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All that was left was the letter "s"

This piece cuts through decades of theological debate not with new scripture, but with a devastating inventory of real-world contradictions. Jen Ellis, drawing on 25 years of global missions leadership, exposes the cognitive dissonance at the heart of restricting women's authority in the church, arguing that the logic used to silence women crumbles when tested against the character of God and the reality of human suffering. For anyone tired of abstract doctrinal squabbles, this is a grounding reminder that policy has a human cost.

The Cost of Inconsistency

Ellis begins by dismantling the idea that restrictions on women are clear biblical mandates, pointing instead to a culture of unexamined tradition. She recounts a pivotal conversation where a father angrily defended his daughter against workplace sexism, only to argue that women lacked the capacity for spiritual leadership in the church. "I wondered at the time whether he recalled his earlier comments about his daughter in her workplace…" she writes. This juxtaposition is the essay's opening gambit: the same men who demand justice in the secular world often accept injustice in the sacred.

All that was left was the letter "s"

The author's background is crucial here. Having worked in missions where leadership was open to all, she notes, "Because of the welcome and freedom given to all individuals related to any leadership role, I do not carry any ongoing personal pain or difficulty related to this issue." This personal freedom stands in stark contrast to the pain she observes in churches that enforce complementarianism. She lists twenty-four specific, "boots on the ground" questions that reveal the absurdity of the status quo, such as why a woman can manage a million-dollar business but is deemed unfit to decide on a $10,000 carpeting issue for the church.

"If women must be married to have spiritual covering, to minister but only with their husband present, and are considered to have added value as wives and mothers, then what occurs in the hearts of single women related to their worth and value?"

This line strikes at the heart of the institutional failure. By tying spiritual authority to marital status, the church effectively devalues the single woman, a demographic that has historically been vital to the movement's work. Critics might argue that these restrictions are about order rather than worth, but Ellis counters that the effect is the same: a systematic diminishment of half the population's agency.

The Theological Framework

Moving from observation to theology, Ellis shifts her focus from specific New Testament verses—which she acknowledges are often weaponized by both sides—to the broader narrative of God's character. She argues that any interpretation of scripture must align with who God is revealed to be. "I have never been able to reconcile New Testament passages presented as limiting women in ministry with the broader witness of God's character, nature, and consistent ways of acting," she states. This is a significant methodological pivot. Instead of getting bogged down in the Greek grammar of a single verse, she asks if the outcome of that interpretation reflects a God of love and justice.

She highlights the selective application of the "Fall" narrative. While some traditions lean heavily on Genesis 3:16 to enforce female submission, they simultaneously work to mitigate the other curses of the fall, such as painful childbirth or difficult labor. "Why are we selective in our values over those 'results of the fall' issues in Genesis 3?" she asks. "We claim it is Eve who first sinned... Yet we as humans seem to actively work against the other penalties of that fall." This observation is particularly potent when viewed through the lens of Christian egalitarianism, which argues that the restoration of Edenic equality is the goal of the gospel, not the perpetuation of fallen hierarchies.

"If women are considered inferior teachers, or more prone to deception, then what is the message we give to women when we say that a female teacher or speaker is acceptable for their gender, but not men?"

The logic here is unassailable: if the restriction is based on capability, then a woman teaching women should be just as dangerous as a woman teaching men. The fact that it isn't suggests the restriction is about power, not protection. Ellis also touches on the tragic history of abuse within these structures, noting how the silence of male elders often enabled abusers. She asks, "If women had held leadership roles at every level for centuries, would sexual misconduct including child sexual abuse, and domestic violence have flourished as they have?" This is a heavy, necessary question that moves the debate from theology to safety.

The Human Reality

The most haunting part of the essay is its focus on the psychological toll of these policies. Ellis describes the "moral injury" experienced by women who are told their gifts are real but their authority is forbidden. She recalls a specific instance of silence in a church meeting when a woman asked if women could be elders. "An uncomfortable silence fell over the large room, after which the convener simply went on with business," she writes. "No one in the room that day received an answer... But all in the room knew that there were consequences for asking that question."

