call on a whim, apart from relationships but instead based on checklists full of gender norms, political party affiliations , and other celebrated traits, calling out the ones that look just like the ones before, creating a little factory of cookie cutter "preacher boys." Maybe the #1 one problem of lack of respect for the pastorate (as described by Hardage through Knox) stems for the common knowledge that many of those who make it into the pulpit have been stripped of their unique calling and identity along the way so they can fit into another ridiculously small box. 

When I look at the list of cities with the least gender equality and see three south Texas cities, including Corpus Christi, the site for this year's BGCT (or whatever they are calling themselves now) annual meeting, I want to scream for Texas Baptists to do something about it. Then I remember the only time I've ever experienced sexual harassment is in the BGCT office in Dallas, known not so affectionately as "the building." I also remember that my experiences were quite mild compared to the stories of others I carry with me. I can't rightly ask the church to respond prophetically to the glass ceiling, the bamboo ceiling or any other oppression when its stained-glass ceiling encompasses them all.

After closing out the article in disillusionment, I stumbled across this gem (because of a tweet) by Sarah Bessey: