Category Archives: Body of CHRIST
All You Need Is Love
In the evangelical Christian worldview, we like to have the answers for everything. We like neatness and order. We like clarity. We like black and white truths. We like boundaries. We like to know what is okay and what is not okay, what is allowed and what is not allowed, who is in and who is out.
Bonhoeffer on Community
I’ve written before about Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s expression of intentional Christian community (see here and here). Bonhoeffer described the number one characteristic of Christian community as Jesus as mediator. When we communicate and interact through Jesus, when we view our brothers and sisters through Jesus, we cannot help but act and react, share and respond out of love. When we know our brothers and sisters view us the same way, we cannot help but trust that their actions and communication are out of love as well.
Bonhoeffer also stressed the importance of confessing our sins to one another and forgiving each other as Christ forgives all of us. One of my favorite lines in Life Together is when Bonhoeffer notes that it is difficult to interact with members of our community with anything but love and trust when we hear the confessions of our brothers and sisters and grant them absolution, praying together with them for the forgiveness and blessing of Christ.
The Life of Love
In the Critical Journey, the authors call Stage 6 the Life of Love. (Here’s a great chart reviewing all the stages.) When we reach this stage in our journey, we live, serve, and speak out of our healing, out of the love we have experienced in our encounters with God.
We let go of the questions, the boundaries, the concerns over who’s in and who’s out, who’s right and who’s wrong, and we just love on people. We love people as Christ loved because our agenda is gone. Our wall has been dismantled, and we no longer live in our pain and react out of fear and anger.
It’s no longer of principle concern whether we are warning people about hell or condemning their actions and words. It’s no longer our concern whether people know and love Jesus as we know and love Jesus. Only God knows a person’s heart, and we are not designed to fill in for God in matters of the heart. We are designed to be God’s hands and feet in the world, the body of Christ among the people of God—all of them.
When we reach Stage 6, we no longer worry so much about the doubts and questions of Stage 4. They may still be there, unresolved, unanswered, but they are no longer driving our thoughts and actions. They are no longer overwhelming us. They are rather a reminder that we do not have all the answers, that we do not have it all figured out, and that’s okay. The one thing we are sure of when we reach Stage 6 is what our experience of God is like, that we want to continue moving toward God along with our brothers and sisters, and that we cannot help but share our hope with one another.
Paul’s Theology
Paul’s well-known 1Cor 13 passage is the epitome of the Life of Love. No matter what wonderful things we have accomplished, what honest and intentional lives we lead, if we are still living in Stage 3 where our words and actions are coming out of our duty and our pain and woundedness are still skewing our efforts to serve God, then we are nothing more than a whole lot of loud and ineffectual noise.
I love what Paul says later on in the chapter about growing up in Christ. When we are children, we behave like children, which is right and appropriate for our natural development. Being a child is good—while you are young.
But there comes a time when our natural human development moves us into that wonderful world of responsibility, wisdom, and work called adulthood, and it is in this stage of life that it is no longer right and appropriate to behave like children. Now it is time to grow up, get a job, move into your own apartment, pay taxes and bills, maybe join with another adult and start a new family.
This is natural and right. This is good. Behaving like child is good while you are a child, but behaving like an adult when you have grown up is just as good.
Just as we should not retain our childish interests and behaviors when we are grown, so we should not remain in our childhood or adolescent state of spiritual development. This is another area where the lack of a holistic body theology is evident. We too easily remain unaware of the necessity of spiritual growth along with physical growth. As our bodies grow and change, so should our spiritual lives.
There’s a reason Paul uses the metaphor of a physical human body so often in his letters. The wellbeing of our physical and spiritual selves are intimately related. Thus, they should both be growing. We should pursue spiritual health and growth just as fervently as we pursue physical health and growth.
Too easily we are satisfied with life in Stage 3. We think if we can get people to grow up enough to start giving back, then that’s enough. We’ve arrived!
Never mind people are giving back out of their woundedness. Never mind people are giving back out of their fear and lack of understanding. Never mind people are following blindly after others who are giving out of the same woundedness, fear, and lack of understanding.
