Hierarchicalism has unintended consequences. Husbands, fathers, boyfriends, brothers who may be prone to violence may use the stance to “encourage” the women in their lives to be properly submissive.
Even if it were successfully demonstrated that hierarchicalism is the Biblical model for family relationships, nothing in the Bible allows for violence toward wives and daughters. Not when Paul says, “the husband must give his wife the same sort of love that Christ gave to the Church, when he sacrificed himself for her” (Eph. 5:25 Phillips).
For centuries English common law allowed husbands to beat their wives, as long as the stick used was no thicker than a man’s thumb. Puritans in seventeenth century New England may have passed the first laws to make wife-beating illegal. By no means did they espouse egalitarianism, but they did recognize such violence had no place in their community.
In a climate when family violence seems rife, those who insist hierarchicalism is the Biblical vision for marriages must take extra steps to make sure husbands and wives should know physical and psychological violence cannot be tolerated. No pastor must ever tell a bruised wife that staying in the path of her husband’s fists is God’s will for her. No church must ever allow an abusive husband to remain in a position of authority and influence; if his wife may not be a deacon merely because of her gender, his behavior should certainly preclude his having the title. With that, I will move on.
There is yet another hurdle those committed to hierarchicalism must face. By its very tenets, the doctrine limits the freedom of more than half of those within Christ’s church. I say “more than half” deliberately: since at least the seventeenth century more women than men have been active participants in the church. Limiting their freedom is a significant privilege to presume. It demands certainty.
Yet, curiously, J. I. Packer, in an article in Christianity Today, admits there are questions about the crucial passage I Timothy 2:13-14 but urges churches to give Paul “the benefit of the doubt” and refuse to ordain women (11 February 1991). When I first read those words, I wondered why giving Paul that benefit of the doubt meant assuming the apostle intended to support a viewpoint which coincidentally was the viewpoint Packer held. How can we presume to limit the freedom of our spiritual sisters when we are not convinced beyond “doubt” Paul sanctioned our doing so?
Unlike Packer, not a few of those who believe Paul was proposing gender hierarchy within the church would never admit there are questions about the passage. Objections to their viewpoint simply won’t be allowed. I once heard a local radio host in Columbus, Ohio, answer a listener’s question about women preaching. He said, “Anyone who allows women to preach has to explain away Paul’s words in First Timothy.” That’s it; that was his answer. The man who had spent years as a pastor could not imagine that anyone who disagreed with him might actually be offering a reasonable alternative understanding of Paul’s words, not simply explaining them away or dismissing them.
It will be impossible to persuade such a man that there might be another way to read the texts he has so long assumed supported his viewpoint. So, I will abandon that endeavor.
Instead, I will ask you to pursue the answers to a few questions.
Have you ever considered what our churches are losing by preventing women from making full use of their talents as leaders, teachers, preachers?
Why would Paul praise women as co-workers, allow them to prophesy, and describe them as church leaders in other places, yet seemingly limit their roles in a couple passages in his letters to Timothy and Titus?
If they were allowed to teach and preach, could women give us greater insights into marriage, family life, and domestic violence than male teachers and preachers?
What can we do to make sure our daughters and sons hear about the many female heroes in church history? (Why should our children know about John Smith but not Anne Hutchinson?)
Could the church’s youthful critics—who see Christianity as sexist—be exposing a family secret, one that demands we reevaluate our glib repetition of old formulas?
If we had more women leaders, would our churches and denominations have been so inclined to support men who demean women and trivialize assault?
Is it possible Paul’s words that seem to limit the freedom of women did not lay down eternal principles; but, rather, were addressing specific situations?
That’s a start. Maybe answering these questions won’t persuade you to take an egalitarian stance, but maybe you will come away with a better understanding of those who already stand there. If you are an egalitarian, maybe this exercise will strengthen your case.
During this Women’s History Month, it seems appropriate to challenge some of ways women are being treated, ways that should be history. Maybe someday.
