Beth Allison Barr’s “Making of Biblical Womanhood”–A Book Analysis Series (Part 5): Conclusion

We now come to what should be my final post in this series. After briefly looking at Barr’s final two chapters in her book, I want to share some of my own thoughts on the issue of women’s positions in the Church.

Chapter 7: Making Biblical Womanhood Gospel Truth
In chapter 7, Barr hammers home the fundamental points she has been making throughout her book: (1) Women in the past had been honored and accepted as ministers of the Gospel; (2) The teaching that women must be submissive and subordinate to men is a relatively new thing; and (3) Despite the more elevated positions women in the past have had throughout Church history, there was still patriarchy that kept them down to some extent.

To make this case, Barr discusses Mrs. Lewis Ball, a female revival preacher in the 1930s who (shocker of shockers) was allowed to preach in Baptist churches. She then points out that in 1963, the Southern Baptist Convention ordained Addie Davis, and in 1974 it sponsored a conference affirming women’s role in ministry. The affirmation of women’s calling as public ministers also happened in Calvinistic circles as well. Apparently, not only were women allowed to preach and teach in the medieval period, but they were also doing so in early 20th century Baptist and Calvinist circles too.

The big change, Barr argues, happened shortly after those early years in the 20th century, and was connected to the Fundamentalist fight for biblical inerrancy (“the belief that the Bible is completely without error, including in areas of science and history”) (188). That fight ended up Christians in America into two factions: “liberal” and “conservative.”

Barr argues, “The early twentieth-century emphasis on inerrancy went hand in hand with a wide-ranging attempt to build up the authority of male preachers at the expense of women” (189). She goes on to refer to Kristen Kobes Du Mez’s work on this subject and concludes that the “evangelical fight for inerrancy was inextricably linked with gender from the beginning” (191) and was used to push women out of the pulpit.

Now, I would say that the “battle for inerrancy” was foremost a pushback against the modernism and liberalism in the late 19th-early 20th centuries, and not necessarily about “trying to keep women down.” The original Fundamentalists who argued for “inerrancy” fighting against the liberal claims that science was proving that the Bible was historically unreliable. Yes, as Barr shows, that concept of “inerrancy” was later used to argue for women’s subordination to men, but as Barr herself shows with the examples of early 20th century women preachers, even in Baptist circles, the original focus of “inerrancy” was not a concentrated effort to subjugate women. So, when she says that “inerrancy creates an atmosphere of fear,” I think it would be more accurate to say that inerrancy, in the way it has now come to be used, creates an atmosphere of fear. I simply do not think that the original crafting of the concept of “biblical inerrancy” in the early 20th century was done in order to “keep women down.”

One very interesting observation Barr makes in this chapter is how these more recent inerrantist-Fundamentalists have rooted their claims of women’s submission to men in a blatantly heretical claim, namely the eternal subordination of the Son to the Father. Long story short, men like Owen Strachan has said that the submission of women to men is grounded in the “relationship of authority and submission in the nature of the Trinity” (193). Basically, women are to be subordinate to men, just like the Son is eternally subordinate to the Father.

The only problem with that notion is that the teaching that the Son is eternally subordinate—and not equal—to the Father is flat-out Arianism. I couldn’t help but notice how Barr’s situation with this topic is eerily similar to what my situation with young earth creationism was. In both cases, jobs were lost over the given issue, in both cases, the hurt gave rise to the writing of a book, and in both cases, we saw that the “group” who hurt us had rooted its view in something we both connected to Arianism! On top of that, Barr points out that although men like Piper and Keller don’t say complementarianism is necessary for salvation, they do say “it is a very important aspect of the gospel and is necessary to protect a proper understanding of the gospel” (199). Again, that is eerily similar to what young earth creationists say about their claims regarding the age of the earth—“It’s not a gospel issue….but….it’s sorta a gospel issue!”

Chapter 8: Isn’t It Time to Set Women Free?
In the concluding chapter, Barr first tells another personal story about an abusive relationship with a boyfriend she had back before she was married, when she (and many other Evangelical Christians) was influenced by the teaching of Bill Gothard. That experience, she says, along with her husband’s firing, proved to be the two main things that have shaped her opinion about complementarianism now.

