Why Patriarchy Keeps Women From Growing Up

My Daddy and Me

There have been many moments in my life when I thought or spoke these words out loud: I don't wanna grow up! I've said that even in my fifties.

It's human nature to want periodically to shed responsibilities and lean into others to tell us what to do, make our decisions or take care of us. When I'm really old and this becomes a possible reality, I wonder if I'll feel irritated or relieved.

Sometimes I want to return to being a little girl with her Daddy by her side, oblivious to the adult world.

But then I remember my Daddy. He worked hard as a parent to ensure I would fulfill my own adult responsibilities well. He did all he could to help me grow into a strong, self sufficient woman (maybe sooner than most kids if you want to read that story).

This meant he gave me increasing freedom to make my own decisions. This meant he kept loosening the boundaries around me and encouraging me to explore new territories on my own. This meant he understood his job as a parent was to nurture my inner strength so that I would step into the world without any sense of entitlement or inferiority.

My daddy wanted children badly but he didn't want children forever. He was committed to raising me to be a fully functioning adult, confident of my abilities to maneuver through life and confident of my standing as an equal member of the human race.

No one I know would suggest remaining in parent mode well past the normal formative years. No one would think this is healthy for anyone, whether the child, the family or the community at large.

But this is essentially what patriarchy does to women in the church.

When women are denied equal authority, equal responsibility and equal voice, they are being treated like children and are denied adulthood in its fullest sense.

When leaders have important conversations and make significant decisions without full representation from over half the church, then women haven't really grown up.

When women are barred from sitting at the table of leadership, they are being barred from the table of adults.

When men restrict a woman's sphere of influence or define the Spirit's calling in her life, they presume to be her "fathers" when she should have only one, her Heavenly Father. Never once have I heard a father dedicate his daughter to future male church leaders to spiritually guide her through life.

Patriarchy perpetuates a church culture in which girls never leave the watchful eye of a father and never really become adult women with full freedom and equal value or voice under Christ's reign.

Patriarchy is a problem for women. And it's a problem for the church because in reality without the full adulthood of women and full partnership with men, the church is crippled and adolescent. 

Voices are increasing in number as they expose problems with male-dominated church leadership. As a woman, I offer my voice, small as it may be, but determined:

I refuse to remain a child in the church or be treated like one. I am an adult!

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.

A Song of Collaboration

In my last post I described my vision for a Blessed Alliance, a partnership in the Kingdom between men and women who are encouraged, equipped and empowered to serve from their giftedness rather than their gender. I mentioned an “aha!” moment during my ministry trip to Beijing when I discovered something in the Bible that was relevant to my vision. It happened at our women’s retreat during a talk given by one of the Chinese women leaders.

As Mawei expounded on the qualities of a leader as demonstrated by Deborah in the book of Judges (chs. 4-5), I realized that I had never really paid attention to the details of the story. But I had listen to or read essays from plenty of other people who considered her story to be significant.

On one side of the debate, Deborah as a judge and prophet in Israel has been offered as biblical evidence for the full equality of women in leadership. On the other side, she is seen as an unfortunate and less than ideal substitute for the lack of male leadership. The text makes it hard to deny that Deborah is given tremendous respect for her leadership abilities, not to mention her prophetic gift which had strict qualifications according to Mosaic law (Deuteronomy 18:20-22). And it doesn’t seem to me that God had any problem recruiting unwilling judges (read about Gideon in chapter 6).

Barak is caught in the middle of the debate and is often characterized as weak or more strongly, as a coward. However some commentators believe this portrayal is too harsh. His only response is to request that Deborah accompany him to the battlefront. Barak did not dispute Deborah’s instructions. His only “weakness” may have been a lack of confidence to hear directly from God and so he wanted the prophetess to be nearby in case there were further divine orders. He had ample reason to be afraid with only ten thousand fighting Israelites against an untold but probably overwhelming number of men and 900 fearsome chariots. Yet Barak displays great courage and obeys God’s command given through Deborah. He is no weak man!

But he is also human and subject to the same lessons of faith as any other person in the Bible. Consider Moses. Even after the spectacular display of God’s presence in the (non)burning bush and of his power in the transformation of the staff, Moses still resisted God’s command to go to Egypt to face Pharaoh. When he put up the excuse of not having the gift of eloquent speech, God appointed his brother Aaron as a temporary mouthpiece. Eventually Moses found his faith and his voice so that by the time the Israelites were ready to enter the promised land after 40 years of wandering in the desert, Moses was doing just fine in the speech department (read the book of Deuteronomy).

I believe Barak also goes through a development of character and courage. Judges 5:31 tells us that after the death of Sisera and his army, the land has peace for forty years. It is not too much of a stretch to think that Barak’s initial fear has been transformed into a faith and confidence that helps to sustain this peace. In fact he is included in Hebrews 11, the “hall of faith” (11:32).

The story of Deborah is actually the story of Deborah AND Barak. A story of two individuals in partnership called by God to fulfill his purposes for the nation of Israel. A story of two leaders gifted in different but complementary ways, a judge-prophet with a general. A story of a woman who does not back away from the word she receives from God but delivers it to a man who may have been fearful initially but was still appointed by God. A story of a man who submitted to a woman nationally recognized and respected as a leader.

This is a story of mutual collaboration and dependence with roles defined by gifting and actions orchestrated by the command of God, not by cultural expectations. They operated from their strengths and leaned into the other in their weaknesses. Deborah could not wield a sword nor chase a chariot. Barak did not have the spiritual ear to discern God’s voice nor the wisdom to settle disputes. Deborah needed Barak and Barak needed Deborah to achieve the peace God intended for his people.

This collaboration is even more evident in the song of victory in Judges 5. Note that the song is sung by both Deborah and Barak (5:1) even though I have heard and read many refer to it as just the “Song of Deborah,” probably because it appears Deborah is singing most of it (5:7). As far as I know, this is the only song in the Bible written by two people. As if to illustrate their complementary roles, Barak joins her in an antiphony of mutual encouragement that echoes the theme of collaboration (verse 12):

      Barak:         Wake up, wake up, Deborah! Wake up, wake up, break out in song!

      Deborah:    Arise, Barak! Take captive your captives, son of Abinoam.

I wrote on a previous blog describing marriage as a dance of mutual submission. Here we have a song of mutual respect and honor, both praising God for his work of deliverance through their collaboration.

How I wish the church would see leadership and ministry in this way!