As the church grew and we, of necessity, had multiple leaders it was difficult to find people who were on exactly the same page. After one of the Elder’s meetings I did as I usually do, ran things by my wife when I got home. There wasn’t anything secretive but somehow it got back to an elder who was quite opposed to women in leadership, and he brought the matter up at the next meeting. He insisted that Elder’s meetings were private affairs and that our decisions were not up for discussion, even at home. Up to that time we were encouraging the leaders and wives to meet together socially so that the wives could feel included in their husband’s role within the life of the church. Anyway, here was one of those moments when I was momentarily persuaded to do things differently. I would not discuss church matters with my wife at all. Church business would be just that, business! Business that had nothing to do with my wife. I found myself behaving most unnaturally and very much against the way that we previously related. It was incredibly uncomfortable and hurtful for both of us. The experience lasted a week, but sadly I was ‘momentarily persuaded.’ I need to add here that we (LIz and I) are both gifted to lead so denying my wife  an awareness of what was going on in a ministry that we both shared (at that time unofficially) was potentially disastrous for us as a couple.

Eventually that elder moved on and we were able to encourage the church to embrace both Liz and I as being involved in ministry together.

Another time when I was ‘momentarily persuaded’ was immediately during and after a combined church camp where the speaker addressed the issue of family life. He spoke very convincingly of the husband’s role as an initiator and the wife as a responder. Using illustrations from his perception of the creation order and, what I consider now to be rather crude expressions of sexual function, he insisted that this is how order within marriage should be established and maintained. It was many, many years ago but I came away from that camp thinking that perhaps I should put this concept of marriage and family into practice. Suffice to say that that experiment barely lasted the week, but I was, ‘momentarily persuaded,’ mostly because we didn’t have the tools to refute such strong, passionately presented and persistent arguments.

Thankfully now, through the ministry and materials of CBE, we are much more aware and equipped to stand up for what we know to be true and have been able to bring others on the journey. Perhaps others of you out there have had similar experiences in your own journey and have at times, like me, been momentarily persuaded to go with the flow of a convincing counter argument.

In the middle of corporate worship recently, a tune came along in which one group led and another followed.  You know, one of those echo deals.  About halfway through the song I realized I was belting it out with the “wrong” group.  Apparently men were supposed to lead, women follow.  Oops.

My tuneful gusto drew more than a few dark looks.  The experience got me thinking: What does the “men lead out, women echo” tune paradigm tell us about gender roles in worship?  Should gender roles exist in worship?

While we’re on the subject, what is worship, anyway?  Responses vary.  Yea verily, it would take an entire book to adequately parse that subject.  Briefly, the English word “worship” comes from two Old English words: weorth, which means “worth,” and scipe or ship, which means something like shape or “quality.”   Thus, “worth-ship” is the quality of having worth or of being worthy to declare or attribute worth.  Synonyms include adoration, love, reverence, veneration, respect and adulation.  It can include kneeling, bowing down, a willingness to obey and serve. In biblical terms, worship means honoring and acknowledging God for who He is.  (For more, see What is Worship? A Survey of Scripture.)

Christians are called to worship God: “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9).  Worship shouldn’t be another item to mindlessly mark off a Sunday morning ‘To Do’ list.  It is an immense joy, a privilege beyond words.  Worship should infuse every aspect of my being and daily life.  Declaring that God is worthy and loving Him with my whole being – heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30) – is part of who I am as a Christian.  So why were some trying to shut up my worship because I inadvertently upset their gender apple cart?

I later wondered, why aren’t women asked to “lead out” in an “echo” song?  (Maybe they are elsewhere; I’ve just never seen it in the context in question.)  Is it because they’re not loud enough?  Enthusiastic enough?  Spiritually immature?  Lacking in gifting or calling?  Does Scripture indicate that only men are worship vanguards, or that leading worship is a testosterone-only zone?  Does God prefer tenors or baritones to sopranos or altos?  Are female worship expressions secondary or subservient, dependent upon male initiative?  Is there something inherently amiss with placing gender above worship from the heart, and doesn’t doing so miss the point?

On Friday, three women were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for their commitment to women’s rights. Two of those women, President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf and Leymah Gbowee, were from Liberia, the country I called home for most of my elementary school years.

I haven’t stopped grinning since I heard the news. See, it was in Liberia that I first witnessed the true ugliness of gender injustice, first understood that a tiny seed of pride and superiority dropped into the heart of a man would blossom not into a sheltering tree, but into an ugly, invasive weed that choked the life out of everything around it.

