I received news via Facebook very early this morning that my paternal grandmother, Big Mama, died. She was 86 years old.
As far as I know, Big Mama did not die of anything in particular, nor is it really necessary that she should have died of something in particular. At 86 years I think a person has a right to die without anything being ‘wrong’ with them at all; you are old and you have died, that is all.
She used to say that she promised the Lord that if he let her keep her mind, she would serve him all her days and that if you ever saw her not serving the Lord we should pray for her mind. Well over the last few years, my grandmother did experience mental decline but she keep serving him anyway.
When I received the news I told my wife that I had expected my grandmother to die this year and was in fact hoping that it would happen when I travel back to the US this year during the holiday break. I do not mean to say that I was looking forward and hoping for my grandmother’s death as that is by no means the case. I mean only that I had hoped to be there when she died so that I could mourn and celebrate with the family. And in any case some years back she told me that she wanted me to preach her funeral. I am not sure that is now possible, but we will see.
This request of hers, that I preach her funeral, leads me on to further reflection as I consider her life and her death. One of my cousins mentioned that she was the matriarch of the family. Truer words have hardly been spoken. How can one remember, mourn, and celebrate the loss of someone who fully fits that description? It feels as if the queen of a minor monarchy has died and I am one of its princes. (Too bad we don’t have any princely money.)
She was in fact a true matriarch, the woman around whom a tremendous constellation of family and friends of the family revolved whether they knew her personally or not. Her matriarchy was not built on the basis of a large family: she had only 4 children, and 12 grandchildren – not especially huge numbers as such things go. And the family was not, in the strictest sense of the word, the center of her matriarchal power. Sure, years ago we would gather at her place during Christmas to eat and all that, but it has been a quite a long while since that tradition died (to be honest it was not at all one especially enjoyed by our ‘branch’ of the family tree, that is my father’s children; we were not really upset when that tradition ended but that’s another story). No the matriarchy of my grandmother was built on something quite different and is something to which I am, in a very real sense of the word, an heir. It was built on the church.
You see my grandmother was the founder of the church in which I grew up. Family sat at the center but many others came, seeking their soul salvation, looking for the truth, desperate for deliverance from sin, from death, from the challenges of life. They came and became connected to us, to the family that sat at the core of things. They came as friends of the family, sisters and brothers-in-law, wives and husbands turned ex-wives and ex-husbands who stayed even though they were no longer married into the family but were still part of the church and thus part of the family, the Lord added to their numbers those who would be saved. They came and they were drawn in not just to the church but into the family so that everybody seemed to be related even though only a few of us actually were. The church was the family and the family was the church and we who were in both could scarcely tell where one ended and the other began. So my grandmother was matriarch beyond the natural family — she was mama, and big mama, and pastor all at the same time to a great many people.
She was my grandmother and my pastor and she reigned as pastor of the church for more than 35 years until she abdicated the throne to my father, her eldest son and chief heir to her ministerial and pastoral legacy. I use the term ‘reigned’ intentionally for that is how it felt to us, or to me at least since all our lives we, the children of her eldest son, grew up as I imagine royal heirs grow up except in this case we were being groomed for ministry.
It was only natural. My two uncles were both younger than my father and were not really the church-going type. The youngest one, though now in ministry himself, came late to it after many years of wandering as a prodigal. My aunt, older than my father, was consistently inconsistent and besides she smoked and played the numbers, two giant no-no’s for anyone aspiring to leadership in Pentecostal Holiness circles. So it fell to my father as the one called to ministry early, and consequently to us his children. So we learned about all the workings of ministry and the dynamics of leadership not so much as children of the church but as dynastic heirs to a priestly inheritance.
So it was that she reigned in the church and ruled in the family, combining in herself the sacred and the familial role in such a way that the two dimensions of power are inextricably linked for me. It is nearly impossible to separate my remembrance of her as my grandmother from my remembrance of her as my 1st pastor.
I still remember her preaching in such a way that it seemed hell itself would open up and swallow you where you stood for the sins you’d committed that week.
I remember her leaning on the pulpit looking with the serious face on those who were tarrying there for Holy Ghost power because it wasn’t the Holy Ghost until she said it was, no matter how much you cried or screamed or rolled on the floor.
I remember her running, when she still could run, and dancing before the Lord with joy even when she couldn’t really anymore.
