PROPHETIC
SISTERS IN MINISTRY
( delivered at the emerging UU Congregation of Cookeville,
TN, August 27, 2006
)
© Rev. Marti Keller
There is a story that is often told among the women in our UU ministry
about the prophetic sisterhood. They were what has been described by
Cynthia Grant Tucker, the woman among us who researched their lives,
as the entering wedge of ordained female ministers.
Sweeping across the heartland of America, founding small but hearty
churches, preaching and tending to their brave little flocks, making
change, and then like an ancestral tribe, disappearing. Leaving the landscape
of our liberal faith movement, followed by nearly three quarters of a
century when once again Unitarian and Universalist ministers were almost
exclusively both white and male.
When I first was studying to be an ordained UU minister-- like many
other women waiting until nearly mid-life-- I read about these forebears,
in fact preached about them, and wrote a religious education curriculum
about them for the congregation where I interned. I learned their names
and the locations and names of the churches they served, even passed
around three by five lined note cards to the women in the pews, letting
them read these biographies a loud. So that they would also know the
stories and remember them.
It has been almost a decade now since I was myself ordained and fellowshipped,
and in the meantime the hard drive that held that early, awkwardly constructed
sermon of mine has long since crashed, and the hard copy and the smudged
references have long since been discarded or buried in the boxes and
boxes of papers that still line the walls of my study.
And I am pricked with guilt for failing to honor these women, whose
lives made my life, or at least my choice of vocation possible, and whose
disappearance is at the very least for me both an inspiration, a reminder
to not take my position too lightly, and a cautionary tale.
If my talk this morning sounds at all self-serving, it truly is not
meant to be. It is meant to focus on the history and role of professional
female ministers, the function and influence they have had, especially
in the realm of worship and social justice. So we are all aware. So we
do not forget about what they contributed and also the stained glass
ceiling they found.
Cynthia Grant Tucker, in an essay she wrote around ten years ago and
then presented at an annual CENTER or continuing education, nurture and
training conference for UU ministers in l998, said that UU can boast--
as we often do about ourselves, often for good reason-- that for almost
100 years before we became one religious body, our churches of origin
led the way in accepting women as clergy with full denominational endorsement.
The first was Olympia Brown, who was extended ministerial fellowship
by the Saint Lawrence association of Universalists in l863, then Augusta
Chapin, then Phebe Ann Hanford. The Unitarians followed suit in l871.
That we were the among the first, if not the first to ordain, to recognize
women as professional religious leaders, would seem logical, a natural
extension of our heretical position in the then Christian pantheon. After
all we had broken with orthodoxy in so many arenas already, rejecting
the Calvinist doctrine that as Cynthia Tucker writes emphasizes human
depravity and restricted salvation only to the pre-destined, questioning
the literalness of every line of scripture-- that the Bible was indeed
fallible-- and arguing against the notion that Jesus was’ death
on the cross was the final act of atonement for every sin in perpetuity.
This willingness to take on sacred theological cows also created within
Unitarianism and Universalism an aversion to dogmatic rule and ecclesiastical
hierarchies, which led to building their societies-- their congregations
and denominational bodies-- on simple covenants that made all members
equal,-- a priesthood and prophethood of all believers-- and their congregations
self-governing.
Therefore it was natural that we were the first among Protestant groups
to ordain women, but also disturbing that we did so with, as Tucker says,
with so little enthusiasm and with so little support. No matter how bold
we were in taking on the huge theological issues of sin and salvation,
the supernatural status of Jesus and the premise of blood atonement,
we were -- or at least our UU fathers were-- squeamish about tampering
with the sexes’ traditional roles and especially the prospect of
females entering the churches’ inner sanctum. Like the Temple in
Jerusalem ,where women were allowed only on the outer edges and the men
given access to the place of the most holy.
Cynthia GrantTucker tells us that seminaries were slow to allow women
to enroll and women who did enter the program soon learned that this
was no guarantee that churches would call them or they would have access
to the tangible and intangible institutional networks that would foster
them and help them succeed.
And lest we think it was only the men in our mostly forward looking
tradition that were resistant to adding women to the ministerial ranks,
it was the women also who were mostly reluctant to leave their lay supporting
roles, as active and admirable as they were.
Judith Sargent Murray, whose husband had founded America’s first
Universalist church in l779, was often provoked to remind what she called
the “haughty sex” that their own theological argument that
God had created all people as equals, meant that they were therefore
entitled to use their abilities as God meant them to, not as men dictated.
