When I went to school, boys wore pants (never jeans) and girls wore dresses or skirts. My elementary school had a boys' entrance and girls' entrance. The playground was divided in two -- boys on one side, girls on the other. The boys' "half" was considerably larger. Admittedly, the dividing line was a bit vague and at the far end of the yard, I sometimes played hopscotch with the girls.
I was too young to notice, but photos from that era show that churches were similarly divided: women ran the kitchen; men ran everything else. Boys still had the bigger playground. My, how things have changed. Boys and girls now play together and they enter schools through the same door. Perhaps that's as good a metaphor for the sexual revolution as any. Men and women now enter universities and the job market through the same doors. The church has also changed. Women still run the kitchen, but now they run everything else, too. In my experience in pastoral ministry, women outnumber men on most church boards, councils and committees. After 2,000 years of men running the church, it's difficult to argue that women shouldn't have their -song: "Where have all the young men gone?" And the old ones? And the middle-aged ones? On a typical Sunday morning in our congregation, women outnumber men three to one -- and by United Church standards, that's a lot of men.
In the past 40 years, women have radically redefined themselves and their place in the world. It hasn't been easy, and in the process of making long-overdue gains, they have changed the landscape of gender relations. The old maps have had to be redrawn. Some men have adapted well to this new lay of the land. Others, lacking familiar landmarks, have lost their way. It used to be, when Sean Connery was the only James Bond, that a man knew what was expected of him. Suddenly, masculinity is an uncertain quality. The movie studios can't seem to settle on a new Bond, bouncing from glowering Timothy Dalton to pretty Pierce Brosnan to tragic Daniel Craig. In the same way, a whole generation of men have gone looking for themselves. But they are not looking in church. Somehow, spirituality has become a feminine attribute.
The out-migration of men coincides with the years that women began to assert themselves in church and society. Was the church such a boys' club that men couldn't bear to see it become co-ed? That seems an unlikely explanation, given that all-male service organizations have experienced a similar loss of membership over the same time frame. The male diaspora also corresponds to the rise of female ministers. Over the past five years, women comprised fully 70 percent of those entering ordered or lay ministries in the United Church. Many children encounter their first male teacher before their first male minister. Is it that men do not tolerate being preached to by women? An even more cynical view is that the loss of men matches the church's loss of relevance.
If church membership and committee work impress neither prospective employers nor the eligible young woman in the next office, then what's the point? Evangelical churches seem to fare better. Is it because they concentrate on young families? Because they provide the kind of hierarchical structure men are said to prefer? Or because, with a "wives, obey your husbands" theology, they offer a refuge where men can still pretend to retain their power of old? Questions are more plentiful than answers, but it seems certain that the reasons for men's absence in liberal churches are varied and complex.
Of course, it is not just the church that has seen a loss of men —
and men at a loss. A clear majority of Canadian university students are
now female, and with a higher drop-out rate for males, women are
earning three degrees for every two earned by men. In United Church
theological schools, where female students started increasing in
numbers in 1975, the ratio of graduates is even higher: two to one in
favour of women.
In pop culture, it sometimes seems like confident, capable male
characters exist only in beer commercials. Modern movie heroes run an
unwholesome gamut from Rocky Balboa to the goofballs in Dumb and
Dumber. Sitcoms present men as if they were overgrown puppies —
affectionate and enthusiastic, but dimwitted and easily brought to heel
by their ever-capable female counterparts. In a way, it’s a welcome
relief from the hapless housewife of just a few years ago, but in the
end, a constant diet of negative stereotyping can’t be good for anybody.
Men also fail to measure up on the home front. Certainly, the family
courts seem to think so. In divorces heard by Canadian courts, children
are given into their father’s care in only 10 percent of cases. While
joint care is on the rise, courts still award children to their mothers
half the time. A phrase being used about a growing number of today’s
young people is “under-fathered.”
It is a category I know well. Growing up in a middle-class 1950s
neighbourhood, I was the only kid I knew whose parents were divorced.
