RALEIGH -- The Rev. Nancy Petty keeps two boxes of personal letters in an office cabinet. On top of them is another thick stack, the newest letters, bundled with a rubber band. Petty wants them within easy reach so she can take renewed comfort in their words.
"I believe God in his gracious wisdom has been preparing you for this role," reads one.
"Your leadership lately has made me think of the challenges in my own career and how I can straighten up with courage and love to meet them," wrote another.
These latest letters arrived after the 200-26 vote in which members of Pullen Memorial Baptist Church affirmed Petty as senior pastor early last month.
At 46, Petty leads one of the city's most activist churches, a congregation known across the country for pushing the envelope on social issues such as racial integration, the war in Vietnam and women's rights. Former Pastor W.W. "Bill" Finlator became a household name in the 1960s and 1970s for his outspoken, some would say, fearless positions on issues.
Now the church, at Hillsborough and Cox streets, has transferred the mantle of leadership to a lesbian. Petty had been co-pastor since 2002, but she shared the post with the Rev. Jack McKinney, who remained for the most part the public face of the church, using the bully pulpit to rally for change in support of issues such as same-sex marriage.
When McKinney retired late last year, the deacons asked Petty what she wanted to do. Petty, who has served in the congregation for 18 years, wasted no time. She knew she wanted to be Pullen's senior pastor. But she would have to convince people that she was up to the role.
In a letter the 700 church members, she said: "My commitment to continuing Pullen's prophetic role in the world, to being a light bearer for justice and peace, to welcoming the stranger, and to discerning God's hopeful word for our times with authenticity and integrity, is stronger than ever."
But some knew her mostly for her work one-on-one with church members, her assistance to people in crisis or her management of internal church issues. Could she also challenge the congregation on social issues and preach forcefully on her convictions?
Advocating diversity
Over the past six months, she has taken her first steps. In January, she wrote an opinion piece in the News & Observer calling on Wake County residents to unite in opposition to their school board's plan to dismantle the district's diversity policy regarding student assignments. "We must not fool ourselves by thinking that the issues at hand are not issues of race, economic status, privilege and power," she wrote. "These are the issues at stake."
In February, she invited NAACP leaders and other clergy to a breakfast at Pullen. She has stepped up relations with Martin Street Baptist, which has a predominantly black congregation, and encouraged members to engage with Jews and Muslims to work for peace. In August, she will preach at Temple Beth Or.
"I'm not a Bill Finlator," Petty said. "I'm not a Jack McKinney. I'm Nancy Petty. ... If I'm true to that, I will carry on the tradition of this church. But I have to be me."
Others would say just being Nancy Petty is farsighted enough. Few women lead Baptist churches. And although lesbian pastors serve in the mostly gay Metropolitan Community Churches, the number of gay pastors leading mainline churches is negligible. In the South, only one other Baptist church, Glendale Baptist in Nashville, is known to have a lesbian co-pastor. Neither Glendale nor Pullen is a member of the Southern Baptist Convention.
For Petty, who grew up in a traditional Baptist church in Shelby, coming out was a gradual process.
At Gardner-Webb University in Boiling Springs, Petty became president of the Baptist Student Organization. In her senior year, she worked as a summer youth minister at Raleigh's Greystone Baptist Church, and from there went on to earn a master of divinity from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest.
At Southeastern, Petty had her first relationship with a woman. She had known since she was a teenager that she was attracted to women, but she didn't know how her sexual orientation and her calling as a minister could co-exist. For several years, they didn't.
At St. John's Baptist in Charlotte, where she served for three years, Petty kept her orientation to herself.
Quietly coming out
But shortly after joining Pullen as minister of education in 1992, she told then-pastor Mahan Siler that she was a lesbian. Pullen had just voted to welcome gays and lesbians as full members and to perform covenant ceremonies for them. Siler assured her she was welcome.
But even then, Petty wasn't ready to announce it to all the world. People found out gradually - some years later - through conversation. For years, Petty was in a relationship. She and her former partner have two girls.
These days, Petty is far more willing to talk about her sexuality, even as church members are no longer that curious. Times have changed.
"I don't know anyone who feels it's a problem," said Roger Crook, 88, a longtime member. "It's not an issue in the church."
These days it's Petty's leadership style - caring, compassionate, but also confident and clear - that wins her attention.
"The past six months have made it clear she's not only capable but gifted," said Jonathan Sledge, a church member. "One could possibly find a better preacher or administrator or pastor, but it's rare to find all those gifts wrapped up in one person. She's the person the church needs at this point in our history."
