Voices: Am I denominationally homeless?

Nearly 25 years ago, the Southern Baptist Convention passed a revision to its Baptist Faith and Message that limited the “office” of “pastor” to “men.”

At the time, I defiantly proclaimed the convention would not get rid of me that easily. But when First Baptist Church of Alexandria, Va., was ousted from the convention on the first night of this year’s meeting, I was prepared to write an article acknowledging I now was denominationally homeless.

But then something remarkable happened. The so-called “Law Amendment” was defeated, and I was thrown into utter confusion about my role in the denomination that has been my home for nearly my entire life.

Fool’s gold

One media outlet framed the vote as a possible victory for proponents of local church autonomy, but, as an outsider to the national meeting, I don’t see it that way.

For one thing, further reporting seems to suggest messengers who voted against the amendment did so mostly on procedural grounds, not because they think forbidding women from being a pastor “of any kind” is wrong.

After all, an overwhelming majority of messengers still voted to disfellowship a church that had a woman as a “pastor to children and women,” in spite of the fact one could construe such a position as not only permissible but wise and probably necessary for a church that size.

And let’s not forget, although the amendment failed, it still garnered the support of a substantial majority of messengers.

For another thing, Baptists still are not dealing honestly with the issue of language verses function.

Can messengers really police the functions women perform in Southern Baptist churches? Do they really have the time and the expertise to evaluate job descriptions to see whether a woman is doing pastoral tasks—especially since certain Southern Baptist leaders refuse even to consider clarifying what those tasks might be? And is that even their job?

A predictable outcome

In spite of the failure of the Law Amendment, the actions taken by the SBC the last two years constitute an almost unmitigated disaster. Not only has the convention defied the teachings of Scripture—while claiming to champion faithfulness thereto—and its own polity, but this turn of events was entirely predictable.

Article VI of the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message is clear there are only two “offices” in the church. That, in and of itself, is a problematic position to take, but we’ll leave that issue aside for now. Rather, we should observe the way many Southern Baptists talk about this issue is in direct contradiction to their own confession.

Everyone who works with a woman in ministry—regardless of her title—knows she functions as an officer of the church. It doesn’t matter whether you call her a “director,” a “minister” or a “pastor,” she functions with the authority of her calling, and she clearly is not a deacon. So, what is she?

This question was bound to bubble to the surface, but Southern Baptists have made things so much worse by doubling-down on the false narrative that acknowledging the calling of women to pastoral ministry confuses gender roles and undermines God’s vision for the family.

That false narrative adds urgency to the fight, and it also justifies—even if wrongly—the caricatures of critics who refuse to take the arguments made by Southern Baptist leaders at face-value.

Rather than dealing honestly and empathetically with the questions of biblical faithfulness raised by the SBC, its critics cast the debate entirely in terms of a male-dominated, politically conservative denomination trying to manipulate its founding documents so as to oppress women and ignore their pleas for justice.

The whole conversation has become a toxic waste dump of mutual suspicion and interminable enmity.

An unappetizing choice

So, I am left with an unappetizing choice. I could leave the SBC and thereby remain faithful to my convictions. But where would I go? If God moves me on from my current church position, how would I fulfill my calling? How would I help my wife put food on our table and keep a roof over our heads, much less prepare for retirement?

More to the point, how would I help Southern Baptists confront the many other challenges faced by the 21st-century church?

Maybe that is not my job anymore. Maybe a denomination that explicitly defines itself in terms of its complementarian identity has shown me the door, and I’m just too stupid or too stubborn to walk through it. But I hate giving up, and I don’t want this once-proud powerhouse of gospel missions to decay into a haunt for sub-Christian ideologies and endless disunity.

Or I could stay and fight. I could speak prophetically to a convention corrupted by generations of political, cultural, social and other factors beyond my control—all while trying to be fairer to the people I critique than other critics have been.

But how could I do that while remaining faithful to the many women whom Christ has called into his service? How could I look the women who populate my classes in the face—women of remarkable gentleness, faithfulness, intelligence and courage?

How could I claim to be faithful to my own wife as she seeks to fulfill her calling in how she leads, serves, counsels and (occasionally) preaches? Indeed, how could I be faithful to the women who already have been burned by the SBC, some of whom are my friends?

More fundamentally, how could I be faithful to my own convictions? Even if I speak prophetically, I am still identifying with a denomination whose beliefs are out of step with my own. I still would be identifying with an organization whose employment practices are, in my view, both unbiblical and unwise.

How can I stay and retain the integrity of my soul? How can I engage the impossible task of rescuing the SBC from itself without losing myself in the process? Surely Christ calls us to self-denial and self-mortification (See Matthew 16:21-27), but is this kind of self-abandonment what he has in mind?

In the end, I cannot tolerate a system in which complementarian men are assumed to be misogynists. I know too many who are not. But neither can I ignore the corruption that has swallowed the SBC whole, nor can I ignore the unbiblical subordination inherent in complementarian thought.

I do not know where this angst will lead me. All I can do is reach out for the hand of Jesus and follow him wherever he leads.

Wade Berry is pastor of Second Baptist Church in Ranger and resident fellow in New Testament and Greek at B.H. Carroll Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.