PeaceBang
The manic mind of the minister -- Auntie Mame Meets Cotton Mather. Blogging about Unitarian Universalism, UU Christian spiritual practice, occasional cultural and political ravings, and the inner life of ministry. PeaceBang is the alter ego of a small town pastor serving an historic New England Unitarian Universalist congregation.
Women Ministers: Issues in Leading Worship
August 27, 2007 on 11:03 pm | In Greatest Hits, Liturgy |I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the different preaching and presiding styles of the ministers and laypeople I’ve shared worship with these past two summers (during which I’ve averaged 1.5 worship services per Sunday, thankyouverymuch!). I’ve been looking over my notes and conclude that women presiders still have some special issues of vocal and physical inflection that seem not to plague men nearly as often.
I’d like to speak to some of them right now in my typically unvarnished way that comes from love and the instinct of a stage mother. I want women ministers to be just as impressive in the pulpit as our male colleagues, but I think we need work in a few main areas.
Vocal Inflections That Undermine Our Message
1. “Babydoll” Voice
When I meet women preachers “off stage,” I am often amazed at how much more grounded, in-charge, warm and confident they sound than they do while presiding. In the pulpit, I am hearing a lot of “baby doll” voices — a strained, nasal tone that comes from tight vocal chords and over-feminization of inflection (lisping is pronounced here, too). The difference is subtle to the ear but the result is infantilizing to both preacher and congregation sharing worship. For women preahcers speaking in Babydoll mode, I get the strong impression that she is presenting as “beloved daughter” rather than leader, and seems unconsciously to be seeking approval for her message.
Women preachers have to be careful because our pitch tends to rise when we get nervous. When we lose our diaphragmatic breathing, we produce a far more nasal sound and can even begin to whine. These are all challenges that can be overcome with vocal coaching.
I should mention here that the preacher who suffers from “babydoll voice” often compounds the problem by the use of physical tics such as flipping hair, flouncing shoulders, relying on the use of an inappropriately flirtatious smile or fluttering eyelashes. I am left with the impression that this is a woman who is not confident of her message and therefore needs to curry favor with the congregation by being adorable.
It might be useful for women clergy with these habits to practice preaching for a coach or friends with total lack of facial expression, using only her voice to communicate the strength and power of her message. Bad habits are hard to break and can require a lot of courage. We need to support each other in this work.
2. “Schoolmarm Voice”
As preachers, we are indeed teachers, but I am concerned that too many women ministers (and religious educators) take that role to heart in the way they present sermons and stories. We must guard against sing-songy cadences that insult the intelligence of our listeners and distract from the impact of our message. The schoolmarm cadence often comes with an attendant straining of the neck, tilting of the head, pursing of the lips and excessive blinking. These are all very ordinary tics and can be avoided by viewing ourselves on video and working to calm the nerves, connect with our congregation, and focus on the MEANING of what we are saying.
In fact, the biggest problem I am seeing with both female and male pastors is a sense of total disconnection between body, voice and message. Words are coming out, but no one’s home! The most emotionally and spiritually powerful worship services I have attended in the past years always happen when the liturgists embody their message from an authentic and present place. This isn’t necessarily a natural skill; some of us really have to work on it, and we should!
Preachers, readers, prayers: slow down! What are you SAYING!!? Do you BELIEVE IT? How is your life being changed by the message you’re sharing? These are NOT JUST WORDS.
When we get into schoolmarm mode, we also have a tendency to over-explain and over-instruct every aspect of the liturgy. Sometimes a hand gesture is worth a thousand confusing words.
3. “I Don’t Deserve To Be Up Here” Voice
This has been more of an issue with lay participants in than with ordained religious leaders in worship services I have attended, but I have seen it far too often in past years. Preachers, please WORK WITH YOUR LAY LITURGISTS and teach them how to project, how to use the microphone effectively, and how to CLAIM the pulpit or podium!!
I can’t count how many times I have been deprived of prayer or the reading of the gospel by lay or ordained readers who are apparently so unconfident, so out-of-breath or so casual as to mumble or murmur their way through their parts. This is a travesty of inclusion: if I have perfectly fine hearing and am still straining to hear, what kind of experience are our elders or hearing-impaired guests having?