I remember when I shared with her my sense of calling to the ministry… how she looked at me but seemed to be looking through me. (I think if more people had to sit in my grandmother’s living room to talk about their calling to ministry while she looked through them too quite a few of them might change their mind and decide they weren’t called after all.)
For the other branches of the family (the children of my father’s 3 siblings) the mourning and remembrance will be different… of course it would be. Her relationship with them was different than it was with us. For them I think (though I can’t be certain) they experienced her as Big Mama or Mama first and pastor second whilst for us it was perhaps the other way ’round.
She was my grandmother though and not just my pastor. And she loved us and we loved her not just as a pastor but as a grandmother. If it wasn’t for her none of us would be here. I will miss her, indeed I already do.
In Part I, I briefly detailed the history of American Evangelicalism, tracing its roots to the 2nd Great Awakening and the contemporary emergence of a post-Christian society.
Before delving further into our exploration of how Evangelicals might move forward in this post-Christian world, it is important to acknowledge their triumphs in the previous one. I mentioned earlier that the Evangelical movement was a movement for reform of society and of the men in it. It aimed for a transformation of impious, irreligious nominalism into a devout, serious minded faith. It aimed further for the culture itself to be ‘renewed’; for reform in labour laws, for the abolition of slavery, for a deep change in the understanding of marriage, for the raw mercantile capitalism of the day to be tamed, and on and on.
Well the good news is that it largely worked. Gradually, locally and then more systematically, the reforms of manners and customs that evangelicals championed were enacted. Within the US context for example, abolition of slavery was preceded by a change in the terms of argument employed by opponents of abolition; it had now to be justified as being more beneficial and humanitarian than the alternatives, whereas previously it was justified simply by its profitability. In hindsight it is an utterly unconvincing argument, but the fact that it was even put forth as an argument at all shows the power of the society wide change that was taking place under evangelical Christian influence. Eventually of course, slavery was abolished. Prisons were reformed. Labour rights were secured. Public drunkenness, rampant gambling and other ‘vices’ became taboo in polite society. And finally, in what might eventually be seen as the last great flourish of the evangelically inspired reformist movement, legalised racial oppression was struck down.
Now some of these reforms were backed by liberals and others by conservatives and some were opposed by them, but they were all products of the Evangelical Revival and each were making their case on the terms of Christian commitment to a ‘Christian’ society that shared, at least theoretically, those same commitments.
What is all the more striking is that the soteriological framework of Evangelical thought, complete with its focus on crisis, awareness of guilt for sin, recognition of the need for external aid, emotional & spiritual responsiveness, etc., has become the framework by which Americans generally understand social or personal change. This obtains whether they are Christian or not, and indeed even if they are intentionally aggressively anti-Christian. The so-called new atheists (who are generally much less interesting than the old ones) describe their embrace of atheism in ways that would not be out of place in an old time fundamentalist revival meeting. The same is true for gays as well, with ‘coming out’ absorbing the abandoned space of testimony of salvation, except in this case it is usually a testimony of deliverance from the false life of lying to oneself and ones family before finally surrendering to the higher truth of their identity and finding hope and acceptance within a new LGBT community.
In other ways too Evangelicalism won. We take for granted the calm that stalks our city streets, the absence of widespread and open bribery of public officials, the assumptions of trustworthiness that lubricates our business and social interactions, the fact that children are not openly abused or sold into servitude. Yet none of these could have been taken for granted in the rough and tumble, money obsessed days just prior to the Great Awakening. Britain for example was awash in cheap gin, with the concomitant social problems that entailed. The American South, where slavery was common, was a veritable wasteland of irreligion and impiety with most people concerned about little more than profit taking and the enjoyment of life at whatever cost. New Englanders, steeped in a hypocrisy that belied their Puritan heritage, mostly turned a blind eye and deaf ear to the cries of trafficked slaves from whom they derived the vast profits that drove their mercantile enterprises. In other words, virtually all the ‘normalcy’ of American life that we now enjoy is light years away from what was normal at the nation’s founding and is largely the result of the long shadow of the evangelical movement.
The Evangelicals in some ways won much of the culture, but because they were a movement birthed in revolt against the institutional structures of ‘Christendom’, they tended to disregard the need to control or substantively reform the structures of society, seeing this as superfluous and perhaps even harmful to their project of societal transformation. What mattered was the heart and the Christendom model, wherein the institutional structures of society were under the control of the church, had mostly failed in their estimation to bring about real social and personal reform. Consequently the institutional structures of society, such as the arts, media, universities, and government among other things, which for a long time maintained their ‘Christian’ character as a hold-over of the Christendom ideal, eventually were taken captive by antichristian forces.
