Is male headship in marriage a dangerous idea?

A lot of people believe that the doctrine of male headship & authority in the home is a dangerous idea that inevitably leads to the oppression of women. Are they right?

The answer is not straightforward.

In her book, The Toxic War on Masculinity, Nancy Pearcey describes two contrasting pieces of evidence on this subject from a US context. On the one hand, she shows that,

Compared to secular men, devout Christian family men who attend church regularly are more loving husbands and more engaged fathers. They have the lowest rates of divorce. And astonishingly, they have the lowest rates of domestic violence of any major group in America. (p.15)

In other words, on average, devout Christian men are better husbands than secular men. She then goes on to show an astonishing contrast:

Surprisingly, research has found that nominal Christian men have the highest rates of divorce and domestic violence – even higher than secular men. (p.15)

Here, ‘nominal’ means a person who identifies as Christian because of their background, but rarely goes to church. The research about such men is tragic and woeful:

They spend less time with their children, either in discipline or in shared activities. Their wives report significantly lower levels of happiness. And their marriages are far less stable. (p.37)

If devout men make the best husbands, then nominal Christian men make the worst. How can we explain that? 

When a man is truly surrendered to Jesus, then he understands his role as head of the home in a radically Christ-centred way. Having authority is in itself neither a good nor bad thing, neither safe nor dangerous in itself. The issue is what you do with that authority. And when a godly man understands his position of responsibility, and then interprets that authority by looking at the example of Jesus, then he seeks to follow that example in the power of the Spirit by laying down his life for his wife and children.

But when a man cherry-picks his theology by embracing male headship, but denying the demands of Christ to die to himself and live a life of surrender, then he becomes dangerous. He’s like a toddler playing with a weapon: He has power but no clue how to use it. In his selfishness and self-centred desires, he ends up abusing his authority and harming those nearest to him. He becomes a brute and a bully, grunting about his God-given rights and privileges, wielding his superior strength and stature to harmful ends, and wreaking destruction in his wake. He reads his Bible ‘through a grid of male superiority and entitlement’ and then manipulates its teaching ‘to justify [his] abusive behaviour’ (p.37).

And this is, in the microcosm of the family, the story of the world. It’s the story of divine power, might, and authority invested in humanity as the pinnacle of creation. Then of that power wielded to the oppression of one another and of the earth itself. But finally, it's the story of that calling to rule being redeemed in Christ Jesus, the selfless husband of his people, and gracious Lord of his creation. Maranatha! Our Lord, come!

This first appeared as an article for Grace London.