Natalie Burris

Do complementarian wives really submit to their husbands?

Presidential candidate Michele Bachmann has been asked about her complementarianism.  How can she submit to her husband, while at the same time be a leader of a country?  This is nothing new.  Sarah Palin encountered these same concerns during her vice-presidential run in 2008.  At that time, David Gushee posed questions for complementarians in USA Today, one of which was, "Do you believe that Palin is under the authority of her husband as head of the family? If so, would this authority spill over into her role as vice president?"

One question recently presented to Bachmann was this:

[Y]ou described a moment in your life when your husband said you should study for a degree in tax law. You said you hated the idea. And then you explained, "But the Lord said, 'Be submissive. Wives, you are to be submissive to your husbands.'"  As president, would you be submissive to your husband?

Bachmann answered in part:

Marcus and I will be married for 33 years this September 10th. I'm in love with him. I'm so proud of him. And both he and I -- what submission means to us, if that's what your question is, it means respect. I respect my husband. He's a wonderful, godly man, and a great father. And he respects me as his wife.

Though I'm a feminist, I'm personally not bothered by the private decisions others make in the context of marriage, unless they entail physical or emotional abuse.  The part of complementarianism that bothers me more is the women-in-leadership issue.  However, I'm still intrigued that many women truly do not submit to their husbands.  Rather, they negotiate it, which exposes submission as an empty Master-Signifier as articulated by David Fitch and Slavoj Zizek.

Fitch, in The End of Evangelicalism, says that individuals believe insincerely in Master Signifiers and participate in rituals that cynically reinforce their ideology.  It seems like wives who negotiate submission to their husbands end up doing so insincerely and cynically, in an unintentional way. Also, submission is the conceptual object to which complementarians give their allegience, thus shaping themselves as a group.  

Bachmann's and Palin's political involvement could be considered an irruption of the Real, breaking in and exposing the emptiness of the Master Signifier of submission.  It reveals the contradiction of a woman president who must defer to her husband.  

Bachmann negotiates being both a female member of a conservative religion and possibly the leader of the free world by being sure to point out, "He respects me as his wife."  Many other complementarian wives negotiate submission as well.  Southern Baptist leader Russell Moore pointed out a few years ago that, in practice, many evangelicals are "unwittingly" living as feminists:

Evangelicals maintain headship in the sphere of ideas, but practical decisions are made in most evangelical homes through a process of negotiation, mutual submission, and consensus. That’s what our forefathers would have called feminism -- and our foremothers, too.

I verified this while writing a paper in college.  One study, by sociologists John P. Bartkowski and Jen'nan Ghazal Read, surveyed devout evangelical wives in central Texas.  Bartkowski and Read noted that women use the reportoire of their faith in strategic, creative, and subversive ways to meet practical demands of everyday life.  Therefore, women can keep up with "changing gender norms," such as working outside the home and running for president, while still holding to their faith.  

The language of submission enabled wives to draw boundaries between themselves and secular, feminist women.  However, each wife qualified her beliefs.  One complementarian stated outright that her husband doesn't have authority over her.  These women who embrace wifely submission frame it as their decision to let their husbands lead in the marriage.  And practically, the submission process involves negotiation, discussion, and compromise.  Like Bachmann, the wives in the study interpreted submission as "respect."

Another study, by sociologists Sally K. Gallagher and, one of my favorites, Christian Smith, concluded that, rather than holding to traditional hierarchicalism, evangelicals espouse symbolic traditionalism and pragmatic egalitarianism.  Symbolic male headship serves as an ideological tool evangelicals use to "maintain a sense of distinctiveness from the broader culture of which they are a part."  In the same way that Bartkowski and Read framed this creative re-working as "negotiation," Gallagher and Smith see evangelicals as "reconciling" modern economic life with their family life.  

The "trump card" that husbands enjoy in complementarian marriages is never played.  Each couple makes decisions jointly, and one husband, when discussing whether he would invoke his authority, said he "wouldn't even try," despite the fact that he self-identifies as a complementarian.  

If male headship in marriage is truly empty at its core and more of a symbolic boundary-marker, I would find that very encouraging.  Now, I hope that prohibiting women from having authority over men in all contexts will simply become an empty conceptual object.  Perhaps we are already seeing this?  John Piper stated it was acceptable for a man to "listen to" Beth Moore, as long as she doesn't become the man's pastor or shepherd.  Piper's response in the video contains qualifiers, just as respondents in the above studies had to qualify their beliefs in male headship.

