Remember all those times I swore I had left the nineteenth century behind? Well, if you look at a calendar, we’re sitting in the 21st century in Quiverfull, but most of the time it feels like the nineteenth (or maybe even the seventeenth).
Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement by Kathryn Joyce is a gripping and horrendous outsider approach to the complementarian evangelical Protestant church — a world in which I sometimes occupy space. Joyce approaches Christian patriarchy with an investigative eye, but she warns in the introduction that she’s interested in extremists and fundamentalists. This book is by no means representative of the whole; rather, it is an exploration of a small subset within Christianity. That being said, to my own personal chagrin, I was disturbed by how much seemingly neutral Christian culture that I grew up with made it into the book. At one point, Joyce even mentions a Christian and Missionary Alliance Church.
Joyce herself is not a Christian, but she is fluent enough in “Christianese” to both communicate with her contacts and to convey their stories to people outside of evangelical Protestantism. At times, she is too quick to boil everything down to five-point Calvinism, perhaps because John Piper and Wayne Grudem of the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (and editors of Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism) are themselves five-point Calvinists. There are Calvinists who are egalitarian (like myself, hovering between three and four points of agreement usually) and there are Arminians who are complementarian. Other than discussing the five basic tenants of Calvinism and the doctrines regarding men and women, Joyce avoids theology and never blames Christianity itself (or Jesus, for that matter) for the injustices of the complementarian church.
The book is divided up into three sections, Wives, Mothers and Daughters. Joyce works through the flagship Bible verses defending complementarian hierarchy while simultaneously telling the stories of women within the confines of the patriarchy movement. The wives either meet with each other for weekend retreats where their male pastor has to supervise their activities or they contribute food to potluck lunches or they keep quietly to themselves at home. In some of the extreme churches that Joyce visits, women are discouraged from having any relationships with other women. Female friendship leads to gossip, nagging, discontent — the women must be available for their husbands at all times, and the husbands alone are to provide for their wives’ emotional needs. This kind of power monopoly, instead of leading to the healthy lives that the CBMW proposes, damages subjugated women psychologically. Isolation, defined as controlling what you do, who you see and talk to, where you go, limiting your outside involvement; using jealousy to justify actions, and sabotaging new and old relationships, is considered a type of abuse. In these patriarchal churches, men are admonished to treat their wives exactly like that.
With power comes the abuse of power, and Joyce gives several examples of places where psychological abuse becomes physical. The church tells women that their duty as Christians is to be sexually chaste until marriage, but then suddenly sexually available whenever their husband desires sex (whether or not she wants it). Wives in some of these patriarchal communities become the victims of spousal abuse, marital rape and murder plots. Going to the church instead of to law enforcement, they are asked about whether or not they have been nagging their husbands, or if they were being as submissive as they could be. In one of Grudem’s essays in Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (because I own a copy of this book), he provides a list of things that submission shouldn’t be, and these abuses are considered wrong in theory. But in practice, the submission preached by the extremist complementarians is dangerous.
The mothers and daughters in this patriarchal world fare no better than wives, and most women are expected to fulfill all three roles at the same time. Daughters must remain faithful to their fathers until they marry, usually at an early age after a courting period instead of dating. New wives must be sexually available to their husbands, and birth control is considered evil. Thus, wives become mothers quickly and over and over again. This constant pregnancy has become a part of the complementarian system. Good Christian families must have many children, a full quiver of them, as prolonged spiritual warfare. Because naturally, if you are a part of the elect chosen ones of God, then your offspring, and their offspring, and their offspring, will all be valiant Christian soldiers as well (because salvation by faith is not, you know, an individual choice or anything, right? I guess not, if you’re a hyper-Calvinist).
So why did I bring up the nineteenth century at the beginning of this post? Because extreme complementarianism, as it is being practiced in the United States, is like a photoshopped version of the nineteenth century. Men and women are in separate spheres. Men lead public lives, women lead private ones. Nuclear family is the key building block of society. Young men and women seek parental approval to court one another (and of course are not having sex until marriage). In some of the communities, strong and intimate female friendships exist and are reinforced by women’s retreats and same-sex Bible studies. They believe that men should be paid a “family wage” to support their whole family, while women should be paid much less, because her income does not contribute to the family. A real woman should not work at all. Some of the male leaders of the extreme complementarian churches Joyce researches in Quiverfull actively pursue recreation of the past, including the Jamestown settlement, as a part of God’s mandate to take dominion over the earth. These same men wish that the technological advances of the forties and the fifties, like laundry machines and dishwashers, had never been invented. The fanciful obsession with nineteenth century life, in this airbrushed form, becomes an oppressive way of life defended as biblical (despite some glaring misinterpretations and a rejection of large portions of Old Testament scripture. Deborah, anyone?).
Quiverfull is a fantastic book. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the theological debate over manhood and womanhood, and to anyone — especially Christians — who is interested in the way our society works.