Our first day took us to Knoxville, Tennessee, to drop off my grandmother, who had come up to Virginia for my ordination. We spent the night there with my mother's family. I tried to work on my sermon for this Sunday while my family members talked to me, and I showed them all the wonderful pictures my brother had taken at the ordination. Then, the following day, we took off. Our first stop was St. Louis, Missouri, and the route was: I-40 West to Nashville, pick up I-24 West to the end, take I-57 North, and pick up I-64 West into St. Louis. Traveling down I-40 to Nashville brought back many memories of going to Crossville, where my grandmother still lives, and then to Nashville, where my other grandparents lived before they passed away. Familiar exits off of the highway were recognized, and I shook my head in disbelief that signs at Briley Parkway directing the driver to Opryland were still there, despite the fact that Opryland has not existed for many years now. Another childhood memory destroyed by commercialism: Opry Mills, a shopping center, now exists in place of the amusement park my grandparents took us to every summer when we were children. As we got onto I-24, I remembered having taken that highway from St. Louis down to Nashville to visit my grandparents after I found out my grandfather had been diagnosed with AML leukemia in 2004. And finally, taking I-64 into St. Louis reminded me of all of the times I had driven that route when I lived there for two years, attending Concordia Seminary.
It was interesting being back in St. Louis again, thinking about how my journey that eventually led to ordination began in a church body that does not ordain women. We met a good friend of mine for dinner that evening. She told me that when I had called to let her know that we had arrived and to make arrangements for us to meet up for dinner, that when she got off the phone she said to a professor who was standing there that she had spoken with "Pastor Tonya". This professor, whom I had had for a class when I was at the seminary, reportedly said, "Don't call her that." Newly ordained for just a few days, my call is not recognized as valid by this particular professor/pastor and probably by many more within the LCMS. I have always said that I have no problems if someone's conscience and interpretation of the Bible does not allow for the ordination of women, and this is still true. But I do have a problem when the person is going to be obnoxious about it and not even recognize me as an ordained minister. So to this particular professor and ordained minister, I wish to say the following: I have followed God's call upon my life as I have understood it. To leave the LCMS was not a decision I made easily, but in the end, I did make it. To do otherwise would have been to go against God's calling upon my life, which is not a good thing to do. I understand that you have a problem with women as ordained pastors, and I respect that. But at least be respectful, and do not tell others who may disagree with your viewpoint not to call me a pastor.
The journey through the past continued today as we followed the route through Missouri, Iowa, and into South Dakota that my mother and I had taken at the beginning of my trip up to Alaska. Vague memories of that first day came to the fore, especially as I remembered bringing my dog Kolya with me. My mother and I laughed as we passed the hotel where we had stayed the first night. Tomorrow our journey continues, and we will be traveling the route, in reverse, that my mother and I took back from Alaska: crossing South Dakota into Wyoming. This time we are very glad to not have the Sturgis Harley-Davidson rally to contend with, and we are very excited to show my father some of the interesting sights we saw: the Badlands and Mount Rushmore. And so, the journey continues.
