How Evangelicalism is Failing Women

The recent departure of several high-profile women from conservative evangelicalism ought to be a wakeup call--but will it be heard?

Exit by InertiaCreeps

Today’s post is based on four claims about evangelicals and gender: (1) evangelicals (and other faith groups) are entitled to pursue illiberal gender norms as they see fit; (2) theologically conservative evangelicals with illiberal gender norms are particularly bad about honoring and respecting women who desire to operate within those norms; (3) as a result, even many women who would otherwise be on board with conservative evangelicalism find themselves pushed to its margins or cast out entirely; and (4) the end result is a less healthy and less self-aware expression of conservative evangelicalism with a growing gender imbalance.

I won’t be able to fully substantiate these claims in this short post—I welcome you to weigh in with your own thoughts in the comments—but I think they tie together some important trends in conservative evangelicalism.

In the World

Earlier this week, scholar and author Karen Swallow Prior announced that she would not be returning to Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in the Fall:

Karen Swallow Prior (Notorious KSP) @KSPrior

An update: While I adore my students and colleagues at SEBTS, it has become clearer through heartfelt discussions with leadership and much self-reflection over the past few years that the institution and I do not share the same vision for carrying out the Great Commission. 1/3

Prior’s announcement follows on the heels of Beth Moore’s public split from the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), recently chronicled in her memoir, All My Knotted-up Life. Earlier this month, Moore told NPR that even though she was someone “who tried her hardest to play by the rules,” an overwhelming misogyny made clear to her that “women were just expendable.”

Both Prior and Moore are notable for having risen to prominence within “complementarian” Southern Baptist circles that maintain rigid gender-based distinctions. They attempted for many years to work within those distinctions. But they encountered too much resistance from men whose cultural commitments and gender biases trumped theological principles.

In the midst of these departures, the Southern Baptist Convention continues to grapple with a report released last year detailing systemic mishandling of sexual abuse allegations, ignoring victims, and resisting calls for reform. As Kate Shellnutt suggested in a May 2022 New Yorker dialogue, male leaders within the SBC too often dismissed allegations by women “who were preyed upon by their pastors or entered sexual relationships with their pastors.”

The SBC’s mounting challenges related to sexual abuse are yet another example of its failure to heed the voices of women. As Moore said in her NPR interview, the sexual abuse scandal was exacerbated by “a very powerful contingent of people not dealing with the actual problem” but instead focusing on critiquing women like her.

In My Head

Before addressing the internal culture that led to Prior’s and Moore’s departures, I first want to defend the SBC’s right to perpetuate illiberal gender norms. My claim is based on my work on the right of assembly. As I explained in an earlier post, the freedom of assembly protects the right of Americans to form and cultivate groups of their choosing, according to their own terms. This includes gender-exclusive groups and groups that impose illiberal gender norms within their hierarchies. It is both proper and important that a pluralistic society recognize the right of Catholics to pursue an all-male priesthood, Orthodox Jews to practice gender-segregated prayers, and conservative evangelicals to limit ordination to men.

There are limits to this autonomy, such as when religious practices deny women meaningful exit rights from their communities. But these limits are properly applied at the margins—not the core—of protections for gender discriminatory groups. That means a pluralistic society will include groups—religious and otherwise—that do not comport with liberal egalitarian gender norms.

Of course, one danger of allowing illiberal gender norms is that some groups will practice them more consistently than others. In my experience, conservative evangelicals are particularly bad about taking thoughtless and unnecessarily restrictive approaches to gender even within their own established norms. For example, a conservative evangelical denomination that limits preaching to men will too often deny women other leadership opportunities that are within its theological limits, such as board membership, senior staff positions, and teaching roles. The collective result is a kind of tone-deafness to basic norms of decency and equitable treatment of women. And women—including Beth Moore and Karen Swallow Prior—are voting with their feet.

One result of this posture is that certain segments of conservative evangelicalism are becoming more homogenous. The most strident voices from the Christian right become louder and angrier, while a growing number of evangelical women struggle to find a home outside of the one they once knew.

Conservative evangelical institutions that desire both to maintain illiberal gender norms and be hospitable to and respectful of women might begin with this question: Given our theological non-negotiables (whatever they may be), how can we ensure that we otherwise maximize the ability of women to lead, shape, and engage with our culture, norms, and values? Answering this question and others like it in words and actions could be a first step toward confronting blind spots and unhealthy practices. It might also start to reveal which norms and practices in an institutional context are more cultural than theological.

In the World

Kristin Kobes Du Mez’s 2020 book, Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation, has been widely discussed for the past few years. I have mixed views about the book, but I think it’s thought-provoking and worth reading, discussing, and debating.

Du Mez recounts a history of evangelicalism that raises pointed questions about the influence of patriotism and masculinity (particularly a kind of “toxic masculinity”) on the movement. She presses which developments owe more to cultural upbringing than biblical principles. With respect to gender in particular, her historical account surfaces important stories that link directly or indirectly to some of the current tensions within evangelicalism.

Unfortunately, the reaction to Jesus and John Wayne in some corners has been more dismissive and defensive than inquisitive and introspective. One need not agree with all of Du Mez’s descriptions or conclusions to recognize that she is asking important questions—especially about gender—that have not yet been sufficiently answered by conservative evangelicals.