Canaries, Slippery Slopes, a Gendered Christ, and Women in Ministry

The phrase “canary in the coal mine” comes from the historical practice of using canaries as sentinels—an early warning system for miners who may be unknowingly exposed to toxic gases.

Today, the phrase refers to an early warning sign that something is wrong. In the Presbyterian Church in America, such a warning is before us.

Overtures 36 and 37, submitted to the 2026 General Assembly, address the question of the ordination of women to the diaconate. For many, the issue is not simply what these overtures do, but where this question has historically led and the underlying theological assumptions that have prompted these overtures in the first place.

This article is not meant to explore the exegetical merits of a complementarian position on ordination to the diaconate. Instead, I will argue that the debate over women in the diaconate pivots on a deeper theological issue: that the offices of the church symbolically reflect Christ in a way that makes sex significant to ordained office—and history suggests how that issue is typically resolved.

The Pattern We Should Notice

The present discussion of women serving in church offices follows a well-worn path in American Reformed and Presbyterian history.

In the PCUSA, women were first permitted to serve as deacons in 1922, then ruling elders by 1930, and teaching elders by 1956. The PCUS, CRC, and RCA followed a similar trajectory. Though the timelines varied, a similar pattern emerged across these denominations.

First, a period of inquiry and discussion; second, the opening of the diaconate; third, the inclusion of women as elders; and finally, the ordination of women as ministers.

This pattern now confronts the PCA. We have been in a prolonged period of inquiry since the 2009 Keller-Duncan exchange regarding the distinction between ordination and commissioning. This stage continued with the 2017 Ad Interim Committee report on women serving in the ministry of the church, which broadened the category of ministry to include a wide range of roles under the authority of the local session.

In addition, the increasingly common practice of listing women as deaconesses on church websites reflects a similar movement. Given this trajectory, it is not surprising that overtures to consider the ordination of women to the diaconate or to grant sessions flexibility on the matter are before us.

The question, then, is whether we recognize that we are on a well-worn path and if we know where this path has historically led.

A Common Objection

At this point, a common objection arises: isn’t this a slippery slope argument?

In one sense, yes. The slippery slope fallacy claims that a small step will inevitably lead to an undesirable consequence. And strictly speaking, there is no logical necessity that opening the diaconate to women must lead to women serving as elders or pastors.

But my argument is not primarily logical. It is simply an observation of a historical trend.

Historically, inquiry into women serving in the diaconate has led, nearly without fail, to the ordination of women as elders and ministers. And while there are exceptions, such as the ARP, RPCNA, and ERQ, these outliers are small when compared to the PCUSA, RCA, and CRC. In fact, it can be persuasively argued that these exceptions actually prove the rule.

Thus, the historical data does not prove inevitability. But it does raise questions: what, in our case, would stop the progression? What limiting principle would prevent the movement from extending beyond the diaconate to the offices of elder and teaching elder?

More Than a Historical Question

As important as that historical question is, my primary concern lies elsewhere. I believe we are  further along this path than we realize—not because of overtures, but because of underlying theological assumptions about the nature of ordained ministry and sex.

Two shifts typically coincide with the inquiry stage.

First, ordained ministry is reduced to a mere function—a question of who can perform the work effectively.

Second, biological sex is treated as incidental to that function, often justified by the fact that unordained women already perform many similar tasks as ordained officers.

Once these assumptions of functionalism and gender-neutrality are granted, the debate shifts inevitably toward pragmatism: if women can do the work, and in some cases, do it better or more effectively, then on what grounds should ordination be withheld?

A Deeper Issue: A Gendered Christ

Here, the insight of C.S. Lewis is especially helpful. In his 1948 essay Priestesses in the Church, Lewis addressed the question of women’s ordination within the Church of England. He acknowledged that many arguments for women’s ordination are, in his words, “very sensible.” In fact, Lewis writes, “in a way they are too sensible… that is where my dissent from them begins.”

Lewis recognizes the force of these arguments. There is a shortage of able ministers. Women are capable of doing the work. It is often wise and appropriate for women to minister to other women. These are all considerations that appear not only reasonable but prudent.

Lewis, however, contends that this reasoning moves in the wrong direction. While we may argue that a godly woman reflects the character of God through her teaching and ministry, Lewis reverses the inquiry: Can God be represented as a woman?

Within the Anglican tradition, the priest acts in persona Christi—in the person of Christ. Lewis argues that the priest serves not as a representative of the congregation, but as a representative of Christ Himself. Because Christ is male, this representation is more than merely functional; it is profoundly symbolic.

Now, Presbyterians do not use the language of in persona Christi. However, the underlying theological instinct is not foreign to us. The preface to the Book of Church Order states:

Jesus, the Mediator, the sole Priest, Prophet, King, Savior, and Head of the Church, contains in Himself, by way of eminency, all the offices in His Church, and has many of their names attributed to Him in the Scriptures. He is Apostle, Teacher, Pastor, Minister, Bishop, and the only Lawgiver in Zion.

Likewise, within the broader Reformed tradition, it has often been said that the offices of elder and deacon are like the two arms of Christ, extending His ministry to His people—one governing and shepherding, the other serving and caring. In this way, it is vitally important that we recognize Christ as the true and better Deacon and Servant who embodies sympathy and service in his person. Paul even refers to Jesus as thediakonon to his people in Romans 15.8. Both offices, therefore, in different ways, participate in and reflect the person and work of Christ himself.

That raises an unavoidable question: if the offices of the church are not merely functional, but share in and reflect the person and ministry of Christ—then what exactly are they representing?

Lewis presses this further. “If the priest is a representative,” he writes, “we must ask a representative of what?” His answer is clear: the priest represents Christ. And if that is so, then the question cannot be reduced to what can be done, but must also include what is being signified.

Others object by noting that God is not a biological being and has no sex. Why, then, should it matter whether office bearers are male or female?

Lewis responds:

Christians think that God Himself has taught us how to speak of Him. To say that it does not matter whether God is represented as masculine or feminine is to say either that all the masculine imagery is not inspired, or else that, though inspired, it is quite arbitrary and unessential. And this is surely intolerable.”

He goes on to argue that this is not merely a question of language, but of reality:

We know from our poetical experience that image and apprehension cleave closer together than common sense is here prepared to admit… a child who has been taught to pray to ‘Our Mother which art in heaven’ would have a religious life radically different from that of a Christian child.

And finally, Lewis draws out the implication:

To say that men and women are equally eligible for a certain profession is to say that for the purpose of that profession their sex is irrelevant. We are, within that context, treating both as neuters.

Like Lewis, we in the PCA must recognize that diaconal ministry is not merely a function, but a reflection of the person and ministry of Christ himself. And because that is the case, the issue before the PCA is not simply who can perform certain tasks. It is whether the church’s offices are meant to reflect something about the nature of Christ himself.

Why This Matters Now

This is why the language of a “canary in the coal mine” is appropriate. The presenting issue may be the diaconate. But the deeper issue is whether our understanding of ministry has been quietly reshaped.

If ministry is primarily about function, and if sex is largely incidental, then the path forward is relatively clear—and as Lewis would say, “in a way…too sensible.” But if ministry is also symbolic—if it reflects Christ in ways that are not interchangeable—then the question becomes far more complex.

The concern, then, is not merely that we are having this conversation. It is that we may already be operating with assumptions that make the outcome of the conversation far more predictable than we realize.

Like the canary in the coal mine, early warnings are easy to dismiss. But they are given for a reason.

Picture: By 3268zauber – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6063033