It’s no wonder so many Christians leave the Church when they reach Stage 4. In Stage 3 churches, there is no room for questioning and doubting. There is no room for messy, for in-between, for grey.
It’s no wonder so many people view Christians as intolerant, rigid, ignorant, and hateful. Stage 3 is a wonderful and necessary part of the Christian journey, but when we get stuck there, when we fool ourselves into believing we’ve “arrived,” then we become intolerant, rigid, ignorant and hateful. We become everything we say we are against.
We become Pharisees.
But God has called us to more than this. The Christian life is not about the conversion experience. It’s not about the active Christian life.
It’s about the Life of Love. It’s about love—dirty, messy, sacrificial, costly love. It’s about love that humbles itself to take the form of a human being. It’s about love that humbles itself to become obedient to death by the most violent and painful method of execution ever designed. It’s about love that follows after Jesus not because it’s what is acceptable or required but because the call to “come follow me” is irresistible and renewed each day.
Much-Afraid Becomes Grace and Glory
The allegory Hinds Feet on High Places ends with Much-Afraid’s arrival at the Mountain of Spices. She is healed, transformed, and receives her new name, Grace and Glory.
But that’s not the end of the story.
In the sequel Mountain of Spices, Grace and Glory makes her way back down from the Good Shepherd’s home, back down into the Valley of Death where her family lives. She faces the cousins who tortured and taunted her, and she responds to them with love. Her love confuses them! Her transformation inspires the journey of others in the Valley.
What Much-Afraid, Bonhoeffer, and Paul all have in common with the Critical Journey is Stage 6, the Life of Love. It is when we are living and acting out of our healing that we are truly interacting with each other through Jesus as mediator. When we are living the Life of Love, we can confess our sins to one another and forgive each other.
When we live the Life of Love, being in community is a joy. It may not be easy, and it may not be comfortable. It may not even be “acceptable.” It certainly won’t be ideal.
But it will be real. It will be genuine. It will be full of love that casts out all fear, in which we are rooted and grounded, in whom we live and move and have our being, out of whom we speak and act and are the body of Christ.
Having a holistic body theology is great, but it is nothing without love to drive us toward something fruitful, beautiful, honest, holy—without love to drive us toward God, always toward God.
May love be the foundation of our communities, lovely readers. Let us be the beloved Bride of Christ, the Church active in the world and actively loving the world, our body theology lived out among the people of God.
Forward Friday: Speak
This weekend, take some time to honor and acknowledge the women in your faith community for their leadership and ministry gifts and abilities. Here are some ideas to help get you started:
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write a thank you note
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write a letter
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give a $5 gift card
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take her out to lunch
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recognize her publicly
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offer an opportunity to lead in a new area
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mention her in the comment section below and send her the link
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mention her on your own blog and share the link in the comment section
Whatever you say or do, be genuine and specific.
If you are a woman in leadership, know that what you bring to the table is unique and valuable. Your voice matters. Keep speaking!
Choosing Church: A Lament (Part 3)
Church-Hunting
My husband and I spent several months looking for a church when we moved to a new area. You can read a little about our experiences here and here. We finally decided that we were not going to find The Perfect Church and that we needed to just pick one and make an effort to be part of the community of God.
The church we chose had some very positive traits. Some of the important elements we were were looking for in a church were present, and we were hopeful that we might be able to plug into the community and begin to make friends. It wasn’t the best fit, but we hoped it might be good enough at least for this season.
Fight or Flight
Now, after about three months of intentional effort to get to know people and become involved, it is clear that this church is not a good fit. These are kind, welcoming people. They are genuine and earnest in their pursuit of God and of community with each other. Because of these traits, their lack of support for women in ministry was an issue we thought we could overlook, but I have realized I do not feel safe here.
I will never feel safe here. I cannot share myself with these people because they will not understand or accept me. They will never be able to support and encourage me to live fully into my gifts and calling because their worldview does not allow it.
