Disciple: The Lasting Impact of the Philadelphia 11

BISHOP JENNIFER BROOKE-DAVIDSON
Sheila Robbins grinned and handed me a gift-wrapped box. She said, “This is for you.” It was the week of my ordination to the priesthood in 2009, and I unwrapped a green pottery chalice and paten. She interrupted my “thank you!” and continued, “I bought these years and years ago, at the 1976 General Convention, where we finally approved the ordination of women. I didn’t really know why I did, except that I knew I was meant to buy it and give it to somebody someday. I’ve held onto it all this time. Now I know that it was meant for you.”

Just recounting that story still brings tears to my eyes. Those of us who, mainly by virtue of when we were born, found ourselves in the vanguard of women (and this is not limited to women) in so many arenas—universities, trades and professions, politics and the arts—know the challenges and the costs of being the first, or one of the first, at almost anything. As we have learned from the Philadelphia 11 film and other sources, the challenges and personal cost for the first women ordained in The Episcopal Church were particularly painful, for spiritual wounds go deep. And yet, by the grace of God, they persevered.

[Image: The Philadelphia 11 are ordained on July 29, 1974, at the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia. Courtesy of Episcopal News Service]

I give thanks to God for calling these women to this prophetic vocation, for sending mentors and supporters, and for working through the struggle and confusion of the church to bring the voices of women—including mine—to altars and pulpits, to vestry meetings and church conventions, and to all of human life, from slums and battlefields to palaces and cathedrals, proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ. As we remember the example of the Philadelphia 11 and their allies, may God guide us to discern vocations in places and in people who have been marginalized, as we, the church, continue to grow to become in every respect the mature body of the one who is the head, that is, Christ.

BISHOP ANNE HODGES-COPPLE
In the summer of 1974, I was a rising senior in high school. It was a summer of fun with friends. We anticipated AP classes and colleges applications with anxiety. We prepared senior year activities with great expectations. There were few things from the “outside” world that penetrated “the Bubble,” as the school district was described. The impeachment of Richard Nixon and his resignation caught passing attention. The ordination of the Philadelphia 11 did not, I am embarrassed to say.

The rector of my local Episcopal church had made it perfectly clear to my confirmation class that women could NOT be considered for ordination to the priesthood. Nor women for the vestry or girls as acolytes. That was that! Did it bother me? Not in the way you might imagine. It just gave me the impression that the inner workings of church were quite divorced from the rest of life. And, therefore, not worth much of my energy. After all, I was busy campaigning for Sissy Farenthold who was running for Governor of Texas!

It was not until the summer of 1979 that I had the chance to attend a celebration of the Holy Eucharist with a woman priest as the celebrant. My mind was truly blown. I had been blind and now could see. Seeing truly was believing. I could see a possibility that turned into a vision that turned into a calling for which I am forever grateful. All thanks to the Philadelphia 11 who did the hard, painful, often lonely and discouraging work of opening doors and breaking barriers. They showed us grace under fire, courage against threats of harm and, above all, a willingness to make personal sacrifices for the generations of ordained women to come. Thanks be to God for these trailblazers who blessed the entire church and the world by their witness.

THE REV. MIRIAM SAXON
This spring when I watched the Philadelphia 11 documentary, I thought about what effect these brave women have had upon my own path toward ordination.

Fifty years ago, I was technically still a Presbyterian, the denomination in which I had been raised from childhood in Alabama. But in college I had been leaning toward the beauty of our Episcopal liturgy, and I became close to the Episcopal campus minister at Auburn University.

Then in 1974 my husband, John, and I moved to Washington, D.C. In the spring of 1975, we rented a basement apartment from Janet McCaa, who became a close friend. Janet was a lawyer for the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) and a member of the vestry at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church on Capitol Hill, just a few blocks from Janet’s row house. I began to attend Sunday services with Janet.

