Pride is one of those words that I struggle with in my bones as a pastor. I grew up in a home where my parents were not shy about telling my brothers and me that they were proud of us and that pride was not singularly tied to accomplishments. They were proud of how we treated others, lived into who we were created to be, and showed up in the world. I grew up in an extended family, where my maternal grandparents were a staple of our lives and not only said they were proud but showed it - pulling out pictures to show their friends of our latest band concert, game, play, or dance recital. There wasn't a shortage of the word pride, nor was it in any way tied to the concept of sin - in my mind, there were different buckets between good pride and pride that may distract and lead me down a road of self-importance. 

So imagine my surprise when preaching at one of my small congregations, and I said that I am proud of the relief work that my denomination engages in, collectively, during times of natural disaster, only to have a gentleman start shouting at me that I was sinning by saying the word "proud" from the pulpit. There was some scripture quoting as his voice raised, leaving me without words before I finally said, "Let's go to God in prayer."

This man was wrestling with some deep wounding within his own life, and the life of this congregation, but his words continue to be ones that I wrestle with years later. Is it wrong to feel a sense of pride in the qualities of ourselves or others that are God-given? I don't think so. It is also not lost on me that one of the definitions of pride found in the dictionary is conscious of one's dignity. 

When my parents and grandparents said they were proud of me, they affirmed my dignity. When someone says they are proud of how our church shows up in the community in which we are located or that I'm their pastor - they are making a statement about dignity. Yet, for far too long, there has been this convoluted idea that all pride cometh before the fall, and as a result, we have stripped away people's dignity. 

I don't need people to tell me they are proud of me to live into being a pastor. I don't show up in other areas of my life and pour out my heart for accolades. And yet, there also needs to be an acknowledgment of the profound harm that the institutional church can inflict when we adopt the attitude that boiled out of my congregation members that day. We do not have the right to use the idea that we should not be proud people to diminish others' dignity. 

​Pride and all of its nuances may be something that I have struggled with my whole life, but for this moment in time, I know this - God is the giver and restorer of dignity, and any time that my church can show up and remind people of that, I am a proud pastor. 

I recently met with a mentor who I deeply trust to speak truth into my life. During the meeting she said something that I have been wrestling with: “Michelle, did you notice that you were ‘mother’ in the group.”

I have to admit that my first reaction was to bristle. 

I was never one to want to be a mom growing up. I played with baby dolls, but just as much as I played with dinosaurs. I didn’t spend time thinking of children’s names. I celebrate with my sisters who did spend time thinking about these things and find such deep joy and meaning in their children. I just knew, from a very earlier age, that wasn’t me.

So when my mentor named my identity as being the mother in the room, I wanted to give all of the reasons I shouldn’t be seen as a mother, starting with the fact that this was not an identify that I ever claimed. I don’t particularly see myself as nurturing. I’m certainly not good at showing unconditional love or being patient. 

But as I started to list all of my aversions to what she was saying, she gently stopped me and said, “No, Michelle, people look to you to lead with wisdom.” To lead with wisdom. Those words stopped me in my tracks.

What a beautiful and expansive view of mothering. Mothering not as being solely connected with bearing or raising children, as profound as that call is. But mothering in the way that I lift up on Mother’s Day each year - that some people are called to be spiritual mothers. 

With this realization I was able to name the qualities I do have that align with mothering - from loyalty, to humility, empathy, attentiveness, and teaching. By able to see these qualities as part of who I am, in all of my wholeness, I was able to reframe mothering from something that I could never do to part of who I am. Something I would never have noticed without my mentor’s words. 

We all have words that hit our heart and head. Those words that redefine our understanding of our very being. While I am still wrestling with the implications of this noticing from my mentor, I am thankful for her wisdom. 

​What is your understanding of mothering and how does it effect your vocation and identity as a pastor?