Recently, my husband and I and one of our daughters were eating lunch at a restaurant when an older man walked up to our table and asked us if we like to smile. We, of course, said yes. He proceeded to hand us a little pamphlet from the stack he was holding and began telling us Jesus is coming soon. I don’t remember much of what he said, but I smiled a tight-lipped smile and tried to excuse myself from the table. My daughter said I rolled my eyes during his monologue, but I don’t remember doing so. Instead, I did as I’d always done: keep quiet. Once he moved along, we finished our lunches, bought some ice cream, and went to eat on the park patio. Shortly, the man came along again. He stopped at our seats and recited his opening line. My husband quickly reminded him he’d spoken to us inside the restaurant. The man continued. My husband tried to distract him by asking questions, but the man was determined to finish his speech about the Second Coming. I stood up to go throw away my ice cream wrapper and managed to squeak out, “It depends on how you interpret Scripture.” That’s all I could say. I couldn’t carry on a discussion with the man because my brain was in fight or flight mode, and I couldn’t calm it.
I grew up in a religious culture in which women were taught to be subservient to men. And not just any men, but white, conservative Christian men. Women had little to no leadership roles, and questioning the men in authority was out of the question. A woman’s worth was based on her adherence to Proverbs 31, but a man’s worth was based on how much power he had within the church. Control and manipulation were the tactics to keep women quiet.
The only power women had was the ability to make a man have a sexual thoughts, or worse, act on those thoughts. Women could do this by simply wearing a v-neck shirt that was cut a little too low, wearing too-tight pants, and heaven forbid, a too-short skirt. For women to have had so little power in any other situation, a woman could be blamed and bear the sole responsibility for a man’s sin. We were constantly reminded to be above reproach, to wear modest clothing, and to be mindful not to cause a man to stumble. Our whole lives revolved around making sure those men were happy, never undermining their power, and ensuring they were able to control themselves around us.
Even as an adult who has been out of that bubble for a long time, I still find it difficult to stand up to or say no to such men. I’m still somewhat intimidated by them and, at times, long for their approval. It’s a sick remnant of my childhood and early-adult belief system that was perpetuated by my denomination’s twisted interpretation of Scripture. Men were to be the head of the household and head of the church, and women were little more than servants to those power-hungry men. Men were superior, and women were inferior. Scripture was often selected and taken out of context to support those ideas. Having been disciplined to believe the Bible is literal and without error, that our denomination’s interpretation was the only truth, and that the men delivering those truths were powerful, it’s not surprising that those beliefs so deeply instilled in me still cause fear to rise within me.
It’s no wonder I felt fear — not to be confused with respect — when the man kept pestering us at lunch. It’s no wonder my fight or flight mode kicked in, and as usual, flight won. It’s no wonder so many women in that religious culture are afraid to speak up, to defend themselves, to say no, or even, to tell what some man in power did to them.
Hello Rebekah, it’s been a while since I’ve left a comment, but I continue to be blessed by your observations. This one, in particular, caught my attention. As a white pastor attempting to operate in evangelical circles, I acknowledge the sad truth of your observations. I, too, was taught that women were to “keep silence” in church, were not to teach or “usurp authority” over the man, and that the husband is the “head of the wife” to whom she was to be ultimately submissive.
And, since I was a privileged male, I didn’t feel the sting of such demeaning words…until. I have four children, two of whom are daughters. Any way you cut that dogmatic positional pie, it oozes with misogyny. My girls and my wife (not in the “possessive” sense, only the relational sense) bear as fully the image of God as do I or any male. In fact, Genesis itself describes the one Adam as consisting of both “male” and “female” to whom both were given authority to manage God’s world. The description in Genesis 3:16, in which the woman would “desire” the man and he would “rule” over her, is not God’s prescription, but a description of our fallenness. Through Jesus, the Fall is being reversed and the church–of all places–should express the eschatological reality of full mutuality in the present age. Sadly, our churches fail badly at this.
Thank you for being a voice. I encourage you to continue to express the full strength of your womanhood, especially when some guy, toting tracts about the second coming of Christ interrupts your lunch. I’m sure he had every good intention, however misguided. As Priscilla instructed Apollos the way of the Lord more perfectly, I invite you to engage, with the full authority of your womanhood, anyone man on equal footing. The world, and the church, is much better off when everyone is given equal voice.
Sorry to write so much–this is a subject about which I’m rather passionate.
Shalom, my sister.
Garry