GOD wants to take our history and
build a great future out of it.
GOD wastes nothing, especially our
pain and failures, if we offer it
back to Him.
PETE SCAZZERO
The Bad System
I want you to know that I write this from a place of peace. It has taken me a while to get here, to not run and busy myself with other things, but to lean into the harm that was caused by a decade in an Acts 29 church. If you’ve listened to The Rise and Fall of Mars HIll, you’ll understand the complexities of this environment. If you haven’t (I had to stop), I will say it can be a place where Toxic Masculinity thrives, Hierarchy is King, the marginalized are further marginalized and scandal is consistently present (though you may not know it). And still, even in this bad system, I saw God & He met me; He provided for me and others. Sometimes, when you are sinned against for that long, you tend to think that EVERYTHING during that time was a lie. That’s not true; there were things that came alive in the midst of scorched land. But, in order to move forward, I have to bear witness to the harm first, before moving to healing.
And so this is that.
I have always grown up in a very complementarian and authoritarian environment, so nothing seemed off in this new church that we helped start. There would be no women in leadership unless they wanted to work with children or be assistants to the leaders and women were revered if they were stay-at-home moms and not working outside the home (this wasn’t stated outright, but it was what was desirable). Men were at the top, women were under them (and really any man in leadership) and there was a heavy emphasis on marriage and family and again, lots of constant emphasis on hierarchy. Elders over Pastors (though most of the pastors all seemed to be elders, paid staff), Pastors over the people, husbands over their wives and children. Women over their children as well, but just not as much as the father (even though he was likely gone 80% of the time). I didn’t mind this at all, at first. The promise was benevolence and care for those on the bottom of the kingdom and I believed it. After all, these were pastors and our friends.
There were no tracks for women in leadership, No women’s ministry at all. Everything must be organic (except the men's programs that were very planned and intentional). Women could have a bible study but only if they planned it on their own in their homes, while their small children crawled all over them. When we asked if we could have a formal bible study at the (gigantic with plenty of space) church, we were told to go have playdates and talk about God there. We were told that the men would get mentorship and that it would “trickle down” to us (nevermind single women and mothers/widows). It is weird to type these things out and see how oppressive this environment was, but at the time, we were told it was Holy. We were constantly indoctrinated with Piper and Gruedem and our bibles were only ESV, “the real translation” which, come to find out, was made by strict complimentarians as a response to “pervasive feminism” that was infiltrating the church. So when it came to women, it was there in our bibles, black and white: Women are the weaker sex and were footnotes. They needed to be constantly put in their place – and they were.
We were told if we really loved God, we would move from the suburbs to the city, and many uprooted their lives to infiltrate the urban landscape (they later denounced this and planted a church in the suburbs, which we would also go help with). Entire sermons were spent on equal but separate roles, how women were silly and being misled by social media (they literally listed names from the pulpit of what women to avoid), social media influencers (hello, me) women were berated from the stage for their long winded posts and taking people from the local church , and also how men are failing to lead their families well and needed to “man-up.” These were all spoken of with great urgency, passion, and emotion. People in the congregation were regularly called out from the pulpit by the head pastor if they had bad behavior— and hurts, addictions, and private conversations were used as examples regularly (ask me how I know) from the stage. Of course their names weren’t explicitly said, but everyone just sort of knew who they were talking about and they shunned from the inner circles, which revolved around the dynamic, celebrity-like, head pastor. I would receive emails and phone calls from congregants and a pastor about (health) things I shared on Instagram and where they came from (“No, I don’t know that person's religious affiliation but I’m not sure it matters”). I was being watched and managed constantly – people went to see who I followed and if they were holy or unholy, etc and then would alert the staff.
We (women) would contend, for years and years, to have some kind of ministry for women. And finally, after our persistence, when the voices got loud, they would apologize for treating us poorly and create a “women’s table” which was hand selected. Here, we could air our grievances safely and be mentored and find a way forward for women.
