it is not good for man to be alone

If you have been reading along these past couple of months, you know I have been wrestling with a doctrine that has thus far governed most of my life in some way: the doctrine of complementarianism (defined here, if you need a refresher). This struggle is coming to a head now as my church considers a new pastoral candidate who is, to put it plainly, a very hardcore complementarian. Here’s his complete “statement of belief” as it regards the roles of men and women:

I believe God has created men and women as equal in the image of God, thus they are equal of value and worth to God. Men and women also have equal access to the spiritual blessings found in Christ and are of equal value to the church. God, in creation, has designed men and women to fill and serve in distinct roles in the home and the church. Women are designed and ordained by God to follow and submit to the leadership of qualified men in the church, and her husband in the home as a willing helper. Men are designed and ordained by God to take on a leadership role in their family, being called as the head of their household to provide, protect, and lead their family. God has also called certain, qualified men to lead churches in the office of pastor/elder. God has reserved the office and function of pastors/elders to only men. The fall of humanity in sin introduced distortion to these God-given roles, as women became inclined to usurp male authority, and men abused their authority in leadership. Yet, through the redemption found in Christ, men should lead churches and their families with selfless, Christlike care and women should joyfully submit to the God-given authority in their home and the church, as both men and women seek to live under the supreme authority of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Ten years ago, this statement would not have raised a single red flag for me. I’d have agreed with every word of it and celebrated that our church was gaining someone who was clearly taking God’s commands seriously. I was ready and willing to be that “joyfully submissive” woman because that’s what I believed would make God happy—never stopping to question the logic, to test the facts, or to examine the fruit.

But when you have actually been forced to eat some of the fruit of hardcore complementarianism like this, as I since have, you do not soon forget the way your stomach roiled from its rot.

The taste of that rot is what initially sent me into the last half-decade of study—but it is no longer the only red flag I see. Yes, complementarianism’s produce has proved putrid in my life and in the lives of millions of other women (and men) left in its wake, but beyond that alone, I’ve found that this doctrine also crumbles when measured against the big picture of God’s Word or the good news of the Gospel.

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Our pastoral candidate’s above statement includes the following sentence: “God, in creation, has designed men and women to fill and serve in distinct roles in the home and the church.” But this statement cannot be corroborated by the creation accounts of Genesis 1 & 2, and in fact, Genesis indicates the exact opposite. Men and women are very clearly designed in creation as equals and co-rulers over Creation, and given the exact same vision to carry out:

Then God said, “Let Us make mankind in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the livestock and over all the earth, and over every crawling thing that crawls on the earth.” So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. God blessed them; and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

Genesis 1:26-28

To get anything other than total equality of value, role, and design out of this passage, you must 1) read Genesis through the lens of Paul (which is a faulty hermeneutic—Paul was informed by Genesis, but Genesis was not informed by Paul) or 2) assume that Paul’s theology fundamentally contradicts the theology laid out in Genesis (which would throw into question the cohesion and inerrancy of the Bible). The only difference between the two created beings that Genesis offers is that one is male and one is female. All other perceived distinctions are inferences we make on the text through the lens of how we have interpreted later parts of the Bible or through the lens of our particular circumstances and culture.

As far as Genesis is concerned, all humans are designed to hold an identical role and fulfill an identical purpose: to image God, rule Creation, and multiply on the earth.

Could you say that they do so in different ways, because one is a male and one is a female? Of course—that’s why there are two of them, so that each can capture uniquely the male and female characteristics of God as they rule over and carry out His vision for Creation—together a complete picture. But these unique attributes do not inevitably lead to a difference or distinction in “roles” at home or in the church. The role is the same for them both: to image God.

It’s long been a flaw in our understanding of the sexes, I believe, to think of them as opposites. We are not opposites, we are counterparts. We aren’t made to oppose each other, but to correspond to one another. Therefore, it’s not necessary to put one in the place of perpetual leader and the other in the place of designated follower; the real vision is that of Ephesians 5:21: “Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.”

Notice what God said when He decided to create the woman:

Then the LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper corresponding to him.”