I couldn't find complete versions of the studies online, but please email me if you are interested in a copy of one or both of the studies.  Amazingly, I still have my zip drive from college, which contains copies of the studies.  My packrat tendencies have paid off for once!

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The Supreme Court takes up the ministerial exception

Back in 2008, a Texas federal court found that Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary's (SWBTS) termination of Dr. Sheri L. Klouda could not be judicially reviewed.  The court found that SWBTS was a church and that Klouda was a minister as defined by the ministerial exception doctrine, so her termination was exempt from review under the First Amendment.  

Klouda was an accomplished Hebrew professor who taught both women and men, and she was hired on before Paige Patterson became president of the seminary.  Patterson believes Scripture teaches that no woman should have authority over a man, so he ousted Klouda from her position.  She had built up years of tenure and bought a home in the DFW area, but had to move to another state to seek employment. She now teaches undergraduates at Taylor (not that there's anything necessarily wrong with the good people at Taylor!).

Out of concern for preserving the First Amendment right to free exercise of religion without interference from the state, courts have articulated a couple of doctrines.  Under the ministerial exception doctrine, if a claim challenging a religious institution's employment decision involves an employee who serves a "ministerial function," the court cannot review the claim without first determining whether it is itself ecclesiastical in nature.  

Because of the First Amendment, courts are prohibited from injecting themselves into disputes over matters such as theological controversy or church discipline (this is a separate doctrine called the "ecclesiastial absention doctrine").

Although Klouda's lawsuit was a private action, meaning that no state actors were involved and thus constitutional considerations do not apply (i.e. the equal proctection clause and what type of scrutiny the court should use to examine gender discrimination), the ministerial exception is problematic.  In cases with government actors, as opposed to private parties, the Supreme Court has refused to make exceptions for other types of exercises of religious beliefs.  

The Court has rejected the right of Mormans to practice polygamy, and the right of a Native American group to smoke peyote.  There should be similar protections for gender.

Even with only private parties, I argue that when gender is involved, the ministerial exception and ecclesiastical abstention doctrines should not apply. Religious organizations should be subject to the same laws and legal requirements as everyone else.  Such a shield can allow for more sinister types of discrimination.  

Of course, I am not advocating that SWBTS be forced to reinstate Klouda (as that would violate the Constitution), but rather it should be held responsible for the damages it has caused her and her family.

The U.S. Supreme Court has previously never taken up the issue of the ministerial exception, but on October 5, it will hear oral argument on a case involving a teacher at private religious school who was allegedly fired for medical reasons.  

I hope that it narrows the ministerial exception doctrine so that the free exercise and establishment clauses are still taken into consideration, but at the same time, religious institutions are aware they will face consequences for simply disregarding the rights of their employees. 

An absurd part of this debate, which could never be brought up in court, is that Southern Baptists know full well that SWBTS is not a church and Klouda is not (and was prohibited from being) a minister.  To seek this type of shelter under the law is absurd and hypocritical.  

Given the conservative bent of the Supreme Court, and the propensity of many of its members to rule in favor of the most powerful, I'm not optimistic about the decision it will hand down.  In any event, these injustices are precisely why I chose to become an attorney...

Review of the End of Evangelicalism - Part 5: What next?

This is Part 5 of my review/discussion of David Fitch's The End of Evangelicalism.  Here are Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

If evangelicalism's pillars are empty at their core, should we throw it out?  Zizek's would answer yes.  But in Chapter 6 and the Epilogue, Fitch says no: evangelicalism is simply at a crossroads.  He proposes a Christian political existence in the world.  Over against Zizek's void, empty, materialist struggle, Christianity is an overflowing love of God's "gift" of reconciling the whole world to himself, and a politic of fullness in the triune God.  Rather than endure an empty, fallen politic, Christians can redeem it.  

This is a brilliant translation of the gospel into Zizekian terms: the void has already been overcome, because Christ has entered the material.  Now, the church, through participating in the Incarnation, is to be the core of God's politic in the world.

Evangelicals can re-ground empty Master-Signifiers politically in the work of God through Christ by the Spirit instead of on modernist-fundamentalist assumptions, as this resulted in a false politic that "de-missionalized" the church (p. 129).  No longer accomodating to these assumptions will move the church toward a more redemptive, Christ-centered politic.

