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And the Joke's On Me . . . Part 1

Since my move across country from east to west, I have been wandering around like a lost sheep looking for my new flock. Those of you who have been "churched" will understand.  You find a church before finding a home because church is home and the committed Christian generally wants to live as close to it as possible since they'll likely be there practically every time the doors are open.   This is especially true if you are a Presbyterian.  We Presbyterians love to form committees and hold meetings.  I don't know why this is, but it is what it is, so just accept it and enjoy the snacks and Maxwell House coffee.

Presbyterian women generally know how to cook although perhaps not as good as those Baptist women.  As a "Brit"living in the American South, and an extremely analytical person, I have concluded that the Baptists make better cooks because the Baptists surely do know how to fry up chicken, make biscuits, and those women make a mean gravy.  I think they use their chicken as a means to bring people to Jesus, and it works because the Baptists are clearly some of the finest evangelicals in gathering the sheep to the Shepherd. Everyone needs a Baptist woman in their social circle strictly for the food they bring to every gathering, although don't get them started on religion, especially the topic of baptism.

So, in my search for my new church I attended one of the local Baptist churches.  I went willingly because my teenaged niece asked me to, and since I spent time in prayer praying that she would become a Christian I was honored to attend her church.  It wasn't Mandarin Presbyterian, but I am downloading Kevin, Jen and Jeff's messages via podcast so I am getting my MPC fix weekly.

By the third week at the Baptist Church, I began to notice something very strange: each week the Deacons of the week were men. Never any women. That got me thinking.  I leaned forward to the woman ahead of me, someone I had met outside of the church, and asked, "Does this church have any female Deacons?"

Her eyes rolled as she said, "Are you kidding? The women belong in the kitchen and in the nursery. They can help out with things but not everything.  We have an ordained female minister who is not even allowed to baptize anyone."

So, I thought to myself, this is why the choir director preached the sermon while the pastor was away. Interesting.

As an ordained Deacon in the Presbyterian Church, I immediately informed my niece that I regretted that I would not be attending her church in the future but would start a thorough search for a church of my own, explaining to my niece that scripturally women played an important role in the church and even served as Deacons, citing scripture and verse.  Additionally, I pointed out to her that the story of Jesus missing from the tomb and his appearance before the women indicates not only that the story MUST be true, since if it was a lie they would have said He appeared before men, but by appearing before women it indicted the value He placed on women and their role in the church and spreading His word.

My niece poured over the scriptures with me, and was stunned. Her immediate reaction was that she was going to point this out to her Baptist minister and she wanted me to go with her, bringing my worn, scribbled in, and highlighted NIV edition of His word with me.

"Ash," I informed her, "I am not about to take on the Southern Baptist Convention."

"If anyone can do it, Auntie, it's you!"

Thanks for your vote of confidence, kid, but I don't have a dog in this fight, and it's just easier to go and find another church that accepts the importance of women in leadership.  Why, if it wasn't for women, who'd bring the snacks or call the meeting to order?

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