There Is No Middle Ground for Women in the Church

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When it was time for recess in grade school, I usually made a beeline for the seesaws. I loved flying up and then dropping suddenly to hit the ground with a thud.

But I loved even more the challenge of keeping the seesaw suspended in mid-air with a playmate who weighed the same as I did. For some reason the gravitational stalemate gave me a sense of satisfaction.

Perhaps my fascination with playground physics was useful in helping me accept theological tensions such as the sovereignty of God and the free will of humans. I try to hold two seemingly contradictory views together in balance.

But it doesn't work for me as an evangelical woman with a passion for ministry in a church community.

There was a time I tried to keep both a hierarchical view of authority in the church and a freedom for women to use their Spirit-given gifts as they felt called by God.

I had started the journey of wrestling through the issues of a woman's place in the life of the church. But then I got caught in the middle where I was undecided how far I would go along the spectrum of beliefs about women.

I was certainly moving away from complementarian theology (women can only be teachers and leaders of other women; husbands lead, wives submit) which took shape during Bible college and was reinforced in my church. Years later I progressed to believing women could teach men and preach behind the pulpit.

But it was hard to cut the cord to nearly 30 years of believing the absolutist doctrine of ordained male leadership. Surely women could be truly valued and free under the authority of male elders. Godly male elders. Really really kind gentle male elders. And if they had a family, elders who loved their wives and daughters and therefore understood other women enough to pay attention to their voices in the community. (Hmmm...I could never figure out why single male elders were allowed despite the plain reading of 1 Timothy 3:2.)

I was trying to find a middle ground, that sweet spot on the seesaw that kept my complementarian theology balanced with my egalitarian heart. I even found a church that was trying to do the same thing with their "soft" complementarian position.* They really believed that it was possible for complementarians and egalitarians to worship and serve together in one community. I really wanted it to be possible too.

But after six years of disappointments, I quit straddling the fulcrum between egalitarianism and complementarianism. I lifted my foot off the one side and planted both feet fully on the side of full freedom for women and what I believed to be the real vision of the Kingdom. I couldn't run fast enough down the plank to search for a fully egalitarian church, one with women elders, which I found.

I love seesaws, but on the issue of women, the metaphor doesn't work. I cannot be an egalitarian and worship in a complementarian church anymore. And as moderate as a "soft" complementarian church may be, it is still a hierarchy with power vested in men alone.

Eventually my seesaw had to tip to one side or the other. I made the choice of which side with full integrity as I searched through Scripture and with discernment in how the Spirit had been moving in my life all along.

The middle spot is unsustainable on this issue. Gravity will win and one side will crash.

It will crash because theology and Bible interpretation has been and will continue to be a place of disagreement. In other words humans will always pick and choose what they want to believe and practice. Churches that try the middle spot will find that it is a place where theology is suspended or ignored or compromised. But it doesn't work for the long term because theology cannot be kept private when the practices of the church are public. A church cannot avoid practicing their doctrine of women. So complementarians walk out of services when a woman preaches and egalitarians grieve where women are absent or silenced.

It will crash because we are sinful. In other words humans are limited and fallible and will always struggle with loving well. So there is no such thing as truly benevolent male elders. Sin has distorted perceptions of women as well as perceptions of men. The only way to overcome sin's impact on gender relations is to distribute the power equally and create a leadership space where every voice has authority and choice to submit to one another. Without women in the room, hidden misogyny or damaging attitudes may not be exposed. As long as men hold absolute authority there is always the possibility for blind spots and an inability to hear women accurately. And maybe even the possibility of abuse. How can a church address justice issues in the world if it's not willing to address justice issues in its own house?

It will crash because we can't rid ourselves of our cultural influences and agree upon one lens through which we view and interpret the world or Scripture. In other words humans will always have their biases. But many biases have changed through the course of history. Much of God's will in heaven and the movement of the Spirit on earth is a mystery but if we pay attention to what He has been doing through time, we can glimpse the path we should take culturally. If God created male and female to rule together at the beginning and if there is no gendered hierarchy in the new heavens and new earth, then the middle time of the church should be an increasing transformation into what God intended and will bring about in the end.

The transformation may be slow, but it's unstoppable. And it's better understood in hindsight.

Luther's Reformation tells us that the church got it wrong at one point. When it comes to women, they have it wrong again. But I believe there's another reformation in the air. It may be hard to find evangelical, egalitarian churches now but I sense a tipping point ahead.

The seesaw has a slight tilt to one side. 


*The "soft complementarian" position is articulated by Craig Blomberg in his essay found in the revised edition of Two Views on Women in Ministry. The doctrine and its practice is established by loosening up on some biblical passages while holding fast to others. Women are free to use their Spirit-based gifts in teaching and preaching but they are excluded from positions that hold the highest level of authority in the church whether it's an elder board or a senior pastor position.