For God’s sake… speak up! Pastors, it is commendable to share the pulpit with the laity but it is not commendable to leave them to fend for themselves up there. We all need training and orientation in order to meet the obligations of leading worship. Don’t fail to meet this responsibility due to some misguided sense of the priesthood of all believers. We’re not all natural talents; in fact, very few of us are.
Other Issues
4. Liturgy of the Living Dead
I’ve seen men suffer from this, but more so women. This is the strange and sad phenomenon of the woman preacher who is so unanimated and colorless as to seem vaguely shocked by the fact that she’s in front of a congregation at all. She seems to be sleepwalking through the liturgy completely disconnected from the proceedings. I consider this a subset of the “I Don’t Deserve To Be Up Here” issue.
Not every minister has to be a charismatic extrovert. I am often tremendously relieved when I meet ministers who have a zombie-like presiding style and find that they’re lovely, warm pastors who seem eminently comfortable with themselves and their roles as religious leaders. I think the issue of passive, expressionless and somnabulistic worship style is a matter of training and awareness: somewhere along the line, they never got fair feedback. They should. They very likely have no idea how they are coming across, and complaining behind their back is neither helpful to them or healthy for the Church. Speak up, dearly beloved. Coaching and training can help.
5. “Aunt Clara In the Pulpit”
This is the messy, scattershot female minister (I’ve seen guys do it, too) who hasn’t got the liturgical flow down and relies on an endearing, apologetic style to get her through Sunday morning. She skips elements of the liturgy by accident, her ponytail is falling down, and she looks like a nervous wreck during the Offering. She retreats way in the back of the chancel during hymn singing hoping that no one will notice that she hasn’t the vaguest sense of the tunes, and she muffs the benediction and laughs. She’s a sympathetic, real character… but way too real. To this gal we say: Hey lady, this is less cute than you think. Every time you charmingly mess up, you distract the congregation, shifting the focus from God to yourself. There’s no shame in rehearsing the whole thing a few times on Saturday night.
And to all of you: please don’t EVER, EVER apologize for what you do during worship. NEVER apologize for your sermon in advance. NEVER reveal that you feel less than stellar about the way that christening just went. NEVER put yourself down in the pulpit. It is distracting, ego-centric and wildly inappropriate. Don’t apologize: work harder. There is no excuse for us not knowing what we’re doing up there. Our mistakes should be minimal and when they do happen, they should pass by uncommented upon. This is not about us.
6. “Another Sermon About Shoe Shopping”
This is my joke code name for sermons or homilies by female pastors that head right into Oprah territory and never leave. While I am a strong believer in lifting up the sacred nature of woman’s work and women’s lives, I think we have to be careful to include a wider variety of examples and illustrations in our sermons than we are wont to do. I’m sorry, but I have NEVER heard a male pastor preach on dieting, while I’ve heard women do so three times in the past two years. Is this really the deepest we can go? I think we unconsciously reinforce sexism when we preach light-weight homilies that reinscribe traditional gender roles and make it seem as though all of our deepest concerns come connected to our ovaries. Gals, you’ll yell at me for saying it, but I think we really need to work on this.
7. Terminal Niceness: Walking On Eggshells With the Scriptures
It always depresses me when lay or ordained leaders give the Scripture readings with the same intonation they’d use reading a Hallmark card. People, we’re talking about the living God here! The Psalms should not sound like a recipe for brownies! Selections from Jeremiah or Romans should not leave me nodding into my bulletin!! Please — and women, we’re worse offenders than men in this wise — bring some passion and INTENTION to the Bible stories!! Paraphrase if you have to, bring it alive, TELL it! GIVE it! If people are placidly fanning themselves during the telling of the story of the Gerasene demoniac, there’s definitely something wrong. If you’re recounting the story of Job and you don’t see any change of expression out in the congregation, you’ve not doing your job.
I’m not saying to over-do it and ham it up, but monotonal, barely audible, rushed or sing-songy renditions that make it impossible to connect to the story are a serious liturgical failure. If we wonder why people aren’t interested in the Bible anymore, it may be because we’re doing such a crummy job of sharing it in worship.
