by
Marie M. Henry
I was born in 1935 in Auburn, New York, the daughter of a Presbyterian
minister who later became well known. Dr. E.G. Montag was ordained in 1930.
He was a chaplain in the Navy in World War II, serving on a light cruiser,
the U.S.S. Denver, in the Pacific from May 1944 to the end of the war. After
the war he headed the western states region of the Restoration Fund,
$27,000,000 the Presbyterian Church was raising to re-build the churches
that had been bombed in World War II. In 1965 he ran for moderator of the
General Assembly and became the first executive director of Presbyterians
United for Biblical Concerns that same year.
My father was an excellent role model for me. On the other hand, my mother
had a nervous breakdown when she was 23. This left her permanently
frightened and emotionally blocked. She dealt with her inner demons by
becoming controlling to an extreme degree. She used me as an emotional
crutch; she and I were so fused and blended that I had virtually no
identity.
When my mother was diagnosed with colon cancer in 1955, I realized that she
was going to die. I looked around for a boyfriend/potential husband to
attach myself to. I had been conditioned to extreme dependency; it was all I
knew.
I graduated from the College of Wooster in l957 and taught history and art
for 3 years. In 1961 I married a brilliant but deeply disturbed man. We had
three children by 1965. I had been so over protected when I was growing up,
and was still terribly immature emotionally. I found myself living in a
derelict farmhouse with no central heating, no washer or dryer with an
infant, an 18 month old son, and a three year old daughter.
I was close to a breakdown when the Air Force sent my abusive husband to a
remote island in the Pacific, where wives and children were not allowed.
I descended on my sister, a teacher 7 years older. She took us into her
home. There, in a tiny cottage in the bay area of California, I struggled
with anger, grief and loss. My mother had programmed me to believe that
‘some nice man would take care of me” since she identified me as a weak,
dependent person.
It was there, in the San Jose area in June 1967 that I had a life-changing
spiritual experience. Although I was brought up in a devout home, I had no
real faith of my own. For some reason, I went to a mid-week service at the
Presbyterian Church in Los Gatos. At the end of his message, the guest
speaker gave an invitation to those who would like to come forward for
prayer and laying on of hands. I started to leave the sanctuary and then
something (Someone) drew me back. At the front of the large sanctuary were
maybe three rows of people. As several laid hands on me, I felt Jesus
speaking in my heart. He said that he loved with no strings attacheda
totally unconditional love. I felt the warmth of his love surrounding and
enfolding me.
This experience changed my life. I was at a real low point at the time. My
sister had urged me to divorce my abusive husband, but I didn’t feel I could
cope with being a single parent with three small children. My life was a
mess and I was doing a poor job as a mother.
The unconditional love of Christ that enfolded me that night in the church
gave me new hope and incentive.
I did go back to my husband for another year. He was stationed in Hawaii.
However, I had enough courage from my new found faith to get a master’s
degree from the University of Hawaii in history.
I hit a new low point in the fall of 1968, when I realized that separation
from my husband was inevitable both for my sake and the children’s. My
husband was making a salary of about $500/mo as a staff sergeant in the Air
Force. I was driving an old clunker from our rented house about 20 miles
outside Honolulu in order to get to the university. The old car broke down.
My husband replaced it with a motorcycle. My coordination is poor. The
motorcycle scared me to death, but I was determined to continue my master’s
degree program.
Very early one morning, I was riding the motorcycle toward Honolulu. The
highway was deserted. The bright sun burned down as I rode past acre after
acre of pineapple plantations. I felt overwhelmed. I knew I would have to
leave my husband, but my extreme dependence made coping as a single parent
seem impossible. I called out to the Lord in my desperation.
As I rode along, the following words came into my head:
Fear not, I am with thee; oh be not dismayed
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand. Upheld by
my righteous, omnipotent hand.
When through the deep water I cause thee to go.
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow.
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I’ll never, no never desert to his foes.
That soul tho’ all hell should endeavor to shake
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.
I could not recall where these words of comfort came from, but again, I felt
warmed and strengthened and protected by his love. It wasn’t until weeks
later that I discovered that these verses were the second, third, and fourth
stanzas of the hymn ‘How Firm a Foundation,” a hymn that I wasn’t really
familiar with.
My husband and I separated in January 1969. He went back to the mainland and
I stayed in Hawaii until August in order to finish my M.A.
I taught high school art and history in California for three years. The
first year was very hard because of my lack of adult coping skills. I
soldiered on one day at a time, hanging on tight to my faith in Christ.
From California my children and I moved to western New York where my Dad and
Step-mother had a retirement home. I failed to find a teaching job and was
doing a lot of complaining to the Lord about how much I needed a job to
support my children.
Finally, I mentioned to my Dad that I had thought of entering seminary and
preparing for the ministry. My Dad encouraged me to give it a try. We made
an appointment at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Within three weeks I had
been accepted, given a full tuition scholarship, and a three bedroom
apartment on campus. My Dad said he would pay the rent on the apartment,
which was only $100/mo in l972.