This silence is a form of violence. It mirrors the dynamics of spiritual abuse where questioning the hierarchy is punished. Ellis connects this to the global context, noting that the shame felt by women in rural Minnesota is identical to the shame felt by women in male-dominated societies overseas. "Why do I observe the same effects on women in rural Minnesota... as I did on the mission field?" she asks. This global perspective challenges the insular nature of many Western theological debates, reminding readers that these policies have real, cross-cultural consequences.

"If women are less in value, in capacity, weaker in all ways, and meant to serve only, then what does that say about a God who sovereignly chose their gender? Did He willingly and purposely create a gender to be the biblically mandated servant of others simply based on a DNA characteristic?"

This rhetorical question cuts through the theological fog. It forces the reader to confront the implication that God created a specific group of people to be second-class citizens. For those who hold to complementarianism, the argument is often that this is a "functional" distinction, not an ontological one. However, as Ellis points out, when the functional distinction results in the denial of authority and the perpetuation of shame, the line between function and value becomes dangerously thin.

Bottom Line

Jen Ellis's essay is a masterclass in using lived experience to test theological consistency, forcing a confrontation between abstract doctrine and the tangible reality of human dignity. Its greatest strength is the relentless accumulation of contradictions that make the status quo indefensible, while its potential vulnerability lies in its assumption that all readers share her baseline conviction about God's character. For the busy reader, this piece offers a clear verdict: the current restrictions on women in the church are not just theologically shaky, but morally corrosive, and the cost of maintaining them is measured in silenced voices and unhealed wounds.

Deep Dives

Explore these related deep dives:

  • Christian egalitarianism

    The article directly discusses the egalitarian vs complementarian debate within Christianity regarding women's roles. This Wikipedia article provides historical context, theological arguments, and denominational positions that would deepen understanding of the theological framework the author operates within.

  • Complementarianism

    The author explicitly mentions growing up in a complementarian church and contrasts it with her egalitarian mission career. Understanding the theological and historical development of complementarian doctrine provides essential context for the restrictions on women she questions throughout the essay.

Sources

All that was left was the letter "s"

by Scot McKnight · Scot McKnight · Read full article

By Jen Ellis

With 25 years in global missions leadership and first hand experience of moral injury, Jen Ellis works as a speaker and trainer, equipping healthcare and other frontline professionals to build trustworthy teams, navigate brokenness wisely, and lead with lasting influence.

Hindsight continues to be one of the most effective teachers in my life. Particularly as I grow older and have more of it available to me. Hindsight shows not only the outcomes of a singular decision, but it reveals patterns when viewing multiple past processes.

This dynamic has given me much to ponder in relation to the role and value of women in society, but particularly in the church. One of these hindsight moment started over a cup of coffee but ended two years later.

Having spent most of my adult life overseas with a missions organization, catching up with friends was a highlight of holidays in the USA. During one such time, my friend and I were joined by her husband for a conversation composed of the familiar and the funny.

At one point, her husband brought up the subject of their daughter and a workplace scenario. One of her co-workers, an older man, often made belittling comments about her capabilities because she was female. She found them frustrating and painful, and her father was particularly angry over this treatment of his daughter.

Conversation then turned to women in the church, specifically related to authority, leadership and public roles. The husband’s view was that women did not have the capacity to handle the financial, spiritual, and organizational decisions that a male elders’ group often consider. I wondered at the time whether he recalled his earlier comments about his daughter in her workplace…

Although I had an egalitarian mission career, I grew up in a complementarian church. I didn’t understand this biblical restriction on women in ministry and had questions about what I saw even as a child. I was twelve when I tried to find out why women were not allowed to collect the offering at a service, but they were allowed to do the work of accounting and bookkeeping for that same money. The leader I asked about the collection protocol mumbled for a while before answering “it just doesn’t look right.” Even then, I knew that looking right wasn’t a suitable reason for biblical imperatives.

The mission organization with which I worked welcomed any ...