Back in March, I mentioned that I listen to Grace to You, the radio ministry of John MacArthur, and promised that I would take him to task someday on his extreme complementarian views. But then I put this post on the back burner. This is partly due to the fact that current events inspired other posts which I felt took priority, but if I am being honest, I also didn’t fully recognize and appreciate the overlap of Christian Nationalism with complementarianism. I am passionate about the mission I sense God has given me, to speak out against Christian Nationalism. I read every book and article, listen to every podcast or documentary I can get my hands on to make sure I fully understand this unbiblical philosophy in all of its nuance. Family and friends who know about this passion will sometimes even send me material, asking “did you see this?” But I must humbly confess that I am still learning. At the root of Christian Nationalism is fear of change, which has resulted in men, especially white men, fearing a loss of authority and status as women broke into careers that have long been pretty much the exclusive domain of men, and as black Americans fought for and won basic civil rights, to distort Scripture to justify racial subjugation and patriarchy. People are complex, and I still give John MacArthur credit for recognizing the foolishness of Christians lobbying in Washington. But lobbying in Washington is just the tip of the iceberg of the harmful repercussions of Christian Nationalism, and unfortunately, John Macarthur has serious blind spots in his interpretation of Scripture. I was horrified when I read recently that John Macarthur commented back in 2012 that he found it strange that we have such an aversion to the human institution of slavery because for some slaves working for a gentle, caring, loving master was the best of all possible worlds. But perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, I am not implying that holding complementarian views also means you condone slavery. But given the insecurity at the root of Christian Nationalism, it makes perfect sense how for John MacArthur, as well as those who don’t want children to learn just how evil the institution of chattel slavery was, downplaying slavery and preaching complementarian theology would go hand-in-hand. Our God is a God of progressive revelation, and perhaps this applies not only to God’s gradual revelation of his redemptive plan for humanity over the course of about a thousand years, but also to a more enlightened understanding of Scripture, as new archeological evidence comes to light and scholars gain new insights. Christians still have a lot of work to do toward living as Christ calls us to live, evidenced by the fact that Sunday mornings are still the most segregated time of the week. I am also well aware that globally, there are more people working as slaves today than there were in the 18th and 19th centuries. But at least in principle, the vast majority of American Christians would agree that slavery, especially Chattel slavery, was an ungodly institution according to Scripture, read in its proper context. Our understanding of God’s view of women has not caught up to this level of enlightenment yet. But in The Making of Biblical Womanhood, Beth Allison Barr raises a compelling question: “When we rightly understand that biblical passages discussing slavery must be framed within their historical context and that, when framed through the lens of this historical context, we can better see slavery as an ungodly system that stands contrary to the gospel of Christ, how can we not then apply the same standards to biblical texts about women?” (Page 34) Given the rise of Kamala Harris to the top of the Democratic ticket, and the fact that many prominent figures, most notably J.D. Vance share John MacArthur’s view that a woman’s place is in the home, caring for (biological) children, it is time to give this issue priority.
In her book Nobody’s Mother: Artemis of the Ephesians in Antiquity and the New Testament, Sandra L. Glahn, before diving into the academic focus of the book, shares her personal story. She grew up in a large, traditional family. Her father had a good job with the federal government, and her mother loved being a homemaker and doted on Sandra and her four siblings. Sandra always dreamed of being a mother, and church teaching she was exposed to reenforced this, teaching that motherhood and homemaking was God’s ordained purpose for women. But after multiple miscarriages, an ectopic pregnancy and three failed attempts to adopt, Sandra struggled not only with the emotional and financial toll of infertility treatments and hopes dashed, but also with the question of what God’s purpose was for women like her? It is this question which inspired her to study more carefully the cultural context of ancient Ephesus, the backdrop of 1 Timothy 2:15 in which Paul writes, “But women will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety.” Beth Allison Barr, a Southern Baptist who grew up immersed in complementarian theology, and a history professor who teaches about women in Medieval and early modern church history, was inspired to write her book after her husband, a youth pastor, was fired for challenging the church’s position on women in ministry. Both Sandra Glahn and Beth Allison Barr acknowledge that everyone reads Scripture through the grid of their personal experiences. As I have discussed frequently on this blog, Christian Nationalists also twist Scripture out of context, or cherry-pick passages that support their political agenda, while ignoring others that do not. But what if Beth Allison Barr and Sandra Glahn were doing the same thing? It is true that the extreme positions taken by some evangelicals, or at least the self-righteous, judgmental way biblical principles are applied, is contrary to the teachings of Jesus. But it is also true that God’s ways are higher than our ways, and as such, true Christians can expect that at some point in their study of Scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal something we don’t want to hear, or that goes against the cultural trends of the day. Put another way, one of our pastors once said that if God always agrees with you in every matter, it could be that you are creating God in your own image. But Sandra Glahn and Beth Allison Barr make a commitment to set their personal experiences aside, and to evaluate, as impartially as is humanly possible, the emerging research of Bible scholars, and archeological discoveries related to the cultural contexts of ancient Ephesus and Corinth. In so doing, these women make a compelling argument that “biblical patriarchy” isn’t really biblical at all.