Universalist Mary Livermore, a minister’s wife and a Sanitary
Commission relief worker during the Civil War-- precursor to the Red
Cross-- concluded from her experiences on the front that too much of
the nation’s business was badly done or not done at all, because
women’s talents as leaders were not being utilized.
Unitarian Julia Ward Howe, known to most of you I am sure, for being
the composer of the Battle Hymn of the Republic and creator, or co-creator
of Mother’s Day, which was meant originally to be a day to call
for peace and justice, was known to lecture the men and the women in
her own denomination about the hypocrisy of claiming to be a free and
democratic church when they would not open the pulpits to all who were
qualified to preach.
And it was not just access to the pulpit that these and other of our
UU sisters were demanding. For 20 years before the first women were recognized
as full professional ministers, liberal churchwomen had been appearing
on platforms as part-time licensed preachers. While still frowned upon,
these “daring displays” were becoming frequent enough to
embolden others to make themselves more visible.
We are told that some women began to realize that they already were
de facto running their own churches and doing what I like to call full
service parish ministry, not only managing social events, raising funds
for new buildings, and making the rounds of parish calls, but tending
the Sunday schools, writing prayers and hymns, and even providing the
music for their own worship services.
Mary H. Graves, one of our pioneer women ministers, explained of her
own decision to seek ordination, that once a self-respecting, devoted
churchwoman realized that she had already been doing a minister’s
job, and doing it well without the help of a minister’s wife, it
was, as she said, only a matter of time before she would want her work
to be recognized by having it called by its proper name and being rewarded
monetarily.
Her chance came-- and the chance for dozens of others-- when denominational
leaders began to plan for westward and rural expansion, outside the comfort
zone and cozy circles of what had been mostly a New England or at least
an East Coast tradition.
Few of the men wanted to give up their established congregations, uproot
their families and live on frontier wages to carry the good news about
our truly saving faith and to literally build new churches.
And so they did, the group of women whom have been called the Prophetic
Sisterhood, moving into uncharted liberal religious waters-- or more
accurately huge expanses of prairie-- to Illinois and Nebraska and Iowa.
And Michigan where for example Rev. Ida B. Hultin , often drove her horse
and cart 40 or more miles a day over rough terrain to “tend to
a passel of churches there.”
These women, besides getting the toughest, roughest and least coveted
assignments, faced various critiques, including accusations from their
fellow religious liberals that these pioneer women who took it upon themselves
to preach and lead worship and plant churches were working and living ” outside
their spheres”, not having the physical and emotional constitution
to weather the rigors of church life and politics.
“Can the greater delicacies and sensitiveness of women bear the
buffets and frowns, the criticisms often harsh and unfeeling” they
asked doubtfully. “ Can a female minister preserve her good nature,
her self-possession, her cheerfulness, despite the crosses incident to
all public positions, and which are most bitter in a pastoral career?
Nature will settle the question.”
Others, men and women, defended against this portrait , calling for
the institution within Unitarianism and Universalism of simply a more
human ministry, male and female. Less harsh and more balanced.
In reality, the early women in our movement found it difficult in most
cases to combine marriage and ministry, and in large part the churches
they served were a result of either being married into it-- organize
one herself- or accept one that was on such shaky financial grounds that
no male would take it.
Once in these congregations, however, membership figures, treasurers’ reports,
and personal tributes in archives record abundant support at the grassroots
for the women who did persevere.
They not only persevered ,they flourished in many respects, using sermons
and liturgy to speak of the values that strengthened family, home and
community, making worship and ritual language more gender inclusive.
Committed to a ministry that went beyond the traditional focus on Sunday
morning pulpit appearances, devoting themselves to Sunday schools, adult
study groups, and filling their buildings with activity, making the word “church
home” much more meaningful. Creating warm, loving faith communities
for people whose more progressive religious beliefs and ethics made them
feel isolated in the wilderness.
Partnering with lay women-- and men-- to further the causes of social
reform. Prison and “work house” reform, the care of orphans
and widows, public education, suffrage, and alcohol abuse. Through their
sermons, in their towns , opening their sanctuaries and parish halls
for public lectures and service programs.
As our church historian Cynthia Grant Tucker has written, ironically
just when it started to seem as if women’s ministry had the momentum
to enter the 20th century and flourish, the movement suddenly came to
a halt for several reasons. Evangelical competition from many other churches
in the communities where our Universalist and Unitarian women worked,
the migration of more liberal people from these small towns to more accepting
and enriching larger cities, and the development of the social gospel
movement within mainstream Protestantism. Giving the option to churchgoers
to hear moral and ethical preaching at more “respectable” congregations.