The Music a Church Plays

Recently a close friend sent a link to a video from the NY Times titled "Connecting Music and Gesture." My friend suggested the video was an appropriate analogy to church leadership. I so agree and love the implications.

The metaphor of an orchestra makes more sense to me than the metaphor of a factory a certain pastor years ago used to describe his church. In his business model people were on a conveyor belt and leaders were workers who "ministered" parts so that as they came off the belt each person would be a mature, functioning member of the church, a well-defined product according to the flowchart. The factory church did not sit well with me then. It disgusts me today. In Christ’s story for his Bride, people are subjects, not objects, objects that are used rather than known and listened to.

The metaphor of an orchestra appeals to me because the people are subjects. The conductor represents the leaders of the church, and the musicians are the members. Here are some transcript excerpts from the video where Alan Gilbert of the New York Philharmonic explains the role of the conductor (highlighted sections are mine):

“There is no way to really put your finger on what makes conducting great, even what makes conducting work. Essentially what conducting is about is getting the players to play their best and to be able to use their energy and to access their point of view about the music. There is a connection between the gesture, the physical presence, the aura that a conductor can project, and what the musicians produce.”

“There are lines that exist together and relate to each other in a linear way. So there’s a basic flow that happens, but one thing I was particularly thinking about just now was bringing out different layers…I find that interesting, so it’s not just a monolithic, homogenized texture. It’s a texture that hopefully works well together, but has local features, based on how each individual line moves.”

“One of the ways to make your sound better is to make it really obvious that you’re really listening and that it really matters to you what it sounds like. That’s not actually conducting. It’s kind of embodying or representing a kind of aspiration, if you will, and it’s uncanny how that actually can make a difference. As soon as it’s apparent that your ears are open and that you’re interested and you’re following the contour of the sound, then that very contour is affected by that.”

Can you see the beauty of this analogy? My husband did. He wrote a response after watching the video that I want to share with you.

“I understand that thought, being one who appreciates a good conductor when playing in an orchestra.  The reason a conductor is needed in an orchestra is because all the musicians are playing parts that make a whole, and the parts are not their own invention--but those of a higher power, the composer.  The conductor is the interpreter who draws out those voices in the orchestra or choir and maintains the unity and coherence of the whole. 

A church operating with the leader-conductor view would see the church body as the musicians playing parts written on their hearts by the Holy Spirit.  These could be also seen as the spiritual gifts given for the working together of the church as a unified body.  The leader-conductor becomes the interpreter who draws on all those "voices" in the congregation to bring out the grand and unified sound as it was originally intended by the composer, God. 

Unfortunately, some conductors I have played for (generally in middle school years) were band-oriented conductors and knew nothing of string instruments.  As a result, when those conductors were directing the full orchestra the string instruments were rarely the focus of their attention and, as a cellist, I felt neglected.  We played our parts but knew that the conductor was semi-blind to our need for direction and if we played badly it didn't seem to matter.  I remember those times with a feeling of wanting out, wanting something more, wanting to be known.”

Jon goes on to write that he understands why certain groups struggle with their place in the church, including women who are evangelical, boomers who are progressive and youth who have uncomfortable questions. He concluded with this:

[Many] have been chosen to be neglected or relegated to limited roles rather than being known and used as God has primarily gifted them.  Perhaps the [leaders] would do well to think about re-interpreting the script and be better listeners of the congregation they feel that God has asked them to conduct.

Not just the ones who are included determine the texture of a church but also the ones who have been marginalized, whose voices have been silenced. The tapestry may look really good until you look closely at the frayed edges.


Back to our metaphor. The orchestra may sound okay to the untrained ear but to those with discernment, there is something missing. There are sections that are not playing up to their full potential because the conductor is not paying attention or is intentionally ignoring them. The full beauty of the composition is being missed when those sections are not playing the parts that were composed for them. 


And when a musician cannot play to their fullest potential, eventually they quit playing and a part of their soul dies or they find another orchestra because they must play the music in their hearts.

The In-Between Place

It was my first Sunday back in church since I returned from China.  I had missed three weeks in a row including the weekend I spent in prayer and solitude at the beach before departing Portland. It was wonderful to see my own community of believers again, but to be honest there were some mixed feelings.

On one hand, I am deeply grateful for this large church which has become a place of healing and growth. I love Rick’s preaching (and anyone else who is in the pulpit) and the church’s commitment to mission. I love our home community and the depth of relationships I experience there. Its support of the arts has reawakened the creative side of me. The School of Theology is a perfect place for me to exercise my teaching gifts and share how I do life with God. There isn’t any doubt in my mind that God led Jon and me to Imago Dei Community five years ago.