Since I moved to California, every time I have begun to participate in a community, I have found myself in leadership positions. Sometimes they were vacant, and I just happened to fill them. Sometimes positions were created to fit gifts and skills that were emerging and being recognized in me. Sometimes leadership opportunities were ill-timed or even unwelcome as I was struggling with accepting who I am and who God has called me to be.
I’ve spent so much time learning to spread my wings and trust them to keep me in flight that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have them clipped. Now that I have experienced freedom and have begun to live into my gifts and calling, I can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t go back to being satisfied with being in the background, watching and listening as the men lead, accepting their leadership without question, following well.
I can’t go back to being silent.
And I can’t watch these brilliant, gifted women assume the fullness of their roles in the kingdom of God is only available in the room where there are no men present. It’s too painful. It makes me angry.
Where is the freedom of Christ here? Where is the blood of Christ that covers us all? Why are we standing so far apart on our respective hills, the theological ones we’re willing to die on, when we should be kneeling together at the foot of the cross where we are all on common ground?
At the heart of body theology is the incarnation of Christ. Christ lived and died and rose again in the actual, fleshly sense. Through Christ we have been redeemed: body, mind, and spirit. We are made new. There is no longer race, class, or gender to divide us. All are one in Christ Jesus.
How can we regain our connection with the ideal, the beginning, the first bloom of the coming together of the community of God?
The first step is to recognize our strength and that our strength is far greater than that of the leash that ties us to satisfaction with complacency.
The Lament
If we can’t be silent and we can’t speak, where does that leave us?
I feel dishonest, sitting in a folding chair on community night while these earnest people open up their lives to each other, knowing I am not being vulnerable in return, knowing they would not know how to respond if I were, knowing there is no room for me here.
I want so much to join them. I want so much to leave.
I feel like the sluggard who buried his talent in the sand rather than using it to his advantage. Here I am with a seminary degree, a woman with all this knowledge and training and no where to put it to use. Here I am, sitting in that chair, keeping my mouth shut, unwilling to rock the boat, unable to move at all.
How can they be satisfied with so little? How can I expect so much?
I feel like a freak for not being satisfied among these people, these brothers and sisters, these members of the body of Christ. Their complacency wounds me, and I can’t even begin to explain it to them. I am already too defeated to try.
There is no room for me here. This space is too small and cramped. I can’t even squeeze in as it is. How can I grow?
I can’t stay here. But there is nowhere to go.
Choosing Church: A Lament (Part 2)
There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:28
Galatians 3:28 reminds us that we are joined by the Holy Spirit beyond race, class, or gender. How can churches preach “all are one in Christ Jesus” while discouraging strong women leaders like my friend Amy, the EPC candidate?
How can we be unified as
one body,
the body of Christ,
when we discriminate against each other based on the particular body God has given each of us?
The Choice
When we disagree with the status quo, we have a choice to make. We can let go of the disagreement, stay in the current situation, and suffer alone. We can stay and fight alone until we win or are removed. Or we can leave and either join another community already in agreement or start something new.
How do we make that choice? How do we decide when to suffer, when to fight, and when to leave?
Do not suffer in silence.
Take, for example, another couple in ministry in a community that is not supportive of women. Let’s call them John and Jenny. John has the visible leadership role, though Jenny has the clearly stronger leadership traits. John and Jenny have a pretty egalitarian marriage, all things considered, providing Jenny with the space and opportunities to grow into her leadership gifts more fully. Yet, like the elephant on a leash, she has been conditioned to subordinate herself to his leadership in the community.
With people like Jenny, I am too impatient. It kills me to see potential being wasted, to see Jenny silencing herself for the sake of not making her husband look bad, or for not drawing attention to gifts and skills she is not “allowed” to have. I want to rush her into freedom she doesn’t feel the need to seek. It’s too painful to wait and watch and hope.
