No Monks, More Misogyny

A pulp-style vintage magazine cover titled “The Case of the Missing Monks,” featuring a grinning evangelical megachurch pastor on stage, women silenced in the background, and empty monk robes on the floor. — Image created with DALL·E

How Evangelicalism’s Hollow Spirituality Bred Patriarchy

Other Christian traditions gave the world monasteries—places of prayer, silence, and contemplation. Evangelicals gave us megachurches, worship albums, and celebrity pastors. That difference isn’t just stylistic. It’s foundational. By rejecting the monastic impulse, evangelicalism hollowed out its spirituality, stripped it of depth, and replaced mystery with marketing.

And when you hollow something out, something else always rushes in to fill the vacuum. For evangelicals, that vacuum was filled by patriarchy. Without monks, we got complementarianism. Without contemplation, we got culture wars. And without depth, misogyny became the scaffolding to hold the whole movement upright.

Contemplation Was Exiled, Power Stayed Put

Monastic traditions thrive on silence. They pray the hours. They meditate on Scripture. They wrestle with the uncomfortable questions about themselves and the structures they inhabit. Evangelicals, on the other hand, crank up the amps, launch another sermon series, and book a few more conferences.

Silence is threatening in evangelical spaces because silence breeds questions. Questions like: Why are all the pastors men? Why do women’s voices vanish when it comes to decision-making? Evangelicalism exiled contemplation so power could stay where it always was—firmly in the hands of men.

Shallow Faith, Shallow Gender Roles

Monastic practices force depth: lectio divina, hours of prayer, confronting your own ego until you run out of excuses. Evangelical spirituality swapped that for the “quiet time,” which usually means a rushed Bible verse with your morning coffee and maybe a prayer for a good parking spot.

That thin spirituality inevitably produced thin gender roles: men lead, women submit. Neat. Tidy. Shallow. A spirituality without depth doesn’t just ignore misogyny; it sanctifies it.

Activism Without Depth = Policing Women

Evangelicals are busy people. Missions, evangelism, church growth campaigns, purity pledges—the list goes on. It’s all action, all noise, all the time. But without a contemplative core, all that activism turns reactive. It needs an outlet, and women’s bodies and roles become the easiest target.

No women pastors. No women preaching. No reproductive rights. No autonomy. Evangelical activism, stripped of depth, inevitably becomes about control. When you don’t know how to be silent, you learn to shout—and in evangelicalism, that shouting is often directed at women.

Individualism Protects Patriarchy

Monastic life is communal. You can’t hide your flaws or your failings when you’re living shoulder to shoulder with others. Evangelicalism built itself on the idea of a “personal relationship with Jesus,” which sounds nice on paper but functions like a get-out-of-accountability-free card.

That hyper-individualism has a convenient side effect: it shields male leaders from real scrutiny. They can claim divine authority, reinterpret Jesus however they like, and build entire fiefdoms in their own image. Patriarchy thrives when the “personal” becomes untouchable.

Mystery Got Replaced by Control

Monastic traditions embrace mystery—tension, paradox, the humility of admitting what you don’t know. Evangelicals can’t stomach that. They need certainty. They need authority. They need control.

And that obsession with control hardwired misogyny into evangelical theology. Enter complementarianism, the doctrine that keeps women in their place because “the Bible is clear.” Mystery would leave room for women’s experiences and voices. Control shuts that door and deadbolts it.

Hollow Faith, Hardwired Misogyny

Evangelicalism didn’t just miss out on monasticism—it actively rejected the practices that lead to humility, depth, and self-discovery. What filled the void wasn’t wisdom but hierarchy. Not mystery, but control. Not monks, but misogyny dressed up as biblical fidelity.

Other traditions gave us monks who prayed, reflected, and confronted their own shadows. Evangelicals gave us patriarchs who preach, control, and demand obedience. And the fruit of that choice is obvious: a faith obsessed with power, allergic to mystery, and terrified of women who dare to lead.