Over time Evangelicals, both of the liberal and conservative stripe, mostly ignored these institutions. The liberals did not generally see them as a threat and even applauded at times as they were subverted, seeing in their evolution away from ‘Christendom’ something to be celebrated; a further liberation from the old prejudices and inadequacies of the past. The conservatives mostly saw them as irredeemably corrupt and thus avoid entering them altogether, while occasionally using their declining social influence to rail against this or that excess. The commanding heights of the culture were thus secured by the non-Christian and anti-Christian heirs of the Enlightenment; it was only a matter of time before the rest of society would fall.
Modesty. For many Christians, especially in the US, the word conjures up unwelcome images of unfashionable and uncomfortable clothing choices imposed and monitored by strict and legalistic preachers. For others, it is seen as a way of controlling womens’ sexuality and of enforcing the ‘Madonna – whore’ dichotomy that someone (probably in a ‘studies’ programme) decided is a patriarchal meme that validates the suppression / oppression of women. There are ‘good girls’ and ‘bad girls’ and ‘good girls’ don’t dress like that. Such a bifurcated view of female sexuality is rejected by sex-positive feminists as being inherently oppressive of women.
Now to be honest, I am not too familiar with the various shades of meanings attached to these terms. I was fortunately spared having to go through any ‘studies’ programme at university and am consequently delightfully ignorant of a great many things. I first read the ‘Madonna-whore’ dichotomy mentioned in the comments section of some article I read (which I cannot now find), but which basically was railing against something called ‘purity culture’. An article by Sarah Bessey and a sympathetic response by Jen Pollock Michel in Christianity Today were part of the discussion. Then there was this article that dealt specifically with the question of modesty and the Christian woman..
Taken all together with a number of other recent articles, books, and blogposts, a picture begins to emerge of Christian women revolting against certain assumed norms of behaviour that seem to be part and parcel of the evangelical sub-culture and the double-standard that obtains for men and women.
What to make of all this? Well, I cannot really answer all the questions surrounding purity cultures and virgin-whore dichotomies, but I can say that, all protestations to the contrary – your skirt is probably too short. Let me explain.
Working on college campuses, I’ve watched as women have embraced fashion trends that make simply walking through campus akin to perusing soft-core porn. I’ve seen women embrace styles and trends that were formerly seen only on prostitutes. I’ve read men describe church services as the ‘Sunday morning night-club’ because of what women wear there. I’ve counselled Christian men who dread the coming of warm weather because of the barrage of temptation with which they will inevitably be faced, and the guilt and shame heaped on them for not ‘guarding their eyes’ or for somehow ‘making women responsible for their lust’. And I’ve scratched my head in wonder that I have to advise Christian women going for short-term mission that skin tight jeans and skirts half-way up their thighs are not appropriate dress.
At the same time, I’ve listened to and read how many countless times of the need for Christian women to not ‘cause their brother’s to stumble’ by their dress. I’ve also read of the frustration many women feel about this, as they (rightfully) point to the responsibilities men have to manage their own sexuality and take responsibility for their own choices.
In all of this, the discussion has almost always revolved around the male response to female sexuality. I have rarely seen anything about what I believe lies closer to the heart of issues of modesty in dress – vanity.
In almost every case wide numbers of women have embraced these styles of clothing because of the fact that it appeals to their sinful nature and their vanity.
(Cue howls of protest from the gallery)
Yes, yes I know I know. I’m a misogynist patriarchal sexist who wants to utilise religion to subvert and suppress women.
So what do I mean? Well simply put women generally like to dress in ways that enhance their visual / sexual appeal. Women want to be seen as desirable and attractive to men (that is to men they like and/or deem to be an attractive catch. Other men not so much). Women like to look pretty, and it usually makes them feel good to look good. And as far as I can tell this is a universal trait, equally apparent among ‘decadent westerners’ and ‘conservative Muslims’ (if you doubt it then you’ve never really observed Muslim women, covered nearly from head to toe in swaths of fabric manage to somehow rock a runway-worthy fashion sense while not showing a stitch of skin beyond their hands and face.)
