Life after evangelicalism
For those who are struggling, who have come to that realization they can no longer value one race over another, for those who ache with the poison of complicity, we have a faith of repentance and forgiveness.
I stood before the sea of black faces and preached. My heart burst in gratitude for the people who had come for miles, on foot, to see the awkward white Bible school students. I waited every few moments for the interpretation of my words, and watched how they fell on the crowd. I had never expected to preach, as a woman with a Southern Baptist background. And yet, I often found myself in pulpits in Kenya and Uganda.
As beautiful and life-changing as that experience was, I felt increasingly uncomfortable each time I got up. As an evangelical woman, when I had a stirring call to ministry, I decided to become a missionary, because that’s what evangelical women with a call to ministry do. I enrolled in a degree program in International Ministries and headed off to east Africa for my internship.
It was a beautiful time. I sang and danced. I learned how to cook flat bread over a fire. I discovered how to use my skirt as a baby-carrier and a picnic blanket. I found out how to roll a piece of cloth like a wreath, so that a water jug would stay balanced on my head. I tried (and usually failed) to carry water from the wells to the cooking huts. And, I learned to preach.
