Polarized

My friend John was recently in a conversation about gender roles. Specifically, the theological positions on power, responsibility and opportunity for women and men. The age old question is, "Did God intend one gender to carry more authority and responsibility and therefore intend the highest power opportunities in the church to that gender (usually the one with the Y chromosome)?"

John's companion was interesting and articulate. John enjoyed hearing this person's views on almost any topic because they mix thoughtful processing with passionate expression—truly a laudable combination. It was immediately clear that John and his friend differed in their positions on this important issue.

His friend said "My belief is simple. I am an egalitarian. I believe in total and equal access to all roles, offices and stations of spiritual power for both genders. My belief boils down to this: It is a justice issue. Deep down I believe in equality … we know this to be true in the realms of voting, idea generation, intellect, activism, moral fortitude and business acumen. Deep down I feel strongly that God created the genders as equals. I also feel that equality requires equal access to all seats of power, even those inside the church."

John responded. "How can you let men off the hook that way? We have a responsibility epidemic in our culture today. We must take a stand for better fathers, better husbands and more committed church leaders. Men need to stop playing video games and engage. We need to be calling men to more responsibility not less.

How can you support the wimpification of men?"

Either/or, neither/nor

On the issue of gender roles, you may agree with either John or his friend. Perhaps you don't agree with either of them. But I hope it illustrates the false dichotomies that sometimes exist around religious issues.

John's reaction was based on a correlation that is not necessarily true. To him, to be egalitarian (believing that all roles in the church are open to both genders) means also having lower expectations of men. Which, of course, is not true. The actual opposite of being an egalitarian is to believe that there are certain spiritual stations (like being an elder or a pastor) that are not available to woman.

The ironic thing about this story is that John is one of the most obnoxious people I know in criticizing the passivity and laziness in our culture, particularly among young male adults. My friend lives in Portland, Oregon, which was described as "the place where young people go to retire." He hates that phrase mostly because he knows it is often true. I have heard him call out men in his life who he finds to be particularly adolescent.

Why do we do this? Why do we create false dichotomies around religious issues? On some level, I imagine we have come by the practice honestly. Often debates are framed with related, but not correlated, ideas fused together as if they were inseparable. To extend the illustration of gender roles, I have seen pastors defend complementarian positions with data about how irresponsible young men have become. But who doesn't support young guys "manning up?' Parents want their sons to be more responsible. Churches want strength and commitment from this often absent part of their congregations. Who doesn't want men to grow up, engage, commit, lead … heck, just show up?

But one can be an egalitarian and desire all those same things for young men too. It's a false opposition. You see what I mean?

Some time ago, I bumped into an old friend who I hadn't seen for a long time. I have known him for almost twenty years. We met on the mission field when I was a young evangelist. Those were great days. We both worked for an organization that was a global leader in proclamational evangelism.

During our conversation, my old, lovely friend lamented that I had abandoned my commitment to evangelism. I was shocked. What?

I wanted to scream, "What are you talking about?!" I felt like I had been wrongfully judged. I wanted to pull out my resume which includes extensive work as a professor of evangelism at several seminaries. I wanted to justify myself … but I chose not to, at least not right away. Instead, I began to carefully ask questions to try and figure out where this opinion of me had come from. Really I just wanted my old friend to talk, so I could understand.

After about five minutes of careful questions the connection became clear. My old friend had been following my writings from afar (including my many columns here on Leadership Journal). He noted that I had spilt much ink exploring the ideas of spiritual listening and social justice. My friend felt that my commitment to those topics, often seen as "liberal," must mean that I had abandoned my commitment to gospel proclamation, that somehow those two passions cannot exist in the same person.

False dichotomy.

A plaque on the door

Why do we do this? It is as if a belief is like a plaque on a door. We assume too often that if someone adheres to a particular belief then they necessarily adhere to a whole room of assumptions on the door's other side.

The Lord knows that I myself have done this. I've been the one to assume, to cast the reflex judgment. I am sure that this happens in many realms of life, but we see it all the time in the realm of faith. Here are a few other examples that are admittedly a bit extreme in order to make a point:

If one does not take the first chapters of Genesis as literal history, then that person must not believe the Bible is truly authoritative.
If one self-defines as a political conservative then they must not be socially compassionate.
If one is pro-mother then they could never also be pro-fetus.
If one is a pacifist they must be anti-soldier … OR if one believes in a strong military, they must be pro-war.
If one believes that we can learn much spiritually from the writing of Mohammed and Buddha then they must be soft on the absolute centrality and uniqueness of Jesus.

So here is my suggestion. Let's not do that. When we come across someone who expresses a theological or doctrinal position—the sort of statement that could easily fit on a small plaque on the door, let's take a moment to suspend assumptions. Even though we may have had hundreds of experiences that we believe determine what is on that door's other side, let's wait.

You see, if we can take a few minutes to explore deeper into the other person's beliefs, we may be surprised at the fresh nuances we may discover.

What if, instead of just skimming the plaque on the door, we decided to knock? When we emphasize understanding over assumption, we may be surprised at how much sense a different opinion can make.

Tony Kriz is a writer and church leader from Portland, Oregon, and Author in Residence at Warner Pacific College.