It’s 2021, and women in the pulpit are not an unusual sight in many churches across the country. A 2018 study conducted by Eileen Campbell-Reed titled “State of Clergywomen in the U.S.: A Statistical Update” revealed some interesting facts about clergywomen in the U.S.; among them was that in most mainline denominations, the percentage of clergywomen has doubled or tripled since 1994. Still, while more women have the title “Rev.” in front of their names, obstacles while on the road to ordination, and even when serving in church, remain. Among those obstacles is the still pervasive problem of gender discrimination.
These are the strangest of times. As of this reading, things will likely be different than they were a month ago.
How much so? I cannot guess. But as a retired minister now serving as a spiritual director, I can say the
anxiousness felt by the pastors I see will continue.
The metamorphosis of the caterpillar transforming itself into a butterfly reminds many Christians — Emma Reed of First Presbyterian Church of Virginia Beach in Virginia, among them — of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA) volunteers Richard and Susan Caldwell had been praying about their mission work and where God would lead them to when fate stepped in. In April, tornadoes tore through their state the morning after Easter, sparing their South Carolina home but leaving extensive damage just blocks from their church, Seneca Presbyterian, and killing one person.
The pandemic has ushered in a time of bewilderment but also a golden opportunity, according to the Rev. Dr. Paul H. Lang, author of “The Pilgrim’s Compass: Finding and Following the God We Seek.”
The impact of mission delegations is said to be like the rock that hits the water and ripples outward.
That’s what Gene Ryan of Western Theological Seminary said about a previous trip to the border with his seminary class to visit Frontera de Cristo (FDC), a Presbyterian border ministry located in the sister cities of Agua Prieta, Sonora and Douglas, Arizona.
The Rev. Patrick Heery acknowledges that the church sign that got stolen, returned and then vandalized — all in a matter of days — is just a piece of cloth.
Alaska’s breathtaking beauty can be deceiving. Just ask anyone who calls the last frontier home. Suicide rates, among the highest in the country, show no signs of abating anytime soon. According to Alaska’s Department of Health and Social Services, suicides increased by 29% from 2012 to 2017, up 13% from 2007 to 2011. While substance abuse exacerbates these statistics, there are other factors as well. Alaska’s unofficial nickname, “Land of the Midnight Sun,” where the sun disappears during the winter, often leads to a spike in seasonal affective disorder. Then there are the economic repercussions of a weakening oil industry. Add in Alaska’s already isolated lifestyle and a slippery slope becomes slicker for its residents.
It’s a common sight from the window of Doug Marshall’s office at the Presbyterian Home for Children in Talladega, Alabama: A care worker accompanies a new girl from the administration building to the cottage that will be her new home.
Proclaiming the Good News of the Gospel and making known to others the teachings of Jesus has been integral to the church since its earliest days. We may ask, why does the church share its faith in Jesus Christ this way? The simple answer: We do it because Jesus commands us to do it (Matthew 28:19–20).