I don’t have any problem with this and I think it is a good thing; a God given thing even. Women like to look good and be appealing. Wonderful.
Like all good things however this one has been warped and twisted by the Fall. So what was a good gift has become a nightmare. The result is women caught in a never-ending vanity arms (and legs, and thighs, and mid-drift…) race with other women, mostly falsely projected images of idealised women, that they can never meet and that leaves them dissatisfied and perpetually unhappy and looking for someone to blame.
The advert comes out, the skirts on the rack are shorter this year and vanity kicks in. One doesn’t want to be unappealing and wearing a longer skirt would be unappealing and to be appealing is to be ‘sexy’ and to show more and more skin and well everyone else is wearing it and it really can’t be so bad if that is what everyone else is wearing and who wants to look like an old woman (because old women aren’t sexy whatever else they might be) and it’s the sexist patriarchy that is responsible for all this and, and and…
Annnd you know what? It isn’t men or the ‘patriarchy’ that drives the immodest clothing arms race. Its other women. The women that women compare themselves to in the media, among their network of friends, and the woman in their heads that tell them that to be appealing or beautiful or desirable is to do this to wear that.
And the church comes in with teaching that generally is more harmful than helpful by deflecting the issue into one of women being responsible somehow for men’s sins – a stance which simultaneously infantilises and dehumanises men by making them little more than walking gonads AND avoids dealing substantively with women’s sins and sexual power. It fails to address the fact that yes, women who are seen to be ‘sexy’ have power; power that is used to extract unearned privileges that men and unattractive or older women do not have. It neglects the fact that women have and do often use sex, sexiness and the male attention it generates for their own advantage. It forgets that women are sinners and that the admonition to modest dress in the Bible is made without any reference at all to men, but is made in reference to holiness and prayerfulness, watchfulness and submission.
So yes, when you pour yourself into that pair of skin-tight jeans don’t deluded yourself into thinking it’s because they are comfortable. They aren’t and besides, – there are plenty of comfortable clothes that don’t allow me to trace every part of your figure so closely that I can see the outline of the birthmark on your upper left thigh. And when you put on that super short skirt, please don’t pretend that it’s because it’s hot since the men all around you are equally hot and they don’t wear things like that and the only men who do so are gay men and they’re wearing them for the same reason you really are. Admit the truth of how it appeals to your vanity and your carnal nature. Admit it and repent.
It may be news to the less astute observer, but for most people who pay attention to such things, the United States is rapidly following Europe into a ‘post-Christian’ era. American Evangelicals are struggling to adjust though there are substantial numbers who do not recognise that a shift has taken place at all. This is because much of the shift is buried under layers of political and cultural trends: abortion rights, gay marriage fights, rhetoric about the ‘War on Women’, etc. The recent scuffle concerning World Vision only highlights this. These are just surface symptoms. The deeper reality is that a post-Christian age is upon us and the foundational assumptions of the prior age no longer apply. What does all this mean for American Evangelicals? To answer this, we must first understand what evangelicalism is, what it isn’t, and what its’ roots are. Part one will address this issue.
Contrary to popular belief, American Evangelicalism is not simply a product of early 20th century Fundamentalism – although Fundamentalism is an antecedent movement. American Evangelicalism is, properly speaking, a child of the 2nd Great Awakening of the late 18th and early 19th century – that great mass movement that arose in rebellion against the decadent, irreligious, and impious culture of the day. It was a movement that shared some of the more optimistic assumptions of the Enlightenment which preceded it. It spawned the great missionary movement of the 19th century as well as the anti-slavery movement, the prison reform movement, and various other humanitarian reforms. This social reform impulse was paired with a deep conviction of the need for individual repentance and faith in response to the claims of the gospel.
The liberal / fundamentalist split that many people trace as the origin of American Evangelicalism didn’t come into being until more than a hundred years later when those now termed theologically ‘Liberal’ dropped the emphasis on personal response to the gospel while retaining the concern for social reform. We needn’t dwell here much on liberalism vs. fundamentalism; that is not the essential point. What is important to note is that it was at the outset a unified movement out to change both the world and the men in it!
But, and this is the crucial thing for it lies at the heart of the present dilemma, this movement was out to change a particular kind of world and to convert particular kinds of people – a Christian world, full of Christian people. Evangelicalism is a product of Christendom itself, but not in the way people like to think it was. Evangelicalism wasn’t a prop to Christendom, but rather its inveterate opponent.