They finally allowed us to have an event (this was like 7 years in, if you can imagine the waiting). We would have to pay for it with ticket sales and there would be no budget allotted for it, no childcare, and very little help from the men for set-up. All this while men have entire leadership courses, meetings, leadership tracks, lunches, retreats, budget lines devoted to them. Eventually we did get to be a line item in the budget but it was meager. The events were good, and a lot of work, but finally, we were getting a little food.
“The Table” of 15ish women would try to form something consistent for women, under the meticulous eye of male overseers. We couldn’t even have a panel of questions and answers at the women’s event unless it was screened first by a male pastor (we had to literally rehearse the panel, whichwas critiqued so we could “do better”). The Table was a disaster. Mostly because it was feigned repentance, and the pastors and elders would talk about us behind our back in disdain. And because we were a bother and our ministry didn’t truly matter to the overall cause of impacting the city “for the glory of God.”
Looking back, it wasn’t because no one at the table was highly gifted, incredibly intelligent, or unwilling to invest their hearts and soul in making a track where women could thrive in discipleship (these women were starting charter schools, writing grants for community playgrounds, successful business women, invested mothers and wives, making huge impacts on their neighborhoods, etc). This table was a disaster because there was no place in it for males to be the star, there was no celebritism, no power structure, and the women and their emotions and ministry desires were not wanted. We were told a bunch of promises and expected it, but they couldn’t follow through and didn’t want the accountability either. Eventually they hired someone on paid staff to be over women’s ministry and congratulated themselves for being so generous to the women.
But it must be said: we were simply disregarded on the basis of our sex and not seen as valuable co-laborers. We were the weaker sex after all, and we were just there to affirm their leadership – not to not to grow in our own. Our tears and anger for the neglect we voiced at The Table meetings would be wielded against us with follow up meetings about unforgiveness. I was basically blacklisted, as was my husband (what a bad leader!) because, in protest, he said he wouldn’t lead another “men’s leadership lab” table unless the women had a leadership lab themselves. There would eventually be a woman’s cohort (a mentorship track) that I was, ironically, never asked to be a part of anyway. But by then I was knee deep using my gifts elsewhere and didn’t care to beg for my worth there. I was seen as a bit of a wild woman because I just couldn’t seem to fit in the ecosystem they had created.
Oddly, we still tithed monthly and showed up to church even though it was a really unhealthy environment. I just thought this is what family does; you get irritated with each other but at the end of the day, you still love each other. Plus, they were there for me when my marriage fell apart and I felt really loyal to them for being good to me at my lowest.
Walking Away
When Covid hit, we tried to do online church but it was painful. There was no actual pastoring during that time, either. The flock, in general, became dispersed and lost. But with no public gatherings, no meetings, no busyness of constantly taking staff, elders (themselves) to breakfast and lunch (literally and figuratively constantly feeding themselves), what on earth would they do? They said small group leaders should be shepherding their own flocks, though how could they with no shepherding themselves?
And that’s when we (and many others) realized they weren’t really a pastor model, but more of a King and peasants model. The kings and his court get fattened and the peasants starve but are required to remain loyal. We received no phone calls, no reaching out, no check-ins, no training. Just an online service you could tune into where 3-4 pastors rotated speaking for one hour, once a week. So, as a last straw, we decided we just couldn’t do it anymore. We wrote a nice note thanking them for helping us early on in marriage but were firm in stating the reason we left was the consistent disregard for women. They would reply back, a few nice, most just excruciatingly brief, some silent. Then later, meetings would be called (never with me, only male to male reasoning!) and my husband would be questioned if he was reading any leadership books— as if to let him know he had an unruly wife who questions authority and leads him astray. This was from one of our very dear friends (not the head pastor), and felt like a gut punch. We would go back and forth with him in confusion, letting him know the wounds he was further causing, and he would spin circles with paragraphs, never ever apologizing for the real wound. That friendship slowly withered away.
The pattern of this system does the same thing over and over: take a good man, feed and fatten him with power and spit him out, unrecognizable to his friends—a carbon copy of toxic masculinity. If those at the top couldn’t or wouldn’t endure, they would be “let go” or simply leave. And the ones that left were the gentle ones, the shepherding ones. Until all that was left were the harsh kings who lord their power over the people.
