,

Oh Mother, Where Art Thou?


Post Author: Alex Hendrickson


Did Mary ever worry about “having it all?”

This conversation about the mother/pastor takes place in locales as diverse as the cool confines of a National Cathedral chapel to cinderblock classrooms in the desert southwest, in seminary dining halls and the parlors of women’s restrooms in the Deep South. It is a badge of honor, it seems, to tell war stories that involve the intertwining of children’s bodily functions and committee meetings. It is necessary exegesis to mention how women’s bodies more closely mirror than do men’s the nurturing, originating image of our Creator God. A photo of a smiling toddler in the arms of pastor Mommy is mandatory for the websites and brochures of churches who want to project a progressive, family-centered atmosphere.

And many men of the church stand on the sidelines of all this mother-womb-love and nod sagely, pleased to be so open-minded and willing to allow their female colleagues the chance to participate in the ecclesial version of The Second Shift (as identified by sociologist Arlie Russell Hochschild). It is no big news that women work more hours in the day, when you combine their work both in and out of the home, than do their male colleagues and spouses. But I am sorry to see that the church is so eager to encourage women clergy to embrace this exhausting routine as some sort of positive paradigm for ministry.

Some might ask, why not just stay home with your children? I can see the value in the decision some female friends made to give up their professional ministry (or at least put it on hold during their children’s youth). This is a clearer, more definite answer to the issue of pastor-motherhood. To keep home and family at home, separate from work and public life sets a compelling and straight-forward boundary for the contemporary family. But I don’t want to give up my professional ministry.

A couple of months ago, very early in a new call as associate pastor to a large, midwestern church, we held a traditional Vacation Bible School Sunday service. As I stood with microphone in hand, surrounded by nearly a hundred children, I attempted to deliver a children’s message. In the crowd of kids at my feet, my four-year-old son began to fidget and cry. No one from a sanctuary of over three hundred worshippers stepped forward to assist me. I picked up my child, held him in my arms, and lamely continued my VBS-themed presentation. Later, many people mentioned how they thought it “nice” that I had held my boy during his distress.

But I didn’t find it nice. I felt angry that no one thought to help me. I had prepared my message and wanted two arms to act out the vigorous “splash!” of God’s love that the children had learned all week in Bible School. I also felt embarrassed that the whole congregation watched, possibly to judge what my child and I would do. Would the new associate pastor’s son behave? Can the associate calm down her child in front of a large crowd? If she can’t deal with her own children, how can we expect her to lead Christian Education events with our kids? The old stereotypes about pastors’ kids’ (“PKs”) are alive and well, just repackaged and re-imagined for a new generation of children who call their pastor Mommy instead of Daddy.

I want to do my job. I want to do it well. God called me to the Ministry of Word and Sacrament. I worked hard in seminary, jumped through numerous denominational hoops to secure my ordination, and worked in tandem with congregational search committees to find the right call for my gifts and abilities. I want to do my job as a mother, as well. My husband and I work hard to be loving, nurturing parents. God called me to mother these particular children. I want our family to model the biblical ideal of unconditional, selfless love.

But I cannot simultaneously provide pastoral care to a member of my congregation while trying to care for one of my children. Those pastor-mothers who insist that visiting a homebound Christian while also holding a babe in their arms is the best way to bridge the gap to pastoral care are mistaken. They are selling short their children, their care-receivers and themselves. No one is enjoying the full benefit of their attention and care and they are using their children to do the work of forming relationships.

The genesis of this Second Shift mentality within the church is also reflected in denominational structures. Many governing bodies within mainline denominations still do not have required maternity, paternity, or family-leave policies in place. Most congregations do not provide consistent childcare for evening or weekend church meetings. Church preschools and daycare centers often operate at less-than full time schedules. (My current congregation offers preschool until 2 o’clock in the afternoon; I am expected to remain at church until four or five.) The church makes it hard for women to make the choice to pastor and emotionally rewards women who choose not to erect firm boundaries around their home and family lives.

2006 was the fiftieth anniversary of women’s ordination as pastors in my denomination, the Presbyterian Church (USA). I began joking late in 2005 that the slogan for the anniversary year should be “50 years and nothing’s changed!” I said this cynically, snidely, to my friends and my spouse, knowing full well that things had changed, had improved in the five decades since Margaret Towner pledged her ordination vows.

