Jun 29, 2012
Women in Ministry Series: When We Can’t Change God’s Creation
I first learned about Jen Luitwieler when she released her book about becoming an accidental runner because her dog kept pooping in her craft room/office. She wrote a hilarious and inspiring book about it that you need to read soon. Jen has a real gift for encouragement and a passion for equality that I’m delighted she’s sharing with us today:
Unlike other contributors to this fantastic series, I do not have a story of overcoming institutional oppression. I cannot wax poetic about shattering the stained glass ceiling with my particular brand of awesome. I cannot show you the scars from my shackles and share the balm for my wounds with you.
What I do have is a deep and constant stream of encouragement and empathy for those who have buckled under the lies we’ve been fed, as women in the church. I have seen how it can work, how we can operate according to our creation rather than our biology. I have seen it, and it is good.
The church of my youth sounds almost perfect in this context; women and men worked together without so much as a batted eyelash. Women served in the pulpit, the lectern, the office, the mission field. No big whoop. It makes sense that my family would be involved with a church like this since our home was as egalitarian as they come. Everyone did their share. No one was too weak or too strong to do dishes or cut the grass.
There was a time when I tried to swallow the lie. After we married and moved from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma, the lie was served up on the good china, garnished with a saccharine smile and a tall sweet tea. I was shocked to learn that in some churches, women pursed their lipsticked mouths closed. The "one piece swimsuit rule," about which I had never thought, taught me that women were responsible for men’s lust. I didn’t know that women were "born to serve their husbands." No one told me that women don’t pray in mixed company. I did not get the memo about women only leading other women.
Despite a protest from ever single fiber in every single part of me, I tried to become that sweet young thang who nods her head quietly while her husband speaks the same words of wisdom she herself would say if she could force the words out of her mouth. You guys, I even tied a red ribbon on my ponytail on the fourth of July, something my family back in Pittsburgh would have mocked me ceaselessly for doing. (I’m not, nor have I ever been, a ribbon in the hair kind of gal. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
I bucked against it even while I tried to choke it down, its bitterness a costume I tried to apply from the inside out. If I could just learn to be quiet. If I could just learn to keep my opinions in check. If I could not thrust my hand out for a firm shake with everyone we met, asserting my individuality as I was taught.
It didn’t take. I sat on my hands. I looked demurely at my husband, biting my tongue in Sunday School. For like, a day. The good news is, my husband never wanted me to be someone other than the woman he married. My church never asked me to zip my lip or stay in children’s ministry. I had the opportunities to teach anywhere I was called: men, women and children. Mixed company even!
I tasted that lie. I held it on my tongue, letting the bitterness spread, feeling compelled by outward mandates to swallow it, no questions asked. I could not hold it on my tongue any more than I could have forced it into my gut. I could not believe that I was drawn toward leadership in direct opposition to the way God had made me. I could not believe that women are incapable, or weak or anything other than made for His good purposes.
When I read the other stories from this series, when I am told by my friends of their systemic oppression by a community that is called to love, I get fired up. I taste that lie again and I want to rally the troops, to dilute the horrid aftertaste for my sisters who are crumpling under it. I want to gather them in to me, to tell them the truth: that they, we, are created by a loving God to use the gifts he gave us, and that it can happen, in this lifetime, on this earth.
About Today’s Guest Blogger
Jen Luitwieler is a wife, mom, homeschooler, seamstress, doula and author in Tulsa, OK. Her book Run with Me: An Accidental Runner and the Power of Poo, was released in September 2011. She writes monthly pieces on craft and sports and blogs about running, faith and writing at jenniferluitwieler.com. She knows she’s going to hear something about the "one piece rule."
Connect with Jen on twitter: jenluit and facebook: jenluitwieler
Next Week’s Blogger: Summer Groenendal
Preach it! Really, preach it. Loved not just the message, but the way you wrote it, Jennifer.
Thanks, J.B. My dad used to say, “Look out when she gets on a tear.” I think he meant it in a good way!
Jen, this is wonderful and makes me love you all the more. Keep singing, sister.
Thanks, Suzannah. Some day we shall meet in the Ohio Valley and hug and laugh and smile. Give my friend Annie a hug from her mama’s friend.
Jen’s post made me realize that I best never move south…because I am not so sure I can play the role she describes without cracking (mentally) or ticking whole bunch of folks off.
It also made me thankful that I live in PA. Egalitarianism must be the norm here (or in the Northeast). For that, I am super thankful!
My friend in Alabama calls me “unfiltered” because I don’t shy away from being firmly grounded in what I believe and speaking my mind.
There are a TON of unfiltered women in the Bible. And when my blog is ready, it’ll be one of the first posts I write.