At that time, I did not know much about the national, or even diocesan-level, church, but in 1975 Janet was a lay member of the Ecclesiastical Court for the Diocese of Washington. In May 1975 Janet was the only woman serving on a five-person panel that heard the case against the Rev. William Wendt, the rector of St. Stephen and the Incarnation in D.C. Wendt was facing disciplinary charges for disobeying Bishop William Creighton’s demand that he not permit the Rev. Alison Cheek (one of the Philadelphia 11) to be the celebrant at any Eucharist in the Diocese of Washington, as that bishop opposed this “irregular ordination” of women.

The Ecclesiastical Court’s decision, on a 3-2 vote, found Wendt guilty but recommended that he only be admonished publicly for this act rather than being permanently prohibited from functioning as a priest. The three majority judges were all clergy; Janet and the other lay person voted to acquit. The two lay lawyers wrote a vigorous dissent in which they argued that “the eligibility of women for the priesthood is the only real issue.” Janet contended that Bishop Creighton’s admonition was based on an assumption that Cheek was merely a deacon, when in fact she was a validly ordained priest. In the dissent, Janet wrote that “bishops have no authority to prohibit a celebration by a priest, invited into a parish by its rector, and, thus, Father Wendt violated neither the canons nor his ordination vows, as charged.”

John and I had moved into Janet’s basement apartment the month after this trial, and I was fascinated by Janet’s stories about her strong support of these 11 brave women priests. As an active advocate for women’s rights during my college years, I was delighted to become friends with this young lawyer who spoke out in support of her church’s ordination of women. Janet’s stories became a significant factor in my own path, first to become an official Episcopalian, and then to become a priest myself. Through Janet McCaa, whom I deeply respected and admired, the ordination of women in 1974 became a guiding point in my ordination path.

[Image: On November 10, 1974, the Rev. Alison Cheek celebrated the Eucharist at St. Stephen’s and the Incarnation in Washington, D.C. Getty Images/The Washington Post. Used by permission.]

THE REV. STEPHANIE YANCY
When I was in elementary school, maybe fourth or fifth grade, our class had to write essays saying what we wanted to be when we grew up. Without any hesitation I wrote that I wanted to become a nun. When I look back now, I realize that what drove me to write that essay was the whisper of a call to the priesthood. Of course I didn’t recognize it at the time. My imagination could not stretch far enough for me to envision a woman at the altar, something I had never seen in real life. Even the acolytes lighting the altar candles were all male. Luckily for me, there were other little girls, about my age, with bigger imaginations than mine. Those little girls grew up to become the Philadelphia 11. It was not until I saw the recent documentary that I understood how much those women endured to change the church, but I have always been grateful for them. Their sacrifices made it possible for me to grow into the person I believe I was called to be. On a much larger level, by tearing down the barriers to women’s ordination, they have helped the church to live more fully into its call to be the body of Christ in the world. Thanks be to God for those courageous, faithful women.

THE REV. MICHELLE ROACH
I grew up on a small Caribbean island where church and priests were revered. Men dominated the early leadership of the church and were either white men from England or Black men who attended the local seminary. Women were allowed only to read the lessons and make announcements.

I was an adult when I first encountered a female priest. I remarked how wonderful it was to see a woman in the pulpit and received a response that it was “not for me.” And that was from another woman!

I honestly did not pay much attention to the plight of women clergy as I made my way through the ordination process. By that time, women made up half the clergy population on my small island. Many women were being ordained in the United States. However, we all experienced resistance on some level, as some still found it difficult to accept women clergy, especially a Black female priest.

As I think back on the Philadelphia 11 who fought and paved the way so that I, many years later, could stand in a pulpit, I am grateful to them. I am grateful for their bravery, tenacity and refusal to back down. I now stand on their shoulders and encourage all women to consider a call to ordained ministry. Because of the Philadelphia 11, they can answer that call if they hear it and experience for themselves the joy, inspiration, tears and messiness with a good dose of love, love from Jesus Christ and from his people.