I hold to a complementarian worldview of gender roles. I believe that God made us male and female and that we have separate roles that are meant to complement each other. I believe that wives should submit to their husbands and that husbands should love their wives as Christ loves the church. I believe that the title of pastor is reserved for men, but that doesn't mean women can't be leaders. I believe that men and women are equally image bearers of God and that our heavenly Father does not see one sex as lesser than the other. I believe we are all gifted in different ways and that we should use those gifts to bring glory to God. I believe both men and women should learn solid theology and that we should serve one another, calling each other to holiness.
But I have also seen how complementarianism has been twisted by some into toxic patriarchy, where women are not equal image bearers, but are instead seen as less than. Where "wives submit to your husbands" is twisted to "women submit to men". Where "only men can hold the office of pastor" is twisted to "only men can be leaders of any kind". Where a woman's lesser than status means she cannot even speak in mixed company as she might be trying to teach men. Where being submissive means being a silent doormat who cannot make decisions. Where a woman's role is diminished to peaceful, homemaker only and any woman who deviates from that is looked down upon. This is wrong and disgusting and has no place in God's kingdom.
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| Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash |
At our old church I experienced this toxic patriarchy, not from the church as a whole, but from a few, and from one person in particular who would go on to hold a leadership role and ultimately played a role in our eventual departure. It eventually got to the point where I didn't want to be in the same room as this person because of how he treated me. When we first started at our former church I was working full time in an office job and our kids attended public school, which were automatically two strikes against me. I also had attended Women's School at Sojourn a few years prior which Aaron has said was like a mini-seminary and I learned quite a bit of theology. I was outspoken with my beliefs and my knowledge and I was pretty confident in who I was a woman. As I sit here now processing what happened I am just now realizing how so much of that was beaten out of me over our time there.
Sometimes the toxic beating was subtle - a comment about my parenting or housekeeping skills. The feeling of judgement because I worked and wasn't always available to serve at every event. The feeling of isolation from the other pastors' wives. The comments made about me to my husband. The expectation to fit a mold of what everyone else thought a pastor's wife should be. The slyly hidden "rebukes" for things I let my kids watch or read or listen to that were just judgements hiding behind a farce of caring. But sometimes the toxic patriarchy was blatant and in my face and I was met with it early in our time there.
When we first started attending this church we joined an adult Sunday School class that was geared towards couples. The class was led by a couple, the husband being the person who would end up causing our family the most hurt. Aaron and I attended together for the first few weeks, but it didn't take long before Aaron was pulled into serving and I was left to attend alone. Eventually I found excuses to not attend because I could not handle the way this man treated me, and women in general.
This man led the class, which was meant to be a time of discussion, as more of a lecture in which he was the professor. And it quickly became clear that if HE asked a question, especially an academic or theological one, he expected a man to answer it. Women were free to answer the questions asked by his wife or the "feelings" type questions, but not the deep, theological questions. There were several occasions when this man would ask an academic or theological question and I would answer, often correctly, but my answer would be ignored only to have a man in the room give almost the same answer and that man would be praised. It didn't take long for me to realize that my voice was not valued in that room, so I just stopped going.
In the beginning, it was easy to just avoid this man. I served in different ministries and he was not yet in leadership, so was not in our close circle. When Aaron first started serving in leadership, first as an intern and then eventually being on staff, we were serving with other couples. But over time these couples would leave to serve in other churches and eventually our circle included him.
I wasn't the only woman to have issues with this man. His view of women was that we were hysterical and emotional and not to be trusted. When he would hurt a woman, he had to be forced to apologize and then the woman was expected to immediately forgive him. His view of masculinity was rough and rugged and honestly toxic and he was very quick to judge any man who didn't fit that idea. He was legalistic and would often prescribe his preferences, that's to say he would teach (or preach) his personal preferences or conscience as if it was biblical law. He was a man who had decent orthodoxy (beliefs/theology), but lacked greatly in orthopraxy (biblical practice) and did not see the importance of treating people, especially women, well.
As this man was brought into the circle of leadership at the church, my distaste for him only grew. He was extremely critical of my husband and rarely in ways that were edifying. I found myself being angry at him a lot, because of the way he treated my husband and how he treated me and other women. And when "the event" occured in 2020, the event that eventually led to us leaving the church, his attitude towards me was dismissive, at best - he only ever spoke to Aaron and it was always in a "man, why can't you control your woman" tone. This man had issue with things I had said, but never once came to me about those issues, he only EVER spoke to Aaron. I felt as though I wasn't worthy to even be spoken to, as if my voice did not matter, and I was just an out of line, hysterical woman who had forgotten her place.
I don't think I fully understood just how much I allowed to be taken from me until I sat down and actually started writing it all out. When we started attending that church I was a different person and let me tell you, I really miss her. I allowed other people's judgements and criticism to creep into my subconscious and I put on a mask. I allowed other people's treatment (or mistreatment) of me and my husband to take root in my heart making me angry and bitter. I allowed fear of what other people thought of me to silence my voice and make me feel like I didn't have anything of value to offer. I allowed who I truly was to be squashed and beaten out of me. By the time we left the church, I didn't recognize the woman in the mirror any longer.
My hope is two-fold through this process. First, I hope to give some validation to the other women, especially pastors' wives, who have gone through something similar. I want those women to know they are seen and known and not alone. Secondly, I hope to find that woman I used to be. The woman who was excited about her faith and had a voice willing to speak and share all the Lord had done for her. The woman who knew who she was and wasn't afraid to just be herself. The woman God made me to be and who didn't feel like she had to meet some arbitrary standard that someone else set. I hope to find me again and in doing so reclaim my love and passion for the creator who made me. It's so messy and painful and sometimes it's hard to find the right words. And the fear and doubt and judgement and all the other mess still creep in and I just have to acknowledge that they are there and keep moving forward.
I've spent so many years suffering in silence, speaking of what happened to only a few people. Our exit from our former church felt abrupt to many, but there was so much that happened behind the scenes that so few knew about. I've held onto this anger and bitterness for too long. I'm ready to be free and this is how I move towards that freedom. I will not be silent and I will not hide anymore. I will share what happened and I will move on. I will process the hurt in the way that makes sense to me, which is writing it down and putting it all out there. And I trust that God is going to bring beauty from the ashes and he will restore.