The concept of biblical patriarchy, as Beth Allison Barr pointed out, goes all the way back to Adam and Eve in Genesis 3:16 when God told Eve, “I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.” This is after Adam and Eve had disobeyed God and eaten from the forbidden tree. This is Scripture’s first indication that biblical patriarchy was not ordained by God, and not part of God’s original creation but another consequence of the fall. The curse of sin will not be fully reversed until Christ returns, but if Christ called Christians to be salt and light, offering the world a foretaste of God’s kingdom, we should be taking our cues from other passages of Scripture, especially Galatians 3:28, not from the culture around us, or even from church history. Beth Allison Barr notes that “Christians in the past may have used Paul to exclude women from leadership, but this doesn’t mean the subjugation of women is biblical. It just means that Christians today are repeating the same mistake of Christians in the past—modeling our treatment of women after the world around us instead of the world Jesus shows us is possible” (Page 41).
According to Sandra Glahn, it is also worth noting that in Proverbs 31, the Old Testament passage proponents of complementarian theology turn to most, the virtuous woman described does fulfill domestic duties—providing food, sewing garments—and submits to her husband. But she also “sees that her trading is profitable” (31:18), makes and sells linen garments (31:24), and “speaks with wisdom” implying that a virtuous woman could teach (31:26). In other words, a virtuous woman could provide for her family while also earning money outside the home.
In the Gospel accounts, Jesus models a level of respect for women that was radical for his time. In Luke 10:42 for example, Jesus is invited for dinner at the home of Martha and her sister Mary, but Martha is upset that her sister is sitting at Jesus’s feet listening to him teach, rather than helping her with dinner preparation. In response, Jesus says, “Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her,” prompting Sandra Glahn to quip that “The first female seminarian was not feminist Betty Friedan’s idea, but Jesus Christ’s” (Page 10).
People hostile to Christianity love to hate Paul, but this hostility is due to an inadequate understanding of the context of Paul’s letters, perpetuated by prominent pastors like John MacArthur. When framed properly in their cultural contexts, Paul’s letters actually offer the most compelling repudiations of biblical patriarchy. While proponents of complementarian theology, and those hostile to Paul, for different reasons cannot get past Ephesians 5:22—wives, submit to your husbands—the women Paul was speaking to would have focused on Ephesians 5:27—husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them—and this would have been revolutionary in a historical context where Roman law viewed women as the property of men, and Pagan husbands frequently beat their wives. According to Beth Allison Barr, Roman civil law required women to submit to their husbands. Paul believed that the credibility of the Gospel of Christ depended on everyone living quiet lives, obeying to the greatest extent possible all the civil laws so as not to cause trouble. But Paul also believed it was possible to simultaneously live quiet lives in obedience to Roman civil law, yet also live subversively as people who recognize they are ultimately citizens of another world.
If God ordained marriage for all women, (1 Timothy 5:14), then why, in 1 Corinthians 7:8 does he tell Corinthian widows it is good to stay unmarried? It is clear that these books of the Bible, which are letters Paul wrote to specific churches to address specific situations that arose based on the unique cultural contexts of each church. Moreover, Paul makes it clear through the use of first-person pronouns—so I counsel other widows—that his words are not a command directly from the Lord as the words of the prophets were, but words of wisdom in his own voice, informed by prayer and study of Scripture no doubt, but still his own words to address specific circumstances, not decrees for all time. And if Paul’s wisdom, informed by the Holy Spirit and study of Scripture held that it is good for some women to remain unmarried, and if the Law, Prophets, and Christ himself were clear that marriage is a necessary prerequisite to childbearing, then Paul could not have been teaching in 1 Timothy 2:15 that childbearing is necessary for a woman’s eternal salvation. The Catholic church I grew up in is extremely patriarchal: only men can become priests, despite the fact that in 1 Corinthians 11:5, Paul presumed that women would prophesy, and on the day of Pentecost, both men and women prophesied. But the Catholic requirement that nuns and priests live celibate lives is a testament to the recognition that while raising children is a beautiful, high calling, so is celibacy, as it allows people to devote their lives to serving the Lord at a level that would not be feasible if they had to juggle marriage and family responsibilities.