The Inerrancy of Scripture

To solve this problem, Fitch turns to, among other theologians, the communal-focused Karl Barth: "God cannot be an object of our knowing (our possession).  Rather as we enter into a place where we become known by God, then, out of this relationship, we can know God." (p. 133).  That place is the corporate gathering of the church. Evangelicals' beliefs about Scripture are to be grounded in the corporate participation in Christ and in God's mission in the world.

Another solution is Kevin Vanhoozer's idea of Scripture as the Drama of God (I discussed this framework here, except I attributed it to N.T. Wright - perhaps I was mistaken?).  Via Barth, Vanhoozer, and other theologians, the church's take on Scripture is characterized by hospitality, humility, and vulnerability, rathet than a stagnated, individualized, arrogant, and thoroughly modernist view that has been exposed as contradictory and empty.

The Decision for Christ

To overcome this empty politic, Fitch looks to N.T. Wright's reframing of justification: salvation is not a transaction, but rather a relational event situated within a greater story.  However, Fitch acknowledges that "social justice" can become another empty Master-Signifier, like the duplicity we saw in earlier in the book, but this time the world is changed while the individual remains the same.  Fitch finds an answer Michael Gorman: Christians are to daily put to death idolatry and injustice through co-crucifixion and giving ourselves over to resurrection.  

With both Wright and Gorman, the personal and corporate are combined.  Fitch also turns to John Milbank to get rid of the idea as salvation as a one-time gift that is accepted in the Decision.  Instead, it is a never-ending gift, which is active and causes Christians to return this gift to God and to others.

The Christian Nation

Henri de Lubac, William Cavanaugh, Nathan Kerr, and John Howard Yoder can resolve the emptiness of the Christian Nation.  De Lubac asks whether the church has become individuals bound together by spectating, which renders it a body invisible in the world.  Under this rubric, the church is simply a collection of individuals who meet and then go out as a voluntary force to work for the ideal of a Christian Nation.  Cavanaugh sees the church as a subversive political presence that forgives and loves in the face of unjust powers.  (Perhaps doing something more creative and imaginative than using the existing political process?)

Kerr, in a very interesting way, advocates "for a church that is dispossessed--without place or center--always diasporic, scattered into the world" (p. 159).  The church isn't prior to mission, but the site of mission makes the church come into being.  Yoder balances out Kerr's boundless, territoriless church by casting it as distinctive, through its non-violence, identification with "the other," and servanthood, all of which are Incarnational.  So a church gathering is not a slick presentation to provide information for personal self-improvement, which then motivates individuals to lobby for prayer in schools and anti-abortion/anti-gay laws.  Instead, it is "present as Christ in the neighborhoods," and "present among the hungry and hurting," "decentralized [...] away from one central place to being present in the everyday lives of people" (p. 168).  Perhaps a base camp? 

 

For any proposed solution to the emptiness of the three tenets of evangelicalism, the test should always be: will this belief and practice shape the character of our political existence in such a way that it is capable of entering God's work in the world, his mission?  Fitch interacts with leaders/prominent thinkers in three movements that have attempted to fill the void, which shows we all must be on guard to avoid the same pitfalls that evangelicals encountered as a result of capitulating to modernism.

The only criticisms I have are that there seem to be an unusual amount of spelling and grammar errors.  Also, I wish that Fitch would not have interacted with and discussed solely white male thinkers.  A discussion of the end of evangelicalism--and possible next steps--that lacks any reference to non-majority thinkers reveals quite the blind spot.  Perhaps evangelicalism's focus on the modernist-fundamentalist era could be remedied by allowing true diversity (Soong Chan Rah would be a great start...).  Moving away from white male hegemony could bring a lot to the table, perhaps a solution has not occurred to a homogeneous group.

That said, I highly recommend the book. Overall, I appreciated Fitch's detailed explanation of the failures of evangelicalism's main beliefs, and what we can do to move forward.  His using Zizek to critique this tradition has been very useful, as I keep applying it to other elements of evangelicalism.  

When God is silent: others...and the ordinary...