My presbytery planned a special service to honor this event; I arrived early to the meeting in order to settle my kids into the unfamiliar nursery. I waited and waited, but no one arrived to care for the children. Eventually I went home, because the planners of this special anniversary event neglected to arrange a nursery attendant. Fifty years – has there been sufficient change? It is a miserable moment when you realize you haven’t been cynical enough.

So, what should the church do? The church should demand that women clergy truly parent and work as colleagues equal to male clergy. This means direct access to excellent childcare. This means space and time for both male and female clergy to be with their families at home on weekends and in the evening. This means paying appropriate wages to allow for childcare measures. Most of all, it means allowing women to be defined as Pastor in the church.

I love my children. I love my family. I love my church. I don’t love feeling as though the church loves me conditionally. I don’t love feeling as though my worth as a pastor is judged and contingent upon my success as a mother.

Do your pastor a favor today. Ask her about her ministry, not about her kids.


Alexandra M. Hendrickson is the Associate Pastor of First United Presbyterian Church in Belleville, Illinois. She has previously served PC(USA) congregations in Arizona and Kentucky. Alex is a 1997 graduate of the University of Arizona and a 2001 graduate of Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. Alex and her husband, the Rev.Brett Hendrickson, have three young children, Thomas, Lily, and David.


Image by: Grant Whitty
Used with permission
27 replies
  1. Pearl says:

    I finally stepped out of parish ministry….our little guy would not deal with random, frankly inadequate nursery workers and i decided not to blame him….there was no childcare at diocesan and clergy events and it would not have made a difference since they wouldn’t stay with random people. I miss parish ministry….but I would have missed this more. I’m glad I have a choice and I hate there’s not better options.

    Reply
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  3. Magdalene says:

    Great article, Alex. My kids are older, so I didn’t experience much of what you describe in my parenting and ministry (though there were some harrowing moments as a Christian Education Director, a in the years before seminary). I agree wholeheartedly: childcare that is good and affordable. So simple; such an enormously important piece of the puzzle.
    Mags

    Reply
  4. Stacy says:

    Alex,
    Thanks for the article. I can relate, as well as my husband who is also a priest, to your story of your child crying, and no one offering to help! I have heard many whisperings about how Pastor Stacy doesn’t care about us, she just sits with her kids at coffee hour. Yes, I do sit with my 22 month old, 27lbs a piece toddler twin boys when I am the only parent (which I always am at church, my huband is at another parish) and they are eating a snack. I’m not going to drage them crying and kicking from table to table. Yes, I’m such a terrible pastor, I take care of my kids setting such a horrible example, er good example? Uh, why doesn’t she just bring a babysitter with her? Yep, it’s no fun. I have found that for the most part my parishoners are very helpful with the boys, and they are very good kids. But their still little kids, and I’m thier momma, and by the time I pick them up from the nursery, they want to go home. And the same thing happens when the boys are with daddy.
    What is really frustrating is trying to attend diocesan events that have no childcare (and that’s all of them unless I make a request), and yet it is mandatory to attend. Last year we took the boys to clergy conference with us and a babysitter was hired on our behalf for the daytime sessions. Our colleagues were slightly more compassionate than our parishoners, but not by much. I don’t know what we are going to do this year, the boys are getting too big to sleep in pack n’ plays, so we may have to toss a coin to see who goes and who stays home. Mandatory or no, our family comes first (I’m sure my parishoners would say the same of their own families), and the church is having a difficult time catching up with that! Definately worth some prayers over, and making some holy rabble raising. You speak with a prophetic voice, Alex. They didn’t like Amos either (or Jeremiah, or Ezekiel, or….)
    Thanks again, Alex!
    Stacy

    Reply
  5. Susan O says:

    I’m not a mother, so I’ll stay out of much of this, but one point that is important to me is that ministry is this odd profession where you are expected to bring your children at least once a week to your workplace (and, in fact, probably judged if you do not bring said children to church on Sunday). Imagine if the expectation was that everyone bring their child to, say, the doctor’s office where they work once a week, for a couple of hours, and have that child watch mommy work, but not interrupt her!!
    That said, I think it throws a whole different spin on what a congregation could and should do. Those children are members (or pseudo members, depending on your definition), and if any other child was fussing while his or her parents were conducting the choir or serving communion, I would like to think that people would help out. Maybe I’m wrong there. I hope not.