My “Damascus road” experience happened when I was nine years old, peering out the window of our second-story apartment in Monrovia. Just outside our gate, a woman was curled up on her side under a palm tree, worn tee-shirt stretched thin across her torso as she shielded her head with her dusty black arms, her lappa-clad knees tucked close to her chest. The man kicking her wore camouflage, and had a government-issued machine gun slung over his shoulder.

I was horrified. It wasn’t that I hadn’t witnessed beatings before—to the contrary, they were common in Liberia. But this was different, an armed man beating a helpless, cringing women. And I had heard the whispers, the muted conversations adults thought I was too young to understand, about what men with guns did to women.

I heard my father approaching and froze, expecting to be shooed away from the window.  But he stopped a few steps behind me and just stood there, watching the scene unfold over my head. Then he sighed, turned, and walked away without a word.

The tectonic plates in my young soul shifted. For the first time, I realized there were some things my father, the strong, sensible, white American male, couldn’t fix. That if he went out there and did what every fiber of his being was undoubtedly screaming to do, he would only make things worse. To rush into the street and put himself between a murderous mob and a thief was one thing, and he did it on a regular basis. But to put himself between a man and a woman would constitute such an insult that the woman could very well end up dead.

That’s when I realized that violence against women isn’t a social problem; it is a spiritual problem, a highly-contagious disease that eats away at the hearts, souls, minds and bodies of humanity. You can’t address the problem by treating the symptoms—you have to go deep under the surface and neutralize it at its root, that tiny seed of pride, disdain, bitterness, and superiority allowed to germinate in the soul.

That is precisely what the women of Liberia have been doing for the last decade, recognizing their God-given worth, claiming their voices, and banding together to demand not just national but personal shalom, for themselves and the next generation. Consider the words Leymah Gbowee of as she led hundreds of women to the capital of Liberia in 2003. “We the women of Liberia will no more allow ourselves to be raped, abused, misused, maimed and killed! Our children and grandchildren will not be used as killing machines and sex slaves!”

Liberia still has a long way to go. We all do. But where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom, and this hope makes us very bold.

For years, I learned a way of silence. In the churches I grew up in, there were no female leaders. Women could participate in other ways such as Sunday school teachers, secretaries, or wives. I could never figure out why women were allowed to teach youth— the most impressionable time in an individual’s life—but were denied the opportunity to speak to their peers. I spent a year at a small conservative college that would not allow women to be the main speakers in the chapel services. Once, when a woman was behind the pulpit, several of the male faculty got up and left. I felt, as a woman, my voice must somehow be lesser—less loud, less valid, less true. These messages saturated my life. Gradually, I felt like my words deserted me. I was never sure of the “appropriate” time to speak.

A couple years ago, during a time of deep sadness and loss, a friend suggested I go out by myself and just yell my frustrations. I found an open spot, centered my body, and lifted my voice. I was startled by the sound of my own voice, rising upward towards the sky. I remember thinking it sounded powerful. Through the years, God has taught me that the time for silence is over. Women need to learn the power and validity of their voices. Women have been given voices as instruments that God intends for them to use—not in anger, but with the grace and dignity with which Jesus spoke. When I look through the pages of Scripture, I see that the words of women and men throughout history have been beautiful gifts from God. It is time we remember that our voices carry weight, that we hold truth from God on our tongues. The world needs to hear from us. It’s time all God’s children start using their “outside” voices.

Josiah saw it immediately.  I was a little slower.  I looked over the program which included a welcome, invocation, pledge of allegiance, six patriotic songs, nine prayers, a video clip and three mini-sermons by area pastors.  The 90-minute service included seventeen separate elements and twenty different speakers or presenters.  Nineteen were male.  The one exception was the Benediction.   Even the Chilean Evangelist who prayed for the “peoples of the nations of the world” was male.

As fine an idea as a 9/11 remembrance service was, and as stirring as the tributes and music may have been, it felt… incomplete.   The “estrogen-free zone” nature of the event left me feeling as if something valuable and precious had been muted.  Overlooked. Lost. Conspicuous by their absence, that “something” was women.

I wondered why the ministers’ fellowship and event organizers couldn’t find at least one mother, wife, daughter, sister, grandmother, or niece to pray, lead a song, share a personal anecdote or vignette, preach, or tell a story – or if anyone even tried?  I wondered about the female first responders, firefighters, and military personnel who were left unrepresented at this “remembrance” event, and when they might be honored for their sacrifice and courage?  Also when the strength, resolve and resilience of the brave mothers, widows, girl friends and daughters who were left behind to continue their lives without loved ones will be acknowledged?