I discovered Charissa's blog, Light Bulbs and Baby Steps, a couple of months ago, and have appreciated her honesty.  The questions she asked in her a recent post are exactly what I have felt the past few years:

I struggle greatly with my ability to have faith when it comes to knowing God. The truth is, it has been a long time, maybe years since I have clearly felt or heard the voice of God in an irrefutable way. Radio silence. And yet I cannot seem to abandon Him, or is it He won't abandon me? Either way, I find myself in a holding pattern. A frustratingly long holding pattern. I haven't known how to proceed. How do I keep praying without doing it out of mere obligation and guilt? How do I read the Bible without disintegrating into a quivering heap of questions in the corner of my room?

Frankly, I have a hard time telling the difference between that still small voice and the crazy-person talk in my head.  And I often find myself agreeing with agnostics and atheists when it comes to "proof" issues, especially when I think about other religions.  Everyone thinks they've heard from God, and that their holy book is the truest version of the truth.  Sometimes I get confused in the cacophony of both my own internal voices and the external debates on epistemiology.  So I get frustrated with the holding pattern I'm in when I don't clearly hear God.

But lately I've realized I may have been going about it the wrong way.  I've been waiting to hear from God and have placed certain expectations on what hearing from Her would sound or look like.  Perhaps this is going to sound heretical and humanist, but I "hear" from God quite often via my fellow human beings.

I may not feel God's presence when I sit with by Bible open, looking for answers, but I sure feel His presence when my husband extends me an incredible amount of grace.  I may not literally hear a response from God when I ask Him questions, but if I would just look around, I might get an answer.

I came across this quote from Stanley Hauerwas, which explains more clearly how others help me stay on this crazy God-following path: 

The worship of God does not come naturally to me, as it seems to for some. I live most of my life as if God does not exist. Yet I know I would not have survived without the prayers of friends who have learned to pray the prayers of the church. My life depends on learning to worship God with those who have made it possible for me to go on. Through worship, the world learns the truth that is required for our being truthful about ourselves and one another.

And this, from an amazing, must-read post by Sarcastic Lutheran, points out the ordinariness of the kingdom of God:

the kingdom of heaven is not to be found alone in a monestary, it’s not to be found in the demands and rewards of human religion, it’s found in the ordinary, the daily, the right in front of your face and never realized it.  And when you see it something is made new. Perhaps a part of the world perhaps a part of yourself.  But something is made new when the empty promises of the world according to us gives way to the whimsy, and the true and the eternal in the world according to God.  And it’s always a surprise.  Tilt your head and look sideways at your life and might see it in the small or the unexpected or the impure.

Tilt your head and look sideways and catch a glimpse- for the Prince of Peace has begun his reign. The signs are all around.  They are signs of a battle already won.  Signs of a world loved so deeply by God that God refuses to leave it alone.  So take another look. See if you can spot it.

Keeping perspective on 9/11

On the way home from work today, I caught a segment on NPR about 9/11.  Nine people recalled what they did the day before.  You can listen here.

Some of the people interviewed lost loved ones in the attacks, and one even happened to sit next to the pilot of United Flight 93 as he was catching a flight to New Jersey to go to work.  The pilot had promised his 15-year-old son they would start spending more time together, because he had recently had a busy work schedule.

I was a self-centered high-school senior 10 years ago, and the most prominent feeling I can remember is fear, rather than grief.  The events of 9/11 have been so symbolized and exploited for political and religious gain that I never actually took the time to reflect on the individuals and their grieving families.

My perspective has probably also changed because, 5 years after 9/11, I too experienced the horror of losing a loved one unexpectedly.  I cannot fathom the pain of the families of 9/11 victims.  Not only did they undergo a personal nightmare, but the events surrounding the death of their loved ones are splashed all over the newspaper headlines, the web, and the television.  These events are manipulated and used by politicians nearly every day.  To have such an in-your-face, ever-present national event accompany your personal grief is unthinkable.

So this weekend, I wish peace for the families and friends of those we lost on 9/11.  To honor and respect them, I am choosing to unplug from the internet and change the channel if yet another report or memorial is broadcast.  My heart goes out to those affected, and may you be able to remember your loved ones without the constant cacophony of those who wish to profit--politically, monetarily, or religiously--from your pain.

Guest post on UnDocumented.tv

What does the usually conservative push for "family values" have to do with immigration?

Would a more compassionate immigration policy support families and family values?

How is the current immigration debate relevant to marriage, children, abortion, and morality?

Check out my guest post over at UnDocumented.tv to find out why!