The Hyphen House

by Jonathan Brink
re-posted from Missio Dei

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I am making a call to men to step up to a level of fierce, sacrificial love for women.

Recently I’ve been listening to the great chasm between men and women that exists in culture. It’s not new but I have been exploring this divide in a deeper way in my own heart. And I now believe it is time to respond in a tangible way. In some ways, I fell like this is one of the most important posts I have or will write because it’s a call out of oppression.

My exploration essentially began in response to Julie Clawson’s article regarding women in leadership in Christianity Today’s blog. Julies voice eloquently expressed the tension and divide that exists in both women and men. It was both her courage and honesty that caught my attention.

And then my journey took me to New Mexico for the Emerging Church conference. It was at this conference that I got to experience over and over the amazing voices that are women, and the profound balance they provide to the conversation. It was in no way new, but it was fresh. I would offer that the best voices at the conference were women. But is was on woman in particular who sat next to me that I must mention. During the after conference she chose to reveal to the room what reconciliation not only sounded like but looked like. I wrote about that experience here, but I think Jeromy capture it much better in his post, “wounded image of God.”

And then Jeff McQuilkin stepped up and owned it too. He followed in Jeromy’s footsteps and sought out the forgiveness of the lost and broken female voice that we men have oppressed. It was both insightful, profound, and needed, especially because Jeff serves as a pastor. And unfortunately the church leads the way in oppressing women.

And then a friend of mine hit me with A Question of Fidelity. It was an exploration into the tension that is marriage. But it was the comment of a female friend that literally stopped me dead in my tracks. Peggy said,

I flinched a bit when you said: “The role of mother is virtually untouchable in our society, especially in a Christian context.” For so many Christian women, being a mother is the only thing that they are really empowered — overtly and covertly — to do. While that may not be the whole (actually, I’m confident it is not!) issue here, it is a part of it. If it is untouchable, the brother have to bear some of the responsibility for that, IMO.

Peggy had in no uncertain terms nailed it on the head. In subjugating and oppressing women, in limiting them to certain exclusive roles, MEN have in essence driven women to a place of defending these territories, at the expense of relationship. We are in essence creating a culture that deeply effects our own marriages, families, and social structures.

And the final straw came in Scripture. I was updated the workbooks for Thrive and was working through Genesis again. The creation account is interesting in that there is a moment when God allows Adam to first see life without the presence of Eve. And the point is to call out what was MISSING. “It is not good for man to be alone.” And then God reveals that Eve is within Adam. The whole of humanity is found in the both/and. And it hit me in a very deep way. The whole of humanity is only found in both expressions of God’s image, in the male and the female.

And when we oppress women by cutting out their voices, their participation, and their calling to leadership we have in essence cut ourselves off from the whole picture of our own humanity. We have oppressed ourselves. We are missing the half that is part of us. And again, none of this is new, but what these events did was unveil my eyes to the path to restoration and wholeness.

So today I want to call men out of their own oppression by refusing to oppress the other half of themselves: women. And I’m talking flat out refuse. This is not a call to think about it. This is a call to step up and own it as a completely different way of living, one defined by grace, invitation, and permission, not shame, rejection, and fear. The truth is we’re not even giving women permission. We’re validating the permission that God has already given to them. And this will mean owning our own history as the male half, even if we didn’t participate. It will mean seeking forgiveness with the women around us, reminding them that it is our part to redeem the oppression we have created. And in some cases, it will also mean taking on the responsibility for our neighbor, who has not yet discovered his own courage.

For those in leadership of businesses, families and churches, and especially pastors, it means taking the risk and elevating women to leadership. It means restoring the other half of not only our own image but God’s voice in our midst. And for some this is going to be a sacrificial move. You might be putting your job at risk. But I would offer you if you do it will become one of the most defining acts of your life. It will be, as a friend says, “Your William Wallace moment.” It will be the moment you stood up against oppression and said, “No more to oppression or tyranny.” I love Wallace’s own words from the movie Braveheart:

“Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you’ll live… at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin’ to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they’ll never take… OUR FREEDOM!”