Lacking a significant male role model, I struggled as an adolescent and
young adult to discover how to carry myself in the world. In my search,
I tried on different roles as if they were stage costumes: joe rebel,
joe college, joe adventurer, joe provider, joe dad. None of the
costumes seemed to fit very well.
Sometime around age 30, I forgot about trying on personas and settled
for being who I was. In so doing, of course, I found what I had been
seeking and became a man almost in spite of myself. Not a manly enough
man for some, as it turns out. I am what Robert Bly in his
groundbreaking but flawed 1990 book Iron John dismissed as a “soft
man.”
Perhaps, though, real men don’t have to be hard as iron. As a
child, I read the classics and encountered heroes who fought, yes, but
who also wept and embraced and kissed and declared their love for each
other, who knew fear and joy and sorrow as well as the righteous anger
to which so many modern heroes are limited. I remember, for example,
weeping as I read how Little John held Robin Hood in his arms so he
could shoot one last arrow from a window, then buried him where it
fell. I still cry over books and at movies.
One might think that, having gone through a process of seeking
an elusive masculinity, I might be sympathetic to today’s lost boys and
men. In truth, I can barely restrain myself from shouting “Get over
it!” My experience has been not that men find wholeness in recovering
some lost masculinity, but just the opposite — that manhood is best
found by becoming a whole person.
Overall, I think it’s a wee bit early to start feeling sorry for
men. Yes, the glass ceiling is thinning faster than the polar ice caps,
but patriarchy runs deep, and men still earn more than women with the
same education, even in comparable jobs. If Ray Romano and Jim Belushi
play doofuses who try and fail to rule the roost, well, so did Danny
Thomas and Desi Arnaz in the 1950s. And surely nobody wants to return
to the strong, silent and emotionally cauterized movie heroes of the
past.
Nevertheless, the world has done some fancy stickhandling of
late, and many men have been deked out of their jockstraps. It’s time
we recovered our balance and got back in the game. In the words of Red
Green, “I’m a man, but I can change.” Indeed, we have to, and the
sooner we get started, the better.
Churches that feel the lack of men can start with the simple
recognition that men like to do stuff, either by themselves or with
small groups of other men. Sermons that move congregations to action,
church programs that call for things to be moved or loaded or built or
torn down, fundraising suppers that rely on outdoor cooking — all
appeal to men more than the usual kitchen-oriented events. It’s not
that most men don’t work in the kitchen — they do — but that church
kitchens belong to the United Church Women, and men would like to have
their own space.
Q&A with United Church Moderator Rt. Rev. David Giuliano
Q: How would you characterize your own upbringing as a male?
A: I was born into a family of fairly traditional gender roles. Over the years, I watched as my parents' relationship evolved, and my mom's sense of herself as a person and a woman changed. I was a very sensitive guy. As a boy, I probably cried more easily, was more sensitive to relationships than some of my male counterparts. That made it difficult for me at times, but I'm grateful for that now. I think boys and girls were both constrained to be a certain way in previous generations. A lot of that has changed in very good ways. I feel as though my generation was on the edge of that change. I heard a lot of things as a boy, and certainly going into high school, about equality between boys and girls, men and women. They were mostly ideas more than practices, but they were certainly in the lexicon at that point.
Q: Your father is a minister. As you grew up, how did you perceive the role of men in the church?
A: My sense was that men ran the place. The men I remember had authority and stature. They were in charge -- they were quiet, responsible and dignified figures. I remember when things began to shift, where there were concerted efforts to make sure there were women on the Official Board, in places of authority in the congregation. The idea that there might be a significant representation of women on a board was seen as cutting-edge.
Q: What was your early perception of women in the church?
A: I had the sense that they had a lot of informal authority. They had authority in places like the kitchen and the Sunday school. But as I talk, I realize now how oblivious I was to adults generally. Their concerns weren't our concerns. I knew they were busy having meetings, but I had no idea what they were about.
Q: Were you comfortable with the so-called feminization of the church as it gathered momentum in the 1970s and '80s?
