Are You Going To Do Angry Writing?
“Are you going to do angry writing?”. Maybe it was the look on my face or maybe it was because it was still Thursday afternoon. I don’t normally write on Thursdays but I was agitated, armed with my laptop. I told him I wasn’t to be disturbed for at least four hours. I suggested he protect me at all costs from the children, turn down his enthusiastic ‘I’m still working from home’ meeting voice and bring me some sustenance around 5pm. 1200 words can really take it out of me.
It had been a ‘day and a half’. I was processing events, but in the same way you should never send an angry email to your boss or say something stupid on social media before you go to bed, you should also never write straightaway about certain subjects. It’s much better to let it fester for a fortnight. “No,” I replied. I wouldn’t be writing about that yet. I was focusing instead on my favourite subject – myself. Six months after resigning1, where did I expect to be? Probably not where I’d been that day.
But I was angry. As I’d listened to Good Morning Ulster2, I could feel my heartrate rising. My Apple Watch detected a dangerous surge of feminism. A younger man was up against an older woman. Both had the same title, the same calling and the same gifts but wildly different points of view. I don’t know what else the newly-elected moderator-designate had said, possibly something bland about the need for change. I’m not sure if he mentioned the cost of living, artificial intelligence, racial violence, Andrew Tate but controversy sells and the press had decided that this would define his one year in office. There was reference to freedom of conscience. The presenter couldn’t get her head around it. Neither could the father of my four daughters. He didn’t understand why an organisation promoted its equal opportunities policy yet simultaneously endorsed such deviation from the rules. “It’s a get-out clause,” I said. But like non-regulated school uniform where individualism eventually wins, it leaves the door wide open for abuse. It puts women in highly vulnerable positions when they are both allowed yet not allowed to do stuff. It puts them at the mercy of an ungoverned system which becomes hands-off at the first sign of trouble. It didn’t feel quite right when the younger man told the older woman what he reckoned united them, that they were “made in the image of God and of equal value and worth”. “Unless you want to become a minister in the eyes of the new Presbyterian moderator in which case, you are not equal,” said the presenter.
I was heading geographically from A to B, South to East. I’d been journeying through the Bible in Dunmurry. It was nice and pleasant, safe, nothing too controversial. I get a warm raspberry and white chocolate scone half-way through. I am now familiar with the Pentateuch. I’d been learning about laws, archaeological artefacts, the bigger picture, how the Bible is primarily the story of one family, not a rulebook. I’d specifically underlined how context is everything in my special notebook. Next time someone quotes 1 Timothy 2:12, I’ll remind them of Leviticus 19:19. I’ll check their labels. Polyester blends are everywhere.
On the road that runs over the motorway, I’d vented my anger, beeped my horn, wound my window down, given a man holding an orange cone a piece of my mind. The roadworks were being mismanaged, the temporary traffic lights were pointing the wrong way, cars were meeting each other head-on, there was potential stalemate and no-one was dealing with it. It felt similar to where the Presbyterian Church had positioned itself. It definitely wasn’t going to help with the public profile. The Belfast Telegraph was digging out dodgy YouTube sermons. I fell into a toxic rabbit hole as I browsed the comments. “It’s misogyny dressed up as faith,” said one side. “It’s great to see obedience to Gospel truth,” said the other. I’d been reading The Authority Gap3. There was nothing in it I didn’t already know. Systemic sexism underpinned by unconscious bias still pervades in every area of society. Women are underestimated, ignored, patronised, judged, demeaned, diminished, attacked. They are caught in a double bind – overlooked if they don’t speak up, hated if they do, blamed for not being assertive enough, punished for being too assertive. “There is progress in some areas,” said Mary Ann Sieghart. But in others, subtle, more covert bias has replaced the old-fashioned overt kind. “Religion, as always, is dragging along at the back,” she said. “At least he’s honest,” said my husband, “better to set your cards on the table”.
I was on my way to a gathering. I’d been co-opted on to a panel. My qualifications didn’t matter, I was there to assist with its gender balance. There were fifteen men and me. Most of them lived in a manse. I kept counting them, moving my handbag from under their feet. They were discussing the situation. I contemplated joining in but I didn’t know where they stood on the teaching authority of women so I arranged the sandwiches instead. I was mindful of what Mary Ann Sieghart said about women needing to be warm and likeable. I made a joke about letting the men eat first. I remembered what she’d said too about using humour to deflect any hostility. “I felt like I had my bodyguards on either side of me,” I said to my husband later as he finished the ironing. I know it’s not all men.
“Northern Ireland is an absurd place,” said Andrew Cunning on Slugger O’Toole4. “The Presbyterian Church in Ireland was in the headlines this week. Their next Moderator seems a little on the anti side when it comes to women in the pulpit”.
He did not mince his words. “The liberals in the church, the ones not liberal enough to jump ship when the church barred queer people in 2018, are incandescent with rage. How dare they choose a man with such dangerous and backward ideas. It seems to have come as a shock to some Presbyterians. Further evidence, perhaps, that some folks are only capable of caring when something impacts them personally”.
And he’s probably right. Maybe we do only care about certain things. Maybe there are more things we should be angry about. Diversity and inclusion is not really on any agenda. To be welcome, you have to slip in and fit in. Two days after PCI released a statement to make it clear that its policy on the ordination of women ministers remained unchanged, I listened to a woman on a stage speak authoritatively and powerfully on Scripture. I saw the battle every woman faces, the different standards they have to aspire to. “She has good diction,” said the lady to my left. I wondered had anyone heard what she said. “The biggest crisis facing the church at the moment is a crisis of belonging”. The church is a social club that is screening its members. It is uniformity not unity that matters most.
“The mistake PCI make, like many churches,” said Andrew Cunning, “is believing that they are in some way separate from the world. In the world but not of the world, is the way Christ reportedly put it. Of course, saying this doesn’t make it true. In reality, the church is very much in and of the world. It helps shape the culture of its setting, either by intentional action, or by passive submission to a dominant worldview”5.
I don’t think this is angry writing. It’s slightly disappointed, defeated writing, another one where I risk potential fallout. Someone will be offended, someone will say I should have kept quiet but sadly, the attitudes to women inside the church reflect a lack of interest in the experiences of women outside the church. It seems such a shame that where the church could choose to take a stand, instigate intentional action to affirm women, be an impassioned voice against the continued subjugation of women, it has chosen not to be.
On Saturday, there were ‘89 rules for life’ in The Times. “Avoid all musical entertainment involving Stephen Sondheim” and “never interpose yourself between two spitting llamas” were two of my favourites. “When sending emails6,” the article said, “women should remove the first and last sentences because these are the ones where you’re almost certainly apologising for what you’re about to say or negating what you’ve just said”. As I hit publish, I hope I have taken this advice on board.
BBC Northern Ireland radio programme.
The Authority Gap by Mary Ann Sieghart.
Or publishing their writing!
Really good read, find it a bit confusing that Jesus was radically inclusive and the church doesn’t seem to reflect this at all….