PERSPECTIVES
climbing a mountain with her now husband; the day she
got into “multiple bike wrecks” on her way to school. She
got winded running down the hallway the other day. She
confesses that once, when she was pitching at a charity
softball game, she wound up “nailing the girl in the back.”
“If you [can be] just a little more honest about your situa-
tion, a little more open with your sisterhood,” Wilkerson
says, “then strength will come into your broken situation
and He will fix your broken heart...and yes you will be
found in the new!” She ends with a spot-on rendition of
Mariah Carey’s “Heartbreaker,” including the Jay-Z rap.
These moments of realness are a highlight for Katie, a
25-year-old former dancer who traveled from Minnesota
for the conference. “Everyone on the stage was super-
authentic to who they were,” she tells me later. “They
weren’t trying to be someone they were not.” Houston’s
final remarks, in particular, stick with her. “It was the
closing of this huge conference—thousands of women are
there—and I remember Pastor Bobbie was like, ‘I don’t
know what to do now.’ She literally said that in front of
thousands of people: ‘I don’t know what to do.’”
No matter how imperfect the Hillsong woman may
cop to being, it is taken for granted that she will eventu-
ally be married. To a man. During Colour, Lentz—who
recently applauded his own wife on Instagram for
“never choosing our kids over our marriage”—advises
the audience: “If you’re single, like we say every year at
this time, you hang on to Jesus.”
There’s something unfeminist about this “Jesus
is my boyfriend” talk. As Maddox has written, “Men
identify as co-leaders in the image of a passionate [male]
God,” while women are taught to aspire to be “a male
God’s desired ‘sweetheart.’” Worse, it assumes that
the right kind of love is between a woman and a man.
Hillsong maintains that it is not “anti-anyone,” but its
enthusiasm for heterosexual marriage is to the pointed
exclusion of any other kind of romantic partnership.
According to Nicole, the future set designer, the idea
that Jesus is your boyfriend has less to do with gender
roles and more to do with faith itself. “It’s difficult to
explain,” she says. “I just imagine He is right here beside
me. Like, literally, beside me, supporting me and loving
me through everything.”
Before Nicole started going to Hillsong, she was
dating someone she probably shouldn’t have been.
After joining Hillsong, she says, “I was like, ‘What am
I doing? This is not how I want my relationships to
work.’” Which is not to say she now sits at home, wait-
ing for her future husband. Nicole goes out, has party
weekends with her girlfriends, and owns a closetful of
crop tops and T-shirt dresses. She can see how other
women might find casual hookups empowering, but
personally, she’s “not the biggest fan.” “Even if you don’t
think it’s a big deal [to sleep with someone], you see that
person walking down the street, and you’re like, ‘Oh
my God,’ because your soul still feels something,” she
says. “That pain is not empowering.” Recently, a guy ap-
proached Nicole at the mall and asked for her number.
In response, she asked if he believed in God. “Because if
the answer is not an immediate and resounding I’m-so-
excited ‘yes,’ honestly, I’m going to say no,” she says. “I’m
just cutting to the chase.”
Centering God in relationships can be clarifying, according to Kinsey. Living in
L.A., she says, it’s easy to get caught up in wanting attention and comparing yourself to
other girls. “Hillsong keeps me grounded in God, knowing that He should be the center
of all social situations and dating life,” she says. “It’s not about you. It’s not about the
other person. You do everything for God.” The women I meet at Hillsong are looking
for equitable but essentially traditional romantic relationships. (And so are a lot of my
secular feminist friends.) “I think the guy should lead the family,” Nicole says, “but it
also has to be a partnership. Even if he’s the one making the decisions, it has to be based
on what you both want, not just what he wants. If it was the girl leading the family, it
would be the same thing.” Personally, Nicole believes in gay marriage. “I have so many
friends that I can’t imagine them not together. God made everyone, and I just can’t
imagine God not loving them and not wanting them to be happy.”
Hillsong’s anti–gay marriage and anti-abortion stances seem at odds with the fe-
male empowerment message of Colour, but the young women I spoke with hold more
nuanced views. Frazier told me she wouldn’t get an abortion herself, but she wouldn’t
ban them for other women. At Colour, the politics of Hillsong seem far from attendees’
minds, or else part of a compromise they learned to make a long time ago, to be part of a
group without unanimously supporting it. There is a chance, after all, that these women
will stay involved, know their worth, and assume leadership, to the point that one day
their nuanced views could become church doctrine. Kate Wallace Nunneley, a pastor
whose Junia Project advocates for the inclusion of women in Christian leadership, says
Christian women across denominations are “pushing back, asking questions, and the
result is a move toward greater gender equality,” she says.
Back at the Kings Theatre, Houston has one more surprise for the women in the
audience: a shower cap. A group of dancers appears in shower-themed ensembles, and
little girls dressed as rubber duckies storm the stage. There is some half-baked sym-
bolism here, about washing ourselves of superficial judgment and historical baggage
so we may be found, fresh and clean, “in the new.” But the messaging is fuzzy. “Maybe
there isn’t a deeper meaning,” Katie tells me. “Maybe it’s just, ‘Hey, to go along with
this soap, here’s a shower cap.’”
As Colour comes to a close, Taya Smith Gaukrodger, a singer in Hillsong United (one
of the church’s three bands), takes the stage, wearing skinny jeans and an oversize blaz-
er, her short platinum hair tucked behind her ears. As she sings the pop hymn “Clean,”
her voice resounds through the theater, powerful and heartbreaking. Thousands of
women sway together and embrace. Many of them are crying, still wearing their shower
caps, each one a different color. The kaleidoscopic effect of the shower caps swaying is
kind of ridiculous but also deeply moving. Or maybe you have to be there. If I weren’t,
it occurs to me, I would probably be in a bar around the corner, drinking an overpriced
cocktail, staring at my phone, and jumping out of my skin if anyone tried to talk to me.
Here, seeing me alone, the woman next to me puts her hand around my shoulder.
BOBBIE HOUSTON, HILLSONG COFOUNDER AND CO–GLOBAL SENIOR PASTOR,
SAYS GOD TOLD HER TO CREATE A CONFERENCE FOR CHRISTIAN WOMEN.
HOUSTON: FAIRFAX MEDIA/GETTY IMAGES.
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