Genesis 2:18 CSB

Much has been made of that word, “helper.” Whole books have been written using it to prove that women are “designed” (as the above complementarian statement claims) to follow and submit to male leadership. But we know Hebrew interpretation and translation better than this! A faithful understanding of the Hebrew word ezer recognizes that this term is used elsewhere in the Bible in two ways:

1. To describe military powers who sweep in as allies to help God’s people

2. To describe God Himself who intervenes to rescue His people in their time of need

Far from putting women into a position of divinely designed subjugation, this description elevates women to the role of godlike deliverer—one who is uniquely empowered to stand as an ally with those in need. And this isn’t about making dinner for your hardworking husband. When God says “It is not good for man to be alone,” He isn’t saying “Men are helpless and need wives”—He actually doesn’t even use the term for a man, but the term for mankind. It is not good for mankind to try to operate without the corresponding alliance of womankind, or for womankind to operate without the corresponding alliance of mankind.

Paul agrees:

However, in the Lord, neither is woman independent of man, nor is man independent of woman. For as the woman originates from the man, so also the man has his birth through the woman; and all things originate from God.

1 Corinthians 11:11-12

We need each other. Only together can we represent God appropriately. And yet the leadership structure of whole churches and denominations is built on a requirement of men operating without the corresponding alliance of women.

No wonder the fruit of this doctrine is not good.

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Another portion from this complementarian statement of belief that catches my attention is as follows: “The fall of humanity in sin introduced distortion to these God-given roles, as women became inclined to usurp male authority, and men abused their authority in leadership.” While I believe the intent with this statement is to introduce a better way through Christ, I can’t help but ask: Why are we, His Church, basing our doctrine on a reaction to the Fall rather than on the proactive building of the Kingdom?

The verse he’s referring to is Genesis 3:16:

To the woman He said,

“I will greatly multiply
Your pain in childbirth,
In pain you shall deliver children;
Yet your desire will be for your husband,
And he shall rule over you.”

In the deeply complementarian circles I come from, this verse was treated as a condemnation of women and a mandate for men. Something like, “Man, keep your woman in her place, or she will destroy you.” If you didn’t grow up in this kind of church culture (or if you did, but you’re not female), try to imagine for a moment what it would be like to have this verse spoken as truth against you. It breaks my heart to think of all the women who still, subconsciously, believe themselves to be innately dangerous and in need of pressing down to preserve the pride and position of men.

In my view, this verse is actually one of the most clarifying anti-complementarian passages in all of Scripture. It captures the new reality for women after sin distorts the scene, in which the ones who were supposed to co-rule Creation as equal counterparts with men become that which is ruled over instead. It’s not that men began to abuse their God-given authority, as the above statement claims; it’s that men began to claim rule and authority over women that God did not give them, and Woman would be left with an unmet longing for the proper position of dignity and equality she once held at Man’s side—a longing she would learn to weaponize against him.

But instead of setting their eyes on the Edenic vision and striving to replicate it, the complementarian church seems bent on reacting to the reality of the Fall—therefore, inadvertently, upholding it.

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The question I’d most like hardcore complementarians to answer is, what is the Good News for women?

When Jesus came, He opened His ministry with a quote from Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the LORD is upon Me,
Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor.
He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set free those who are oppressed,
To proclaim the favorable year of the LORD.”

And He closed the book, gave it back to the attendant and sat down; and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him. And He began saying to them, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Luke 4:18-21

The “favorable year of the Lord,” or the “Year of Jubilee” as it was known in the Torah, is detailed in Leviticus 25. It came about after seven sets of seven years—every fiftieth year—and was marked by a complete rest for the land and its people, as well as a release of all debts and slaves. After 49 years of labor and toil, buying and selling, enslavement and indebtedness, God ordained a time for everything to be reset and made right once more.

You are to consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim freedom in the land for all its inhabitants. It will be your Jubilee, when each of you is to return to his property and each of you to his clan.

Leviticus 25:10

Jesus said that He came to bring the Jubilee. He came to proclaim freedom. He came to bring rest. He came to usher in the Kingdom.

And not just for heads of household, or for rulers, or for Pharisees, or for men. It was for everyone: Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female. Even those least valued or respected in society were invited to claim an equal share in this Good News. At long last, the Anointed One had come to reverse the effects of the Fall for good, to defeat the power of sin and death, and to make it possible for all humankind to share again in the vision of the Kingdom!

So why, oh why, are we trying so hard to keep this Christ-won reality from being true in our churches?

