A Letter to the Evangelical Church by Tiffany Bluhm

Dear Evangelical Church,

I’ve been meaning to catch up. To have a heart to heart. As you know, I’ve long been grateful for how you took me in. When I felt like I was lost at sea, you told me of a mysterious love that would never leave me, never forsake me. You convinced me that life with Christ would usher in the fullness of God. I believed you and you were right.

From the scriptures and those positioned to influence, I discovered this glorious life with Christ was for all people, no matter their race, no matter their class, no matter if they were man or woman. From first century writers, I learned that those on the margins were welcomed into the Kingdom of God as equals, as heirs, not as second-rate citizens. Yet, in the past few years, you’ve bolstered beliefs that harm, have remained silent when your voice was sorely needed, and harbored men who’ve done nothing to contribute to human flourishing, but instead silenced and slandered the women who spoke truth to their lies.

I’m perplexed, church. In high school you told me that my body belonged to the Lord and to my future husband, and that it was my job to ensure I didn’t cause my brothers to stumble. You told me true love waits. You told me that if I did as you said, I would be blessed. I believed every word. I followed every rule you gave. More than that, you told me you’d be there for me. You told me that my place and voice mattered. Instead, faux egalitarianism was all you offered me. Women’s voices were not necessarily voices to be heard, but voices to be stifled.

You’ll remember church, that as a twenty something, I chose to work for you. I spent my days building you up, encouraging you, and learning alongside brothers and sisters. It wasn’t perfect, but I loved it. After all, you had invited me in, and I made it my life’s work to invite others in.

Yet, when the daughters of Eve needed you most, when men in countless faith spaces abused their power at a woman’s expense, you left us high and dry, despite our thinking you would come to our defense. Despite our assumptions that you would assist in tending to our wounds. Rather than rebuke the abusers of power, you rebuked us. We were out of line. It wasn’t our place to speak up.

At the time I didn’t understand, church, why I, and women for millennia, have served as scapegoats, as collateral damage to protect men in power. As I’ve gained insight and understanding on why silencing women has become a cultural norm within your walls, I’m more convinced than ever, that to right our cultural wrongs, to uphold women as equal in the eyes of God, we must pursue our highest ideals. Ideals that believe women are not second to men. They are image bearers. Overcomers. Partners in the great work.

We have a long way to go, church, but if we listen to those we’ve silenced and stifled, admit where we’ve gotten it wrong, and partner with the Divine to bind up the brokenhearted, maybe we can be the place of peace and hope we were called to be.

Tiffany Bluhm