As the great Iain McGilchrist documents in his ponderous yet brilliant book The Master and His Emissary, we use the right side of our brain to perceive and experience. Religion is concerned with the transrational, meaning it embraces logic but also goes beyond it. Religion thrives in intuition, emotion, and experience.

The left brain, in the parlance of McGilchrist’s title, is the Emissary. It belongs to the realm of concept—those things that can be rationalised and categorised. The right brain, by contrast, belongs to percept: that which we enter into as sacred mystery. Left‑brained activities require black‑and‑white, binary thinking. We engage the left brain in the realm of machines and in any activity where the laws of physics are in motion. We are thankful for the left brain’s role in determining the laws of physics, whether a jet’s engine is big enough, for instance.

The problem arises, says McGilchrist, when we switch the roles of the Master (the right brain) and the Emissary (the left brain). When we try to approach mystery with logic, it leads to all sorts of chaos in our society, especially in religion. Humans are not machines. Churches are not machines.

Here is where I wish to make a connection between the brain’s hemispheres and leadership roles in the church. Too often, we elevate the Emissary—left‑brained thinking—in our vision of the ideal church leader. We exalt leaders who can verbally defend the faith, those who can articulate doctrinal traditions with precision. Yet doctrinal purity is subservient to the weightier matters of the right brain, such as mercy and care.

This is where my contention may become contentious. Despite our different understandings of the strengths of women and men, most societies and cultures have agreed that women, more often than men, are well suited for mercy and care. Does it not follow that women would make excellent pastors? This is not to say that no men exhibit pastoral qualities, or that all women do. It is only to say that women, by their very nature, are equally suited for pastoral leadership.

But (our left brain screams) doesn’t Scripture forbid women in church leadership? I have already written some of my thoughts about that and I invite you to read them. Here, I will simply make the plea that we stop using 1 Corinthians 14–“Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak.”–as a proof text. Something else must be going on in that chapter, because earlier both men and women are exhorted to share “a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation.” It would be difficult to do that while remaining silent. This explanation might be helpful in understanding the context.

Sadly, in many circles Christians still hold a strong taboo around women in pastoral roles. Similar to heinous crimes like cannibalism or human sacrifice, the topic is avoided—or, if it is addressed at all, spoken of only in hushed whispers. And I get it: change cannot happen overnight. Sometimes centuries, not days, are needed for societal change to take place.

Yet hasn’t this discussion already dragged on for centuries? Someone may express resistance to same‑sex marriage on the grounds that the church has only been talking about it since “five minutes ago.” Whether or not that is true of same‑sex marriage, the discussion on women in leadership is as old as the hills. It has existed as long as Scripture itself. Consider just one chapter—Romans 16. Phoebe was a deacon. Priscilla was a co‑worker with St. Paul. Junia was an apostle among apostles.

The church has not reached a consensus prohibiting women in leadership roles. If anything, a pattern of suppression of female leaders has developed. Julian of Norwich, possibly the first woman to write in English, wrote authoritatively and prolifically about the Christian faith, yet the church hid her writings and even actively blocked their publication. Likewise, Junia’s name in Romans 16 has at times been deliberately mistranslated as a man’s name. More recently, a woman who founded an Anabaptist Bible college was asked by the all‑male board to step aside as president to make way for a new president—male, of course. I do not know all the details. Perhaps the decision was legitimate and appropriate. But given the church’s past treatment of women, the optics are egregious.

Furthermore, we deceive ourselves if we say that no female members—half of the church—should hold any leadership roles whatsoever. The undeniable reality is that women already lead. Leadership has many components, including organisation, mentoring, teaching, and articulating a vision for the future. Even in congregations most intent on reserving leadership for men, women lead. Why not formalise those roles, and even ordain the women who are already exercising them?

A critical reader may say that I, as someone who has traded a more cautious church for a less cautious one, am overly chipper with my newfound liberty. They may be right. I will even go one step further and say that I am probably coming off like the ex‑Mennonite who cannot stop gushing about the benefits of ayahuasca in curing her anxiety and judgmentalism. Let us grant that. Still, is it not better to envision a full‑orbed Christian faith—one that offers life‑giving opportunities for all Christians, men and women alike, to grow and be transformed into the image of Jesus Christ—than to cling to a stultifying belief that is becoming increasingly difficult to defend? That which is no longer prohibited can now be accepted, embraced, and even celebrated.

Let me end on a note of charity. I agree with my more cautious brothers and sisters that men and women are profoundly different. We are all better served by acknowledging and celebrating that reality. In homes and churches, at work and at school, men’s and women’s roles will—and should—look different.

But this should not keep us from experimenting with new roles for either sex. Let each congregation be guided by this question: how are both our men and our women being stretched so that more of God’s glory may flow through them? If a man has a calling and ability to deliver sermons, let him do so. If a woman has a calling and ability to bring in the flowers for the sanctuary, let her do so. But equally, if the Spirit wishes to reverse the roles, we should never allow our left brain to hinder God’s work.