That church would basically implode on itself after being embroiled in scandal (though there is still a remnant), dabbling in some real estate shadiness (and gaining a terrible reputation in the city) and the head pastor put on (paid) disciplinary leave after an outside group found there to be harmful behaviors and disregard for his flock. He was paid to go figure out how to be repentant. Ironically, he never figured it out on his trips to a nearby state to preach for another church and his paid-for therapist (who was also so embroiled in scandal for being connected to helping those in power remain in power and was later disqualified). Our head Pastor finally left the flock in a bizarre letter where he blamed the elders for not providing him enough instructions for his time away and a brief, robotic goodbye, that I’m sure was edited thoroughly by his attorney. He has now left the state and is at a new preaching position, as if hundreds and hundreds of us are not left on a battlefield with missing limbs, the stench of death all around, and wounds so deep, it will take years of surgeries and salves to heal from. And I am just ONE story of neglect, spiritual manipulation, overt sex discrimination, and abusive systems left unchecked.
If this sounds harsh, please know that I am being more charitable than I need to be. I only say this so that if you recognize this to be a system you’re in, you can find your way out by God’s mercy. And I say it, again, too bear witness to the harm that was caused to me and my family and many, many dear friends (still digging their way out of the mess). I will not be silenced.
It would take me two years to process how undignifying and inhumane the Acts 29 model made me feel as a woman. During the decade I attended, I would quietly deal with such self-hatred, such dehumanizing behaviors regarding my gender, such forced submission to a leadership that did not care for my body or my soul and called said behavior Holy and scriptural. Staying in that kind of environment does a real number on a female. As I processed where I got such deep all-consuming shame, which manifested as actual physical body shame, I dug around a bit and discovered I got that shame not from my parents, not from entertainment, but from inside the evangelical “complementarian” modeled church. First through purity culture while I was in middle and high school, then through religious programs in college (further indoctrinating purity culture), and then when I got married through books like “Love and Respect.” This would ultimately come to a head in the Acts 29 church, which solidified the less than-ness I felt as a women, quietly, consistently, and firmly.
These systems taught me that my body was dangerous, something to be managed, something to be afraid of. You weren’t to explore it, or cherish it— you were to fear, abhor, and subdue it at all costs. I was always so careful to manage myself (down to my personality) to make sure I was modest and not being a stumbling block to the wild beasts of the world called men. Men were uncontrollable, and women then, must be controlled at all costs. I felt so much shame over being a woman, but was told to delight in my “role.” Of course, no one else delighted in females in this model unless in the bedroom, having children, or showing other women how to properly submit to male leadership. I just kept finding myself accidentally misbehaving by using my gifts in this ecosystem by being myself and then felt more shame for that. There’s a lot to say about this, but I’ll keep it brief. I did pinpoint this as a direct correlation to my body shame and the Church and worked through it, painfully and with so much pushback from strangers who wanted to keep me from going astray when I named my shame and where it came from.
Once I began healing from purity culture, I thought the self hatred would go away. It didn’t, even though I knew what God said about me. I really wanted to believe it – I just couldn't shake trash-talking myself constantly. Body dysmorphia, in a sense; I didn’t see what others saw when I looked in the mirror. It was unbearable and I voiced it to my husband and friends, and they would speak truth to me, but I just couldn’t make myself believe it. I even recently cried to a pastor after his sermon about how God sees us. “Pray for me,” I whispered. “I don’t believe that.” I was honest, I was doing the work, and I just felt stuck. I couldn’t even crack open my Bible; I could only watch this Jesus figure, over and over on the Chosen TV series and marvel at how good He was to women. How He uplifted and empowered women, how they were always with him doing the work alongside Him, how they weren’t a bother, their voices were desired. I would cry and wonder why I had never seen this inside the church walls. It was a very dark and painful year.