I started seminary going on faith, since I only had $150/mo child support to
live on. A month later, a millionaire I didn’t even know and never met until
after I graduated, set aside an endowment fund for my education at the
seminary. I felt that God was definitely calling me to study for the
ministry.
I was a ministerial candidate from my father’s old church in Beaver,
Pennsylvania. In fact, I was the first woman to go through the ministerial
process in Beaver-Butler Presbytery and the second woman to be ordained in
Beaver Butler Presbytery. One of my classmates was ordained three weeks
before I was.
During my second year in seminary I married again. My second husband, Tom
Henry was ill with repeated attacks of grand mal epilepsy, but continued to
work as a guidance counselor at the School of General Studies of the
University of Pittsburgh. With spiritual help and a change in diet, his
seizures lessened and finally ceased altogether for 6 years.
I had what for me was a funny experience as I was going through trials for
ordination in 1976. Beaver-Butler is one of the most conservative
presbyteries in the denomination. At that time, the issue of ordination of
women was still a hot button issue. Ken Hall was the chairman of Candidates
Committee for the presbytery and later became Moderator of the General
Assembly. Ken said that some of the anti-women’s ordination men were laying
in wait for me and that if any impertinent questions were asked after I read
my statement of faith, he wanted me to sit down and let him handle them. I
objected that a woman who had to have a man covering for her was not a good
message to send. He replied that they didn’t want their women candidates
harassed, especially since I was the first one.
So I got up at the presbytery meeting and read my statement of faith. Then
the questioning began. Right away, a man in the third row stood up and said,
‘If you are such an impressive Biblical scholar, how can you justify being a
woman entering the ministry?” I thought the whole thing was kind of funny,
but Ken Hall was not amused. He motioned for me to sit down and then
proceeded to give the questioner a terrible tongue lashing.
I graduated from seminary magna cum laude in l976 and was ordained in the
First Presbyterian Church in Beaver, PA.the church my Dad has served in for
17 years. Beaver-Butler Presbytery arranged it so that my father was given
permission to ask me the ordination questions. Perhaps I was the first woman
minister to be ordained by her father.
My first parish was in Redstone Presbytery southeast of Pittsburgh. At that
time there were 90 some ministers in Redstone. I was the only woman. There
were about 370 women ministers in the whole denomination when I was ordained
in October, l976. A few men gave me a hard time, but, as I said, I thought
it was mildly comical. I was in the ministry because I believed that God had
called me to it, not because I wanted to prove that a woman could do it. I
served in a mission parish with six little churches for 6 years. I worked
only half time since I had 3 teenagers at home.
I also was under contract to write the authorized biography of the famous
Quaker feminist and author of the Christian Classic, The Christian’s Secret
of a Happy Life. Hannah Whitall Smith was a role model for Catherine
Marshall. Catherine and I corresponded and the result was that I went to
Oxford, England in January 1982 to do primary research in the home of
Hannah’s great-grandaughter. She allowed me to Xerox 875 pages of letters
that Hannah had written. I came back to the Pittsburgh area with the copied
letters that formed the basis for my book. Chosen Books published it in
l984. Bethany Publishers re-published it in l993.
During this time I developed rheumatoid arthritis. In addition, my husband
and I separated. I was very hurt, angry, and scared. Too sick to work I left
Pennsylvania and moved to California. Through prayer and the help of a
devout Christian friend, I found a doctor who soon had the rheumatoid
arthritis more or less in remission.
Coming back to the San Jose area I began to try to get funding from various
churches to start an interdenominational nursing home ministry. I had done
some research among the approximately 65 nursing homes in the area and had
discovered that the protestant patients had no systematic spiritual care.
Later, I found out that 70% of the patients received no visitation
whatsoever. They were brought into the convalescent hospitals and were
simply left there to die. I believed God was leading me to try to get these
poor souls some spiritual care and consolation. I am not a person with
administrative or business skills, but the Lord soon furnished me with
co-workers who did have these skills. We did the paperwork necessary to
become a non-profit corporation with a board of directors. The ministry
began in 1984 with a budget of $2000. I was visiting 4 nursing homes. By the
summer of 1988, when I left for health reasons, we were supported by
approximately 22 churches. I regularly taught classes to train volunteers. I
served communion monthly in twelve nursing homes. Our budget was over
$15,000 a year, most of which went to pay my time salary. The ministry
continues today, greatly expanded, and is now in its 18th year.
I have not been active in the ministry since August, 1988, . Rheumatoid
arthritis is a destructive disease. It has taken its toll. However, my
children, now in their late 30’s are all married and I have 13
grandchildren! I am so grateful to God for taking more or less a useless
life and enhancing it with his grace and glory. May his name be forever
praised!