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  6. Jennifer C says:

    Alex, wow, thanks for this article. It is challenging and bold and truthful and all of us, and the Church, need to read words like these. That said, I don’t necessarily agree with all your conclusions. A lot of your experiences resonate deeply with me, and I often do feel frustration, embarrassment, and anger when I’m trying to bridge the pastor/mother gap. But I’m not sure I agree that it is the responsibility of the Church to take on so much of our struggle. And maybe that’s not what you’re arguing it *should* do. But I think of women in other professions, and then about women in hourly wage jobs and I feel humbly blessed for all the flexibility my job provides. Maybe it’s not so much a question of all churches providing the structure for comprehensive childcare, the maternity/paternity leave, etc. (which my small church just can’t do AND pay my salary), as it is expecting churches as communities to be more supportive and nurturing to their clergy, helping provide the structure that each individual needs. I am one who finds benefits in bringing babies on the occasional pastoral visit and into meetings, but at the same time, it drives me nuts when parishioners corner me to talk about really sensitive pastoral issues or to plan the next retreat when I have a fussing child in my arms who is desperate for my attention. I struggle with how to make my precise needs known to my congregation in a way they will understand–because I believe they will work with me and help me be the best minister I can be if I make it clear to them what I need.
    Again, thanks for pushing the envelope. It’s the only way we’ll make progress. I’m now going to look up The Second Shift.

    Reply
  7. Alex says:

    Alison,
    Thanks for your words and your apology. But I think you are over-analyzing my article and finding things that are not there…
    That being said — I think that anger is not necessarily the evil you are presenting it to be. Ah well, different opinions make the world interesting!
    Alex

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  8. Allison says:

    I apologize that my response did not convey compassion at all. I am truly compassionate for the position you are in and the wrestling that is obviously taking place inside of you. I should have used I-statements in that first paragraph. I’m sorry.
    However, just as you conveyed your passionate belief that the church is being unjust, I want to convey my passion that even more than we are called to serve the church, we are called to serve Jesus. I have only found heartache, frustration, anxiety and pain when I become angry towards the church for not caring for me and my family and I have come to the point where I believe pastors – fathers, mothers, whomever – are called to a life of sacrifice. As I said – it kind of sucks, sometimes – but it doesn’t involve a cross.

    Reply
  9. Alex says:

    Wow Alison,
    Your compassion is startling! Thanks for being so supportive of a sister in ministry. Have a blessed day!

    Reply
  10. Allison says:

    I read this and left it and have come back to it again and I still think being angry at the congregation because no one offered to help you with your son is rather ridiculous. In almost any job where a parent is in front of a child i.e. teacher, pastor, coach, doctor,etc., and a child was in need of… whatever from a parent… the parent would be expected to tend that child, I think. I don’t think it’s gender-specific or pastor-specific. You’re the kid’s parent. It’s your job to care for him.
    I am the parent of four children and the pastor of a church. I am the only pastor at this church and, blessedly, I have not and will not have my children in daycare. My church hired me eleven years ago when I was single and I have gotten married and had children since I was here. They have had to adapt, as have I. Sometimes they have had to give — sometimes it is me who has made the sacrifice. I don’t attend meetings on nights when my husband can’t be with the kids. I don’t visit the hospital until he gets home at night, unless it is an emergency. Most nights I don’t get to eat dinner with my family and sometimes I miss bedtime entirely. I have to ask people to help when there is an emergency or a funeral. Sometimes my husband has to use vacation time to cover me doing my job.
    Getting ticked off at the church has not served me well. What has helped is figuring out what I was called to do in ministry. I believe that when I was called to ministry, Christ asked me to take up a cross and follow. It is a difficult calling and sometimes, frankly, a pain in the ass. But I don’t think I should expect anything less than crucifixion, if I am doing my job faithfully. Living in a comfortable house, with an income above the poverty level, a pension and a congregation who cares for us is just astonishing icing on this slice of cake that is my life.
    If that is boasting… well, so be it. I am extremely grateful and thankful that this is what God has provided for us. We make it work because we believe this is the journey to which God has called us. Easy — no. Full and blessed — yes.
    Good luck wrestling with this. I hope you find some answer that gives you and your family peace.