Our freedom only comes when we first stop participating in the oppression of women. It is time to remove our shame. It is time to step into our own calling as men and be love in the fiercest way possible, and against the most oppressive of enemies. And our enemy is not our neighbor standing near or afar, but the lie that lures us to oppress each other. For all of us, it is time to end this oppression against women so restore not for their sake but for ours as well. And when we do we can rediscover the whole image of humanity and of God in our midst.

As Lauran mentioned, we visited another Methodist church last Sunday. We stumbled on it really when we were taking a detour a month ago in our failed attempt at attending a Quaker meeting. We drove past and noticed on the sign that the church had a female head pastor. It is also close to U of H, so we thought there might be several college students and a large amount of diversity. We were really excited to visit there.

The church is beautiful and fairly large, but there were probably no more than 50 people at the service we attended. That could be attibuted to many factors. The pastor is only going to be there for a couple more weeks, and if college students are a major part of the church, U of H had just finished its spring semester. The people there were all very friendly, including the pastoral staff. The church was predominately African American, except for the two older white couples that sat behind us and treated everyone like family. Seeing them hug everyone during the greeting was probably one of my favorite moments. The reality is that I see God so much more clearly in unexpected loving actions than I ever do in sermons and Bible studies, and on our church tour, it is moments like this that I will remember and treasure. We set out to see God at work in a variety of ways and places. This is a wonderful example, reminding me that God transcends denominations, races, and ages.

The service was beautiful. I find myself drawn to Gospel music more and more. It is a shame that more white churches don't use it more often. Maybe they would find that not only would their congregations enjoy its beauty and power, but it might also make their churches feel more welcoming to people of other races. I think most churches don't think about race enough. It is as if we are satisfied that now that Civil Rights is over, the work has been done. When the demographics of most churches look the same as they did 50 years ago, it tells me that the work of healing racism is far from over. We have an amazing opportunity to be a part of God's redemptive plan for our world if we could join Him in this.

The other amazing part of God's redemptive work that I saw came when the pastor preached her sermon. For years, I believed that it was wrong for women to preach, that it was not Biblical. I somehow ignored or explained away all the ample Biblical evidence that suggests otherwise. I am glad that God has changed my mind about the role of women in church. This woman's sermon reaffirmed for me the importance of eliminating sexism in churches. For centuries, we have denied some women the opportunity to share their gifts. Those that are gifted preachers and teachers have often been forbidden to share those gifts or only been allowed to share them with other women. Because of this misogynistic tradition, both men and women have been hurt. Now we have the opportunity once again to be a part of God's redemptive work in healing sexism.

The sermon that day was moving, and it could not have been more timely for us. It was one of those sermons when I knew God was speaking directly to me and Lauran. It was so apparent that the Holy Spirit had gifted this woman and was speaking to us through her. Her message was encouraging to us in just the way we needed. It moved Lauran to tears, and I can safely say that I have not seen many sermons do that.

This was one of the most important parts of our church tour because it reminded me of how important it is for me, as a white male, to fight both sexism and racism. My white male privilege does not shield me from the consequences of racism and sexism. Living in our safe, comfortable church bubbles does us much more damage than we realize. It has suffocated me, and I am ready for a breath of fresh air. I thank God for this glimpse of life outside the bubble.

When we began our church tour, we wanted to be sure to include congregations that were a) not predominantly white and b) include women on the pastoral staff. The experiences have made us more sure that we want to make a home in such a church.

Sunday, we visited a Methodist church pastored by an African American woman. More on our visit later; for now I want to talk about our specific experience in this service in reference to the pastor.

The church is small, so the pastor greeted us at the door when we arrived. She's a gentle, dynamic woman who extended a very warm welcome and even chatted with us for a few minutes. I loved her sermon so much, both the content and the delivery. It moved me to tears. She preached the truth of God's provision and the reality of miracles, both large and small.

It made me grieve for women with pastoral gifts who have been excluded from church leadership simply because of their gender. This pastor does an amazing job and is clearly following God's calling as she shepherds and inspires her congregation.

In the words of Janet George in Still Side by Side: A Concise Explanation of Biblical Equality, "If we are to err, let us not err on the side of restricting the work of God. Let us encourage the entire body of Christ to exercise all the gifts, for the whole world. The needs are great, and God knows…everyone is needed!"