I attended a church service three summers ago where a lay leader rushed up to the lectern to give the Old Testament reading, chortling and chatting as she set up the light and turned the pages of the Bible. It seems that she had almost forgotten that it was her turn to give the lesson and she had just returned from vacation the night before, and if she hadn’t had a call from Priscilla on the Worship Committee she just didn’t know that she would have even come to church at all…and oh! here’s the reading!
She then sped through some harrowing section from the Book of Daniel in the most off-hand possible tone, tilting her head and barely pausing at the ends of phrases as though she was entirely embarrassed and couldn’t wait to be done with the thing. She then gave a little giggle and shrugged and cringed her way back to her pew.
Someone was responsible for that little performance, and it was you and me, pastors.
Men have their own particular ways of obscuring their messages and messing up liturgy (ridiculously bombastic tones, cutesy twinkly-grandfather routines, distractingly folksy “I shore hope ya’ll like me” cadences, stiff, emotionless delivery, condescending or controlling messages — to name a few), but I’m talking to my reverend gal pals here.
Before you start romping on me in the comments like those gorillas romp on the suitcases in the old Samsonite commercials, just remember that I am speaking from my own personal experience in Christian and Unitarian Universalist congregations in five states and two countries.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about and every woman minister you’ve ever known has had tremendous gravitas and wonderful presence in the pulpit, I’m thrilled to hear it.
As far as my own sins and failings as a worship leader, I promise I got plenty of ‘em. I take my own development as a liturgist and preacher seriously, I attend continuing education and listen to myself on podcast, taking critical notes all the while. I groan with horror watching myself on video, and keep working to get better. I rehearse every ritual at which I preside — getting up and walking it through in the church or in my home. I try like the dickens to prepare every speaker and participant in our worship services, trying to strike an acceptable balance between my high expectations and respect for the time and talents of volunteers. I ain’t writing this as an expert (or even as a professor of worship, which I am) — just a woman who loves the Church and believes we would all benefit from deeper awareness of what we are bringing to the worshiping community.
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Right on, dudette.
XO
Gravitas Girl
Comment by Jane R — August 27, 2007 #
SPEAK IT, Mah sistah!
On voice: You do not have to be stuck with the voice you were born with. You can actually, point of fact, change your voice. Perfect example: Kathleen Turner. That deep dark voice was created. She has said in interviews that she practice-practice-practiced it, til it was low and full.
This is such a good point for all women, not just those in the pulpit. Young women, practice using a low, measured voice. Cardinal Sin: Going up at the end of your sentences? So that even statements of fact sounds like questions?
Project authority. Project confidence. Or for goodness’s sake, at least PROJECT.
Comment by Lizard Eater — August 27, 2007 #
Since you are a stage mom PB :), I’m surprised you didn’t recommend voice lessons.
As someone who was in choirs for years, the best thing that ever happened to me was voice lessons. Every once in a while I’ll slip up and do something I shouldn’t, but by-and-large I remember what I was taught.
Plus, I think every minister should think about taking an acting or drama class; they help too.
Comment by Kim Hampton — August 28, 2007 #
One of the best things I ever did to help my preaching voice was to take voice lessons for a semester while I was in divinity school. My minister of music was gracious enough to give me the lessons for free. What a difference! I have a soft voice, but after the lessons, none of the older adults had to strain to hear me anymore. A lot of it is breathing. A lot of it is confidence.
And every Sunday, I am singing my scales before church because you have to practice it, too.
Comment by A.Lin — August 28, 2007 #
In addition to apologies, I really dislike it when someone apologizes before they lead song or chant.
“I’m not the best singer…”
I always say in my head “Just put it out there, give it your best, we all understand that your not a professional singer already!”
Comment by Jamie Goodwin — August 28, 2007 #
Definitely on the voice! I took acting classes for this very reason. (It counts as continuing ed. Try it! WAY fun!) I became more comfortable with my body, more aware of my gestures and presentation, and better at using my voice.
Of course, I still dream of Ron Perlman having a religious awakening and going into the clergy- THAT is a voice I could sit and listen to a sermon from!
