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The slow collapse of the Old Boys’ Club

Accountability for powerful men brings hope for equality in leadership.

My home church has two pastors – one man, one woman. They’re not a married couple but two ordained ministers with different gifts and passions. I appreciate how they work together on sermon series, coming at a theme from multiple angles. I’m happy that kids in Hope Fellowship Christian Reformed Church (CRC) are hearing God’s word in both dulcet bass tones and a lilting soprano. This is a positive change; I didn’t see a woman in a CRC pulpit until my 20s, and that first time was deeply moving in a way I hadn’t expected.

Though equality is still a long way off (think: salaries), today I am hopeful. I am hopeful because I think we are witnessing the long-overdue collapse of the Old Boys’ Club, in North America at least. Christian Boards and church councils are more likely than in the past to have a good mix of men and women involved. Both genders speak up at meetings. We’re more likely to see women in institutional leadership positions – school principals, university presidents. And men who abuse power in those positions aren’t as likely to get away with it as they might have been 20 years ago.

The unspoken but operative tenet of the Old Boys’ Club is, as I understand it, to put and keep men in positions of power. It refers to “who you know” impacting hiring decisions and to “don’t rock the boat” when a leader’s authority is questioned (and questionable). The phrase betrays itself: these are not godly men but “old boys” – men behaving like boys when they should know better. They’re drinking spiritual milk because they can’t handle meat, as the apostle Paul might have said. They’re immature yet protected from critique by the systems – the Club – that put them in power.

If humility is the road to love, its guardrail is accountability. 

In the 15 years I’ve been Editor of Christian Courier (CC), I’ve heard a lot of Old Boy stories. People will call me or come up after church. “There’s a pastor,” they’ll say. “He was counselling women without any kind of training and giving inappropriate advice. Can you look into that?”

The answer is usually no. CC is too small; we don’t have the resources for that kind of investigative journalism. But we have covered sexual misconduct in the church in a dozen other ways: interviews with survivors, art depicting spiritual trauma, Safe Church updates, court case summaries and congregational fallout. Underneath these stories are the same questions Paul recommends that Titus asks before appointing early church leaders in Crete: “Is this man well-thought-of? Is he committed to his wife? […] … not pushy, not short-tempered, not a drunk, not a bully, not money-hungry” (Titus 1:6-8, MSG). Our collective consciousness around abuse has grown as a result.

A year ago, I summarized some dangers of the Old Boys’ Club in an editorial called “The Problem with Powerful Men” (March 6, 2023). How many times are men in church leadership, I asked, cushioned from the consequences of their inappropriate actions by their status and charisma? “There has to be a way,” I said, “without gossiping, to stop giving powerful men a pass because ‘no one’s perfect.’”

In the past year, I have seen signs that the Club is slowly crumbling. Previously powerful men are flat-footed, empty-handed. Their free pass is gone. There’s more awareness that people in power need accountability, even the trendy ones who give talks on power and accountability. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, even the men preaching on that passage.

Feet of clay

Two Christian universities have recently sought transparency around the actions of their leaders.

Taking the long view on an issue like this gives a helpful perspective. (The Female Athlete Project).

Last fall, Professor John Stackhouse was let go from Crandall University for allegations of sexual misconduct, as we reported in February (“Protect the Right People” by Julie MacFarlane, Feb. 5). And in late February, Calvin University President Wiebe Boer resigned, after a report came out alleging he had “engaged in unwelcome and inappropriate communication and attention toward a non-student member of the campus community.” Boer denied some of the allegations – which, it’s important to note, did not include allegations of sexually explicit communications – but admitted to actions “inconsistent with the high standard of conduct and character expected of the president of Calvin University.”

I lament the people hurt by both sets of circumstances, the difficult decisions the Boards had to make, and the fallout within both communities. There’s no question that sweeping things under the rug would have been easier. And some people might wonder if the Calvin Board of Trustees overreacted. “Inappropriate communication? This isn’t assault or an affair.”

It is, however, a question of integrity. Of consequences, of accountability. Boer made the right choice by stepping down. Stackhouse, on the other hand, is fighting allegations with his own lawsuits. To add one more example – Bruxy Cavey has launched a new ministry online, even though he still faces criminal charges of sexual assault in a court case that keeps getting postponed. This is just a small sample of the wide range of reactions among men losing their cherished spots in the Old Boys Club – from “I’m sorry” to “I did nothing wrong” to “give me money; it’s so hard to find other work while I’m out on parole.” Old habits die hard.

And yet the fact that there are court cases at all gives me hope. Real world consequences, like Boer and Stackhouse experienced (years too late, in Stackhouse’s case, but still better than never), send a signal to our churches and Christian communities: you cannot engage in inappropriate behavior and remain in a position of authority. As tough and messy as it feels for all of us, that is a very good thing. It means, potentially, that bigger offenses were stopped before they could occur. And it means that the Old Boys’ Club is slowly losing its grip on the systems that put and keep people in power.

“This is what I know,” Catholic author Brian Doyle wrote. “Humility is the road to love.

“Humility, maybe, is love. That could be. I wouldn’t know; I’m a muddle and a conundrum shuffling slowly along the road, gaping in wonder, trying to see and say what is, trying to leave shreds and shards of ego along the road like wisps of litter and chaff.”

Leaders both male and female could learn from Doyle, who once penned a prayer making fun of his own large nose. He’s the antithesis of an Old Boy, in my opinion.

The Old Boys cling to every shred and shard of ego – using these, in fact, to build their Club.
Christ says, “Deny yourselves and follow me.” In other words, “Leave your Clubs behind. That kind of power is nothing more than wisps of litter and chaff.”

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