We are our own worst critics, the saying goes. I am notoriously hard on myself, possessing somewhat impossible expectations of who I am to be. I am a perfectionist and therefore a procrastinator (waiting until the last minute to do things so if they aren't perfect I have an excuse). And I continually berate myself for things left undone.

Even as a kid, I remember crying over grades and Bible verses I failed to memorize and unmade beds. My leadership qualities emerged early and I often felt so equipped for every position that I never turned anything down. I have a pattern of full speed to burnout, then isolation, then the whole thing over again.

I've loosened up quite a bit--now I organize but allow some clutter, write several drafts but stop before they are "final," and postpone tasks in favor of quality time. I am much less concerned with details. I have better boundaries and feel much more free to say no. I have lowered my expectations in a healthy way.

But these nagging feelings of never measuring up to my own standards still haunt me daily. I often calculate the worth of a day based on my productivity, not on the experience of it. I chronically compare myself to others, in what I call "reverse people pleasing"--that is, guessing what others expect or me and trying to live up to it. I have such grand dreams that when I encounter small failures I fear the dreams will never materialize in any form.

Today was one of those days when I felt at peace not doing everything. I felt alright just accomplishing what I did, enjoying the sunshine as I walked from place to place. Then tonight I crashed, I quickly came to the end of my rope, when the simple tasks I attempted felt so impossible. I found several reasons to label myself inferior.

And now I'm letting it go, choosing to let Christ's unconditional love be the standard by which I measure anything, including myself. "I am enough, I have enough, I do enough," goes the affirmation. I believe it's true, I just need some convincing sometimes.

There's a park a few blocks from our home that I didn't notice for almost a year. I drive by it frequently, bike by it, walk by it, but it's so small I never saw it. I don't remember what finally caught my eye, but Eric and I walked there with Morgan a few weeks ago to check it out. It is seriously tiny, tucked between a long string of residential houses and centered around a beautiful oak tree. It's named after a woman called Peggy, which happens to be my grandmother's name. I have devised several possible storylines for the origins of this little park.

1) Peggy was a Houston conservationist on the board of the Hermann Park Conservancy at one time. She dedicated her community service to the preservation of green space in the city, and, in a gesture of good will, donated part of her land as a park.

2) Peggy and her husband fell in love under the oak tree. She was a free spirit who proved him wrong when he teased that she could not climb to the top. Back on the ground, he confessed his true feelings for her, and kissed her softly. Six months later he was drafted for service in the War, and their reverend conducted a small marriage ceremony under the tree. On the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary, he bought the land and established a park.

3) Peggy lived in the house adjacent to the small plot for most of her life. She never had children of her own, but housed several foster children and homeless mothers. She also held a weekly story hour on a blanket in the grass, where neighborhood children gathered in Saturday morning. When she died of illness, the neighbors took up a collection to honor her by the dedication of the park.

I'm continually formulating these stories, because I love the mystery. I could google her name, but I don't want to ruin it.

Yes, I still like cartoon movies on occasion. I never miss a Pixar flick and Dreamworks usually aren't bad. Eric got a surprise day off work due to some crazy flash floods in Houston, so I took a half day and we went to the movies. Monsters v. Aliens offers a female alt-hero that we got excited about, teaching kids (ok, and adults) about the importance of individual destiny.

The movie begins on Susan's wedding day, as she converses with her groom before the ceremony about his news career. She seems happy to be subsumed into his job and pretends not to care he's canceled their honeymoon for a job interview. Enter giant meteor that turns her into a giant monster and lands her in a maximum security government Area 51. When an alien robot threatens San Francisco, the feds agree to let the monsters out, and they save the city. Susan gets to see Derek, her fiance, who tells her he can't live in her shadow and finds her new success and fame quite annoying. After everyone falls in love with her, mostly because she saves the earth, Derek tries to win her back, hoping an interview with her will land him a job in NY. She tells him to take a hike, revels in her new found gifts, and embraces her destiny with new friends.