Comment by Rev. Bee — August 28, 2007 #
AMEN! I have really struggled with this, as I have a naturally strong appalachian accent that has been a challenge to work with. I love my accent, and it is a part of me, but I find it distracting.
I’ve learned to enunciate and to project, but I still struggle with the authority thing, particularly when preaching. I think this comes from growing up in a church that preached that women should preach–that’s a lot to overcome, and I’m still working on it. (what sort of continuing ed do you do, anyway, that provides help in this area? I’d love to see more women preach and celebrate, but we are spread sort of thinly in my area).
The first sermon I preached in my sponsoring parish, one of the matriarchs told me “great sermon–but I’m going to buy you a barette”! Lesson learned on the veronica lake hair
Comment by Madgebaby — August 28, 2007 #
Amen and amen.
Boy, I was not a big fan of reviewing my preaching videos in seminary. But I know I need to do it again.
On voices going up at the end of sentences - there is a rich middle ground between dropping the last vowels of a sentence and sounding like everything is a question. As you said, LE, practice, practice, practice.
Having seen a couple of preaching texts recently that would be impossible to read from the pulpit, there is much to be said for formatting the text, if one has one, to help create that energy and structure. This is one area where we need not be shy about using all the paper we need for big font, wide spacing, and nothing printed below a quick glance at the page.
PB, I think this entry could be the beginning of another book.
Comment by jinnis — August 28, 2007 #
Thank you for this. It should be REQUIRED reading for all pastors–with a test on it afterwards.
Comment by Quotidian Grace — August 28, 2007 #
As a lay person I love what you are saying, but how do you not have your voice just shake. I feel all confident and then I get up there and my voice is like a shaky mess. I hate it… oh to have the confidence to speak.
Comment by jacqueline — August 28, 2007 #
I really appreciate the “dont comment on mistakes” note. I would add, “keep your process to yourself.” I had a pastor for a while who started many of her sermons by telling us how hard the sermon was to write, how much she hated the text, etc and it quite offputting. You can make the sermon a path on which congregants travel from not-understanding to understanding without taking them on YOUR journey.
Also, re listening to tapes or whatever of sermons: I’ve been surprised to learn how many pastors do not use this valuable resource, or who say that it would be too embarrassing to listen to themselves! (And yet you continue to inflict that embarrassing self on others week after week…)
Comment by juniper — August 28, 2007 #
OK. But what do you appreciate about women ministers?
Comment by KRS — August 28, 2007 #
What about the diffuse, passing for (or stereotyping a) deeply spiritual expression of ministry? Men can and have done it, but I’ve seen it more from women.
I’ve come to call it the Quaalude School of Ministry, and when I see a Mary Oliver or Maya Angelou reading in the docket I have to steel myself.
Y’all know what I mean?
Comment by Scott (Boy in the Bands) — August 28, 2007 #
Ill-prepared lay leadership is my pet peeve. In my old UU church, we had an excellent Worship Associate program and we practiced. Our minister gave us classes on using the microphone, lighting the chalice, extinguishing the chalice, walking up to the podium. Even if it takes one many tries to get the voice and inflection right, it is easy to learn the mechanics of walking up front with dignity.
In my experience, the lay men are worse than the lay women, but I agree that the women ministers tend to be less commanding than the men.
If you train yourself to change just one habit this year, STOP TOUCHING YOUR HAIR!
Comment by Louise — August 28, 2007 #
@ Jacqueline: shaky voices are all about the breath. You can absolutely get training to help you deal with it. While most of us never totally overcome insecurity and stage fright, voice teachers can do us a world of good in training us how to use our instrument. It’s a wonderful thing to learn!
Comment by PeaceBang — August 28, 2007 #
As much as it terrifies me, I love public speaking. You’re so right about the apologies thing (that’s what I tend to do), but I’m surprised that so many women have a problem with the voice. That’s something that can totally be fixed with just a little attention and time.
Also, can I add: USE THE MIC. It really bugs me that people think that they don’t need the mic when they DO need the mic. “Oh, I hate using the mic.” Who cares?!?! It’s not about you, and there’s big old trucks rolling down the street outside and we CANT HEAR YOU. Whew. That was my vent for the day.
