As my first book, Nice Churchy Patriarchy, approaches six months of being out there in the world, I find myself reflecting on the journey. The process of unpacking all the ways patriarchy shows up in faith communities—and, in particular, the ways patriarchy has impacted my experience of church—has been a long one, and a winding one. It is no easy path.
How could a person travel this road and have their faith remain unscathed? Or perhaps a better question is this: How could one’s faith remain unchanged? And is this even a desirable goal?
After spending eleven years in “complementarian” (that is, explicitly patriarchal) evangelical church spaces and then two years in evangelical spaces that were egalitarian in theory but still had a long way to go to reach full gender equity—and, especially, after spending four years intentionally reflecting on these experiences and writing about them—I certainly see questions about gender roles and women in leadership differently. But it’s not only that. I see everything differently.
My work on patriarchy in Christian communities has changed the way I approach faith as a whole. I am more likely to question teachings handed down by authority figures. I am more skeptical of privileged people’s interpretations of scripture—including my own, with all the privileges I carry as a cisgender, heterosexual, economically privileged, white person. I am more intent on listening to people who have often been marginalized in the Christian tradition—fellow women, yes, and also racially marginalized people, sexual and gender minorities, people who are struggling to make ends meet.
I have become more open, I hope, to difference. I am less inclined not only to believe that there is One Right Way to be a woman (or a man), but also to imagine that there is One Right Way to read a passage of scripture, One Right Way to pray, One Right Way to preach or listen to a sermon, One Right Way to be a person of faith.
Even within the Christian tradition, faithfulness has been embodied in so many different ways over the course of two thousand years of history; we do violence to this truth when we pretend that there is only one consistent Christian narrative, one legitimate theological viewpoint, one faithful set of dogma, which Christians today must pick up and carry forward faithfully. As if those two thousand years have not been full of conflict, disagreement, and different visions of what Christianity is all about. (Diana Butler Bass’s A People’s History of Christianity is a great resource for digging deeper here.) I am more inclined, now, to think more deeply about the things that have been handed down to me—to embrace my own agency to choose what to keep, what to transform, what to leave behind.
I hold fast to my conviction of the importance of gender equity, and I will speak up for this. At the same time, I want to be open to learning, open to changing, open to being challenged—especially by people who experience forms of oppression, marginalization, or vulnerability that I do not personally experience.
I find myself seeking women writers and theologians to help me find ways of approaching God that are less tainted with all of the patriarchal assumptions that male religious leaders steeped in patriarchal systems tend to bring. I hold fast to the truth that women’s experiences matter. They matter to God, and they matter to me, and they should matter to all of us.
The search for authentic faith, as a woman, is often a search for a faith that takes our experiences as women seriously, a faith that matters to our experiences as women. We look for faithful women of the past and present who can guide us on our journeys. We look for women in our scriptures—and for ways to see them that don’t write them off or treat them as less than fully human.
My faith has been changed by the experiences of patriarchy I’ve had, and by how I’ve processed these experiences, particularly as I wrote Nice Churchy Patriarchy. I would not wish these experiences on anyone. But, given that patriarchy in its various forms impacts the experiences of the vast majority of women profoundly, I hope it is a gift to know that, through reflecting on these experiences, our faith might ultimately be changed for the better. We learn to embrace our agency, to find ways of approaching God and faith that genuinely work for us, to ask good questions and not be afraid of the answers. We learn to walk forward in courage and love. And, I hope, we begin to build new kinds of faith communities together.
feminismandreligion.com 
Hi, Liz! Thank you for your post. Your book is on my “read next” list. It is also one of the comp titles in that section of my memoir book proposal. I journeyed into Christianity as a Jewish teenager, a decision that took me into evangelism, marriage, and missionary work–all with great committment–until I knew I’d have to leave the faith and the marriage to reclaim faith in myself, find my own agency, and choose to determine my future. I hope your readership will also read my book (title pending) when it joins the conversation that you, Sarah McCammon (The Exvangelicals), Brittany Means (Hell if We Don’t Change Our Ways), and Tia Levings (forthcoming, A Well-Trained Wife) have broken open with your work. Thank you for writing, for telling your story, and encouraging women “to ask good questions and not be afraid of the answers”–truly the essence of our journey.
LikeLike
Hi Andi, thanks for the note, it’s so great to connect with you! I hope you enjoy Nice Churchy Patriarchy, and I wish you all the best in your own book journey – please keep me posted, I’ll look forward to reading it when it comes out!
LikeLike
Liz, I appreciate this broad overview of your journey. I was a lay minister in a Christian church years ago, for several years. Even though my church was progressive, as an openly lesbian feminist white woman, it was brutal trying to navigate through the hypocrisy embedded in liturgy and collective assumptions. I have since left the church and now embrace Earth based spirituality but the ground of how to “do” belief began in Christianity. I am deeply grateful for the challenges I faced because they made my more loving toward everyone of any faith today.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Terry! I can only imagine the brutality, and I admire your resilience! Love the idea of Earth-based spirituality that perhaps incorporates some of what you found good and grounding in Christianity.
LikeLike
Thank you, Liz, for sharing about this journey you’ve been on. It is not an easy one, for sure – the inclination to the “One Way,” for all manner of things, is such a hard one for people to let go of, and for Christian folks in particular I think. I love that you have found more of your own voice and are sharing it with others!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So hard, and so good! Thank you so much, Xochitl!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your courage in questioning, Liz. Asking those sacred questions of ourselves and of each other and of Divinity is so essential to our living authentic and meaningful lives. And there are been so many wonderful questioning women here on FAR – I learn something from all of you — and throughout history. I’m currently reading about Julian of Norwich, a medieval woman who was brave enough to risk imprisonment and death by writing down her ideas words and those words are still relevant today because she deeply deeply questioned, referring to Divinity as Mother and writing about Divinity as a deeply loving being less interested in our sin than our well being. I look forward to reading more about your journey!
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Carolyn! Yes to asking sacred questions of ourselves and each other! So thankful for the courage and wisdom of every woman here – and so many who have gone before us (like Julian!).
LikeLike
Your book sounds interesting. Different views are important, we are individuated spirits, nobody is the same. I grew up within the Catholic faith, which as a woman was self esteem and self worth destroying. I am a white women though do not see myself as having privilege, growing up under patriarchy, I believed I had to be a slave, master and slaves, honestly! I am a spiritualist now and no longer a slave to any master, of any colors, I am free! I am an adult human female, not a cis woman and I refuse to use pronouns, this feels crazy to me. I believe that people can be them, do what you will and harm none is universal law, it’s what I believe, people can love who they want to love, full stop.
LikeLike
Thanks, Cate! Thankful for your journey and the freedom you’ve found!
LikeLike
Yeah, I am Liz and it is an ongoing journey, so much crap to clear to self realization. You have done a real deep dive into religion, sound like you are a truth seeker. Where is the best place to pick up your book?
LikeLike
When patriarchy so thoroughly permeates the OT and spills into the new NT, it takes time to separate the message from the patriarchy.
My more recent thought is the shift from the OT of children obey your parents, in the Lord, shifting to, children obey… and equally, fathers do not provoke your children.
Patriarchy is not the “law.” The resurrection of Jesus frees all of us from human domination and actions that don’t align with Christ’s message of redemption and love. If a person doesn’t treat others with that understanding, they lack any validity in dealing with other people.
No person should perceive their power as being unchallenged.
LikeLike
Thanks, Jasper. With you on always aiming for that Galatians 3:28 equality of all people.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have experienced in my upbringing how patriarchy has given room for emotionally abusive behaviour. I can only begin to imagine how women are affected by patriarchy.
LikeLike