I'm glad to see these heroines have grown a little depth. I remember some pseudo-feminist characters in Disney movies like Beauty and the Beast or Little Mermaid, but when you get right down to it they are all just doing whatever they can to get a man (or doing great things until they get a man). Even Mulan has to pretend to be a man to get anywhere in life, and the movie ends with her suitor staying for dinner (FYI the original Chinese story ends with her getting married and staying home). The underlying message is always no matter how extraordinary or independent you are, you need a man.

You all know I'm pro at-home moms, but I have an issue with the way most people talk about them. It's as if being a full-time mom is merely a support role to the husband. I believe moms who choose this life are fulfilling an individual calling and participating in the shared destiny of parenting. I guess that's really a separate rant, but suffice it to say little ones need some heroes that stick up for themselves and break societal norms when they are oppressive. The damsel in distress model doesn't help anyone, including and perhaps especially men. So, good for Reese Witherspoon for lending her vocal talents to Susan, the unlikely feminist super-monster.

We started this church tour hoping to see God at work in denominations that were unfamiliar to us, like Mennonite and Greek Orthodox, but along the way, we have visited a few churches in more familiar denominations. One of the most prominent of these has been Methodist. Of all the mainline denominations, Methodist seems the best fit for us for a variety of reasons. However, I spent four years in college going to a Methodist church that right now would not be a good fit for me even though I love the people from my college group. Still, we have learned something very important about Christianity on this tour. There are easily over 100 different denominations and subdenominations in the Christian church, but even among the smallest denominations, there is great variety from church to church. I actually both love and fear this about Christianity. I fear that there is too much arbitrary division over ridiculous issues, but I see that even within those division, God works to shape individual churches toward unique callings just as he does to individual people. While most churches within a denomination share the same basic core beliefs, it is amazing to see the diversity within these denominations, the different worship styles and demographics, the different doctrinal emphases, and the different programs.

We have visited two different local Methodist churches in the last few months, and both of them were completely different.

The first one we visited was a small church in the Heights. We chose it had a female lead pastor (with a hyphenated name), and we had only been to one church so far with a female leader. Unfortunately, she was gone the day we went, but the lay leaders who led in her place were great. We went to a traditional service. When I was in college, I always attended a contemporary service. I don't think I had ever been to a traditional Methodist service. Some things were the same, like the attendance sheets that you pass down the row. Isn't it funny how every denomination has these quirky unique things like this. The traditional worship was beautiful. The building was stone with stained glass, simple but elegant. Those adjectives would also describe the choir. I think that is what I liked most about this church. It was simple and elegant. I have been to many traditional services that are beautiful, but stuffy. I was refreshed to see such beauty without all the airs. When we got home later that day, the church had already sent us a flower pot with a welcoming note. I can safely say that Methodists have been by far the most welcoming denomination in general for us. There is not even a close second.

The other church we visited was a church down in Third Ward that was started as a slave church for the congregants of First Methodist in Houston. We were drawn to its unique heritage and its work toward racial and gender reconciliation. We loved the Gospel music. We also loved the sermon, with its captivating and participatory delivery style. More than anything, we loved how welcome we felt. I think at least 75% of the church came to greet us during the welcoming time in the service. The pastor asked us to stand and introduce ourselves, and then he informed us that we could stop searching because we had found our home. After the service, several people talked to us. One woman remebered seeing us a few times at the grocery store, and sure enough, after the service, she saw us there again and called out to us by name. It was really a moving experience. Our last church really emphasizes community, but I am not sure that white middle class people like myself really understand community. We commune well with people that are similar to us, but we have no idea how to form families with strangers, how to create a community that is larger than 10 or 12 people. This church was large, but it felt like a huge family that was excited to include us. They spent time sharing each other's burdens and accomplishments during the service. The pastor knew everyone's business. Everyone knew everyone's business. One thing this confiremed for us is that we don't want to go to end up in a church that is all or mostly white people. God has too much to teach us through our brothers and sisters of other races, nationalities, and cultures. This issue has been important to both of us in our jobs and academic lives, but it has sadly not been as much of a priority in our spiritual lives. We want to change that.

There is still another Methodist church on our list. We will probably visit there in a couple of weeks. Next up is another Presbyterian church, and eventually we will make it to the Quaker meeting down in Friendswood.