She ends her book by stating that Christian patriarchy “was built, stone by stone, throughout the centuries” (205). Again, she refers to Kristen Kobes Du Mez in her criticism of “the conservative church model of authoritarian leaders,” namely how it fosters a “culture of abuse”—patriarchy and submission, sex and power. Barr concludes by stating, “Complementarianism [“biblical womanhood”] is patriarchy, and patriarchy is about power. Neither have ever been about Jesus” (218).

My Concluding Thoughts
Ultimately, I think Barr’s criticism of the modern “biblical manhood and womanhood” movement within many conservative Evangelical churches of the 20th-21st century is, sadly, spot on. Nowhere in the Bible does it say God created women to meekly submit and follow men, simply because they were women. And it is also clear in the Bible that in the early Church there were women leaders in some capacity. And, as Barr points out, throughout most of Church history (especially in the medieval age) there were women teachers and leaders within the church structure—positions like abbesses, nuns, etc. The teaching that women were created to be solely meek homemakers is a distinctly modern, and largely Protestant/Evangelical phenomenon.

That being said, I think she tends to project this modern Evangelical view of women onto Christianity history as a whole. That’s not to say there hasn’t always been your share of misogynistic views about women throughout Church history, but to basically say, “The Church as always been abusive and patriarchal toward women” is problematic. As she herself clearly shows, throughout the medieval age there were plenty of influential women within the Catholic Church—the same holds true for the Orthodox Church and the entirety of Church history.

I think one of the problems within Protestantism/Evangelicalism is that by getting rid of the historical Church structure regarding priests, monks, nuns, etc., it has obliterated the religious positions within the Church structure that allowed women to participate and use their gifts. The same goes for men, for the most part. In the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, there are religious orders available to both men and women. In Protestant churches, though, outside of being a pastor at your church, there isn’t much available—other than teaching Sunday School or becoming a missionary.

Pastoral Positions as Power Plays
More importantly, another problem I think Barr’s book alludes to (although she doesn’t directly address it) is just how people tend to view “Christian leadership” in the first place—namely a position of power and “being in authority.” It is something I’ve always noticed in most churches—the head pastor is “in charge,” etc. Now, a big part of Barr’s book is that is what is wrong with “Christian patriarchy.” But it seems that she isn’t so much criticizing that mindset of “being in authority” as she is saying, “Women should be in those powerful positions too.” The problem, as far as I see it, isn’t so much that women aren’t allowed to get those “positions of power,” but rather how the role of priest, bishop, or pastor has come to be regarded as a “position of power” in the first place.

To the point, when one looks at how Paul addresses men and women within the household codes of Roman patriarchy, one should realize that he’s not trying to dismantle Roman patriarchy, but he is essentially telling Christians that if they have the mindset of Christ, that that formal patriarchal system is simply irrelevant within the Church. I think that holds true, not just in marriages, but within the larger Church structure as a whole. And I’ll take it one step further: if your focus is, “Who gets to be in charge? Who gets to have the power and authority?”—then I think that mentality is a reflection of the result of Adam and Eve’s fall, not so much “patriarchy,” but rather a “battle of the sexes” in which (as Genesis 3:16 states) the result of that “battle” is…yep, patriarchy. Simply put, the patriarchy we see today (not just in America, but throughout history) is a symptom of a deeper problem.

Therefore, what Paul does in those household codes is put the whole “quest for power” off to the side and show how the world’s concept of “power” is (or should be) irrelevant in the Church. That’s not always the case, of course—hence the reason for Barr’s book. And what we’re seeing in today’s Evangelical church, it seems is that when men claim God ordained them for those “positions of power,” that often leads to the subjugation of women; but we must make sure that in response that women don’t accept that same mentality and start fighting for those “positions of power” themselves, because that’s basically the same problem.

The Culture War
There is one other issue that is related to the issue of women’s roles in the church. Like it or not, that debate often is roped into the larger “culture war”—and both “liberals” and “conservatives” are guilty of pushing their own agendas. Let’s be honest—one of the reasons many conservatives push back against the notion of women in leadership is because they see that in the churches that do have women pastors/priests, a whole lot of other traditional teachings get changed as well. Take for example this video from an ELCA Lutheran church, where they have re-written the traditional Apostles’ Creed into their own “Sparkle Creed,” where they begin with, “I believe in a non-binary God whose pronouns are plural.”

