The Church and Consent Part Two: Birthright by Jill Dyer
Our Birthright
(written by Jill Dyer)
The church of Christ was an odd salmon color, like the insides of a fish. The double doors were wood and often propped open with a piece of wood jamming them into position. I had grown up in this church. I knew the best hide and seek spot behind the furnace in the basement closet. I had played (unbeknownst to my parents) in the empty baptistry. I loved it when the church was empty and I could run like a wild child.
In my teen years, my dad became an elder. I thought this was odd.
He did not seem to enjoy people very much and the job of an elder was to “manage God’s household” which is surely full of people.
We lived less than a mile from the church. We helped with landscaping, cleaning, childcare and attended all the potlucks.
One Sunday when I was 16, another elder, an older gentleman who was well-liked, came up to me and said, “Jill, I am so proud of what a good girl you are. Did you know that your dad could not be an elder in the church if you weren’t so good?”
Titus 1:6
An elder must be blameless, faithful to his wife, a man whose children believe and are not open to the charge of being wild and disobedient.
I froze. I stared at his blue eyes and white eyebrows. One of his eyebrow hairs stuck straight out like a dog’s whisker.
My hidden shame was a “relationship”* I had with a teacher at the private Christian high school affiliated with our denomination. If people knew about the sexual nature of this relationship, it would surely be categorized as “wild and disobedient.” Yet I hid it like a snake in tall grass.
My shame was wicked and sharp. It rendered me incapable of doing anything but pleasantly nodding while my body flooded. This denial of truth was as easy as tying my shoe. I did it every day.
I walked away thinking with cynicism, “If only he knew…”
There were many people who could have noticed what was happening to me. It was not as veiled as I would have liked to think. But the church and parachurch organizations are often conditioned to allow for poor boundaries, excuses, and the hero-worship of leaders. Each of these categories opposes consent.
Consent: When one person voluntarily and wholeheartedly agrees to the suggestion or desires of another. The opposite of consent could be: Assumed, pressured, silent, reluctant, and/or unconscious decisions made out of perceived obligation.
Obviously, my “relationship” with the teacher was sexual abuse. I was a minor, the teacher was an adult in a position of power. Three main factors kept me quiet about my abuse. 1. Shame: I truly felt I might die if someone found out. 2. My sympathetic nervous system was stuck in the freeze state. 3. I was taught to obey people in authority.
Consent is not a topic I ever heard addressed in church. In fact, the body was not a topic I heard about except for warning of its dangers. Because I was conditioned to listen to authorities, I was easy prey to an abuser. It has taken years of unlearning and therapy to create boundaries and develop a sense of self. My new identity does not allow nor require me to give to anyone without my enthusiastic consent.
Let me be clear, I love Jesus. I love his people. I know when we gather, the potential for good is profound, AS is the potential for harm. I am not against the church. I AM against all policies and practices, beliefs and rhetoric that oppress and harm the human body and soul.
I sure have some questions for good ol’ Titus and Timothy. Did the patriarchal culture dominate their writing? Or are there things I don’t yet see about the particular storied individuals they were writing to?
When the elder in my story tied my behavior to my dad’s position he was upholding a narcissistic system. I am not in charge of making my dad look good nor advance in the church. Do I believe this elder’s intentions were malicious? No. But they were unhealthy and uninformed.
Who would I be if I had been raised in a culture of consent?
If I had not been forced to hug unsafe uncles and grandfathers? If I had dared to put words to my experience rather than swallowing the pills of deceit I was fed daily? What would I be like today if I knew from birth that my body was mine and that I was in charge of all aspects of giving and receiving?
I was taught to override and deny what my good body spoke to me. I am just now learning how to tune in to the sensations and knowledge of my divinely created body.
Church culture often has us override “no’s” with “yes’s” under the guise of loving another person and/or pleasing God.
I believe this teaches that our God-given hearts, minds, and bodies do not have agency nor honor. Real love is a choice to give out of the overflow, not out of obligation.
And when it is given as a sacrifice, the sacrifice isn’t of one’s true feelings, thoughts, needs, or knowledge but as an “I choose you at this moment over myself,” knowing full well I am worthy, loved, and at some point, care will come for me too.
Jesus sacrificed his life on the cross. That is a love I will be endlessly exploring.
Yet Jesus did not bind himself to ENDLESS sacrifice. He is seated at the right hand of the Father, back where he belongs, albeit with a few new scars. He is enjoying the endless care of the Father and Spirit. The dance of the Trinity is one of never-ending giving and receiving.
I believe the Trinity is the author of consent. Divine love comes to us ultimately in question form: Will you receive my love and will you love me back? We are not forced to answer affirmatively but invited to belong.
I believe God longs for us, wants us, and desires us. All of those words could be used as sexual adjectives which hint at the intimacy of the love offered to us. Love requires a deep vulnerability of God. He allows himself to experience our rejection. The Divine has infinite resources and yet chooses to be vulnerable to us. The choice to respond to Holy vulnerability is ours.