Artemis has long been thought to be a fertility goddess, but archeological evidence disputes this, as literary, epigraphic and architectural artifacts have revealed that Artemis was a virgin, though she indirectly contributed to fertility as a midwife whom the Ephesians believed could deliver women safely through childbirth, a perilous experience that killed many women before modern medicine, or if the woman must die, kill her quickly and painlessly. Paul would have understood how newly converted Ephesian women might have been tempted, due to social pressure and internal anxiety, to cover all their bases, praying to Jesus while also, secretly if necessary, going to the temple and offering a sacrifice to Artemis. Thus, Sandra Glahn makes the compelling argument that Paul received assurance from the Holy Spirit, and was passing this assurance on to Timothy, that during this foundational period for the church when the influence of false deities was still powerful, women in Timothy’s pastoral care would not die in childbirth so long as they fully trusted in the true Savior and deliverer.
This is not an exhaustive overview of all the biblical passages that repudiate complementarian theology. An exhaustive overview would have turned this blog post into a novel. But I hope it is enough to soften the hearts of people hostile to Christianity, and to comfort others who may be like me. You see, the brain tumor that caused my blindness also damaged my pituitary gland, so it would be risky, if not impossible for me to have children. Furthermore, I haven’t yet met a life partner anyway, not that I am really looking for one. After observing friends and coworkers using online dating apps that encourage superficiality, and after reading articles about how abusive, controlling men sometimes seek out women with disabilities, I have decided not to force things. If God wants me to marry someday, he will put me in contact with the right guy who may join my choir, or be out walking his dog at the same time I am walking mine. Until then, I am content to be a single, childless cat lady, and it is comforting to be assured through Scripture, the Holy Spirit, and the scholarly research presented in the books I have mentioned, that there is nothing wrong with that. Of course, I do need to be mindful that my love for my cat doesn’t cross the line into idolatry. Like maybe I shouldn’t have spent $17 on a fancy laser toy for him on Chewy last week. That money could have gone to mission work. But in all seriousness, if you are reading this as a woman who has found a life partner and you have been blessed with the joy of holding a baby in your lap, you are fulfilling a beautiful, high calling in raising the next generation. But if you are reading this as a woman who has not found a life partner, does not feel called to raise children, or you are unable to have children, and you spend your evenings watching television with a purring cat in your lap, your life is no less virtuous or beautiful. It may be that God has blessed you with an equally beautiful, high calling, to devote your life fully to serving the Lord. Don’t listen to insecure male pastors or politicians who twist Scripture to convince you otherwise. And if you grew up going to church, but you left because of complementarian theology, I pray you might come back, and give Christianity another chance because complementarian theology is a byproduct of Christian Nationalism, not true Christianity.
That Reminds me of a Song: Every Sunday morning for several years, I listened to Rick Jackson’s Country Hall of Fame on the radio, which featured older country songs no longer played regularly on the radio. Easter Sunday featured one of my favorite episodes of the year, as the theme was gospel music. That is where I first heard He’s Alive, sung by Dolly Parton. It is told from Peter’s point of view, but it tells the story of how women were the first to discover that Jesus’s body was no longer in the tomb. A pastor once explained that in the Roman world, if someone committed a crime and 100 women witnessed it, but no men had witnessed it, the court would not find their testimony credible, and the alleged criminal would likely go free. But the testimony of one man would be taken seriously. Knowing this, it is easy to understand how Peter could not believe Mary at first, until he saw Jesus for himself. This is a thrilling song, and one I make sure to play every Easter, even though Rick Jackson’s Country Hall of Fame is no longer on the air. But what I love about this song as it relates to this blog, is how it pierces the soul as only music can, not only with the liberating power of Christ’s resurrection itself, but also the fact that the incredible privilege of being the first to see the empty tomb, and spread this most important testimony in human history was given to women. That ought to be enough to repudiate complementarian theology once and for all.