Unfiltered for the win! And Jen is leading the way…
It took me, for real, about ten years to get used to this place. Having talked with my parents, I agree that this is in large part regional. But, I’m sure that it matters which flavor of church one attends. There are plenty of strict/conservative/inser correct word here types of congregations in rural PA.
Unfiltered. Yeah. I’ll be thinking about that for a while. On the one hand, we need to be free to express our ideas freely. On the other hand, there’s a right way to do it, so as to contribute to the dialogue rather than to create more conflict. Then again…it’s always best to be who we are and say what we need to say.
Hi Jen! Unfiltered isn’t meant to be a negative… like an unfiltered cigarette or gritty coffee grounds at the bottom of a good cup of coffee.
Think about the women in the Bible… they were not afraid to reach out, speak up, believe first, etc., etc. They were, I believe, unfiltered.
They spoke from their souls and hearts.
They didn’t sit back and let society tell them how to behave, feel, speak (to men) or teach (men) — especially when they were hurting.
For years I have struggled with not being “politically correct” or “professionally correct.” It’s only been this past year that I have realized God made me who I am. For a reason. For His reason.
I am passionate, I believe in fairness, I believe in the truth, I believe in… oh so many things that go against society’s grain.
I am…unfiltered.
Have a wonderful weekend! Blessings to you and all you do for us women of faith.
B.
Hey, Beth. I didn’t read it negatively! I totally get it. And agree wholeheartedly.
Words are so tricky, layered. I have a friend without a filter, but it can be…inappropriate, or off putting. I guess the difference would be her language can be rauchy, whereas when I am “unfiltered” it is usually regarding faith or justice or politics.
And I’m still filtered around certain family members because the unfiltered version would only create more tension. I just my mouth because the cost/benefit doesn’t work out, for me, in that situation.
But like you, it took me a while to stop biting my tongue. Now, I still care about other’s opinions, but they aren’t more valuable than mine.
I am your last paragraph. Love to you, my new friend. J
Oh, I didn’t think you did take it negatively.
But the term itself does sound… um, not very refined. Which I think is what a lot people strive to be. Refined, perfect, appropriate…
I guess that’s why I like it. It’s pure, raw, etc.
Sure, I am still “filtered” in certain situations and I, too, respect people’s opinions.
But it takes a deep understanding of self to know when it’s appropriate to be unfiltered and when other people are completely filtered. Only then can we make a difference.
For some reason, I can’t reply down below, but this is to your last commetn. This just proves to me that someday maybe when I’m back east we’ll have coffee and sit and agree with each other for an hour or so. Because yes to all of that.
You are wise. It does take a deep sense of self, and the ability to zip it (which I do not always possess) to know when to be which, filtered or not.
I like you, woman. Hope we get more time to chat. These are important conversations.
Jen, one of the biggest shocks being overseas was being around Americans from other parts of the country and having them tell Chinese friends about this or that aspect of life in America. Let’s just say that I was experiencing a larger cultural divide with them at times than the Chinese! (probably not really, but it felt that way
). Thanks for the post!
If we think about it, America is pretty stinking big. The ways we do things in PA are different, vastly from the ways we do things in Oklahoma. Not all differences equal wrongness. There are plenty of women here who love and are perfectly content to wear their red ribbons.
“It can happen, in this lifetime, on this earth” – Yes.
thansk, Smucker.
[...] more? You know you do. I can see it in your face. Get on over here and read the rest. Have a super Friday. I know I will. I’m at the [...]
I had a similar experience, so thanks for sharing your perspective. When you’ve seen women be effective in those roles the whole idea that they should be restricted just seems ludicrous! Thankful for pastors and church boards who “get it” – we just need more of them!
Truth. When you see how it can work, without one ounce of trouble or conflict, it seems like, “well, duh!” I guess I just want to encourage others who are under a burden, being called to the pulpit or the mission field and getting big time run around, couched in Scripture. Thanks, Gail. Glad there’s more than one woman with a positive story.
Thank you, Jen. More than anything else, I am grateful that you have a husband who did not drink the Kool-Aid … even as you felt obligated to taste it.
Some of us have not been that fortunate … and that is a particularly harsh place in which to find oneself, because there is no place from which to escape, no time when you can exhale, no partnership of unity from which to forge a firm place to stand.
But the greatest good news (which doesn’t always feel good) is that there is, under all the brokenness, a truly firm foundation which, planned before the creation of the world, has been laid by Christ Jesus.
And he bids me follow him and put to death the things of the flesh that hinder my growth toward Christlikeness. Some things die pretty hard — like the myth of Christian Marriage, rather than a marriage of Christian brother and sister. Issues of power and control make real relationships so very difficult to cultivate.
Thank you for sharing … and bless you, sister.
Peggy, I am also grateful for this man who loves me. Of course, there’s a reason we’re married; he and I work well together, and there is no control or power plays. We like to joke about it, not very hilariously, about who’s in charge at our house. Probably, if any one is in charge, it’s The Dog.