    Reply
  11. Preacher Mom says:

    Great article, Alex! In my current call, my children are the only children in the church. Believe me, the church really doesn’t “get” it! Shortly after I brought my infant daughter home from Guatemala, I found myself once again in the nursery with her just minutes before worship was to begin. For some reason, they couldn’t seem to remember to staff a nursery after so many years of not having to do so. One of the elders came bounding through the door looking frantic. “Where have you been? It’s time for worship to start!” I just looked at him calmly and replied, “I thought I’d keep the nursery today since no one else is available. You can preach for me today.” Needless to say, it was only moments before help arrived (I think he made his wife do it!) and there was always someone available from then on.
    Like you, I find myself feeling resentful when I am expected to be in official “up-front” duties and no one steps up to care for the kids. I feel resentful if I am criticized for leaving a church event early because the kids are hungry/sleepy/grumpy/ill and the event planners have failed (once again, in spite of my reminders) to make provisions for the children. This is a particularly sticky situation for me, as I’m a single mother. And they wonder why we can’t attract and keep younger families!
    As for denominational events – I only remember one event in my 11 years in my presbytery when childcare was offered. ARGHH!

    Reply
  12. Kristin says:

    I am writing this comment while my son sleeps on my chest and the rest of the ministry team is doing worship planning downstairs. I am not telling you this in order to boast. Instead, I understand the frustration you articulate, Alex. Yet rather than feeling annoyed that I have to sit with my son because there isn’t sufficient daycare, I recognize that my bringing him with me to work was my choice. I could, economically, have placed him in daycare. But I want to be with him–despite the interruptions and the sometimes maddening lack of productivity that his presence creates. The adventure of parenting well and ministering well requires certain balancing acts and an awful lot of juggling. But I suppose we are all doing the best we can in a flawed system. I deeply believe that being open to the interruptions and annoyances of children is part of my spiritual formation. I am learning how to be hospitable. I am learning how to welcome the stranger. Slowly.
    I am truly thankful that my office and my church embrace these parenting and pastoring choices I am making. Is it hard? Yes. Frustrating sometimes? Definitely. Do I wish that worship planning could be pushed back to accommodate the needs of an exhausted child? Of course. I agree wholeheartedly with your call for church reform.
    But then again, I am thankful that I feel I can miss that meeting occasionally without undercutting my role here as pastor. I suppose my disagreement lies here: “The church should demand that women clergy truly parent and work as colleagues equal to male clergy.” I feel like that statement is rooted in the idea that we should also revise our expectations of motherhood in order to fit into our normal, American standards and expectations of productivity. Perhaps we should instead revise our expectations of pastoring to fit into a wider understanding of family, life, wholeness, and health. Granted, I continue to work on revising my own expectations for each day’s “to do list.” Our notions of what is “productive” are deeply ingrained. Quite often I feel like rather than doing it all, I am instead letting everyone down.
    Still, I think that we need to work on those ideas. What is productivity? What does “effective ministry” have to look like? Does it always challenge our roles as good parents, or can they go hand in hand? Is there a one-size-fits-all solution? I sort of doubt it.
    I am enjoying the conversation. Thanks for challenging me.

    Reply
  13. Alex says:

    Sarah —
    I will be the first to admit that I’ve had my three-month-old in two meetings already this week! I have no other good choices right now… but these things are far from my ideal! And I *have* heard clergy-moms “boasting” about these things, which is different (in my mind) than talking, telling stories and discussing the issues with an eye towards change.
    Peace!

    Reply
  14. Sarah says:

    Alex – great article.
    Full disclosure – I am one who has written on the pro side of taking your baby to work (although I hope not boastfully), breastfeeding during committee meetings, showing the world that women are fully integrated human beings… you get the idea. I write that though with the full knowledge that the systems is terribly imperfect. That access to good childcare and things like flexibility to accommodate school schedules are still just pipes dreams for many. I wrote (and continue to write) about taking my baby to work so that others know that it is possible to blend work and home – that the world doesn’t fall apart when children show up on the scene.
    Perhaps this is too much of having the cake and eating it too but I hope that those of us who are comfortable hauling kids around to worship and meetings will be more and more welcomed to do so. And I hope that the presence of children at these kinds of events will remind people (parishioners, Sessions and the like) that children are part of the church and have specific needs of their own like safe play spaces and supervision that cannot always be provided by a parent (whether the parent is the pastor or not).
    Ultimately I hope that no matter how moms who happen to be pastors address the inadequacy of the system, that each time it gets addressed we move toward a better system.

    Reply
  15. Heather Culuris says:

    Just this last week, I went to a women’s spirituality conference where a woman pastor who was a speaker made a profound comment, I think. She said that she has learned that while she is called to be a pastor, she is called to be a pastor with the full integrity of who she is, which is being female. And that means at times not doing things the traditional way.
    I’m not sure that pastoral and personal space are so totally separate and easily distinguished. We as pastors are part of intimate moments for other families in a way that most professionals are not. And I’m not sure the answers are clean cut, at least for me.
    When we have to make a pastoral hospital call in a hospital an hour away, which is also a place with the best indoor park and shopping around, our daughter does go with us, not to help us build relationships, but because she too has a relationship of her own with many of our people and even at her young age, she cares about them. When we are called to be at the waterpark for a youth event on our wedding anniversary, she goes too. When we have a wedding and the invitation is to all of us, all three of us go, if possible. Other times she does not accompany us.

