I used to hang onto my pastor’s every word, believing him to be the source of nearly infallible Protestant wisdom, not to mention flagrant sex appeal. He’d pace along the skirt of the stage, wired to roam from the pulpit to draw nearer to us, the unwashed masses. Animated, dimpled, and athletic, he’d often produce a prop or two—a rake, a ladder, a telephone—to enliven his illustrations. I’d sit in my pew near the front, admiring his insight, trying to ignore the flatness of his stomach. How was he able to produce so many answers to life’s questions? He could take a passage from the Bible—often an entire book—and reduce it to a formula that, if followed by all participants (say a husband, wife, and their children), was a fail-safe recipe for happiness or, at the very least, success. He’d often develop catchphrases or acronyms by which to remember these various formulas. Using the book of Proverbs as a child-rearing manual, he’d come up with “Plead and Pray.” Parents committed to their children’s spiritual prosperity could be assured of it by simply imploring God for decades if that’s what it took. (Of course, parents like me, aware that I had done far more to undermine rather than to promote God’s grace within my household, wondered whether this formula were somewhat more complex than my sexy pastor would have me believe. Methinks I was onto something.) If only I could fulfill all the required steps that would guarantee a harmonious, Christ-centered household; then I, my husband, and our kids might be truly happy, might resemble my pastor’s family, whose photo had graced the cover of a Christian periodical, each family member smiling broadly, picnic basket hanging from his wife’s arm. They seemed to enjoy spending time together, even when it was not mandated.
Whenever Pastor would encounter a thorny passage of scripture, he’d rely on his animal magnetism to charm the crowd, especially the ladies—most frequently on the receiving end of said scriptures. Pastor liked to assure women that while we were not permitted to teach men and/or to share in pastoral duties, it was not due to our inferiority. He’d read a scripture, perhaps one emphasizing the requirement of women to submit to their husbands or to keep silent in the church. He’d then adopt this facial expression while shrugging his shoulders, his palms upturned.
Women were, he insisted, "differently gifted." As such, on at least one occasion, Pastor maintained, "Women will never serve as elders in this church." To make such concessions would be hijacking God's will for men, women, and the Church at large. Despite the crowd-pleasing Magnum P. I. impersonation he employed at such times, Pastor's use of the intended euphemism "differently gifted" made me feel like an acne-ravaged teenager who's been told she has a good personality or the intellectually-disadvantaged person who's been branded "special." His very coinage suggested female parishioners were too stupid to notice what he was doing.
I recently visited my former church’s Web site to see whether anything has changed since I gave my notice. I don’t know why I do this to myself. Strike that. Yes, I do. I’m still trying to make sense of a twenty-first century organization within a first-world country—endorsed by thousands of local people—that skews scripture, advocating messages that aid and abet various manifestations of abuse— some inadvertent, some not. While I was once a long-time promoter and purveyor of such doctrines, I have since pieced together the jaggedy, lacerating evidence that helps me solve untold crimes, some done unto me, others done by me. It doesn’t take much Web site browsing for me to see that the women of my former church still ride shotgun (when they’re lucky). I click one tab to see the list of pastors’ names, the men in authority, who make the rules and run the joint. I click another tab to view a somewhat out-of-focus photo of dozens of church elders, each equipped with male genitalia (I assume). Based on this evidence, it appears Pastor was also a prophet as pertaining to the abiding roles of women within this church.
Women, however, are not ignored on this Web site; they even have an acronym of their own: W: hole-hearted Devotion to God O: Open to Love M: Ministry Minded E: Eternal Perspective (this can often be read as "grin and bear it, sister; Heaven awaits you") N: New identity in Christ. They also have a logo, pink, magenta, and rose-laden. Click one tab to see the names of women who direct various children's ministries, including the nursery. Another click takes me to a list of women's ministries, which include a number of crafts and fitness programs. Within these tabs, the ultra-feminine women's ministry director describes women as various types of flowers, encouraging them to "bloom," "grow," and become a part of God's bouquet. And we all know how much God needs a bouquet.
Click yet another tab to see a list of available women's Bible study offerings. Evidently some of the flowers within this all-female bouquet are prone to wilting. This Bible study is sure to nip that problem in the bud. At the very least, it will ensure that fundamentalist women blame their own evil tendencies when it comes to being or not being miserable. Following this author's prescription may lead to perkiness. Or to guilt-induced gloom and anxiety.
Blaming the victim is the M.O. of people who have all the answers, and yet, as a former abuser and abusee, I can pretty much guarantee that many of these folks--especially the women--do not intend to perpetuate abuse. I'd go so far as to guess that most of them want what many of us want or have wanted: easy, sure-fire answers that solve problems, guarantee success, and occasionally, incite happiness. Nevertheless, until fundamentalist Christian women repudiate flattery and charming wile, dare to pose relentless questions about assigned roles and appropriated power, refuse to be reduced to insulting metaphors: pretty, sweet-smelling, yet superfluous, these systems will continue to thrive, wreaking underground devastation. In the midst of such systems, however, are women like I was, abused and believing that their inferior status requires them to tolerate relegation and to pursue perfection, believing--praying-- that if they can only fulfill Steps 1-6, things will turn around for them. Blaming themselves when that proves to be untrue.