Evangelicalism was a prophetic movement, calling nominal Christians back to the radical claims of discipleship to Jesus Christ. It was an apostolic movement, issuing the challenge to bring the gospel to all nations. It was innovative, using all the latest techniques and technologies to advance its cause. It was trans-denominational. And perhaps most critically, its theology was developed against the backdrop of a ‘Christian’ society.
By the time of the Evangelical Revival, Europe had been Christian in some form, for more than 1000 years. The Reformation, upon which so many contemporary internet theologians place undue emphasis, had brought some shifts to the currents of Christianity and indeed made the Awakening possible. However it had left in place one critical component: the establishment of religion. Evangelicals, many of whom were non-conformists, chafed under the strictures of established religion and were perturbed by the rampant nominalism it seemed to encourage. Though in the United States, Christendom, the official alignment of church & state, broke, the culture of Christendom, the notion of a broadly ‘Christian’ civilization, remained intact as most people thought of themselves as Christian whether or not they had any active life of faith in the evangelical sense of that term. It was a Christian society, with Christian assumptions that prevailed in Europe and North America.
This is the backdrop for all the contentious social debates of the last 100 years of American life. Liberal and Conservative, Mainline & Evangelical all made their cases and built their theological frameworks of thought within a society that shared a broadly ‘Christian’ conception of the universe even as the institutional structures of that society were shifting. Over the past fifty years however, what had been gradual and at times imperceptible movements became a rapid unraveling. The pace of this unraveling has increased significantly in the past twenty years and now Christians in the West find themselves confronting an entirely post-Christian reality.
We should note that this emerging post-Christian era has and is affecting ‘liberals’ and ‘evangelicals’ alike. While one will find plenty of people willing to lay the decline of the American Evangelical church at the foot of rigidity in doctrinal positions related to women’s ordination and gay rights, churches that have long embraced such positions have declined far faster and for far longer than their evangelical counterparts. Theological ‘openness’ and ‘affirmation’ have not been sufficient to stem the tide and those who have trod such paths find themselves swept aside just as readily as the more doctrinaire and dogmatic evangelicals who are the bogeyman and whipping boy of American socio-cultural commentary. Simply put, a theology, whether of ‘liberal’, ‘conservative’ or ‘evangelical’ stripe forged in a Christian era is largely irrelevant in a post-Christian one.
There is a scene in the movie What’s Love Got to Do with It? where Ike tries to force Tina (Anna Mae is her ‘real’ name) to eat a piece of cake that she doesn’t want. Here’s a quick run-down of the scene courtesy of Hollie McNish of the Mirror:
Tina Turner, real name Anna Mae Bullock, has just released her own music single and two kids come up to her at a diner asking for her autograph. Not her husband Ike’s. Ike is jealous. He tells her to “eat the cake” so they can celebrate her new and independent success. She doesn’t want any. He says “Eat the cake, Anna Mae” and when she refuses, he stands up, shoves it in her mouth and across her face. Her friend and backing vocalist tries to stop him. Ike threatens her, beats her and she runs away shouting to Tina Turner, “You are dead if you stay with him.”
The scene has become iconic because of its vivid portrayal of the humiliation of domestic abuse. (That the phrase has now become fodder for a Beyonce song is problematic in itself, which is McNish’s point, and beyond the scope of my current concern.)
Well, it seems we have now have progressed to a kind of ‘eat the cake’ scenario in American society. Well, more like bake the cake. As everybody who pays attention to these kinds of things knows, there have been lawsuits about bakers who refuse, because of their tender Christian consciences, to bake cakes for same-sex nuptials. There have been laws passed, vetoed, hysterics, etc. all around but for many it seems to be a totally irrelevant issue. After all it is just cake right?
Of course we are fortunate to have author and social commentator Rachel Evans to elucidate for us just the exact nature of the problem. In a recent post, Walking the Second Mile: Jesus, Discrimination and ‘Religious Freedom’, she informs her readers and the listening public:
We have become known as a group of people who sees themselves perpetually under attack, perpetually victimized, and perpetually entitled, a group who, ironically, often responds to these imagined disadvantages by advancing legislation that restricts the civil liberties of other people.
