NeuroDivine

Re-reading St Paul and Honouring Women’s Ministry in the Anglican Tradition

In the hush of a Friday afternoon, with the Psalms still resonating from morning prayer and the Irish light softening the edges of the day, I return to St Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 2:11–12:

“Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be quiet.” — 1 Timothy 2:11–12 (NRSV)

Plain words, yes—but not unexamined ones. Not unchallenged. Not uncontextualised.

As an autistic Anglican with Benedictine leanings, I cherish clarity, structure, and sacred rhythm. But I also know that Scripture is not a flat surface—it is textured, layered, and alive. It speaks differently in different seasons, and it demands not just obedience but discernment.

St Paul says “I do not permit”—not “The Lord does not permit.” This is not a divine decree etched in fire; it is a pastoral instruction, shaped by time, place, and concern. Paul was writing to Timothy in Ephesus, a community navigating disorder and false teaching. His words are not timeless shackles but timely cautions. To read them as eternal prohibition is to mistake the scaffolding for the cathedral.

His Majesty the King, in nominating the Rt Rev and Rt Hon Dame Sarah Mullally DBE as Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, is not defying Scripture—it is reading it with the fullness of tradition, reason, and experience. It is honouring the Spirit’s movement in the lives of women called, gifted, and consecrated. It is listening not just to Paul, but to Phoebe (Romans 16:1), Junia (Romans 16:7), Priscilla (Acts 18:26), and Mary Magdalene (John 20:17)—the apostle to the apostles.

As an autistic Christian, I often find myself drawn to the edges—the overlooked, the misread, the misunderstood. I know what it is to be silenced by misinterpretation. But I also know the joy of being truly heard. Scripture, when read with care and community, can be a place of deep hearing. It can be a sanctuary for those whose voices were once hushed.

The Rule of St Benedict teaches us to listen “with the ear of the heart.” That listening is not passive—it is active, discerning, and tender. It asks us to weigh words, to seek their fruit, and to ask: does this build up the Body of Christ? Does this reflect the dignity of all whom God calls?

So yes, it is time to really read the Scriptures. Not just recite them. Not just wield them. But read them—with humility, with history, and with hope. For in doing so, we may find that the Spirit has been speaking through women all along. And perhaps, like Paul, we too will learn to say:

“Greet Andronicus and Junia, my relatives who were in prison with me; they are prominent among the apostles, and they were in Christ before I was.” — Romans 16:7 (NRSV)

A Prayer for Listening Anew

God of wisdom and welcome,
You speak through silence and song,
through prophets and apostles,
through women and men,
through those the world forgets.

Teach us to read your Word with humility,
to hear your Spirit in every voice you call,
and to honour the gifts you give
without fear, without favour.

May your Church be a place of deep listening,
where tradition and truth walk together,
and where all your children find space
to speak, serve, and shine.

Amen.