I’m sorry, excuse me while I throw up a little. If you’re changing the Apostles’ Creed, there is something really wrong, regardless if you’re a man or a woman. But my point is this: if you argue for women being allowed to teach and preach in church, that is totally fine…and biblical…and rooted in Church history. But don’t let that legitimate issue be co-opted by some flat-out insane practices and teachings that all Christians—be they conservative or liberal—should be horrified by. In short, arguing for women to teach and preach = GOOD. Things like the “Sparkle Creed” = BAD.

Men, Women, and Priests in Orthodoxy and Church History
I want to conclude by sharing something I’ve realized over the past couple of weeks since I’ve started writing this series. As I alluded to in one of my earlier posts, although there is ample evidence that there were women leaders in the early Church and all through up to the modern period, and although it is clear that the “biblical manhood and womanhood” movement is a largely new, Evangelical phenomenon, historically speaking, there really isn’t any evidence whatsoever that there were women priests or bishops at any time in the early Church. Therefore, the claim that men tried to push women out of leadership roles is only true to an extent. Simply put, yes, there were women teachers, deacons, etc. But there never were women priests or bishops.

Now, why is that? Now that I’m Orthodox, it was explained to me that the reason why there are only male priests is that a priest’s primary duty is to officiate the Divine Liturgy, and (at the risk of being too simplistic) the Divine Liturgy is essentially a re-enactment of the Last Supper, where the congregation partakes of the bread and wine/body and blood of Christ, along with the apostles and the full body of Christ. Therefore, the priest is in the role of Christ, and Christ was a man. The priest is not “better” because he is a man; that doesn’t mean men “have authority” over women. It means the priest represents Christ in the Divine Liturgy. Call me old-fashioned, but if that is the way it has always been, I’m not on board with changing that.

That being said, when it comes to the question of women teachers and pastors in Protestant churches, I personally have no problem with it. Why? Sorry if this offends anyone, but I’ve come to see Protestant/Evangelical churches more or less as “parachurch organizations.” They don’t practice the Church Tradition and practice that has been there from the beginning of the Church anyway. And Evangelical pastors are not Orthodox priests—whether you are a man or a woman, if that’s your gift, teach and preach away. That’s my two cents.

One final observation. Last week as I sat in the Divine Liturgy, I was looking at all the icons painted on the walls of my church. I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. All throughout the church, there were icons of both men and women, laid out in a perfectly symmetrical fashion. On one panel, there were icons of four male saints, with two smaller icons of women above them. Then on the next panel, there were icons of four female saints, with two smaller icons of men above them. The pattern continues on both side walls. And then behind the altar, there is a giant icon of Mary the Theotokos and the Christ child, where Mary is essentially drawing people’s attention to Christ—she, if you will, is proclaiming Christ.

What struck me noticing all that is that in my Orthodox Church, as clearly displayed everything, women and men are displayed on equal footing, because we are all one in Christ. The whole question of, “Who gets the positions of power?” isn’t brought up because the idea of there even being a “position of power” isn’t there in the first place. It’s not an issue. We might give the priest honor, not because “he’s a man,” but because he is representing Christ. In the Liturgy itself, there is the honoring of Mary as well. Simply put, there isn’t any hint of there being any kind of “battle of the sexes” in the Divine Liturgy. That’s how it should be.

Women, as well as men, should be free to exercise their Spiritual gifts within the Church—that should be obvious. At the same time, I think there is something very good about holding firm to the Tradition and Church structure handed down to us from the time of the early Church. I think the whole fight over complementarianism vs. egalitarianism within so many Protestant/Evangelical churches is a consequence of losing touch with the Church Tradition. And it’s something that, if you’re a Protestant and/or Evangelical, you and your church is going to have to work through.

Overall, Barr’s book is a much-needed voice that speaks out against a very real problem in many Evangelical churches. As I’ve pointed out in my series, there are a couple of specific things I find problematic, but the fact is her basic argument is valid. Any church that draws lines regarding “men being ordained leaders” and “women being submissive followers—now shut up, go make babies, and make me a ham sandwich!”—that church has a major problem.

I’d go so far to say that extreme mentality probably is just a damaging as the “Sparkle Creed.”

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