Nice post, PB.
Comment by h sofia — August 28, 2007 #
Learning to project and having strategies for managing the voice are things that are easy to learn and get lessons in — though I agree that too few of us do.
The thing that has helped me most with preaching and presence and worship leadership the most, which no one really taught or spoke of (maybe because of being UU, maybe it was assumed and I was too dense to get it, probably the latter) is the need to EMBODY the message. What am I proclaiming, what good news do I have to share, and how passionate am I about letting people know that it’s FOR THEM? When I can really stand deep in that place, I am connected with the congregation in a way that means if I miss a whole paragraph in my carefully-crafted sermon manuscript it just doesn’t matter, because they’re getting it from ALL that I’m bringing.
Sometimes people can get by with just technical skill and not bringing it with who they are, but usually not. I can feel the difference, and I think the apology and meekness comes less from lack of technical training than lack of spiritual presence. When I’m not present in that way and aware of my proclamation, I falter even with the skills I know. When I’m there, though, I get the best feedback even with a sermon that looks mediocre on the page.
Comment by Pastor P — August 28, 2007 #
Thanks again, PeaceBang!
The women in the pulpit and in other leadership roles need to read your words and commit them to heart.
The way I learned it, “In order to be considered, you have to be heard. Give your listeners something to hear that they cannot ignore and will treasure forever.” So said my junior high Latin teacher who coached me in oral interpretation. Her words stuck with me. Good to know that her wisdom still holds.
Well said!
Comment by Regina — August 28, 2007 #
You make some solid comments here, PB. There is a message for all, male or female in your words.
I recall a priest who would preface almost all of his daily mass homilies with a “well, today was a busy day, I didn’t get a chance to study the readings very much, so…” and he would proceed to give an endless, rambling homily each and every time. NEWSFLASH: if you didn’t have time to really look at the readings, do not advertise this fact, and please, keep your comments SHORT!!
In fact, not to hijack the conversation, but what do people think of that whole issue, sermon length? I am a big believer that as attention spans get shorter and shorter, we simply cannot afford to think as long as a sermon is well crafted, researched, etc., that length doesn’t matter….I think it matters very much, and a shorter sermon with one clear, concise, well delivered message is worth much more than a lengthy sermon that contains multiple messages, no matter how well crafted.
What say you?
Comment by tom — August 29, 2007 #
You really ought to do a sideline gig as a life coach, PB–I don’t know what the training is to do that officially, but I would totally pay you the going rate to watch me preach and preside and give me the honest truth about my presentation.
Comment by Madgebaby — August 29, 2007 #
Sorry about the near dupicate comment–I thought the first one got erased.
Comment by Madgebaby — August 29, 2007 #
Tom,
This reminds me, of something else. It’s common in US design and decorating to add things for effect, whereas in Japan one would take something away. As people who think more is more, I’d think in our culture - short attention spans notwithstanding - we have a hard time editing ourselves. We’ll cut someone else off pretty easily, but we tend to believe in embellishment.
And I forget his name, but there was a famous writer who, in a letter to a friend, wrote something to the effect of, “I’m sorry this letter is so long, but I’m in a hurry.”
I think the consensus among writers is that it takes longer or at least more effort to distill thoughts and information into something short and concise. I know in the article I wrote for UU World, I was SO HAPPY to have Chris edit that. It was overwhelming and he kept it on point.
Comment by h sofia — August 29, 2007 #
Since you mention the offenses of lay leaders, can you or any readers comment on how an entirely lay-led fellowship can gently and tactfully, shall we say, separate the wheat from the chaff? It’s a struggle to fill a schedule of services with high-quality leaders, and I cringe to think that someone’s first visit with us will be their last because of a bungled service.
Comment by Frog Princess — August 29, 2007 #
This should be required reading for anyone who is in seminary or beginning their journey in the clergy. I am taking voice lessons, and with proper breathing it is becoming easier singing the mass and reading the lesson.
