Why is the Southern Baptist church so afraid of putting a woman in charge? | Opinion

A recent article in The Modesto Bee discussed the Southern Baptist statement of faith. I am not a Baptist, and I harbor no rancor for those who are. But, as a woman, I wonder sometimes what, exactly, they are afraid of?

I pose this question with respect to our country’s largest Protestant denomination’s attitude toward women who wish nothing more or less than the freedom to serve their God as they are called.

As stated in The Bee article, the denomination’s statement of faith says that “only men” could be affirmed or employed “as any kind of pastor or elder as qualified by scripture.” The movement currently afoot would have added this language to the denomination’s constitution, thereby strengthening enforcement, “and, its proponents say, would have streamlined the denomination’s ability to oust individual churches that employ women with titles like ‘children’s pastor,’” according to the article.

Again, I ask, what are they afraid of?

This question perplexes me because I spent 25 years in the Church of Christ. Interestingly, when I was banned from teaching teens in this church to which I had been faithful in all respects for all those many years, I finally felt I could no longer play by the arbitrary rules initiated by the men who held leadership positions above me.

What I finally realized was that their rules were in direct opposition to a calling I felt strongly — a calling that I knew came from a much higher authority.

I was forbidden from teaching teens even though there was no man in that large congregation who was interested in or able to fill that position. The rationale behind my disqualification? That fellowship’s doctrine stated that “a woman cannot usurp authority over a man,” and the further teaching that, when a boy turns 12, he becomes a man and can no longer be taught by a woman.

No matter how counter-intuitive this sounds to anyone knowledgeable about children, that was the stand taken by the elders when I merely asked to teach teens on Wednesday nights.

When I finally made the break and walked away from this fellowship that had been my extended family for decades, I noticed a classified advertisement in the Salinas Californian. The Presbyterian Church right up the street was seeking someone to work full time doing its children and youth work. I won the right to be that person. And everything flourished.

Interesting, isn’t it, that when a higher power is in charge, there is joy and multiplying enthusiasm way beyond our human ability to dream or imagine?

I look back on my tenure at Northminster Presbyterian Church in Salinas with the warmest feelings of completion. I was right where I belonged. I was doing work for which I was perfectly suited and gifted. And we watched miracles unfold routinely.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

I remember a surprising moment during my employment at Northminster: My husband came home from the Church of Christ (where he still worshiped) one Sunday and said, “One of the elders said something interesting to me today. He said, ‘I think I finally understand Bunny. She was not trying to destroy. She was trying to build up.’”

There are two messages in those few words: First, I appreciated the fact that this man could finally see me clearly. But I realized that erstwhile I had been viewed as a “destroyer” by those men holding authority over me. That’s a very powerful image. Bunny the Destroyer.

That’s far in the past now. Yet, to this day, when I see, read or hear indications of how far we have not evolved in our understanding of spiritual grace and giftedness, I am frustrated on behalf of my sisters who remain an underclass purely because of a physical attribute over which they have absolutely no control.

To me, it seems as arbitrary as excluding people with a certain eye or hair color, height, weight or shoe size. These are all inherent traits — not chosen. And, I might add, they have no bearing on one’s ability to learn, study, imagine, innovate, inspire, encourage, teach or lead.

I am reminded of an article I once read in a clergy magazine that dealt with a woman who pastored a large church. Her ministry was blessed over and over with positive outcomes in the lives of her congregants. She was beautifully suited for her ministry and was openly loved and appreciated by her parishioners. One Sunday, while on vacation, she and her three-year-old son attended a worship service in another city. As they were leaving the service, her son, looking up at her in amazement, asked, “You mean sometimes they let a man do your job, Mommy?”

Now, that’s a good question.