Leaving for a moment any consideration of whether Evans can plausibly include herself in the ‘We’ of evangelicalism, we note that she advances this statement partially in relation to the supposed rally of evangelicals in favour of ‘injustices in Russia and Uganda’. ( Of course, it cannot possibly be that Russians and Ugandans have ideas of their own about how to order their societies; it must be because of ‘evangelicals’ that they have chosen to advance such legislation.) More importantly though, and more central to her thesis is her suggestion that evangelicals are advancing legislation that restricts civil liberties of other people.
This statement betrays a lack of understanding of both the recent legislation and the very notion of what constitutes a ‘civil liberty’ – which doesn’t, last I checked, include the right to have someone bake you a cake.
But the heart of her argument is this:
As Christians, our most “deeply held religious belief” is that Jesus Christ died on the cross for sinful people, and that in imitation of that, we are called to love God, to love our neighbors, and to love even our enemies to the point of death.
So I think we can handle making pastries for gay people.
Interesting. But it isn’t just Evans that has this view. And it comes up whether we’re talking about insurance mandates under the Affordable Care Act, or Hobby Lobby, or Chik-Fil-A or whatever. I have seen it elsewhere as people have likened the issue of meat sacrificed to idols in the New Testament, or of washing the feet in service to our neighbors, or of Jesus serving Judas who he knew was going to betray him, or, or, or…
Just eat bake the damn cake! It’s really not a big deal and I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal of it.
My thoughts on this turn rather to our forebears in the faith who lived in the sprawling multi-ethnic, multi-religious, multi-cultural empire of Rome. An Empire that was actually quite tolerant of different religious and who had, because of the oddness of their customs, even created a carve-out for the Jews. All that was required of a subject of Rome was a simple acknowledgment of the supremacy of Caesar. The Romans did not ask you to forsake your religious worship, they did not ask you to stop your sacrifices to your own gods. In fact they did not even ask you to believe in the divinity of the Roman Emperor. Heck most of them didn’t likely believe in it, least of all the emperors themselves!
They didn’t want or need your belief. They needed your compliance.
And Christians, the ones who would go the extra mile, turn the other cheek, give water and food to their enemies, render to Caesar what was his, willingly, painfully, horrifically died rather than perform a simple, likely meaningless, ceremony.
Just like eating cake at a party.
What Evans is advocating is exactly what was portrayed in the film. Anna Mae is perceived as being disrespectful because she doesn’t want to eat the cake. It is taken by Ike to be a personal affront, something no ‘good woman’ would do. If Anna Mae really wanted to serve and be like Jesus she would simply shut-up and eat the damn cake already!
And according to Evans if these objectors were really Christian they would just go ahead and bake it. After all, isn’t that what Jesus would do?
At the end of the day it doesn’t matter whether the martyr dies for their faith or is merely driven out of business, or shamed, or simply derided as an ignorant bigot – the substantive issue is the same and no amount of clever internet snark can change that. Simply put, it isn’t about just baking pastries for gay people. It isn’t just questioning whether to eat meat sacrificed to idols. It is requiring people under force of law to supply goods for and participate in something they view as abhorrent and intrinsically immoral.
“For the man is not of the woman: but the woman of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man. Nevertheless neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord. For as the woman is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman” 1 Corinthians 11. 8-9, 10-11.
Of late, long simmering issues connected with the relationship between of men and women within the context of American Evangelicalism have become more of a slow boil. The lines have long since been drawn between what is termed ‘Complementarianism’ and ‘Egalitarianism’ with each camp of Evangelicals planting their hermeneutical flags and rallying their troops to their preferred approach. Usually people who disagree on these issues are willing to be charitable to those who disagree. This post is not about the respective merits of each of these positions, at least not directly. Instead I want to talk about something more basic to the whole discussion — something I think is too often lost in the terminology that has been assigned (or chosen) by the partisans of the different schools of thought.
Men and women are complementary.
Men are not women and women are not men. This plain statement, which should seem obvious, is no longer obvious. In an era when heteronormative cis-gendered patriarchy is regularly attacked directly by those outside the church and indirectly by those inside, this statement betrays a kind of binary approach to sex / gender that reflects my heterosexist male privilege or something like that.
I don’t really care. Men and women are not the same, nor were we created to be the same. We were created to be complementary to one another.
Complementarity is a term that has unfortunately been swept up into the polarizing theological and doctrinal debate so much that the term itself has lost all meaning. Really it just means that men and women are for each other. Not in the sense of being ‘in favor of’, but in the sense of being designed or intended for the other.
