For those with eyes to see and ears to hear, there is an enormous elephant in the room of church sessions, presbyteries, and denominations. There is much talk of church planting, missions, doctrinal orthodoxy, and the rosiest versions of a given denominational history. Meanwhile men are harming their wives and calling it an exercise of their headship. Women, in those few times they can, are crying for help. And too often the church says nothing or says the wrong thing, strengthening the arms of the oppressor, and women are destroyed. Men may be told to lighten up and take it easy, but are not held accountable for destructively distorting the privilege of headship.

I returned recently from teaching a course in London on the theological ontology of woman in relationship to the biblical divorce texts, with a special interest in the nature of abuse and of ecclesiastical responsibilities in difficult cases. To be sure, my own pastoral experience in the last decade has driven me to appreciate the urgency of these questions. But it is not my experience alone.

For those with eyes to see and ears to hear, there is an enormous elephant in the room of church sessions, presbyteries, and denominations. There is much talk of church planting, missions, doctrinal orthodoxy, and the rosiest versions of a given denominational history. Meanwhile men are harming their wives and calling it an exercise of their headship. Women, in those few times they can, are crying for help. And too often the church says nothing or says the wrong thing, strengthening the arms of the oppressor, and women are destroyed. Men may be told to lighten up and take it easy, but are not held accountable for destructively distorting the privilege of headship. Women, at least those who have enough stamina left to get this far, are being told they aren’t submitting enough or it’s really not that bad. There’s precious little evidence in church leaders of the unflinching prophetic, messianic, and apostolic invective against the oppressor. There are good church leaders doing good work on this front, but it appears they are too few. And in places where they aren’t too few, perhaps they are too quiet.

For the past several years, I’ve received many e-mails and phone calls telling me versions of this alarmingly common story. Surprisingly to me, many of the contacts come from people I’ve never met or heard of. They are ministers pleading for help in dealing with a rogue elder or two, sometimes facing the prospect of a congregational split; sessions unsure of how to handle the misconduct of a presbytery or member; women at their wit’s – and even faith’s – end. And then there are the students who tell me their own dark stories, stories made far darker by the failure of church leaders to protect the vulnerable. Add to this the invariably personal dimension to anyone’s exploration of the topic: we all know someone close to us, and usually in our family, who has a story like this.

Last year I was in a first conversation with a new friend, a seminary professor in the area specializing in pastoral theology. We were in many ways opposites of each other, theologically and ecclesiastically, yet she was clearly a thoughtful and experienced servant who had seen many, many things over the years… Eventually I proposed…a scenario in which an abusive but publicly magnanimous husband might be supported by church leaders and several misled members of the congregation while the wife unravels more and more behind the scenes. I said nothing more than this, and in fact the profile fit several situations I have heard about and seen over the years. This woman leaned in and said, “And I’ll bet they wanted to make him an elder, didn’t they?”

Read More