Emerging Women

In light of the recent discussion here regarding different expressions of Christianity around the world, I want to point out a recent Synchroblog put together by Matt Stone on Christianity in Australia. In honor of Australia Day, he invited bloggers from around Australia to comment on “What does it mean to be a Christian who’s Australian? What does it mean to be an Australian who’s a Christian?” He has provided his own thoughts and provides links to the other participating bloggers. It is well worth the read so I advise you to head over there to check it out.

Oh my God.
I have just seen the most REAL and BEAUTIFUL telling of the birth of Christ.
Wow.
I’ve grown up hearing the Christmas story.
And that can be a drawback, because when I hear “and this shall be a sign to you, you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger” I don’t visualize an actual Middle-Eastern manger, I visualize a 4th grade girl wearing a white sheet and a silver tinsel halo.
Nothing wrong with sweet 4th grade girls, but that image misses the beautiful reality of what really happened the night of Jesus’ birth. This movie brings it all back and makes it real.
Rent this movie this Christmas!
For me, The Nativity Story was a great way to gently push aside the evangelical traditional pageanty renditions of the story and see it again for the first time.-SW

Bob Carlton has an excellent post up titled What If Male Faith Leaders Stopped Bullying & Started Preaching The End Of Domestic Violence This Month ?. Because October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month he calls for pastors and youth pastors (mostly males) to take a stand for good. He writes,

What I am saying is that:

perpetuating a mindset where women are treated like property

where masculinity is equated with power and dominion

where jocularity and “radical” trappings are used to mask privilege and oppression

all of these things are the breeding grounds for the manner in which religion is far too often a co-conspirator in the domestic violence that is rampant in our world.
…
Rather than use our power to bully or sit silently or perpetuate violence, how Jesus-like would it be if men of faith worked to end violence and include women to their rightful place as ‘full humans, emotional and rational, leading and being led, protecting and protected, gifted and limited”.

Thank you Bob for this. I encourage everyone to go read the whole post.

So I know there has been a lot put out recently deriding millionaire pastors, but I found this recent study put out by Christianity Today on what us average folks make more relevant. You can read a summary of the study at the Out of Ur blog. But I especially thought this part regarding what female pastors make was interesting –

Female solo pastors earn more than male solo pastors.
Okay, so there aren’t many female solo pastors; in American churches responding to our survey, only six percent of solo pastors are women. Still, it’s intriguing that female solo pastors reported 10.4 percent higher total compensation. Their average salary was 8.6 percent higher than men’s ($49,219 compared to $45,259); and better housing and retirement benefits made up the rest. Why the difference? Why do female solo pastors earn, for total compensation (includes health insurance, retirement, and continuing education), $62,472, when their male counterparts earn $56,558?

My first hypothesis went like this: “Since there are precious few women hired as senior pastors—only 2.5 percent, in our research—women stay in solo pastorates longer, and their longevity leads to higher pay.” But that hypothesis doesn’t hold up: for solo pastors, the number of years served makes next to no difference in pay.

The more-likely explanation is regional. We know that solo pastors receive the highest pay in the New England and Pacific states (not surprisingly, given the higher cost of living in these regions). And these regions probably have the greatest cultural acceptance of women serving as solo pastors. Thus, women solo pastors tend to find work in regions with a high cost of living, and consequently, get a higher salary.

And before we assume that the church runs counter to the still-prevalent cultural practice of paying women less than men for comparable work, women were paid less than men in every other church position surveyed (except for secretary). On average, females earned approximately 80 percent of the compensation of males. Or, in other words, males earned about 30 percent more than females.

I think their explanation (female pastors are more accepted on the coasts which also have a higher cost of living) makes sense. I also wonder if the women who are solo pastors serve in mainline denominations that have established programs for things like health insurance, retirement, as well as sufficient funds to pay pastors a living wage as opposed to the (mostly) men who serve in smaller more conservative churches that have no resources and pay poorly. What are your thoughts or reactions to studies like these?

The recent discussion (here and elsewhere) on the whole Mother Teresa and doubt topic got me thinking about how we handle faith under attack. Many people are attacking Mother Teresa and Christians in general right now. But as seen even here, this issue is one that has caused pain and questioning for many Christians. They are confused by such a revered person admitting to doubt and are coming face to face with their own doubts. Such issues are hard enough on their own, but are made much more difficult by the presence of criticism. When one feels the need to assume a defensive position, it become much harder to honestly work through one’s own feelings, questions, and doubts. Take the metaphor of a city under siege in defense mode – the resources and energies of the city are spent in preserving what is already there (safety, food, water) and not in creating art or debating philosophy (no matter how much value they may hold). It is hard to grow and develop when one is attempting to defend all that one holds dear.