A: My exposure to that began in the 1980s in theological college. But I wouldn't use the word "comfortable." I was quite uncomfortable, but at the same time I saw it as an issue of justice and fairness. The more I heard about it, the more I realized there was a need for me to honour the feminine part of who I am as a person. So I would say it created a necessary and positive discomfort in me. I am grateful that it was disruptive, that it caused me some discomfort in questioning some values I had and led me to examine other aspects of my life and the world.
Q: Has the feminization of the church evolved at the expense of male self-esteem?
A: I don't think we can point a finger at the feminization of the church, to the honouring of women and women's role in the church. I don't think you can knock someone down by building someone else up, any more than you build someone up by knocking someone down. I do think that we need to begin to apply to men the same question that we asked about women: What is it about masculine spirituality and men's way of doing things that can add to the wholeness of our community, that can include men more fully in our community?
Q: When did you first become aware of the changing attitudes toward men in the church?
A: I can remember raising this and being told that it has always been a way of equalizing the powerless and the powerful. The powerless can tell jokes about the powerful. But it wasn't entirely clear to me that men had all the power in the church anymore. I also remember talking to the executive staff of a Conference where they had seven or eight women on staff and one man. They were looking to hire a new staffperson and I asked whether we needed to think about some kind of affirmative action to increase the number of men in the office. Most people thought I was joking. If it had been an office with seven or eight men and one woman, clearly we would have been asking how we got to that point.
Q: Is the diminished role of men in the church a result of a culture than devalues men?
A: It's really hard to say categorically; it's complicated. While there still exists a certain hangover from patriarchy, there are also a lot of things that leave men feeling excluded and silenced and not valued. Think of all the Hollywood movies that portray men, especially fathers, as bumbling or stupid (single men are always strong). I don't know what happens when you get married -- you become completely incompetent and have to be saved by the family St. Bernard. My approach these days is to ask: If the gender in the situation were reversed, how would it feel?
Q: How intentionally have you and your spouse worked to bring gender-perception balance into the upbringing of your own son and daughter?
A: I'd say that our children have taught Pearl and I more about this than we have taught them. We were determined to raise them in gender-neutral ways, but both of them made it clear at a very early age that they were going to assert themselves in ways that were masculine and feminine. We learned from our kids that there are some things that are associated with gender. They're not black and white, they're not reliably predictable, but there are ways in which boys and girls do things differently and think about things differently. For children of the 1970s and '80s like us, that was shocking news. We grew up with the idea that all gender differences are just socialized.
Q: Are there some inherent male qualities that could be lifted up again or put to better use in the church?
A: I wouldn't call them inherent. I would say there are some characteristics that are associated with masculinity that can be celebrated in the church. I think we're at a time when some of those characteristics are really called for. We're trying to find our way, to figure out what the emerging community is going to look like. Very clearly the church as we knew it is figuratively and literally dying, and we need a sense of courage, of noble and strong leadership. There are times that require a strength of character that is willing to state a vision of where things are and where they might be going. I'm not saying men have those qualities and women don't, but I think there are aspects of masculine energy that have been portrayed exclusively as domineering, patriarchal, disrespectful. People who exercise courage and leadership have at times been portrayed as demagogues rather than people who may be able to offer a genuine vision that people can respond to.
Q: How does the church have to change if men are going to make a reappearance?
A: Above all, we shouldn't be so quick to judge. We need to celebrate the diversity of human beings. We need to practise curiosity, to wonder together: What would it be like if we were to value men? What would it be like if we were able to make a place for the way men do things? If we don't practise curiosity we're just going to get into entrenched battles that I don't think will be creative or productive.
Q: How have your remarks about men been received?
A: Men tend to be very grateful, very positive. Many of the women who have responded have been cautiously optimistic. They want good for the whole community too, but there's a caution -- rightly so -- about the expressions of men's spirituality in our culture right now; Promise Keepers, for example, makes them a little anxious. If I were a woman I'd be a little cautious too, but I think we are entering into a new and exciting time for men and our relationship with the holy.