The Turn Around
Then, a miracle of coincidental miracles (I know there are no coincidences), I had an assignment to research Mary for a podcast and I was surprised by what I found: Jesus kept his mother near him constantly. Jesus included his mother in his ministry and Jesus cared for his mother physically, even to his death, to make sure she would be taken care of. I couldn’t stop finding Jesus and women in the bible. Someone recommended Kristi Mclelland and her teachings, and I wept through them all as she spoke of women flocking to Jesus because he brought them from the shameful to the honorable. I had a speaking event at a retreat right in the middle of this and I brought my wounded soul to the tiny pulpit in front of 20 women and wept my way through a teaching on Mary Magdalene, Mary Mother of Jesus, and Mary (Martha and Lazurus’ sister). Jesus honored, included, and co-labored with women all over the place, but everyone in my old church had all but erased them, diminished their voices and influence. These women were EVERYWHERE!
I was coming back alive, slowly waking up. Oh my word, I am not dead. That did not kill me.
At the same time I was asked to be on an elder advisory board and the question I had was, “what is an elder and can women be one?” Which is also to ask the question, can women preach and teach, and be included at every table?
I would have to go find that out for myself and I was afraid of what I might find after being so deeply entrenched in a very complementarian evangelical model — it was my identity. So I researched (and still do) for 8 hours a day over the course of months and months. I bought a Greek Bible, I learned Hebrew culture, I read several books, from many academic courses in Seminary. I am doing the DIY divinity school for the hard knocks (LOL). It wasn’t on purpose, I just couldn’t stop myself. I was ravenously eating after being starved for so long. For so long, I had been staring through the window, starved watching men fatten themselves at banquets, their wine cups overflowing. Now, I moved from the window, to the door, and cracked it open. It was like all the men turned around and the room got silent. These men, some good men too, but slowly becoming fat with power and pride. “Can I sit there?”
It’s hard to explain what happened after that, except that it’s like scales fell off my eyes and I was completely transformed. I wouldn’t have recognized myself or my brain if you showed me her ten, or even 3 years ago. To see Phoebe, Priscilla, Junia, all the Mary’s treasured and included in the Gospels, was changing me. I felt like God was meeting me tenderly, lovingly, with joy. He didn’t hate my sex, he made it to reflect half of himself. Helper is called Ezer. Ezer is a name for God, when He is helping the Israelites who couldn’t help themselves and is a warrior on their behalf! Please read that again. Ezer is only ever used for Eve and God.
But this is the real miracle: from that point on, I stopped hating myself because I stopped believing the lie that I am loathed, giftless, unvalued, less than inside the church. No, I am Jesus' treasured and desired bride. In fact, men are his bride too, but that’s a tough one to swallow because that would mean there is no power structure between man and woman. There is no slave or free, Greek or Jew, man or woman. We are all now one in Christ. Pretty mind blowing stuff, and I had never heard that preached.
More mind blowing, after I believed what God said about me instead of what the Evangelical (heavy complimentarian) Church has called me, the self-hatred was almost completely gone (still have some work to do around body image). But I don’t trash talk myself in the mirror, I don’t think about my body constantly like I used to, I don’t wonder why I am the way I am. I cannot even explain how heavy this burden was to carry for so long. God said no more, and I was free. But it took deeply examining how we have harmed women and in doing so, how we have harmed the bride of Christ. (Each one of these sentences deserves 56 exclamation points!!!)
Listen, here’s a strong word: We have raped and pillaged the church, and so, you will find in the news all over, scandal inside the Bride of Christ. Where you find scandal, you will find oppression, hierarchy, and power structures that God abhors. He will not be mocked. There is a shakedown happening, and I am thankful for it. God is saying “no more” there too.
Got a little fiery there. But scandal after scandal – the bad systems inside churches everywhere are telling on themselves. You likely won’t see women with accusations against them (though that happens too, but pales in comparison). No, you’ll see unchecked men with lots of power. When you have power structures devoid of women, who do you think the sins are against? They are against women and children and the marginalized. Who is doing the bulk of the abuse? Statistically, it is men, often good men at the start, who are overcome by power and slowly but surely give into abuse that heavy power calls for. This happens in male-heavy organizations inside and outside of the church, and my question is: Why does the church look the same as the power hungry, empirical, hierarchy, celebrity obsessed outside anyway? I love men, I love my husband and my sons and my pastor and my neighbors; I am not a man-hater. I am an oppressive systems hater; I am a power-hungry-culture hater.
