“I didn’t see a woman do that until I was 23.”

A brief story that conveys why I'm grateful for women who teach (one woman in particular!) and why the world is already different for my kids

Visibility matters

Shortly after Christa and I got married and moved to California in 2008, we had a startling conversation after church one day. I don’t remember all that was said, but I recall Christa focussing on something that should have been normal, mundane even. We talked about the gathering and how we noticed something happen that we’d never seen before: a woman pass an offering plate. Christa noticed it first and pointed the novelty out. After thinking back on my own experience, I realized it was true for me too. We’re not talking about a female president, church denominational leader, pastor, or preacher. But a woman passing an offering plate!

In my SBC context growing up, only deacons did that, and deacons were only male, because the Bible was clear, I was told. You’d think simply handing a bowl out for someone to put an envelope into was not a big deal. Except, it was because of who was excluded from being able to do it. To the ones who did it week after week, they probably thought nothing of it. But no one ever said why women couldn’t do that out loud. Because it was visible, though, it had the power to create narratives in that space. Leaving women out said something about their value to anyone who paid even a little bit of attention. This power to convey meaning obviously escalates significantly the more we platform certain things in our churches, like preaching and teaching, worship-leading, mission work, and more.

Beyond having women pass the offering plates, this church we served among in 2008 was also the first one where I heard a woman preach to a mixed, adult audience. It was the first space where Christa had the invitation to speak about God’s word to the whole congregation. She’d spoken to youth groups many times before and audiences where grown-up men were scattered throughout, but never in a formal, this-matters-to-everyone sort of space. I’ve written about this church experience before and how it marks an inspiring time in our lives. And while our overall journey with women being dignified (or not) in the broader church may seem a bit extreme to some folks where we live now (New Zealand Baptists publicly affirm female leaders in churches), the reality in this land suggests suggests we have a long way yet to go.¹ To be fair, the journey to affirm women in churches takes time and involves painful moments, even with broad agreement and the best of intentions (for more, see this Christianity Today article by Gaby Viesca, Egalitarianism is More than a PR Statement.).

Johnny and Raya look on as Christa speaks to thousands of students at Southern Easter Camp in Christchurch, NZ.

My kids already have a different narrative

I say all this to contextualize a significant moment I had recently. This past Easter, Christa and I, along with our kids, were able to attend Southern Easter Camp just outside of Christchurch, New Zealand. For my non-Kiwi readers, Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and Easter Monday are public holidays in New Zealand, resulting in four consecutive days off of school, and work for most people. Supermarkets, cafes, and pretty much everything except the odd convenience store close for Good Friday and Easter Sunday. The weekend is the last long weekend for a few months, and usually still warm enough to enjoy the beach, a hike, or some other outdoor activity. So, unlike my experience across America, Easter is NOT when heaps of people pour into churches—quite the opposite, in fact.

Easter is, however, a popular time for young people to go to camp. Easter camps occur across the country here, and more than three thousand students attended Southern Camp, where we visited. Christa was invited to speak on the main stage one night (and wasn’t the only woman to speak either), and she also delivered a couple workshops.

It was during these times of her teaching when I was reminded of our conversation more than fifteen years ago after church. As my kids sat backstage and listened to their mom speak on the unexpected work of God through the genealogy of Jesus and the (mostly Gentile) women mentioned in Matthew’s gospel, I couldn’t help but get lost in the power of that moment. They’ll never grow up saying, “I didn’t see a woman do that before.”

The kids joined Christa on stage as she taught a seminar. This did not last long, because one of our kids shouted something to do with butts, which may have undermined our whole intent.

The same is true for the those who attended the camp. And maybe they won’t ever recall what was said from the stage, but perhaps many will remember who said it, a woman gifted to teach. Maybe many won’t even think twice about that fact because it is already normal to them—how cool would that be! While it took us 23 years to see a woman pass an offering plate at church, my children have grown up in a world where what was exceptional to me is normal to them. And scores of others have similar experiences today because of women like Christa, who walk in their gifting to teach.

What about you?

But I do know that nearly all women who have stepped faithfully into those spaces have had difficulties and faced opposition. Many have had to answer questions and defend themselves when men (some less qualified, even) have never had to do the same thing—I have a few stories of my own that illustrate this. Maybe you’re a woman who has traversed a similar path, and maybe some have sought to deter you from what you know you were made for. For the sake of our church, for daughters and sons like my own, for those with narratives that need some imagination and inspiration, and for those longing to be seen, I hope you follow that call, even when it’s scary. Writing new stories that give permission and shine light into dark spaces usually are.

Do you have an example of something like this happening? Something you’ve seen that inspired you to pursue a calling? A person who embodied something you never saw before? I’d love to hear from you.

Thanks for reading Grumpy Ramblings!

1. In 2017, less than 8% of 234 NZ Baptist churches had a female senior or sole pastor: https://women.baptist.nz/pondering-why-few-women-are-senior-pastors-in-baptist-churches/.

Highlighting “senior” or “sole” pastors represents a limited metric, in my opinion, because it is usually the primary means by which we show what we care most about. For example, we pay pastors, we call them, we listen to them, we trust them. If women are not in that space, it probably means we don’t value them as much, or there is some sort of disconnect between theory and practice. Churches that have either singular leadership models, or models where there is an individual tasked with more responsibility (and possibly authority) for the livelihood of the entire congregation are the norm. And while I’d prefer to view this sort of model as a concessional reality, perhaps necessary or “best” for a time, they are not without their problems when it comes to living out the aspirational distincives of NZ Baptist theology.

The common model places emphasis on individual leaders to the point where they become more critical than any other member of the body of Christ. Leadership is a gift of the Spirit, and therefore essential to the whole body of believers, but I would urge churches to interrogate if and where we have elevated its importance above (and, at times, to the exclusion of) the rest of the critical, Spirit-gifted parts of the body of Christ. For more on my thoughts on the church, including how leadership plays a role, see my Christ-centered community series.