On the other hand, there are great advantages to being a smaller church, which is mostly what I observed in Beijing. Every person matters. No one is invisible. Every gift of the body is critical to its survival. Even though Mao Zedong was the one who liberated women from misogyny – Mao was the one who said “women hold up half the sky” - the church has benefited from this. Women serve alongside men by teaching, preaching and administrating. They don’t have time to debate gender equality. Instead they assume it because everyone is needed as they focus and serve in the midst of very difficult circumstances.

Discipleship is automatic and always in high gear because growth and commitment are a given rather than an option. And by necessity, leaders are raised from within the community, often after minimal time and training. The leaders are identified by a willing and teachable heart and a commitment to the community. They are committed to team leadership, being called co-workers rather than elders, pastors or deacons. They avoid exalting any one person from becoming a main leader or powerful figure in the church. Visions of grandeur or fame or wealth were not on the minds of those I met, contrary to what I saw in Uganda. This is from my own limited observations and conversations with the Chinese believers so I know that somewhere in China there are exceptions to the above descriptions.

I’ve been trying to understand why I experienced a level of discontentment at Imago prior to leaving, but felt deep contentment and excitement in Beijing. Perhaps it’s because Beijing sounds more exciting than Portland for now but it would eventually lose its thrill if I end up going back more often. Then again, maybe God is calling me to Beijing and not to Portland. Or maybe I’m tired of American church politics or debates that seem to trigger insecurities, discourage parts of Christ’s body or contribute to a lack of balance in the church. Perhaps the condition of the churches in Beijing has clarified for me what is really important and has put things in perspective. Probably it’s all of the above.

I anticipate a period of processing what I experienced in China in light of what I currently experience in Portland. It happened before when I got back from Uganda. I’m sure it’s necessary this time too. After Uganda, my processing led to a conviction that if I ever went overseas again, my small part in the Kingdom would be the training and teaching of church leaders. Having experienced that in China, the conviction is now certain. The location is not.

As I sat in church Sunday and listened to Rick preach on Jacob, my ears perked up. I have always described my life with God as being similar to Jacob’s. When God asks me to do something, I usually resist and end up “wrestling” with Him in prayer until I submit. My typical response is to go “kicking and screaming” into God’s will. Funny, I also have a small limp, except it’s from falling off the roof five years ago.

But Rick hasn’t gotten to that story in Jacob’s journey yet. Sunday’s message revolved around Jacob’s escape from Esau and his “stairway” dream. As Rick worked his way through the passage, it occurred to me that I had another connection with Jacob.  I had never noticed Jacob’s response to his dream before:

Then Jacob made a vow, saying, “If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father’s house, then the LORD will be my God and this stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God’s house, and of all that you give me I will give you a tenth.” (Gen. 28:20-22)

Like Jacob, my initial prayer of belief as a teenager came with conditions. I remember clearly what I was thinking as I said that “prayer.” If there really was a God, then He had a perfect will for my life, a will that must include success (I shared this “success” motivation in an earlier blog). I would accept Jesus as my Savior because I wanted that perfect will. Forgiveness from sin was secondary, especially since I didn’t feel very sinful.

Did I really become a Christian that night? I believe so – I experienced some immediate changes. It was an imperfect faith, but it was enough to establish a relationship with God through Christ. The rest of my journey would entail a constant correction of my initial theology, just as God accepted Jacob’s small faith and did not correct him in the moment after his response to the dream. Jacob’s correction in theology happened through Laban and Esau.

My journey of failure and correction as well as growth and discovery has been long. But just recently, God spoke to my heart after a time of reflection on the last eighteen months in which I learned to rest in Him. During those months, Psalm 46 became my guide as I learned to “be still and know” that God was God. I had to come to a special place, an “in-between place,” as Rick framed it in his message Sunday, where I truly believed that He delighted in me even if I did nothing with the rest of my life.

On this particular day of reflection, God reminded me of my motivation in receiving Christ as my Savior, the motivation of wanting His perfect will, what He had to offer by way of meaning and purpose. It was then I received a deep peace and an affirmation in the Spirit that my motivation to follow Christ had changed in two significant ways. First, through failure and repentance I had come to understand the cross of Christ and my need for a Savior. Second, through rest and repentance I had come to desire God above all else, above His perfect will, above my purpose for life. This in-between place has been transformed into a sacred place, which is what I believe happened to Jacob as he wrestled God for the last time before meeting Esau again.

I know I probably fall back into conditional faith here and there, but I’m finding it easier to find that sacred place and avoid the in-between place. My kicking and screaming is less frequent and less prolonged. I’m still a Jacob who wrestles with God, but then I feel my “limp” and remember to let go of what I think is God’s will and hang tight onto God Himself.

So back to my discontentment…all of those feelings are centered in what I do. But I realize that deep contentment does not come from discovering what I am to do in God’s kingdom, but it comes from holding tight to God Himself and knowing I am secure in Christ. However my journey turns out, especially after this brief trip to Beijing, I am assured that as long as I cling to Christ, the journey will be just as God wills.