    Reply
  16. Alex says:

    You are right, Katherine. I guess that women are doing the best they can in an imperfect system. But I don’t think glorifying the imperfection will lead to change — I think it will lead to the normalization (is that a word?) of the ways women are forced to compromise both their personal and pastoral space.

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  17. Katherine says:

    Alex, I really appreciate this article, especially as I am in the beginning stages of being a pastor and mother. Your insights and call for change within the church are great.
    That said, I keep going back to this part: “It is now de rigueur for women pastors to describe their intertwined work and family life after the arrival of a child by boasting along the lines of, “I brought her to work and breastfed while wearing vestments.”
    This conversation about the mother/pastor takes place in locales as diverse as the cool confines of a National Cathedral chapel to cinderblock classrooms in the desert southwest, in seminary dining halls and the parlors of women’s restrooms in the Deep South. It is a badge of honor, it seems, to tell war stories that involve the intertwining of children’s bodily functions and committee meetings.”
    Your words here seem critical of these pastor/mothers. When these women give voice to their experience, why are they necessarily “boasting”? If the stated problem is institutional inequality for women regarding children and childcare issues, why criticize the women who are doing the best they can in an imperfect system?

    Reply
  18. LambSoup says:

    I’m so very glad to see this article in publication!
    May I share a few thoughts from my own experience? This past Lenten season at my church, I led an adult study in which we looked at Jesus’ words about birthpangs and how the joy of parenting makes childbirth worth the pain. In commenting on what she saw as the truthfulness of Jesus’ insight, one woman felt it necessary to say to me (her pastor), “You’ve never had children so you don’t know.” It seems not to have occurred to her that Jesus had never had children, either, but this didn’t render his remark invalid.
    My (non)parental status is none of my parishioners’ business, whereas supporting parents in a church (including clergy who are parents) is the responsibility of a congregation’s members. Happily, few of my parishioners are concerned about whether or not I have kids (just the occasional woman whose life has been much more defined by traditional domestic work than mine is), and none of the children or youth in my congregation apparently feel I won’t “get” them because I’m not a parent. In fact, my husband and I enjoy a connection with kids that’s positively shaped by the fact that we’re not their parents.
    In any case, I pledge to help the next struggling parent or grandparent of a wiggling toddler. It is my Christian duty!

    Reply
  19. Bethany says:

    Thank you all for sharing and for your insights. My husband and I are a clergy couple (sharing 1.5 positions) debating – do we or don’t we?
    You’ve certainly given us much to add to our discussion!

    Reply
  20. rev amy says:

    this is so beautiful….thank god for a place like this to express these thoughts….i wish more would read. keep writing sisters….

    Reply
  21. purechristianithink says:

    The failure to provide childcare for things like Presbytery or Association meetings drives me nuts. This practically guarantees that these gatherings will be dominated by the over 50 crowd. I’m planning to attend the PCUSA General Assembly as an observer this year. On the registration page of the Website under “childcare” it simply states that GA is a business meeting not designed for families and that parents should think long and hard before deciding to bring their children with them. Only after a whole paragraph of caveats do they grudgingly provide a number you can call to get a list of childcare centers that MIGHT have space for your child during that week.
    As it happens, my kids are old enough to stay home and attend daycamp that week. But only a few years ago, those helpful instructions would probably have convinced me to forget the whole thing.

    Reply
  22. Alex says:

    Erica,
    This is a great point about your spouse and his inability to participate due to childcare issues!
    I agree that the flexibility of pastoring is 99% wonderful — but there are serious issues that need to be addressed systemically, not individually. We need to be advocates for all of our “sisters in clergy”.
    Alex

    Reply
  23. Erica says:

    Thanks! Good thoughts!
    I wonder, too, if churches realize that for non-clergy husbands, sometimes the lack of help with a child means that they loose out on the gifts of one of their members. My husband, not clergy, is an all-around fabulous, dedicated church guy. He’s been the full time caregiver for our daughter (this alone has been a bit of a sacrifice that my congregation doesn’t quite get.) He would gladly be involved in music, committees, youth ministry, mens ministry, whatever, but often can’t because he has to take charge of the babe so that I can be completely present to work. (On Good Friday, he really wanted to help with music, and so we had to ship the baby off to my parents, an hour away, because it felt “wrong” to ask a church person to watch her, thereby not allowing that person to go to church. But notice here…there was no nursery offered!!!!)
    On the other hand, while agree with so much of this, I know that part of the reason I went into ministry was that I knew there was some ability to make the boundaries and the schedule somewhat malleable, so that I could be pastor and mother.

