I’ve spoken with a number of friends who hold egalitarian convictions but find themselves in complementarian churches. Many of them are unsettled. They don’t want to be divisive, but they also don’t want to suppress their convictions about what Scripture teaches.
I understand the tension. If you’re convinced the Bible affirms women preaching and leading, what do you do when your church disagrees— especially if it limits women from holding the title of pastor or preaching from the pulpit?
Romans 14: A Way Forward
Let me suggest a better way forward— one that doesn’t require you to abandon your convictions but also doesn’t demand that you force change on the church. It’s a way shaped by the logic of Romans 14, where Paul addresses a situation that’s surprisingly relevant.
In Romans 14, the church wrestles with sharp disagreements about food laws and sacred days. One group believes it’s sinful to eat meat or ignore certain Jewish customs. The other understands that, in Christ, those things are no longer binding. Now, Paul isn’t vague about who’s right; he clearly thinks one side is stronger in faith and grasping gospel freedom better than the other.
But what’s striking is how he instructs the church to respond: welcome one another, stop passing judgment, and each be “fully convinced in your own mind” (Rom 14:1–5). He urges believers to live with each other charitably— even when one group is wrong.
That’s an important distinction: Paul believes some believers are mistaken— but not sinning. So, instead of demanding everyone be corrected immediately, he calls for patience, forbearance, and a refusal to let secondary disagreements fracture the body. His vision is one where people can be wrong and still be in faithful fellowship.
This framework is profoundly helpful for egalitarians in complementarian churches. Even if you believe your complementarian church’s stance is mistaken, you can still choose to remain— not out of fear, but out of love. You can stay, serve, and speak honestly, all while refusing to let this issue become a source of personal bitterness or communal division.
More Than Just Theory
This isn’t just theory. This is precisely how Paul lived. In 1 Corinthians 9, Paul lays out his apostolic rights— rights to support, to leadership authority, and more. But then he says something almost unthinkable: “I have not made use of any of these rights.” Why? Because he didn’t want to put any obstacle in the way of the gospel. Paul understood that just because you have a right to something doesn’t mean it’s always best to insist on it.
Or take Acts 21. Paul agrees to participate in a purification ritual at the Jerusalem temple. Why? It’s not because he thinks it’s necessary; rather, he wants to avoid causing offense to Jewish Christians who are still attached to the law. And earlier in Acts 16, Paul has Timothy circumcised—not because he believes it’s required, but because he wants Timothy to be able to minister effectively among Jews.
In both cases, Paul accommodates himself to others even when they are wrong, not because truth doesn’t matter, but because unity and mission do.
This kind of spiritual maturity—what we might call “convictional restraint”—is not weakness. It’s strength under control. It’s knowing that you’re free to act but choosing not to because love builds up and knowledge alone can puff up.
Faithful Presence in Practice
So here’s the encouragement I’d offer to egalitarians in complementarian churches: you don’t have to suppress your view, but you also don’t have to always assert it. You can choose to be a faithful presence— someone who gently advocates, who teaches when permitted, who models spiritual maturity, and who bears with the church in love, even as you long for change.
Remaining in a church like this doesn’t mean you agree with everything. It means you’re committed to the people. It means you’re willing to be patient because you trust that God is at work in His church, even when you disagree with its structures. Also, it means you’re confident enough in your convictions not to need constant affirmation.
Change rarely comes from those who walk away. It often comes through those who stay—who embody the vision they long to see, who build credibility over time, and who reflect the character of Christ in how they handle disagreement.
That’s why your presence matters. Not your silence, but your presence. You don’t have to be passive. But you also don’t have to be combative.
Romans 14 ends with a sobering reminder: “Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (14:23). If you can remain in a complementarian church in good faith— serving, hoping, and trusting the Lord with your desires, then you are honoring Christ. And if you can’t, then you may need to step away. Whatever you do, don’t let the pressure of others force your hand. Let it be an act of faith, not frustration.
You can believe the church is mistaken and still love it. You can wait without being complicit. You can teach, influence, and lead without holding a title. You can be misunderstood and yet still be faithful. That’s what Paul did. And more importantly, that’s what Christ did.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In