As Josiah and I wended our way back to the car after the service, I wondered how much more compelling the event may have been if gender representation was at least a little closer to parity, and how sad it was that the community missed out on something worthy, unique and significant: a woman’s perspective of 9/11.

“Where are the women?” indeed.

My own experience was one of intolerance and abuse in my home until the death of my husband. The Bible tells us that God heals the brokenhearted, and of course I prayed for healing. But healing doesn’t always come with someone’s emphatic prayer or a little dab of oil on your forehead. For me, the single most significant turning point was one morning when our pastor spoke on the marriage relationship, describing how it is for companionship and care and protection of one another. A great sorrow swept over me and I thought, “Oh, just look at what I’ve missed, what I’m now never going to have!” And God spoke in my heart, as clearly as if He had said it out loud, “You have been so hurt and disappointed that you have forgotten how strong and sufficient I was for you in the 37 years you were single.” That changed my outlook completely, because from that day until now I have tried to turn my attention to new ways of remembering how faithful God was to me for so many years . I choose to turn the pain into something positive. This is a very real thing to me, not just another slick way of learning to cope. I choose to think this way. It is an intentional decision.

When I recall, “We were sitting in this very restaurant when Dennis [not his real name] got angry and stomped out.” Then I say, “But oh, Lord, I am grateful that You are so patient. You have never threatened to leave me.”

“Here were all these lies, a whole web of deceit in Dennis’s life. But God, You are the Faithful One! You are always reliable, perfect in your trustworthiness.”

“So much scorn was heaped on me. But You, Lord, have always treated me with respect. You have led me through difficult circumstances sometimes, but You have never tried to humiliate me.”

And so on through every painful memory. “Lord, You are the perfect Giver. Thank You for giving to me everything pertaining to life and godliness, not for what You might get in return, but out of Your love for me!”

“God, You are not one who wields the control that bars my humanity. You are in control because You are God, but You don’t rule Your obedient child with a harsh rod. Thank You!

“I thank You for Your love that is pure, untainted by unrighteous motives. You have nothing to prove about Yourself. And you have no need to make me prove something!”

“God, You are not fickle and changing. With You there is no shadow of turning. Thank You that I never have to question your continued love and loyalty.”

“Lord, Your words are sweet when You speak to me! Even when You correct me, I feel Your love lifting me to a better place.”

“God, I love Your sense of humor! It is so gentle. You don’t laugh when people are put down and you never make light of life’s issues. Thank You!

“Lord, You did not choose comfort, but the way of the Cross. I am so grateful that You did not choose ease but sacrifice.”’

“God, You know who You are, the great I AM. You know who I am. And You are letting me learn who we are! Thank You, thank You!”

This has changed not only my response to sad memories, but it has also given me a better understanding of God the Father and a closer relationship with Him. The Scripture even talks about Him being the husband of the forsaken, and that is a beautiful thought to hold onto if one has been hurt and disappointed. While I thought God’s intention was for my marriage to be for my joy and blessing, I think it’s entirely possible that the deeper understanding and relationship with God that I now enjoy is what He most desired. I thought that Dennis and I would have this beautiful marriage and grow old together. This was supposed to be the best part of our lives. I think that is what could have and should have happened, so my experience has been one of terrible disappointment. There is sorrow for myself, of course, but for God too, that He didn’t get to see His plan worked out as He intended. God is God, but I think He still does not always get what He most wishes because He lets us make choices. Sadly, we sometimes do not co-operate with Him in what is one of life’s greatest shared adventures!

Suffice it to say, this same thing happened when my suspicions were confirmed about God’s love for equality. For many years, I had been so conflicted because of what I thought the Scriptures taught about men and women. I feared that if such a hierarchy were true, then an incongruous nature about God was being revealed, and that greatly troubled me. But it wasn’t true. It really is for freedom that Christ has set us free (Gal 5:1), and the freeing nature of the truth overwhelmed me so much, I wanted to tell everyone about it. What I saw and understood was such great news, I was sure everyone would thank me for it once they really understood what those passages of Scripture really mean and how Jesus really views women. If only I could explain it clearly enough so that they could understand! My persistent excitement and eagerness to bring freedom dribbled down into an excess of obnoxious argumentation. Rather than helping people understand, I found myself offending, instead. I lost a few friends in the process and was so disheartened by it that I was effectually silenced.