The other day as I drove home I noticed some men working by the roadside. Specifically, they were digging a drainage ditch. By hand. As traffic was backed up (as it often is) I had the chance to observe well. I noticed the young man as he hoisted with relative ease the pick-axe straight above his head, his muscles rippling through his lithe frame as sweat poured down his back. He brought the pick-axe down again and lifted it again in a single moment – the whole upward / downward motion taking all of 5 seconds; which means 12 times per minute. Near him was another man, standing in the ditch shoveling, the dirt flying over his shoulder with ease.
These men will go home to a wife or a mother or sister who has also worked hard all day – washing clothes by hand, selling fruit, hawking goods on the street and hauling water to the house for cooking and bathing – who will then cook for them to eat, and probably clean up afterwards.
Hard work all around. Of that there is no doubt. Yet the work that each does is complementary to the other.
Ditches need to be dug and men are better suited at it than women. Domestic tasks likewise need to be done, and although these tasks can be done by men, are more readily and easily taken up by women. One critical reason for this is that the domestic tasks usually taken up by women are the kinds of tasks that lend themselves to multi-tasking – a critical necessity when small children appear on the scene. After all it is much easier to wash clothes by hand and keep an eye on the children than it is to dig a drainage ditch and do the same thing.
This isn’t to say that women can’t or shouldn’t dig ditches or that men mustn’t do domestic work. Not at all.
It is simply an observation of the realities that our physicality impose on us and as I said earlier, it is only our technological sophistication that allows us to pretend otherwise. Our physicality introduces us to something we don’t like and which continuously strive to reject and that is our limitations. And here is where the tension of complementarity comes in for many of us.
We live in a world where we can pretend that these things don’t matter. Complementarity is easily hidden in technologically advanced and complex societies where the differences between men and women are hidden beneath layers of labour saving devices, medical interventions, and legal constructs explicitly designed to minimize the differences. But when these are stripped away, the differences become much more starkly evident and our need for one another emerges more clearly as well. Here is where the profundity of the mystery of marriage comes in.
As Christians there is little controversy around affirming complementarity as it relates to the body of Christ. We all have gifts differing, as the scripture says, and so the hand and the foot need each other. The foot does what it does and the hand what it does and although it is possible for one to function in the place of the other it isn’t ideal. Yet when it comes to the complementarity of men and women, of what our embodied sexually differentiated selves bring into the mystery that is our union with one another, all manner of ire is stirred. Why is that? Well there are lots of reasons having to do with all kinds of things but I want to highlight only one which I believe is at or near the core.
We don’t want to live in the limits of our physical nature. We have embraced a heretical notion that what really matters is spirit and the physical is unimportant. So our physical natures tell us nothing of the things of God — it is only the disembodied spiritual that matters and since spirits are not sexed then it is an irrelevancy to make distinctions as it relates to sex. We are therefore not complementary to one another, but interchangeable. We don’t need the other.
But this is a lie. And it is a lie that is particularly appealing to women. In fact I cannot recall any time when I’ve heard a man say ‘I don’t need a woman’, yet ‘I don’t need a man’ is a common proclamation. Why the difference? Well men are taught by our physical nature that women are necessary. We all came through woman and it is impossible for us to bear children. We know that ‘it’s not good for the man to be alone’.
The contribution of men is much more hidden and dispersed so it is not readily apparent to most women that men are necessary – especially not in a world of push button technology, sophisticated systems of electricity generation and global transport. These systems, which are run on the backs of men digging ditches, are hidden, and make it possible for this demonic delusion to take root.
During the wandering of the Israelites in the wilderness, the people grumbled against the Lord (as usual). To punish them, God sent a plague of fiery serpents among the people. The people cried out to God in repentance and at God’s command as a remedy for the plague, Moses made a bronze serpent. The serpent was to be lifted up on a pole, and those who would look on it would live (and that’s where we get the song Look and Live from). It is quite the story; full of theological significance.
Much later, 2 Kings 18.4 records an obscure event related to this same bronze serpent. It is of the destruction by King Hezekiah of the bronze serpent that Moses had made. You see the people had been burning incense to the serpent – worshipping it, and it had become a distraction and a distortion of the whole event in their history. Instead of the bronze serpent being a reminder to them of how far they had come, of their sins and need for repentance, of their dependency on God, it had become nothing more than another object of false worship: a monument to a memory.