And I do know that my sisters are not as fortunate. That many are in marriages of oppression, in churches of oppression, and that’s what keeps me taliking, because it truly breaks me. Where can one go to talk if one can’t go to her husband.
Peace, my friend.
…I’ll take that peace, sister!
Nineteen years into marriage to the nicest man has revealed — in just the past few years — that many Christians do not understand what it means to have a dynamic relationship with anyone — especially Jesus. This is a hard reality to face when it can no longer be hidden (read: when life is really hard and tests your faith).
But … I am trusting Jesus, who must be the husband of my heart (finally, he whispers?) … and walk the path one step at a time. I am confident his cHesed is enough — if I can just get a grip on the emotionally-charged dream-gone-south (no pun intended).
Why do we so often feel like all our stories must be the same? I have to remind myself, now and again, how I came to be known as AbiSomeone!
I’m not sure I totally understand what you’re saying, but it sounds like you’re walking through a valley, and it also sounds like you know He’s got your back (and your front and your sides, tops and bottoms).
In another discussion I was having today about women and sexuality (within the context of the Christian Grey novels, which I have not read), someone really wise made a comment about the myth of Christian marriage, and made a case rather for two people who are Christians being married. That sounds like a smart distinction to make.
That said, I’m not sure that’s exactly what you’re getting at, but I do know this. Living a life of faith is hard. Marriage is hard. And there is hope. There is always, if there is nothing else, hope.
Hehehe, sometimes I don’t what I’m saying either
. … but it has something to do with how we — men and women, both — have been taught to believe the exact opposite of what you said … that the life of Faith should be easy and that, if you marry the right person and all, that marriage should be easy — and especially, raising children is easy.
I call it Utopian Frontier Life … that looks enchanting in a Louis L’Amor movie, but misses the reality that lots of children died young, lots of mothers died in childbirth, and for the men, they really just seemed to need lots of hands for the farm and someone to wash, cook, mend and doctor. At the end of the day everyone was too tired to worry about talking and all that relationship nonsense.
We’d have made a good frontier family … except I would have died when our first son was born, and he’d have been one of those sad men looking for a woman to care for his new baby…and our second and third sons would have never existed.
Thank you for this space to ramble, friend. And while hope is a powerful truth, it is sometimes hard to see in the darkness. But without the darkness, the beauty of the moon and stars is dimmed….
It is a mystery why some have such a difficult road and others seem to sail along smoothly. I have called this The Purple Martyrdom … and trust that God is actively at work making something beautiful out of the suffering.
Perseveringly yours….
I love when you get fired up, Jen! Keep speaking these words of truth and wisdom.
You might be the only one! Can you see me all eye brows arched and finger wagging? Thanks Leigh.
I grew up in a very egalitarian church – and it just wasn’t talked about – women just got on with it! It wasn’t an issue. Then in university it was a big issue…the pressure to conform without having looked deeply at the Bible is great, whatever side you’re on…
It’s great to hear as Amy said that not all US churches are stifling women’s ministry – it’s so easy to succumb to the stereotype!
Blessings.
Great point. College is the great experiment, where we reawlize suddenly that really not everyone is like us! Add the Bible and various interpretations (and agendas) to that and you’ve got a recipe for some serious identity confusion.
I think when we continue to ask questions, and pray for wisdom, we will be closer to surrending to God’s view of us, not the world’s suggestions about who and how we should be.
I like the way you told your story!
The cultural pressure started to squeeze in, but you stayed true to yourself, and I would say to God as well, being the woman he wants you to be.
Thank you, Big Screen Big Time. You’re one tough (and insightful) reader, so thanks! You are the bizniz.
Jen, you shed the oppression well and utilize the strength derived from that exercise to support the oppressed, thank you.
We ignore the infinite differences each of our fellow travelers have to offer us as support through our journey. We try to make every other fit into the perception of ourselves.
There is male, female and intersexed human bodies today. No sexuality is exactly the same as another. Instinctive sexuality has a primary function of keeping mankind alive and a secondary function of promoting relationship.
There is every point
… of the spectrum of gender seemingly around us everyday. The are extremely effeminate males and females all the way to extremely masculine males and females.
All of our fellows of Man can equally fulfill the law according to Luke 10:25-37. Our neighbor is truly each of us who can love like children with enough mercy and tolerance to accept the support of our divine Parent and the productive differences we each possess. You do, thank you.
Jen, as someone who has known you since your early feminist days in Pittsburgh, this image is as horrifying as it is hilarious: “I tried to become that sweet young thang who nods her head quietly while her husband speaks the same words of wisdom she herself would say…”
I am so thankful for all the ways God has upheld you and affirmed you—through your parents, your husband, and your killer knack for seeing through the lies and telling it like it is.