I am reminded of my faith journey in high school as compared to college. I grew up in a rather conservative evangelical church. Those who thought differently than my church (Catholics, Baptists, Lutherans…) were not considered real Christians and the ideas of non-believers were to be avoided (or ridiculed). But I attended public schools where I had to defend my “faith” (or what I thought was my faith) on a constant basis. That involved standing up for creationism and absolute truth and standing against abortion and homosexuality – the essential core doctrines of my faith at the time. But given that I always found myself in the position of defending those beliefs, I never had the chance to examine or question why I believed them. Then I went away to a Christian college where a lot of those basic beliefs were assumed. I felt the freedom to question and explore different expressions of Christianity within the safety of that context. I ended up abandoning some of my earlier assumptions and coming to a deeper commitment of faith in the process. But I needed the safety of that environment to be able to do that.

Now I don’t pretend to assume that most Christian schools afford people that opportunity (not that all people found it at my college either), but it seems like we are in desperate need of such “safe places.” Places where we are free to question and push ideas without being made to feel guilty or defend our most basic assumptions. If we can’t get past the questions of “is there a God” or “is truth relative” then how can we ever truly grow? Those are needed questions at times, but sometimes the answers must just be taken on faith in order for us to move the conversation (and our emotional/mental/spiritual heath) along. But where are those safe places? It seems to me that the church should in a sense serve that function, but most people view the church as unsafe and unhealthy. How can this change or where else can we go?

I’m writing two posts in one! Firstly I just quickly wanted to recommend that you read September’s Tuesday book club book – “The Faith Club” it is an excellent book which I have really enjoyed reading. The interfaith dialogue is great and I have learnt things about Islam and Judism which I never knew before. I’m really looking forward to the Tuesday discussions.

A few weeks ago (apologies as I’ve been on vacation) Julie noted in her weekly round up that some of us from Emerging Women had taken part in a synchroblog called “Things I learnt from Church (which didn’t prove true and what I’m learning lately)” I wanted to hear some of your thoughts here. What sort of things have you “learnt” from church which you now realize were not true and how would you say your faith is growing lately? Have you found your belief is God put to the test through your “emerging” journey or has it been more strengthened? Do you find your emerging journey difficult or is it more of a relief? Has it put you in conflict with loved ones and close friends?

What does it mean when the common label given to a group of people is a negative description imposed upon them? At a recent seminar on poverty reduction for Haiti I attended, the presenter’s historical overview of Haiti was interrupted by the woman sitting next to me. She mentioned that she would greatly appreciate it if he would stop referring to people as slaves. Those were men and women who had slavery forced upon them, not people whose core identity was that of being a slave. Slavery was a horror they had to endure, not the essence of who they were. The presenter thanked her for bringing that distinction to our attention and proceeded to integrate her suggestions into his talk.

We all use labels to self-identify and make sense of our world. They are unavoidable and often necessary. As a culture we have attempted in recent years to move away from offensive labels or ones that objectify others. Reducing a woman to a particular body part is far from acceptable speech. And no one would ever categorize victims of sexual assault merely as “the raped.” No, we attempt with our words and labels to respect people and focus on positive categories. Yet the negative label of oppression, “slave,” is still in common usage. Even in a presentation on how we can overcome the negative effects of slavery the term is so common its usage is assumed – until someone challenged it and forced us to consider the implications of our words.

This woman’s request forced me to consider the negative label we as Christians use all the time – “the lost.” I’ve heard from a number of people who have had that label imposed upon them that they find it highly offensive. They do not appreciate having others insist that at the core of their identity they are mistaken, misguided, or just plain ignorant. They dislike being seen in terms that generally imply that they are a project to be saved not a person to be loved or respected. I understand that we as Christians do hold certain theologies of sin and redemption, but perhaps we need to seriously consider the impact our use of labels has on the very people we are trying to reach. That may mean abandoning the practice of assigning labels to people who are not like us altogether. And maybe, just maybe, it may mean getting to know, love, and respect people as people.