    Reply
  24. Sarah says:

    Thank you for the timing of this article. It really articulated the struggle I have felt personally with being a mom to a 2 year old daughter, and a full time solo minister.
    Many in my congregation just do not ‘get it’. They don’t get the need for childcare during meetings, or bible study, or special services. So I usually end up arranging said childcare because at least half the time, I have our daughter with me.
    (Like Alex, I’m also married to clergy, and I grumble about the fact that the expectations for John are not the same as the expectations for me as a woman – and we don’t even work for the same church, let alone the same denomination!)
    They also don’t get that I’m not always able to have a conversation before or after the service with people because I’m trying to keep an eye on my child at the same time (and she’s at the age that she runs away quickly and gets into stuff even quicker.)
    That being said, I also feel blessed. I work reasonably flexible hours. We have great, affordable childcare during the day three days a week, and two fantastic older teenagers who willingly look after our daughter during services. I am able (most of the time) to truly minister to my congregation.
    Yes, sometimes they don’t get it. Yes, there is lots more that could change. But on the whole, I’m blessed to be called to be a minister, wife and mother.

    Reply
  25. reverendmother says:

    Great, provocative article!
    I would respond by saying, Yes. And No. (Sorry, this got long)
    YES to the perniciousness of the “you can have it all” meme. I am now working part-time and I love it. I do get a little wistful and downright envious of my (male) colleagues who are “passing me by” career-wise, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I had to take a step back for my sanity and for the integrity of these two vocations of minister and mother.
    YES to the need for childcare. That story about the clergy women gathering made me say WTF? Please tell me you sent a STERN e-mail to the event planners!
    YES to the need for a decent salary, some evenings off, and some HELP when the PK needs some corralling. (I wonder if people refrain from stepping in out of concern about unintentionally “insulting” our ability to handle the situation. Or, whether they don’t want to come across as intolerant of a kid just being a kid.)
    Regarding juggling minister and mommy together: with my first two children, I delayed full-time child care using a patchwork of working from home, bringing them with me, and weekly babysitters to do the stuff that just didn’t work with a baby nearby. Since I was nursing it made some sense, but it was also VERY difficult. With this third one I am doing more childcare and less juggling and it’s been great for my sanity. Of course, it’s only two days a week which makes it easier.
    Regarding bringing your child to a pastoral care visit. It’s not cut and dried to me. Depends on the kid, the nature of the visit, and the pastor. I wouldn’t pull a kid out of daycare to do it; that smacks of exploitation. But if s/he’s already with me for some reason that day, and a visit needs to take place–the right kind of visit–heck yeah I would do it, for a variety of reasons.
    First, I do believe that the multi-generational nature of ministry is very powerful. Here is one place where that can happen.
    Second, and this is a larger point, I want to be an integrated person with my congregation. Sometimes we have to Wear Our Minister Hat, or our Mother Hat. But sometimes I don’t want a hat. I’m not a collection of roles. I’m just me. A clergy person in the greeting line with a baby on her hip.
    Third, and this may be controversial, but I want my kids visible whenever appropriate because I don’t ever want my church to forget that I have children. I am amazed by how many people don’t even know what my kids look like, since they’re back in the nursery much of the time. I feel like having them up front is a subtle reminder that, while there will be specific times when a church issue will be my #1 priority, when you look at the balance of my life, they absolutely come first.
    That said, I hardly ever, ever preach about them. Like, maybe once a year I will use an example from their lives. I want to be authentic and integrated as a pastor, but there are some parts of my life that the church does not have access to.
    I really, really appreciate the article, Alex.

    Reply
  26. mamas says:

    Wow. Thanks for writing what I’ve been feeling. I love that women ministers are redefining ministry and trying to find ways to balance ministry and family life. But it surely frustrates me that while I was leading the prayers and my son was running around not one single person stood up to get him and tell him his noise was not appropriate at this time.
    How do mother-ministers teach people, the congregation and the church to assist us and support us?

    Reply

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