Brothers and sisters, do not let your voices be silenced. Whether you are called to lean into your current situation and slowly affect change from within, or whether you are called to let go and move on to a place where you can experience safety and freedom–do not stay and suffer in silence. Do not allow the fear and ignorance of others to silence your prophetic voice.
You have something to say.
You are unique and valuable.
You are the catalyst for change.
And you are not alone. There have been many men and women before you who have advocated for women in ministry and leadership. There are many more around you now.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Hebrews 12:1-3
Fix your eyes on the pioneer and perfecter of faith. Go or stay, my dear siblings in Christ, only do not be silent. Speak.
What Community Means
So, how do we decide when to lean in and when to let go? The truth is, there is no perfect system, no one right answer. Every situation is different, and everyone is called differently. Ask God to reveal to you what your role is in your community.
Are you a catalyst for change? Are you in a toxic environment? Is your voice being heard? Are you an advocate for those without a voice? Is there room for you to grow?
For those of you who can stay and work for change, I admire and commend your patience and forebearance, your long-suffering and perseverance. I wish I could be more like you.
For me, being in community means being in a safe place. It means being accepted and valued. It means having the freedom to live fully into my gifts and calling. It means being able to listen to a sermon or pastoral prayer without getting angry. It means not having to be on the defensive constantly. It means being able to be fully myself. It means being able to disagree with others in the community without losing anything. It means having my voice heard, acknowledged, and welcomed.
A Seat at the Table
There is a lot of talk nowadays about being “invited to the table,” meaning being included in the conversation rather than having to wait for those at the table to discuss and decide and hand down a verdict. I know that language is useful to many people, but it reminds me of Thanksgiving dinner.
At Thanksgiving dinner, the adults sit at the adults’ table with all the food, nice plates, and wine. The children sit at the kids’ table with pre-prepared portions of food on paper plates and juice in plastic cups. As I grew older, I was put in charge of the kids’ table and made sure everyone had what they needed and that they didn’t bother the adults unnecessarily.
This metaphor of being invited to the table makes me feel like I am still at the kids’ table. I may be in leadership over everyone else at that table, but I am still considered “a kid.” Even if I’m invited to sit at the adults’ table, I’m not really one of them. I’m just a kid with a new seat, closer to the mashed potatoes.
I don’t want to have to fight for a seat at the table or wait to be invited. I want to be in a place where my seat at the table is a given, where it is taken for granted that I have been called and equipped with gifts and skills for leadership.
I’m tired of having this debate. I’m tired of being forced to defend myself and my fellow women believers at every turn. I’m tired of being angry at the injustice. I’m tired of being disappointed at the realization that, yet again, it’s really all about fear of sharing power, fear of losing control, fear that the truth may not be quite so neat and tidy after all.
I’m ready to move on from the kids’ table and step into the life God has called me to live. This reality is not what we are meant to be. The table is too small, and there are not enough chairs.
Where is the beauty and innocence of the first Christians?
Where is the unity and trust among believers?
Where is the sharing of wealth and power?
How can we regain our connection with the ideal, the beginning, the first bloom of the coming together of the community of God?
To be continued…
Choosing Church: A Lament (Part 1)
Last week two of my dear friends were accepted as candidates for ordination in the Evangelical Presbyterian Church. One was passed by the committee without any difficulty. The other was required to complete an extra step by writing a statement in defense of the biblical basis for being called to ordained ministry. One was accepted immediately. The other was accepted only by secret ballot.
These two friends, we’ll call them Adam and Amy, are a married couple who met in seminary and have been walking through the ordination process together. Can you guess which candidacy experience was Adam’s and which was Amy’s?
This kind of story is not uncommon, but it should be. When it comes to the issue of women in ministry and leadership, the question often revolves around teaching or preaching in the church. Should “they” be “allowed” to do “men’s work?”
But what about those of us who are not called to such obvious leadership roles? How do we advocate for ourselves or learn to find our own voices when even those women whose voices are gifted and called to vocation in the church are criticized, treated with suspicion, or even silenced?
