Somehow I Dodged That Bullet! Or Did I?

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

"Can you imagine if you'd married A?" Todd said the other night. "God, no," I replied with a shudder. 'A' was the boy in college I watched stand at our front door with his head bowed and praying before ringing the doorbell for our date. He was more spiritual than Todd in his Christian behavior, for sure. But 'A' believed he was supposed to be my spiritual leader from the first date. There are several young men from that time I can't imagine being married to now. I would have tried so hard to let them lead me, but I would have been able to sit on my strong personality for about 5 minutes. 

This week I finished the book "Jesus and John Wayne." I don't want to spend my time providing you a summary when there are plenty of other places to find one. I've read books like this before explaining the rise in the last 50 years of Christian nationalism and the Moral Majority. This book focused instead on how toxic masculinity took over the culture of religious conservatives in America. Why it bled over and got into bed with American politics. It also explained what I already knew - that in the personal lives of many Christians - marriages are supposed to be a place where the man is Alpha. He is in charge of the family, and the woman's role is to support him. A popular leader thirty years ago still says the same thing today. He claims every REAL (his word, not mine) man's core desires are a battle to fight, an adventure to live, and a beauty to rescue. Women might be strong, but men need to be stronger.   

As I read "Jesus and John Wayne," I found myself thankful that neither my father nor husband had conformed to these beliefs. They don't need power, my submission, or to be the center of attention. While there are two sides to every coin, both my dad and husband give the women in their lives lots of room to be themselves. Granted, I have held this against them in the past and demanded more - more leadership, action, and ability to meet my intensity. But, somehow, I dodged the bullet of being a woman who had to submit to the men in her family who needed to be in charge. I'm sure this is one of the main reasons I am still married to the same man 28 years later.

But what about the pastors (all male) I knew? 

Here's the thing. None of my pastors were overtly harmful to me, thankfully. I worked closely with them, and for the most part, they wanted to encourage me to be who I was meant to be. For women. Children. See, I wanted to be a pastor, too. I wanted to be recognized for my leadership qualities. But I am almost sure that I am not a senior pastor today because I don't have a penis. Allow me to explain.

I wasn't married to a man interested in traditional Christian leadership. In the denomination I was a part of in my 20s, women were pastors if they were married to a pastor. I wasn't. We tried. Todd would be an intern at our little church, working for no pay but being trained to be a pastor who would lead his own church someday (can you imagine!?!). We led small groups together, but behind the scenes, Todd's heart wasn't in it. I made the decisions and captained the ship, and he wanted to support me. But I wanted him to be someone he wasn't, so I could rank higher in the leadership structure of our church. It never happened, surprise, surprise. One time I got so mad at him for not conforming to what a male leader was supposed to do; I flipped our coffee table in anger once everyone left for the evening. I could not have what I want, what I felt made for, without him. It didn't occur to me that there might be another way because church leaders were men in our interpretation of the Bible.

This wasn't true in every church I was a part of. But by the time I got to my 30s, I had three little children to care for. Sometimes I spoke at large group gatherings or spearheaded a new ministry, but the only time I was ever paid was as the church secretary. I often asked to meet with the male pastors to share with them what "God had put on my heart." In the Evangelical church, spiritual gift tests are taken. My top results were always prophecy and discernment. I interpret that now that I have a strong intuition and am strategic. I was scared of my pastors' authority because I cared so much about what they thought of me, but I instinctively knew what needed to be said. I found myself often in situations with men where I spoke up with fear and trembling, only to shift the discussion to more depth, honesty, and awareness than the situation had before. This still happens to me. 

I could have gone to seminary, I suppose. I definitely wanted to. As a college junior at the University of CA, Davis, I prayed fervently and often that God would let me go to Bible College instead. But I never felt like I was supposed to leave. I got married, had babies, and stayed home with them. I stuck with traditional women's roles. But I never stopped wanting to be a pastor. Twice Todd and I seriously considered upending our lives to have some credentials behind my name to become a full-time spiritual director. But the cost always seemed too great. So I just pastored wherever I found myself - neighbors, friends' children, and - no lie - the junkies I picked up off the highway. But never as a professional.

At the last church, we were a part of, a pastor we really liked was on his way out the door for retirement. We were there for a couple of years, and again, I was considered for the board and paid admin staff. But by then, I was disillusioned. I knew board members in churches usually ended up working on things like budgets and chili cook-offs, and admin work didn't mean spiritual work. So I dragged my feet into becoming more involved. But I never stopped knowing and secretly wishing I would be recognized - called - as an official spiritual leader of others.

So when it was announced a man three days older than me would be taking over the leadership of our little country church as our current pastor phased out, the rug was pulled out from under my emotional feet. I was sure that if I just had a penis, I wouldn't still be wondering in my 40s if maybe, just maybe, I'd be a pastor someday. Because I was a woman, I would have had to fight twice as hard to pave a traditional path to spiritual leadership, and I just never did. Feeling disheartened about this after twenty-five years was the beginning of the end of my church involvement.

It's probably better that I never became a Christian pastor since I don't even go to church anymore or crack a Bible open. I still wish I could marry and bury people. I did lead the service when my mother-in-law's husband passed away. I've thought about online ordination as a side gig. I still find the most fulfillment when I can intersect others' lives in a way that changes them and sees them be released from what weighs them down. There are other ways to do this, of course, besides as a pastor, but pastors get to preach, you see. That's the kind of work I wanted to do, but in a male-dominated culture, it just never came to be.

In the online world, there are Facebook Lives, blogs, and YouTube videos. I've done them all. Before you message me, I do think there are lots of opportunities that aren't in traditional church settings. Maybe it was just never meant to happen. But I think I am only one of many, many women who were passed over simply because of their gender. 

Toxic masculinity in the Evangelical church is one of the main reasons Trump was elected, and The Capital was breached last January. The book does an excellent job of explaining what I already knew. You can find out more about the book "Jesus and John Wayne" here.