Jessica BriggsI remember the moment I felt called to Pastor. About 18 months after I finished my Masters in Counseling, I attended a spiritual retreat. I had an undeniable impression that I was being called to ministry, and specifically to Pastor. I couldn’t reconcile this theologically, having grown up in a denomination that taught that women are meant to serve, but only in the background.
I remember a conversation not long after with a beloved Women’s Pastor, who called out my anointing and gifts, charging me to preach and teach. I didn’t believe her. Not me. She even gave me books to read and I pushed them off. I stayed quiet. I remained mainly in the background in my church community. I was scared to be seen.
I remember the first time someone called me Pastor. In fact, it was my {Pastor} husband, who said that I’ve most shepherded his heart and purposed him to pursue Christ.
I remember the first time I taught a Bible study in my home and the first time I led a ministry project- with knees shaking. The first time I preached to a crowd of women for a Christmas cookie exchange, my voice quivered the whole time. But little by little, with faith, I kept going.
Over the years, I picked up the books. I started to put myself out there to be known. I stayed faithful in my relationship to Jesus and the people He sent to me for care. I counseled many people in late evenings at Starbucks. I walked people through inner healing and prayed with them through heartache. I spent many Wednesday morning with women sharing truth and words to continue the race.
Today my husband and I get to Pastor a chapel on a military base. Because of his role and influence, he has pushed me to step into my calling. Once a month now, I stand in the pulpit. I recognize many people still don’t welcome women in this position. But it’s taken me nearly a decade of praying, seeking, trusting and undoing to find the freedom Jesus offers. We’re all invited. Chromosomes do not exclude us from our gifts and callings.
Furthermore, Pastoring is far, far more than a 20 minute lecture from a podium. True shepherds know their sheep, and the sheep know their voice. Pastoring sometimes looks like coffee dates and text messages. It looks like play dates and casseroles delivered throughout the week. It looks like bringing over something to cheer up a would be Mom who just had a miscarriage. Pastoring is sitting with a couple struggling to communicate and helping them find their common ground and love for one another. It’s presence in the face of grief-stricken moments.
I’ve done all of this because I care for people. Or we give it language and say women who shepherd are just “nurturing.” But for whatever reason, calling a nurturing woman and caretaker of people a Pastor still ruffles feathers.
But we need to speak the truth in love. Women are born, gifted and called to be disciples. And to be a disciple means to study under the Rabbi, to become a “mini Rabbi.” Following Jesus always means to become more and more like Him. Jesus Pastored. His entire ministry was shepherding- caring for and protecting the sheep. Why do we exclude our language from including women in this call? Scripture teaches the priesthood of ALL believers, but we somehow make loopholes and caveats for how women cannot truly be a “Priest.”
Each Sunday that I preach, I sit in my husband’s office beforehand to pray, to be silent, to surrender. And today when I walked in, my lovely boy had left a flower for me to find. This moved me. I heard the whisper of the Spirit encouraging me to keep going- because there’s a little audience watching. My daughter and my son need to know that ALL people matter to Jesus. They need to know the Lord moves in and through everyday, ordinary people. Even women. Even their imperfect Mama.