Ideal vs Real
Consider the formation of the early church at Pentecost in Acts 2. When everything was new and just beginning, “all the believers were together and had everything in common.” In fact, “they broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people.” At that moment, as the community of God was being formed, everyone one was invited to the table, without regard for race, gender, or class. The excitement and joy over being first filled with the Holy Spirit superseded everything else. They had a common purse, a common purpose, and a shared trust in one another.
Then, as the church began to grow and as the first glow began to wear off, issues began to arise–issues of class, organization, leadership, rules, gender, and race. People began to argue, disagree, and divide. By the time of Martin Luther, the community of God was so broken that it could not remain unified anymore.
Since the emergence of Protestantism, the community of God has divided over issues of doctrine and church practice.
Gone is the unity believers once enjoyed and valued above all disagreements.
Gone are those first days of innocence and trust among fellow believers.
Gone is the ability to trust in the movement of the Holy Spirit in one another.
How can we regain our connection with the ideal, the beginning, the first bloom of the coming together of the community of God?
To be continued… (Read part 2 now!)
Forward Friday: The Question of Women
This week was Blast from the Past Week during which I posted a few of my theological reflections on readings from a class on “Women in Church History and Theology” back when I was in seminary.
For today’s Forward Friday, let’s engage theologically with some of the following issues. What resonates with you? What makes you uncomfortable?
Remember, it’s important to know what we think about things and where our opinions and beliefs come from. It’s also important to know what other people think and where their opinions and beliefs come from.
Iron sharpens iron, people, so let’s get to rubbing!
- what does the Bible say about “a woman’s place” and how should we interpret it?
- are women good like Mary or bad like Eve?
- is God feminine?
- what is a woman’s true nature and does it preclude ministry and leadership?
- is the silence of women contextual or prescriptive and is there room for exceptions?
Come back by and leave your thoughts in the comment box below. If you blog about it, be sure to share a link!
Was John Calvin a feminist?
It’s Blast from the Past Week on Holistic Body Theology. Here are some of my theological reflections from a class I took on “Women in Church History and Theology” at Fuller Seminary.
First posted May 27, 2008 as “Calvin on Women”
Was John Calvin an accidental feminist?
Jane Dempsey Douglass, in her article “Christian Freedom: What Calvin Learned at the School of Women,” suggests that Calvin might be something of a cloaked and even accidental feminist. She notes that the significant mark of his attention to women is his choice “to place Paul’s advice for women to be silent in church among the indifferent things in which the Christian is free” (155).
In other words, Calvin thinks a woman’s silence is not an irrevocable command from heaven but rather a “human law which is open to change” (156). If this is the case, then churches have the freedom to decide individually what is and is not consistent with order and decency in worship.
Douglass argues that Calvin makes no remarks in his many works that would contradict her reading of the implications of his classification of a woman’s silence in church as “indifferent.” She notes that the “only mention of women’s subjection I have found is in the context of submission of the church to the Word of God” (160).
In fact, in the passage in his Institutes concerning head coverings, Calvin writes, “If the church requires it, we may not only without any offense allow something to be changed but permit any observances previously in use among us to be abandoned” (qtd. 158). Thus, argues Douglass, Calvin is open to changes in church order concerning indifferent issues.
She even goes so far as to suggest that “Calvin feels the need to correct the apparent meaning of Paul’s statement lest his readers understand that women lack the fullness of the created image of God” (159). He even allows women to speak in church should God call them in a special situation (164).
In light of this evidence, Douglass suggests several conclusions: Calvin argues concerning the subordination of women “in the context of Christian freedom” (165); he labels Paul’s directive as human, not divine, law; he advocates for women being made in the image of God theologically if not in the realm of human order; interestingly, Calvin seems to “relativize the authority of the epistles” because he does not take Paul’s statement or arguments at face value (166).
Nevertheless, Douglass must conclude that regardless of the implications Calvin’s classification raises, he “expected women to return to their traditional subordinate roles” (172). This conclusion leaves me with the question: how much good does a proposition like this do if it is unintentional and in any case not capitalized on in general church order during and after the Reformation?