One of the major inconsistencies that kept me in the system for so long was my marriage, which functions extremely egalitarian. Does one person make the decisions or do we both get there together? There’s never a tie breaker--I can’t imagine my husband listening to my concerns and saying, “Welp! Still gonna do it.” He doesn’t demand submission from me; we mutually submit our needs to one another. We ask for input from each other and receive it. We repent to one another. We raise our kids together. Sometimes he is the breadwinner, and sometimes I am. I took a passenger seat for his career early on and he took a passenger seat when mine took off. And we will go back and forth like this probably forever. We lead in different ways in our family, but we’re gifted differently--not based on our sex. Based on our giftings and the season we’re in. Our marriage is joyful and thriving, with no hierarchy. Then suddenly, we would walk into church and I had to shrink into “roles” and I suppressed the gifts God gave me, but not my husband. He could do it all. Though I had unique particular giftings, I had ovaries so I had to sit in the back and be quiet. What would the church look like if we stopped this sanctioned oppression? Discrimination based on sex is illegal everywhere, but not in religious systems? Why are there laws against discrimination and why are there no laws against love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and self control? Galatians 5:22 . Against such things, there are no laws!
I realize by saying this, I am offending many who are still in these systems and perhaps find God there. Again, I did too. In some ways, I began to see God in ways I hadn’t before. In some ways, we built some of our deepest friendships that I still have today. In some ways, I can see how eager we were to love God and how he grew our faith. I loved Jesus then, and I love him now, even more so. I am not in a crisis of faith and my soul is “not in danger” because I sloughed off an abusive system . But I have heard this language before and it goes something like this when you talk with abused people. “It wasn’t all that bad.” “If I stay long enough, I can change him.” “He is really sorry this time.” “He really loves me, he’s just going through a hard time.”
No more.
My Audacious Hope
I am growing and changing and yes, sounding the alarm because the building is on fire and I would like to see no more wounded people on the lawn gasping for air, burned badly, some never making it out alive. If you want the church to thrive, put women everywhere there are men. If you want women to be helpers, BY GOD, let them help shine light and give voice to the many blindspots man-heavy systems have, including and not limited to preaching, teaching, discipling, overseeing, direction, serving, co-laboring with our brothers. We are siblings in a family, not Kings with their peasants. We are a family, not an empire (Paul says this over and over again). We are all the bride of Christ, we are all one body, how can you separate the body from the head? How can you have the head at a table and the body in the other room? What you do to the heart, you do to the head.
In letting everyone co-labor together without hierarchy and power, I believe we will find healing, unity and revival. It is an audacious hope. And I keep it close.
Here’s the good news: I was harmed in a church and I am also at a church now where I am finding healing. I critique the church because I love her and I want her to thrive. I am surprised I can even walk in those doors, but it is a mercy that I can. It is mercy that has me at tables, creating new systems that share power, and co-labor with brothers and sisters without suspicion for one another. In fact, this is all I have ever wanted inside those walls: to help. Let me pick up my shovel and work next to you, brother. I am not a yard decoration; I am a dedicated farmer, sowing seeds, with dirt in my nails, aggressive B.O. somewhere in the middle of Kansas in a small church--hoping for an abundant harvest just like you are.
Thank you so much for this.
Thank you for this. First of all, I am so sorry for the pain and trauma you have been through. I have been de-constructing for the last few years - not from Jesus but from the systems in the church that do harm and it has been...rough. You put into words what I couldn’t express but have felt for years. Bless you for sharing your pain and your healing and hope with us. p.s. I am thankful the church didn’t squelch your gifts and personality. I always love seeing your insta posts. Everything thing from a Target try-on to a Word we need to hear. Keep it up!