When I was an M.Div. student back in the mid-90s, people would always ask me if I wanted to be ordained. At the time, I was at a conservative evangelical seminary that did not support women’s ordination but allowed women to study in its programs. I felt deeply called to some kind of vocational ministry and wanted to be trained, but I had no desire to be an ordained minister. I would always respond the same way. “Women don’t need to be ordained to do ministry. Plus, Rev. Christine Kim (my maiden name) sounds like MISTER Christine Kim to me!” Growing up in a Korean immigrant church in the 70s and 80s, I only ever saw male pastors. It didn't feel right for me to be a pastor, as though it went against the natural order of things. In my mind, a reverend is a man. I am not a man. Therefore, I should not be a reverend.

In 2002, I entered the Episcopal Church through marriage (I really didn’t like it, but that is another story!). It was the first time I ever had a woman priest. As I got more involved, as these things go, eventually the rector sidled up to me one day and asked, “Would you ever consider going through discernment for the priesthood?” And the rest, as they say, is history.

Well, sort of. After I went through the parish discernment process, my committee said, “Christine, we want to recommend you to the bishop for ordination, but you don’t seem like you want to do this.” I did not. I just could not envision myself as an ordained priest. As a pastor’s kid, my idea of what it meant to be a pastor was my father. His church members are in the thousands. He writes books. He’s the guy the president of South Korea would call to speak at the national prayer breakfast. He had his own TV show for many years before he retired. That’s not me.

I’ll always remember Bob, one of my committee members saying, “Christine, being a priest is not about being exactly like your dad. Being a priest is about creating space for people to encounter the living God. You will do that in your own way, with who you are, and the gifts God has given you.” That resonated with me deeply. But I still didn’t want to do it!\

So, I went to work for Habitat for Humanity NYC. And guess who I kept running into? Female Episcopal priests! In so many shapes and sizes. I never saw clergy like this. I was in awe of them. The Rev. Theodora Brooks (GTS 2000) from St. Margaret’s in the Bronx with her prophetic boldness, hilarity and warmth, The Rev. Maria Santaviago from San Juan Bautista with her big heart and creativity. As a priest in the zip code that held the record     for highest rate of HIV/AIDS in the country, she began incorporating HIV testing into worship services and always went first. The Rev. Carol Anderson (GTS D.D. 2013), one of the first women ordained in the Episcopal Church who so graciously took me under her wing in her retirement. There were many others, each one so spiritually powerful in their own unique and disarming way. And something began to open up in me. If they were “Revs,” maybe I could be one too.

I entered General for my Anglican year in the fall of 2010. The last time I’d been in seminary, as one of the only women in the M.Div. program, I was clearly outnumbered. I always walked into class feeling conspicuous and out of place. I remember feeling an inner pressure to tamp down my femininity, to not doing anything that might draw attention to myself as a woman, at one point chopping off my long hair for a boy cut (which looked terrible). At General, I don’t even recall any conversations about “women in ordained ministry.” It just was. It was assumed. It was part of the air.

I will be forever grateful to General for creating space for me to take my first steps towards ordination to the priesthood. There are times when I think to myself, “How on earth did I get here?” And then I remember. It was a conversation. It was a connection with someone. It was walking through those black gates onto the Close for the first time

And the rest, as they say, is history.