It was in this vein that I made comments that I was ‘over’ MLK Day.
Please, don’t get me wrong (and I know some of you will anyway). I have a deep appreciation for the price paid by many during and after the Civil Rights movement, exemplified by Rev. King. I remember the stories my parents told of going to school in under resourced, segregated schools. My family was the first Black family to move into an all-white, working class (to put it nicely) neighbourhood in the late 1960’s in the south. Let that sink in.
They bought a house.
In an all-white, lower working class neighbourhood.
In the south.
My mother walked my elder brother through angry crowds of not-too-pleased white neighbours to kindergarten that was only just beginning to be integrated.
Our neighbours children broke into our house, stole our video camera and shot movies of themselves insulting the ‘n*ggers’ that lived next door to them. …. Next door.
They never reported it to the police because…why bother? They would still be living next door to them and why ask for more trouble.
When we moved from there, we moved again to be the first Black family in an all-White (slightly better-off) neighbourhood. We lived there for 30 years. The neighbours, being mostly of the ‘decent church-going Southern White folk’ were a far sight better than the ‘po white trash’ we left behind. They were the kind of folks who loaned eggs and sugar to each other over the back fence. Miss Woodard, (who said she never married because her fiancé found out she couldn’t cook) would say to her friends on the phone while she was keeping an eye on us after school before Mom got home from work, “the little coloured boys from next door are here.” She is the first person I remember taking me to McDonalds. Mr Bradshaw confided to my father about the mental decline of his wife who would ask him again and again, “Les, you want some coffee?” while never bringing him any. And Miss McCarty, who loved her dogs, baked excellent cakes, gave me overripe bananas anytime she saw me because I once told her I liked them (I was just being polite), and who asked my sister every year to come over and help her turn her mattress (or some such chores). Mrs Louellen brought us a batch of brownies when my Momma passed away. We were probably the first Black family any of them had ever had close contact with and likely the first White people my parents learned to have a measure of trust with. They’ve all died now; maybe I’ll meet them in heaven.
Meanwhile my mother was finding “A N*gger Application for Employment” placed on her desk where she worked at a school in an ‘upper class’ neighbourhood across the street from Vanderbilt University.
My father was dealing with the small and large slights of racism day in and day out on the job.
And we (the kids) were learning to navigate a post-civil rights world where dirty snot nosed stringy haired White kids somehow though they were better than us because of skin color. Where police found a reason to roll up and surround 3 young teenaged boys with 5 squad cars playing basketball at night in the park… 100 yards from my home. And where in first grade at my upper middle class school in the middle of White suburbia, the teacher managed to find a way to isolate the only two Black children in class – one of whom (me) was always being sent to the office because he already worked through all the workbooks for the class, and read all the assigned materials. Yeah… I was punished for being too smart.
Flash forward to university and you find me chairing the MLK committee, planning the march, speaking at the MLK Day program (because the vaunted ‘Civil Rights veteran showed up late’). You’ll find me defending soul food being served in the cafeteria, reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X in one weekend because I want to read the book before I see the movie, and coordinating the university’s Kwanzaa programme.
And now? 20 years onward, I look at the celebration of MLK Day and I see what King Hezekiah saw. I see a memory, in this case the person of Rev. King, being made into a monument. I see people making speeches, planning marches, posting inspirational quotes.
And in a few weeks, there will be another young Black man shot dead. Someone else a victim of police brutality. Another stereotyped movie with a shallow script and shallower acting. Another 1000 Black children born out of wedlock or aborted in the womb. Another twerking video.
It’s as if the whole point has been forgotten. And I wonder… did my dad skip school to go to a Civil Right march so that getting educated and speaking proper English can be considered “ack-in’ White”? Did Rosa Parks sit down on a bus so that we can watch videos of Black people fighting on the bus? How many more speeches will it take before we stop talking about White racism and deal with the huge crime problem in many of our communities?
That’s why I’m ‘over it’. Not because I don’t love and appreciate the history but because I do appreciate it so much. I have 2 young boys – who will soon be men. They need to know this history, so that they grow up to stand up as men on the shoulders of the giants that have preceded them. So that they don’t waste the lesson by using it as an excuse for failing to excel. So that they don’t show up telling me some stories about how they couldn’t keep from getting in a fight because they needed to keep it real.
I’m done with talking about the dream and I refuse to make a monument out of a memory.