Human vs. divine rule in Calvin’s theology
John Thompson, in his article “Polity as Adiaphora in John Calvin: The Strange Case of Women’s Silence in Church,” is less enthusiastic about the positive implications of Calvin’s classification than is Douglass. He argues that in fact Calvin would never have supported women speaking in church and wrote to that effect, because “such an office [of public ministry] does not befit one who is in submission” (2); Calvin was also unaware of the positive implications Douglass attaches to his classification since he never discussed them further; mostly, Calvin was not a man likely to approve any kind of change, much less one so controversial.
At best, Thompson asserts, Calvin means by his classification the possibility of “a suspension of the rules, not a change” (4). Thus, there may be occasions when the voice of a woman in church will be called for or at least unavoidable, but these occasions do not permit “a change in polity but a temporary suspension thereof in circumstances of necessity or emergency” (5), a position Calvin is not the first to hold (re. Vermigli).
Thompson also notes that while “polity is a humanly-created order,” there are some rules of polity that “are divinely-instituted” (6). Since Calvin’s only examples for his classification of women’s silence as indifferent concern occasional or emergency situations, and since Calvin does not seem to be aware of any other implications of his concession, it is more likely—Thompson argues—that Calvin is not advocating very much freedom for women at all but rather asserting that one’s lack of decorum in a certain instance will not endanger one’s salvation (8).
Models/lessons from Calvin
Calvin’s example of stressing order and decorum in church worship is commendable. As a Presbyterian, I can at least give him that much credit. His distinction between God-ordained commands and human-devised rules is also a useful model as we try to extricate from its cultural seat the truth of scripture for today’s practical application in our many and various church settings. Even his admittance that indifferent rules may be suspended when necessary (if not amended or entirely altered) shows a flexibility in order and structure that allows one at least to breathe, if not grow.
In my opinion, regardless of Calvin’s intention or motive, his classification of the issue of women’s silence in church as indifferent to salvation does have positive implications for women in ministry. He may not have meant to give the kind of freedom Douglass hopes for in her analysis of his humanist background and theological writings, but he did open the door for it.
Perhaps it is for later theologians and scholars to build on the foundation Calvin laid for an orderly kind of worship that he would not have been able to see clearly through his own cultural lens. If Calvin, in his context, could make concessions on a temporary basis, perhaps he has paved the way for more permanent changes in today’s context.
The “Real” Point of the Argument About Women
It’s Blast from the Past Week on Holistic Body Theology. Here are some of my theological reflections from a class I took on “Women in Church History and Theology” at Fuller Seminary.
First posted May 16, 2008
Christine de Pizan and the question of women
“I finally decided that God formed a vile creature when He made woman, and I wondered how such a worthy artisan could have deigned to make such an abominable work which, from what they say, is the vessel as well as the refuge and abode of every evil and vice…I considered myself most unfortunate because God had made me inhabit a female body in this world.” ~ Christine de Pizan
Vile. Abominable. Abode of every evil and vice. Indeed, what woman could feel anything but “most unfortunate” when convinced of her sorry state of existence before the perfection that is held up as man? The querelle des femmes, and later the witchcraze, feature in the great debate about the nature of a woman: is she good (like Mary) or is she bad (like Eve)?
With the advent of a wider availability of education for women, a new realization of and outcry against oppression and misogyny arose. Are women really as bad as “they” say, these men who are educated by men and surrounded by educated men and uneducated women, these men who capitalize on each other’s propositions about the female sex and project their own sexual appetites onto them, these men who happening upon a woman of equal or superior learning/courage/virtue, etc. can only scratch their heads and pronounce her to have risen above her sex—are women as bad as “they” say?
Malleus Maleficarum, objectification, and witchcraft
While courtly love, this ideal of romance, was at its peak, women like Christine began to expose “the attitudes it promoted toward women, and its reduction of romance to sexual conquest—and abandonment” (Kelly 10). Women were nothing more than sexual objects made to feel empowered for the purposes of the game but ultimately losing.