Why do we refuse to live fully by the truth that “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28)?

Why would the freedom proclaimed by Jesus in Luke 4 extend to everyone except women? Why would women be the only ones required to stay in the same position the Fall had left them in? Why wouldn’t the Good News be good for everyone?

I believe it is. And I believe that trying to make complementarianism work within the framework of the true Gospel demands that we bend ourselves into theological pretzels that God does not endorse. I’m not throwing out Paul; I’m asking that we place Paul into the larger context of the Scriptures he knew, loved, and believed. I think he would be horrified by where so many churches have landed on this issue, and by how little headway has been made in the last 2,000 years.

It’s time to proclaim freedom in the land for all its inhabitants, women included. Ultimately, whether in families or in churches or in public spaces, the fact remains: it is not good for man to be alone.

is He worthy?

My sister and I went to a Hebrew Bible conference last month, hosted by Multnomah University in Portland, Oregon. It was the first time in too many years that I got to be part of the kind of Biblical scholarship that I love—the deep treasure-mining with a community of people who care as much about it as I do—and I have a suspicion that I will look back one day and notice that it was a pivot point in my walk with God, though it’s too soon to tell.

I had just made public “What if you’re wrong?” two days before that event. It was a difficult article for me to write, and even more difficult to publish. Even though I love the question, it’s sometimes uncomfortable to share my answers when I know how different they may be from the conclusions of everyone else. (Yes, I am a chronic people-pleaser. Working on it.) It’s taken me years to even warm up to thinking about the possibility that complementarian theology is wrong, let alone to put that possibility in writing. I’m still not sure I’m brave enough to just state it straight out. I’ve been studying and reexamining and praying for so long, asking God to give me discernment so that I don’t just change my view because I like the alternative better; I’ve been asking Him to give me a clear calling or sense of direction if this is a battle I’m supposed to fight. In other words, I’ve spent much of the last ten years thinking and praying, but very little of them in action.

But then Saturday came, the day of the conference, and the second plenary talk of the day was given by Carmen Imes. It was titled, “Zipporah: Enigmatic Heroine of the Exodus.” And somehow, in 30 minutes devoted to one of the strangest passages in the Old Testament, Carmen brought the clarity I had been waiting for.

We think of Moses as the hero of Exodus. There are endless studies and sermons out there on who Moses was and how he led the people of Israel out of Egypt and the way he acts as a sort of model of the Messiah. And they’re warranted.

But the sermon I’ve never heard is the one about all the different women who saved, delivered, rescued Moses over the course of his life—from birth onward—without ever being formally commissioned to do so. Shiphrah, Puah, Jochebed, Miriam, Pharaoh’s daughter, and yes, even Zipporah: every single one of them acted boldly, intervened fearlessly, to do what they knew was right without being asked. Each of these women acted in defiance of Pharaoh, in defiance of evil. Without them, the revered hero of the Exodus would not have survived to obey his mission.

And I think this is a good example of where recent church history regarding gender roles falls tragically short: too many Christian women are waiting for a special calling or divine permission to do what needs to be done, because we have been taught for so long that the real danger is stepping on men’s toes. But we weren’t created to sit quietly until someone gives us the go-ahead to speak. We were created to be deliverers, rescuers, defenders, examples of fearless defiance against authorities that stand in opposition to our God. This is what it means to be an ezer kenegdo. This is what it means to be the “suitable helper” of the human race. It’s written right into God’s design for us in Genesis 2:18.

I have been unnecessarily waiting for a word from the Lord that He already gave. He’s already told me why I was created. He’s already made clear what obedience to that vision looks like. And it doesn’t look like waiting quietly for the men in power to give me permission to obey Him.

Shiphrah and Puah did not wait for Pharaoh’s edict to change to start saving baby Hebrew boys. Jochebed did not wait for Pharaoh’s edict to change to bear her second son and hide him from the Egyptians. Miriam did not wait for Pharaoh’s daughter to ask her for help before she spoke up on behalf of her brother; Pharaoh’s daughter did not even ask her father’s permission to rescue one of the death-sentenced Hebrew babies! And Zipporah didn’t wait for Moses to lead their family into the covenant of circumcision when she knew she could, and must, set their relationship right before Yahweh herself.

