Then this month happened, and all the crappy part about what it is to be a woman in ministry came crashing down on me. I have been a hurt and angry person. And it is hard to say something anyone can hear when you are a snapping snarling dog. (Hmm, that's awfully close to another metaphor too often used for women, so don't nobody go there.)

I've learned some things this past month about being a woman in the emerging church that has deflated my happiness balloon. The first is this. Even though we are theologically on board with all people being involved in leadership and ministry, our praxis has not significantly changed. The men went to school first to do this thing called "pastoring." They met people there. They got mentored by people like Steve Nicholson. They were Len Sweet's teaching assistant. They learned each other's names, and what they were good at, and when they needed someone who was good at that they called each other. For a time, before they went crazy and did the next wave-ish thing, they got paid to do ministry so they had time to collect their thoughts, and read their books, and put their ideas down in sermons. They read N.T. Wright and Dallas Willard and things that had more than 100 pages. Now they share a common vocabulary that does not primarily consist of Olivia Saves the Circus with the occasional smattering of Traveling Mercies. They left the kids at home and traveled to conferences (which maybe their church paid for), which led to more contacts, which led to speaking gigs, which led to articles, which maybe morphed into book deals. Then they got invited to speak at Emergent.

We-the women (unless we were in the mainline churches)-we didn't get to do that stuff. We don't know the right people. No one knows to ask us. Or if they do know us, our name isn't as well known as the next guy's so it doesn't behoove them to put us on the conference list. We've got no draw. And as for building a stronger network by going to a conference-do you have any idea how much childcare costs for a three day conference (plus two days to travel)? This week I went to a one-day coaching clinic. My husband couldn't take off work to watch the kids, so my childcare bill was $200. You can see why, unlike most of my male peers who were at the clinic yesterday, I will not be joining the Emergent Village conference in San Diego! In the old church we weren't allowed to play. In the emergent church, we can play, but we don't have what is thought of as the right equipment. Or at least not all of it.

The second thing I've learned is that women-unlike men-are not allowed to be angry, or even frustrated, or really even forceful, assertive, or honest. Recently in the emergent scene there was a little fight over words. Some of the women stated their minds about it. They thought it sucked to be linguistically belittled. They thought it sounded idiotic, in 2004, to speak dismissively of women. Now, most people thought the whole brouhaha was about semantics. But for me, the sadness was that the only way I could be heard was to play nice, to make my language very soft, to send my message though the backdoor. Men and women both-all in the emerging, super hip, super with-it church-told me that my anger wasn't helping, and that I shouldn't express rage if I wanted to be like Jesus. (I seem to remember something about tables and whips in a temple…. But, whatever.) I saw Madeline Albright on television a few months ago, and she was talking about working with men in government. She said they used to pat her on the hand and say, "Now, now, Madame Secretary. Let's not get emotional about this." Her reply was something like, "This is Rwanda we are talking about. People are dying by the thousands. I think that merits some emotion."

Last week, after reading all the emergent blogs, my friend, an amazingly gifted teacher and worship leader, told me maybe she didn't want to pastor even in the emerging church, because it was just so discouraging that women were still so sidelined there. Maybe she could actually do more good outside of the church walls.

Yesterday at the clinic a young woman told us that she had abandoned her dream of pastoring and was going to pursue teaching theology as a university professor instead. In the ivory towers she wouldn't have to engage with the same level of discrimination against women, but she could still affect the church by teaching. Her mentor, a woman professor I know and admire, had told this young woman that's what she had done. That's why she was a professor and not a pastor.

Yesterday, at the coaching clinic a woman told us a story. She and her husband used to pastor a church. He was the senior and she was the assistant. The congregation was comfortable with that. He got sick. She took care of him and the church as the interim senior pastor while he was sick. He died. They hired someone else to take his place, a couple. She was let go.

This merits some emotion. This actually merits anger. And if the emerging church wants authenticity, we are going to have to find a way to let that be communicated, to let that be "helpful to the conversation." Because right now you're only getting half truths. We're only telling the socially acceptable part of our story. The part that says, "Oh, if you don't mind too much, here's how you can help us." But we need to tell the rest-the pain that cuts deep and the rage that follows. If we as a community can't manage to do that I'm not sure things will ever really change. And I know things will never totally heal as long as we have to continue to hide the reality of our lives.

This is what it has been like, for me, to be a woman in ministry this month. Maybe next month will be better.