A counterpoint to courtly love may be the rise of fear concerning witchcraft; where one’s romantic interest is held to be without fault, the witch is the epitome of fault. In the Malleus Maleficarum, the two authors surmise that witchcraft appeals more to the woman because (as Monter summarizes) “women are more credulous than men; women are more impressionable; also, ‘they have slippery tongues, and are unable to conceal from their fellow-women those things they have learned by evil arts’…[they have a] greater sexual appetite…[and are by] nature quicker to waver in the faith” (129).
So courtly love holds up a woman as the virginal Mary, but only for purposes of conquest. The accusation of witchcraft colors woman as the deceptive, lustful Eve who is vindictive and in cahoots with devils. Whether she is good like Mary or bad like Eve, she is still just a woman, rationally inferior (Kelly 12).
Dan Doriani, Women and Ministry
I try not to get frustrated when I read about what men used to think about women, but it is difficult when I realize that it is sometimes still the case today. Arguments from nature may have softened their terms and tone, but they are just as harmful and hurtful as ever.
I’m reading Dan Doriani’s Women and Ministry right now for another class, and the gentleness of his tone and the caution with which he steps ever harder on the attempts of women to do God’s work are beginning to infuriate me more than the brash diatribes of these centuries-old documents like the Malleus Maleficarum.
I want never to find myself in the place Christine de Pizan once was, despising her own sex, despising her own self, lamenting that God would make her at all if he would choose to make her so deformed and despicable as to suffer being a woman.
If such a state is the logical conclusion of the pontification of men over the nature of a woman, there is no good in the reason of such men. God made male and female and pronounced them good. Anything short of that pronouncement is a lie–one men have perpetuated and built upon for thousands of years.
Choosing the harder path
So I say hurray for the women who “rose above their sex” to the extent that they could recognize their oppression and speak against it.
Hurray for the women who would not accept lies about themselves or allow anyone to continue telling them to other women.
Hurray for the women who suffered and toiled and even lost for the sake of the querelle des femmes and in the face of accusations with as heavy a price as death by fire.
Hurray for women who stood up and said “no” to the insistence that they had less rationality, less virtue, less strength of character, less natural ability, less faith.
May I have such courage to speak with gentleness and yet persistence when I face accusations of my own. The way has been paved for me. And that is a blessing.
Maternal Language for God
It’s Blast from the Past Week on Holistic Body Theology. Here are some of my theological reflections from a class I took on “Women in Church History and Theology” at Fuller Seminary.
First posted May 9, 2008
Julian of Norwich, Showings
The idea of referring to God as Mother, or even as Mother-Father, has never sat comfortably with me. I cherish the image of God as Father and attribute much of my relationship with God to the understanding that image has fostered. (Note: I’ve come a long way since first writing this post.)
Nevertheless, I felt no discomfort when reading Julian of Norwich’s Showings. Perhaps that is because it was not my first reading of her revelations using such prevalent maternal language and imagery when referring to God and especially to Jesus. Or perhaps I was not uncomfortable because she is not agenda-driven in her writing. Though Julian often refers to Jesus as our Mother, she continues to refer to him as “he” and just as often pairs the parental reference as God our Father and God our Mother.
Particularly, Julian is writing in explication of sixteen visions she had of Jesus revealing something of himself to her. If her explanations include maternal imagery in conjunction with paternal imagery, I am not upset by it but appreciate what her revelations add to my understanding of God in the role of tender nurturer.
Hildegard and Hadewijch
Likewise the use of maternal imagery in the writings of Hildegard and Hadewijch, as recorded by F. Gerald Downing, does not bother me for similar reasons. These women are not pushing an agenda, trying to force out the man in favor of the woman, or trying to emasculate men or make God a woman. They are simply recording their own experiences of personal encounters with Jesus, using the kind of language and imagery that is both appropriate to their own life experience and to the way in which Jesus chose to reveal himself to them.