Something I learned after I had walked with Jesus for a few years is that if you live out the gospel, then skeptics will eventually inquire about and welcome your good news. The proof is in the pudding.

Recently, I found myself worshiping next to an old friend who grew up in a church with a strong hierarchical stance in the church and in the home. I have never had any biblical or theological debate with him about biblical equality, but I assume that he thinks that the office of the pastor is for men and not women and that the head of the household is the man. I don’t think these beliefs are based on any conscious biblical investigation but exist simply because these ideas are the bedrock of his church culture. But that day, he chose to be at our church, and, coincidentally, that day, our woman pastor was preaching. Sitting next to him, I heard him laugh at her jokes and could tell that he was listening attentively. Discussion about the sermon later confirmed that he had indeed learned from her — a woman.

This is when I realized something I should’ve known all along. I’ve been saying all these years that it didn’t make sense why revelation from God spoken out of a woman’s mouth would be nullified simply because she was a woman. If children can learn from a woman, and other women can learn from a woman, why couldn’t men? Truth is truth no matter who speaks it. But this time I didn’t have to argue it. It just happened in real time. A man learned from a woman (how revolutionary is that!). And it dawned on me that perhaps that is how this revolution will really take place — not solely and primarily through arguments and debates (although there is a time for explaining and theologizing) but — by living out the gospel of equality. If it is really true, then it will stand the test of time and prevail. It will prevail! And I’m looking forward to that day.

By the time the first people came through the doors, there were already over 220 names registered and the steady stream of eager people was so heartening to see as the time for the first meeting approached. A perceptible feeling of anticipation could be felt as folks chatted over cups of tea and coffee, meeting new and old friends and the common question of “Well, what brings you to this conference?” Africa, New Zealand, Asia and America were represented as well as Australians from several states.

The first meeting for the conference included a welcoming address from General Eva Burrows (retired) from the Salvation Army in Melbourne who was so inspiring and exemplified what one dedicated woman could achieve for God. We also were amazed by a dramatised reading of John chapter 4 by Rob Turnbull ………very powerful to hear the story of the “Woman at the Well” read aloud. Graham Cole gave the keynote address on the biblical ideal of “Better Together” which is the theme of the conference.

By the time the first session began today, the crowd had grown and it was to a packed room that Funmi Para-Mallam spoke on “Women and girls in Africa: Issues, challenges and ministry strategies” We heard the history of women in Africa and how the religious culture maintains the oppression of women in both subtle and overt ways. Funmi is actively involved in interventions to bring about gender equality in her country which is also experiencing great persecution and bloodshed.

From the outset, we could see that this conference would be looking at the issue of Biblical Equality from three perspectives….

*The biblical and theological framework for equality

*Gender in the Australian church and culture

*Equality and justice on the global scene

During the day we had opportunity to attend three electives within these three streams and the general consensus was that there was never enough time to fully discuss the issues and share experiences.

The conference dinner  featured the presentation of awards to three students whose papers on biblical equality had been chosen from  a large number of entries. These papers can be read on the Australian CBE website www.cbe.org.au The speaker for the evening was Jessie Taylor, a young woman who has a passion for social justice and is particularly concerned with the plight of refugees. Photos taken at some risk in detention camps gave occasion for us to see ‘refugees’ as real families and particularly the pain of parents as they mourn the loss of ability to provide for and protect their children. Again, we were reminded that biblical equality is concerned with far more than the sanctioning of women in the pulpit.

As people shared their last cup of tea or coffee before going their separate ways for the night, there was already conversation about the next CBE conference to be held in Australia – such was the enthusiasm. We are only half-way through this experience as it is a long weekend here in the state of Victoria so we’ll write another report on Monday afternoon after several more workshops and challenging keynote speakers.

In this Australian conference there has been a strong emphasis on justice issues both locally and on the world scene. The organisers of this weekend, were determined that the subject matter would be far broader than just the ordination of women. The perception is often expressed that because there are now many ordained women in some denominations, the whole gender equality issue is ‘done and dusted’ Through the variety of group discussions, this aim was certainly achieved. Topics ranged from what it means to be a young woman in Australian church culture to how we can help women to feed their families in Afghanistan; from how churches welcome people with disabilities  to helping women who are suffering abuse in Christian homes.