Women of Christ, we are not “extras” on a stage that spotlights male characters only. We are not the backup cast, to be called upon only if the A-team fails. We are the ezers—the ones specifically created to make good what was not good, to defend the defenseless, to rescue those who are discarded by the powerful, to lead our families and churches courageously into right relationship with Yahweh.

It is not good for man to be alone. Our voices are desperately needed in our marriages and our male-headed churches.

It’s going to be an uphill climb, and it’s likely to come at a cost. As a chronic people-pleaser, I quake just thinking about the implications of everything I’ve written here—and I don’t even have to fear being executed by Pharaoh! But the question I keep asking is, “Is He worthy?”

If I lose friends, is He worthy?

If I am shamed or rebuked by my church, is He worthy?

If people I care about no longer respect me or like me, is He worthy?

If I have to find an entirely new support system for obeying the call He carved into my bones, is He worthy?

He is.

the beginning and the end

My studies over the last few weeks and months have had me turning over the idea of “the beginning and the end” in a variety of ways. This is a familiar phrase from a few different Biblical passages, perhaps most famously the Book of Revelation, when Jesus claims this title for Himself:

“Behold, I am coming soon, and My reward is with Me, to give to each one according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”

Revelation 22:12-13

Interestingly, the last couple chapters of Revelation act as a mirrored bookend with Genesis 1-2—the beginning and the end of the story. They match, and they tell us so much about what comes in between. Genesis begins a conversation about who God is and how He intended Creation to work; Revelation then offers the final say on who God is and how He intends the New Creation to work. The middle is … messy, full of questions and contradictions and moments of uncertainty, where we watch humanity fail to carry out God’s intentions again and again.

It has me thinking about how we view the Bible generally: As the beginning of the conversation, or the end?

Most of the time, I’ve noticed, we use it as the end. To doubters, we hand verses. To questioners, we respond with verses. To people who would ask us to see something in shades of gray rather than black-and-white, we give verses.

We effortlessly throw verses at anyone who disagrees with us, makes us uncomfortable, or asks us to think about a different possibility—and not because we want to open the floor for discussion or better understanding, but to silence debate, stay in our comfort zones, and have the last word. The Bible becomes a clumsy battering club in our denominational disputes and culture wars, leaving little space for it to act as the precise, soul-piercing blade of the Spirit it claims to be.

And the more time I spend with the Bible, the less convinced I am that we are “accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15) when we use it in this way.

One of the things I love and hate about being a lifelong believer who grew up in church is that I “know” all the answers—the church answers, that is. This is helpful when it comes to constructing and corroborating doctrine, or avoiding blatant heresies, but it’s much less so when all those clean and pat church answers cloud my ability to recognize the complex and uncomfortable questions God is actually asking.

In other words—I’m well-trained in using the Bible as an end. But what about learning to let it be the beginning?

What happens when we let the Bible speak on its own terms, unfettered by our pre-determined bounds of doctrine? What happens when we let God tell us who He is, uncontained by our neat boxes of divine attributes? What would we learn about who He is, what He is doing, and how He wants us to reflect Him if we stopped trying to tell Him—and everyone else—who He is allowed to be and what He is allowed to ask of us?

Of course, I know there is a vitally important place for right doctrine. It matters that we relate to Yahweh rightly, and we know a lot about how to do that (and how not to do it) from the Scriptures. But an honest reading of the Bible won’t let us hold our “right answers” very tightly. It will challenge them and question them and throw them into turmoil at nearly every turn. It will demand of us to think and feel and undo and rebuild. It will constantly force our conversation-ending verse-wielding back into a place of humility and uncertainty, where there is room for an incomprehensible God and His creative work.

The Bible is an end: It has the authority to define God and tell us His story. It has the true answers we are looking for. But if that’s all it is—if the conversation has no beginning—then we will miss the messy riches of the middle, the parts where we have to wrestle with God and leave marked by the encounter to receive the blessing. We miss the questions it would ask of us. We miss the lifelong journey of discovery and delight it promises, because we were too mired down in making sure we “knew it all.”

I’m noticing that the more I learn, the less I know. As God increases in my perception, I decrease. Every new discovery or epiphany simply expands the universe of what I don’t understand. With every answer comes a thousand more questions.

This, I think, is as it should be.