Perhaps the most devastating development was the cultural trend to counter
what some saw as an alarming effeminate trend in American society with
a full scale crusade to restore what was billed as toughness and virility
in church life. This trend did not bypass our own Unitarian and Universalist
professional movement, with discussions of how to promote more business-like “masculine” conduct
and a tradition of annual exclusively male ministry retreats , an aggressively
promoted Unitarian Laymen’s league and the Men and Religion Forward
movement urging more muscular sermons. As one of the women ministers
at the turn of the 20th century observed, the church evicted its best
female talent out of what at least some saw even then as a warped vision
of vigorous religion.
These driven out Unitarian and Universalist women, at least some of
them, became social workers and reformers, working on getting the vote,
starting peace organizations , health centers, schools for black children,
and camps for diabetic girls. Certainly they contributed to the liberal
religious movement, as did their lay sisters, but their public prophetic
voices had largely been silenced, and their style of ministry mostly
repealed.
This is the Unitarianism I was brought to as a very small child, one
that on one hand was bold and outspoken and rigorously intellectual upstairs
where the adults listened to sermons and lectures, and one that downstairs
in its Sunday school was creative and nurturing and filled with stories
and myths from all kinds of cultures. This upstairs/downstairs was also
unfortunately a male/female split. I never saw a female in the pulpit
on those mornings when I chose to sit next to my father and be with the
grown-ups. I never saw one preach as I became a teenager, who was given
some chances to lead youth worship in the smaller chapel or social hall.
I was not even aware that women ministers had ever been a part of the
Unitarian liberal faith tradition, let alone that this might be my own
path sometime more than 40 years hence.
With the l960’s and the second wave of the feminist movement,
there was a renewal finally of women in the UU ministry, with resolutions
at our General Assembly calling for recruitment of all able candidates
irrespective of sex, a development of an equal pay policy. Passage of
resolutions was one thing, but substantive change, as our historians
tell us, was quite another. When the UU Women’s Federation published
a survey of the status of women in the ministry in 1974, of the 750 clergy
in what we call ministerial fellowship, only 40 were women and only 5
of them had pulpits at all.
In the past thirty plus years, the status of professional women within
UU has improved enormously, especially in numbers, though like our sisters
in other moderate and liberal religious movements, we tend not to be
called to the larger congregations or to the highest ranks of our administrative
authority. While recently other mainline to liberal denominations have
elected women as heads, the Unitarian Universalist Association has yet
to have a female in the role of president.
I am aware I was asked to speak today about women in Unitarian Universalism
and particularly about women’s issues, and have spoken almost exclusively
about women in ministry and what was called in yesterday’s New
York Times, on the front page, the continuing stained glass ceiling.
Women are entering the professional ministry in large numbers, the article
reported, yet after ten years tend to be still in associate roles or
in the smallest congregations while their male cohorts find more opportunities
and at higher pay.
For me, the matter of women in ministry and women’s rights are
not unrelated.
We can be rightfully proud of the stands our religious association has
taken, its long history of involvement in women’s issues from Susan
B. Anthony and her leadership in the suffrage movement of the 1850’s
to work on the unfortunately failed equal rights amendment, to our early
and adamant support of reproductive choice, including our current active
involvement in the effort to get non-prescription emergency contraception
out to women in a climate where many have been denied it, even in hospitals,
even when their request comes after a sexual assault.
Our women’s federation has undertaken a major initiative to fund
cutting edge bold work in supporting the human rights of women and girls,
including grants for running public service announcements on Florida
radio stations in Spanish, Haitian-Creole and other languages to warn
about human trafficking of young women in the sex trade industry and
support of the new Spiritual Youth for Reproductive Freedom organization,
with chapters in colleges and universities across the country.
What I am inviting us all to consider is that the fabric of this religious
movement and the positions we take should be interconnected. That if
we are asking for barriers to be removed in the world at large, that
women’s voices be heard, that their lives be honored, that we need
to do so in our institutions. Promoting wholeness, nurturance and relationship.
Says Marjorie Leaming:
Feminism is not an issue. It is a whole thing. By that I mean that it
is not an issue in the way that the ERA or abortion or energy or the
environment is an issue. It is an overall category which includes the
positive creative side. The feminist vision is not a fairy tale but a
reality based possibility affecting every aspect of thinking, being,& doing.
It is yet again time to leap from our spheres.
May it be so .
This sermon contains references and background
materials from two invaluable sources: Leap from Our Spheres: The Impact
of Women on Unitarian and Universalist Ministry (UUMA CENTER Committee)
and Transforming Thought: Feminist Thought in the Context of Unitarian
Universalist Women, vol. 11 (UU Women’s Federation, l989)
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