Overload was an oft-repeated word as delegates moved through three workshops and at least one plenary session each day. The morning and afternoon tea times went all too quickly and conversations had to hang in the air while we rushed off to the next session.  With so much information and interaction, surely the cause for biblical equality will benefit enormously and each participant will take away a lot of literature and new information to encourage them to ‘not grow weary in well-doing’

There are recordings available for most of the conference sessions and these can be ordered through the Australian website mentioned earlier. Kevin Giles wrote a study book for release over this weekend and every delegate received a free copy of “Better Together” – they sell for $14.95 AUS and can also be ordered from the website. Attendees from Victoria were encouraged to join the CBE chapter and folks from other states and New Zealand are now considering beginning chapters among their  friends and colleagues.

Our final session  was one of the highlights as Cheryl Catford spoke on “Riding the Third Wave” Biblical Equality in the Twenty-First Century”.

After giving an excellent summary of the first and second waves of feminism, we were made aware of what is typical of a young woman’s expectation now. This pointed up how we as Christians have been so influenced by the culture around us through magazines, TV and the media and trying to assimilate this with biblical equality has caused a lack of definition and also given rise to a resurgence of more ‘conservative’ trends in church life.

We were reminded that it is biblical values and principles which should be guiding our lives and not our responses to the waves of change and cultural shifts, even within the church scene. The whole message was one of hope and encouragement to ‘get on our boards’ and be in the action, believing that God is in control and that his Holy Spirit within us will empower us to face the challenge of the coming waves, whatever form they may take. Each one of us will take from the conference a personal challenge to be more proactive in a Christ-like manner and to watch God at work.

Looking forward to reading other comments from those who attended and their sharing of how they were impacted by the whole event. Even if there are some questions still unanswered, please feel free to express them and perhaps we can listen to one another and grow together in understanding.

PS:  Mimi said to say that the food was great too!!

On this evening, my small group was meeting in my living room. Though there were a few open chairs, I decided to sit against the wall, since I’m one of those people who is often most comfortable on the floor. This attracted the attention of my friend, who practically leapt off the couch and told me to sit there instead.

I appreciated his gesture, and told him so. I also assured him that I really, truly wanted to sit where I was. A lively dialogue ensued, with him practically begging me to take his seat, and me insisting that I was sure—yes, really sure—that I would much prefer the floor. After more verbal tug-of-war than I care to recount, my friend looked at me helplessly and finally protested, “But… you’re a woman!”

Needless to say, I didn’t particularly appreciate that logic.

When talking with him later, it became evident that this was something he had been raised to believe. Real men give up their seats for women. Real men open doors for women. Real men never let women pump their own gas, always scrape the windshield for them, always carry the groceries, and so on. As a man, my friend simply wanted to honor and serve me, a woman he cared about.

I understood where he was coming from, yet something didn’t feel right. I was perplexed as to why. After all, I appreciate being offered a chair. I have no problem with guys opening a door for me. I actually think it’s great when men go out of their way to do small, thoughtful tasks for the women in their lives.

But as I began to pay attention, the system of chivalry began to reveal its weakness to me—and its weakness is just that: it is a system. Like most social systems, it is really bad at taking into account the full personhood of its members. It gives us lots of instructions and assumptions about how to deal with one another, saving us the trouble of, say, actually knowing one another. We are trained to see a single member of a broad class who consequently requires certain treatment.

Chivalry gives everyone a clear role to play, complete with prescribed duties and responses. It puts pressure on men to prove they are manly by fulfilling certain set duties. It puts pressure on women to prove they are feminine by gladly receiving men’s service, whether it actually serves them or not. Chivalry hinges on entitlement and obligation.

Scripture, on the other hand, gives us a much higher standard for our relationships. Rather than assume things about one another as we follow a script, we are to prefer others above ourselves and consider their best interests alongside our own (Philippians 2:3-4). Rather than ask how much is expected of us, we should lay down our entire lives for our brothers and sisters (1 John 3:16). Servanthood hinges on humility and gratitude.

The issue can be confused sometimes, seeing as chivalry and biblical servanthood can outwardly look the same. But in my observation, the problem with chivalry lies not so much in its actions as its intentions. For instance, it is one thing to be asked, “I see that you have X need; may I do Y for you?” It is another to be told, “I see that you are a woman. I have been well-trained in how to treat women. I shall therefore do Y for you.” The first makes me feel honored and blessed. The second makes me feel embarrassed and a bit put upon. I feel freedom to accept or decline the first offer without hurting anyone’s feelings. I feel nervous that refusing the second will be taken as an affront on someone’s manhood.

What about you? How do you see chivalry compare to biblical servanthood? Does chivalrous conduct hurt or help your relationships with the opposite gender? Is there a better way to interact with one another?

Amanda Beattie