“Frankly, I’m tired of hearing about ‘women in ministry’ in our church. We’ve focused enough on that issue. What I’m really concerned about are the men. Women are graduating at higher rates than men and there are more women attending churches than men. What are we doing to make sure that men are discipled, educated, and engaged in the life of the church? While we talk about women, the men are being left behind.”

This is one of the first conversations I had with a male employee after being hired as his supervisor. Having begun as a ministry intern at a multi-site megachurch, I was promoted into leadership over the small group ministry at one of the largest campuses, which already had two small group pastors shepherding the ministry (both of whom were male and more than 20 years my senior). It was from this vantage point that my male colleague shared his opinion. He saw, quite clearly, that the women in our context were educated and engaged. But instead of seeing this as a gift or strength of our church, he saw it as a threat. Women were being supported too much in his view, and this perceived emphasis was taking away opportunity from the men.

I was stunned by his bold proclamation. Sure, we had women serving as pastors in worship ministry, children’s ministry, women’s ministry, on the creative team, and in various administrative roles. And he was right about how capable and educated the women in our church were. But when it came to pastoral leadership roles that included oversight of adult women AND men, the ratio of women to men at that time dropped to around 1:10. This brother in Christ could show up to meeting after meeting, flanked by other men, and not think twice about who was missing from the room. He could receive invitations to conversations where decisions were being made for the entire church without noticing the absence of his sisters. He could show up to invitation-only, off-site hangouts with his pastoral colleagues, talk shop about the church, and build relationships across the church’s broad network of powerful men, and not notice the opportunities he was getting that were not available to me or my fellow sisters in ministry. He could do all of this while feeling under-supported as a man, and indignant about the “elevation” of women in ministry.

I don’t doubt that this brother was indeed feeling un- or under-supported in his ministry. What saddens me is that his instinct was to blame women, or women being supported by the church, as the source of the problem. This kind of zero-sum, US vs. THEM thinking pervades equity conversations, keeping us stuck in cycles of hurt, blame, finger-pointing, and self-protection. Our culture has taught us that there is only

so much power, influence, support, money, and fill-in-the-blank, to go around. It has conditioned us to fight for scraps in the kingdom of the world, while our heavenly Father invites us into the kingdom of the skies— a kingdom of endless resource and love, without scarcity, where there is always enough to go around. The kingdom of this world has taught us to “look out for me and mine.” It divides us into types and categories and turns us against one another. It forms (or rather deforms) us through subtle temptation to abdicate our responsibility to one another. If we are not careful, reflective, and repentant, we will find ourselves blaming those who suffer for their own suffering. We will be captivated by our fear of scarcity. We will find ourselves laying heavy burdens on the shoulders of others, not lifting a finger to remove them.

This is what happens when the work of mobilizing women to give their God-given gifts to the church and the world is framed primarily as “women’s work.” This framing places the burden of change on women, who do not have proportionate access to or influence over the policies and practices that are alienating and undermining them. It encourages women to connect with female mentors to build skills and then sends them into environments that are hostile to their skills and education. While the camaraderie and support systems that develop in this approach can be healthy, and many times life-giving to women who are caught in painful experiences of sexism and spiritual abuse, they are incapable of shifting the dominant cultures that they orbit.

As I shared in my opening story, I was a young woman serving in pastoral ministry leadership in a church where over 50% of the church congregation was female, but 90% of the adult leadership was male. I was tasked with supervising male colleagues who believed that supporting women in ministry undermined men. I was not allowed to meet alone with male colleagues (whom I was expected to develop and evaluate as a part of my job description) because of the Billy Graham rule. I wasn’t invited to extracurricular activities with my male peers. I was asked inappropriate questions and told by colleagues that they “feel sorry for my husband” when I shared assertively in meetings. The very environment that was designed to welcome and honor the leadership and gifts of my brothers was undermining me at every turn, in overt and subtle ways. The more success I had in ministry, the more it undermined my struggle in the eyes of my brothers. The more I advocated about my struggle, the more pushback I received from the system. In this framework, women who are working to undo misogyny in ministry are often repelled by the system like a rejected organ transplant. The church desperately needs them, but has been cultured to resist them.

It is at this stage of the conversation where the pendulum tends to swing to the other side, “If it’s not on women to heal gender inequity in the church, then it falls to the men.” And while this correction is necessary, it is also incomplete. It is true that men are essential to this issue, and men who take responsibility for rectifying this injustice are doing important work— accounting for existing power dynamics and becoming more accountable (and thereby powerful) in their peacemaking call as Christ-followers. However, placing the burden of mobilizing female leaders solely on men robs our brothers of the opportunity to learn with and from their sisters, and actually impedes their ability to support and lead healthy transformation in this arena. Men who honestly desire to engage in the work of mobilizing leadership in the women of their communities need the insight and wisdom of women to grow in their leadership and influence their churches and ministries in courageous and effective ways. Attempts to solve this problem for women instead of with women are bound to result in the unintended perpetuation of female subjugation in the church.

Another weakness of the “men only” approach is that it fails to recognize the harmful effects that misogyny has on men! We all have internalized bias against women, in culture and theology, and it affects each of us in different ways. Men suffer as they see the women they care about struggle under the burden of sexism. Men suffer as they contend with views of masculinity that abhor gentleness and nurture as feminine, and therefore inferior, qualities. Men whose leadership gifts don’t align with dominant norms are excluded alongside their sisters as they seek to obey Christ in their calling. Men who are comfortable in male normative cultures also suffer as they internalize harmful messages about their manhood and are consequently blinded to the kingdom wisdom embodied by their sisters and brothers who reflect the image of God to them in unexpected ways.

As I hope you can see— If we are going to lead our churches into a more equitable future, we have to do it TOGETHER. Scripture envisioned from the beginning that the human call to steward God’s creation would happen through the partnership of male and female. How appropriate that our repentance and healing would be found in our return to this beautiful vision. This vision isn’t just beautiful, or aspirational. It’s possible, and I’m going to share with you some practical ways to begin in our next segment.

Talk soon!

Ericka Henry