As Downing notes, “Hadewijch enjoys a fully tactile (and indeed erotic) sensation of being embraced by him [Jesus] during a mass,” and Julian’s less sexually-charged image of “Christ’s motherly suckling care” is just as intimate and personal a description (429). Downing notes also that the images these women draw on in their writings are all scriptural and traditional sources available but not utilized by other theologians like Anselm and Thomas Aquinas (430).
This kind of imagery, Downing argues, leads to an understanding of “the actions of Father, Son, and Spirit towards us [as] personal, specific, and interconnected, culminating in the Incarnation of the Word and the response the Spirit enables” (433). The point is not a triumph of feminine imagery over masculine but of personal, bodily imagery of a real and experienced relationship with God over impersonal, abstract imagery of a distant God who is perfect but inaccessible.
Marriane Meye Thompson, “Speaking of God”
Marianne Meye Thompson writes in her article “Speaking of God” that it is important not to lose one’s audience for the sake of pushing a theological conviction that the way has not been prepared for (6). What is the help in praying to God as Mother before a room full of people who have no idea what you are doing?
But Julian teaches her readers, in the midst of her sensuous and bodily language, how to imagine God (and particularly Jesus) as relating to us not just like a Father but like a Mother as well: “for God’s fatherhood and motherhood is fulfilled in true loving of God; which blessed love Christ works in us” (chapter 60). I think Thompson would agree that reading Julian out of context would be detrimental to an unprepared audience, but Julian’s unashamed use of maternal language (“[Jesus] feeds us and nurtures us: even as that high sovereign kindness of motherhood [does],” chapter 63) in general draws no particular criticism.
Paul Jewett, The Ordination of Women
Paul Jewett would probably also agree that Julian’s use of maternal language is appropriate because they are just metaphors. She still uses the masculine pronoun “he” to refer to each of the three persons of the Trinity—“for he [Jesus] is our Mother, Brother, and Savior” (chapter 58, emphasis added)—which is the only thing Jewett is concerned about.
She also does not use maternal language to the exclusion of paternal language, so Jewett would not be too concerned about her usage but would probably praise her ability to integrate these images so smoothly into her descriptions. In fact, Jewett actually declares that “the church needs to teach that God is as much like a mother as like a father” (139), and thus Julian does.
Is feminine imagery for God “un-biblical?”
Thompson notes that while there is a “predominance of male imagery for God” in the Bible, it is also true that “the Bible does use feminine imagery for God” as well (2). Since “much of our language for God is metaphorical and analogical” (1), there is no grounds for the claim that it is “unbiblical to picture God in analogies from the sphere of women’s experience” (3). What Julian does in her writing is provide a balanced analogy of the parental relationship, both that of the Father and the Mother whenever she deems appropriate. In that way, she is able to elevate from a “second degree” status the part of the woman in the image of God (5).
Jewett echoes Thompson in the acknowledgement that women have been demeaned in the church, relegated to a secondary or “human-not-quite-human” status in relation to men (119). Since God has revealed himself in masculine language through the biblical authors, and since theologians have followed that tradition in referring to God, Jewett argues that it is appropriate to use masculine language, especially the masculine pronoun “he,” to refer to God (123).
Nevertheless, it is important to educate Christians that while a masculine pronoun can be more appropriate in some contexts than a feminine one, that usage must be balanced with the recognition that “God so transcends all sexual distinction as to be neither male nor female, yet appropriately likened to both” (124).
Julian does just that: likens God to both a Father and a Mother, “as truly as God is our Father, so truly God is our Mother” (chapter 59). Ultimately, Jewett asserts, God has revealed himself not as masculine but as personal, the “personal Subject, saying I am who I am” (127), so while masculine language about God is appropriate because of tradition, “we must not continue to think of the male as supremely the bearer of the image of God” (128).
Julian helps us understand God in feminine terms as well with her many references to Jesus as the suckling mother who cares for his children: “The mother may give her child suck of her milk, but our precious Mother Jesus feeds us with himself” (chapter 60).
Holistic Body Theology 