Thank You
Comment by Andrea — August 29, 2007 #
@Frog Princess: That’s a sensitive issue but I think you might address it from the place of “differing gifts.” We’re not all good at everything. Can your congregation identify a few people who give consistently meaningful and well-done worship services and empower them to schedule worship leaders, helping less able people find another role on Sunday mornings?
This is a pastoral issue and an evangelical issue in direct conflict. The only way to solve the conflict is to outright decide what you as a group care more about: providing quality worship or giving everyone the sense that all are equally able to lead quality worship. Since the second option is patently false (the plain reality is that all are NOT equally able to lead quality worship), I might more honestly rephrase it as:
Do we want to provide quality worship, or do we want to avoid hurting people’s feelings?
Of course part of the problem is that Unitarian Universalists are lothe to admit that there IS such a thing as quality worship, preferring to lift up the value of everyone feeling equal. I do wish we were better at the art of communal discernment and helping people find their strengths rather than insisting that everyone should have the right to take on leadership wherever and however they want.
Comment by PeaceBang — August 29, 2007 #
Great topic, PeaceBang, and one that a lot of people clearly resonate with.
The most memorable conversation from my preaching class at Starr King (other than the professor threatening to hit me with a pie) was the point that Lizard Eater and jinnis raise. It was surprising that otherwise strong, confident female classmates undercut their message by ending each sentence as it it were a question. They were also surprised that they were doing it, which is one of the gifts of rehearsing our preaching with one another, and learning how others hear us.
We men have our own pitfalls in speaking, of course, but I think that the pitfalls women often face are loaded with so much cultural baggage, as unfair as it is. Projecting warmth without being flirtatious, or childlike, or wispy, is just damned HARD for some ministers, and complicates an already challenging power dynamic with the congregation.
It was a valuable lesson for me to watch my female classmates struggle with this, and I took it to heart in my own preaching. When I was newer to ministry, I would practice by speaking each sentence and STOPPING. Having to listen to each statement hang out there in silence for a moment was agonizing, but it forced me to end them with an ENDING, neither lilting up at the end, or rushing them into the next sentence. Of course, I didn’t exaggerate this when I actually preached it, but I know that it makes my sermons easier for listeners to follow, and it puts more confidence into what I say. Eventually, preaching as if you have confidence turns into genuine confidence, too!
And, PB, I’m so glad that you addressed the issue of apologizing for our words — my God, what a self-destructive behavior! Let’s just start the service by telling everyone that they might as well stay home!
But I want to throw out a question/challenge to my sisters in ministry. What’s your take on sermon structure? When I hear colleagues questioned about their rambling, directionless sermons, a response I’ve heard from a few female ministers is, “oh, that’s just my preaching style; women use a different model, you know.” I was reminded of this not long ago, when I heard a dear female colleague preaching, and I thought the sermon had reached its ending four or five times. I appreciate the point that we may have different tendencies in our sermon structures, but do you see basic standards that we all might follow?
Again, great topic, PB… thanks!
Comment by Scott Gerard Prinster — August 30, 2007 #
Frog Princess, in the Southwest UU Conference here, at district events, we have a minister who routinely offers workshops on preaching for lay leaders. Might see if some could do that as their mission in your area. Another possibility.
Comment by Ron Robinson — August 31, 2007 #
Yes, yes yes! This is good stuff, and so important. It’s true that we do not all have the same gifts, but a little coaching can go a long way even with someone who has no particular gift for public speaking. I have a master’s degree in what I like to call “reading out loud,” and another in theology, and though life has led me far astray from using both of these degrees, I’m inspired by this posting to try to put both to use perhaps simultaneously. Voice lessons are good; acting classes are good, and there is also this other discipline I studied that was once called “oral interpretation of literature,” or “speech,” and in some places it is now called “performance studies.” Those of us who have studied this discipline practice the art of embodying the text: i.e., taking the words inside of us, moving them through mind and heart, and speaking them authentically and effectively. I think there are speech coaches who can teach this in many places throughout the U.S. Learning awareness of body, voice, projection, authentic engagement with the text, can be a deepening personal experience as well as a relief to congregations and other audiences.
Comment by Susan — September 2, 2007 #