Thursday, July 12, 2012

Notes to Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is, The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse, Introduction


A Crucial Question

The theme here, and in a way of the whole book, is a phrase that Elizabeth repeats several times in this chapter, namely, “The symbol of God functions.”  She introduces the phrase early on:

What is the right way to speak about God?  This is a question of unsurpassed importance, for speech to and about the mystery that surrounds human lives and the universe itself is a key activity of a community of faith.  In that speech the symbol of God functions as the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the ultimate point of reference for understanding experience, life, and the world.  Hence the way in which a faith community shapes language about God implicitly represents what it takes to be the highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty.  3-4

How a religious community speaks of God forms its identity and “directs its praxis.”  4  Praxis means practice, what a community does on the basis of its faith as opposed to what the community thinks.  Elizabeth uses the word a lot.  When you see it, just think practice.[1]  The God symbol functions in the same way for individuals as it does for communities:

The symbol of God functions.  Neither abstract in content nor neutral in its effect, speaking about God sums up, unifies, and expresses a faith community’s sense of ultimate mystery, the world view and expectation of order devolving from them, and the concomitant orientation of human life and devotion.  4

In our time women are bringing new life to the issue of language about God:

The women’s movement in civil society and the church has spread a bright light on the pervasive exclusion of women from the realm of public symbol making [i.e., the formation of our language for God], and women’s consequent strongly enforced subordination to the imagination and needs of a  world designed chiefly by men.  4

This exclusion has been “stunningly effective in speech about God.”  4

While officially it is rightly and consistently said that God is spirit and so beyond identification with either male or female sex, yet the daily language of preaching, worship, catechesis, and instruction conveys a different message:  God is male, or at least more like a man than a woman, or at least more fittingly addressed as male than female.  4-5

The symbol of God functions, and exclusively male language about God “serves in manifold ways to support an imaginative or structural world that excludes or subordinates women.  Wittingly or not, it undermines women’s human dignity as equally created in the image of God.”  5
Women are starting to change all that.  “Feminist theologians, engaging in the traditional theological task of reflecting on God and all things in the light of God, are shaping new speech about God….”  5  Today women are “naming toward God” from their experience of sexism.
The “presenting issue” in the discussion of what we call “inclusive language” for God is, ostensibly at least, “whether the reality of women can provide suitable metaphor for speech about God.”  5  There is, however, a lot at stake, because “the symbol of God functions.”

Language about God in female images not only challenges the literal mindedness that has clung to male images in inherited God-talk; it not only questions [men’s] dominance in discourse about holy mystery.  But insofar as ‘the symbol gives rise to thought,’ such speech calls into question prevailing structures of patriarchy.

Introducing this mode of speech [i.e., female images for God] signals a shift, among those who use it, in their sense of the divine, a shift in total world views, in the highest ideals and values, in personal and corporate identity.

What is the right way to speak about God in the face of women’s newly cherished human dignity and equality?  This is a crucial theological question.  What is at stake is the truth about God.  5-6

There are lots of things to say about these introductory statements.  The question she is posing is not “Who is God” but how are we to speak about God.  She will stress throughout the book that God always remains ultimate mystery, and here she calls God “the mystery that surrounds human life and the universe itself.”  God is the all-pervasive mystery, and the word God is our primary symbol for that mystery.  If that sounds familiar to you from my book, thank you for paying attention.  A religion (or a religious system) is a system of symbols, and God is the primary symbol of the religious system.
How we speak about that chief symbol of the religion matters, and it matters a great deal.  Basically, the language we use about God reflects our deepest values, and we tend to act on the basis of the values that we express in our language about God.  Elizabeth makes this point right up front, I think, because she is aware of the wide-spread notion that our language about God doesn’t matter very much.  Specifically, many people, including many women, say they aren’t offended by the Christian tradition’s exclusively male language about God because they understand that God transcends gender, so they don’t feel excluded by the male language.  Elizabeth is saying here that she disagrees with that understanding.  She doesn’t really go into the matter, but I am sure that she would agree that part of the problem is that symbols and symbolic language work in the human psyche at the unconscious level, so that they can have effects on our thinking and our behavior that we aren’t even aware of.  When she says again and again that “the symbol of God functions” she means that it functions at that unconscious level, at levels we are not consciously aware of.  Exclusively male language for God has consequences even if we don’t always see the connection between the language and the consequences.  Liberating both men and women from patriarchy, androcentrism, and misogyny requires liberating our God language from them first.[2]  That liberation has begun in the women’s movements in society and in the church, even in Elizabeth’s Roman Catholic Church.
Throughout the book Elizabeth will say that exclusively male language about God is the product of a sexist culture and that it functions to perpetuate and legitimize that sexism.  You of course don’t have agree, but please understand that I agree completely.  I hope you will give her thesis that the God symbol functions, that how we speak of God really matters, a fair hearing with an open mind.

Context:  Mystery Mediated in History

“The unfathomable mystery of God is always mediated through shifting historical discourse.”  Elizabeth means here that our human language about God isn’t fixed, isn’t eternal.  It is always determined by and reflects the historical circumstances of the people doing the speaking.

Language about God has a history….There has been no timeless speech about God in Jewish or Christian tradition.  Rather, words about God are cultural creatures, entwined with the mores and adventures of the faith community that uses them.  As cultures shift, so too does the specificity of God-talk.  6

She gives as an example Thomas Aquinas talking about whether it is proper to refer to God as person.  He says that it is permissible to do so even though the Bible doesn’t call God a person.  I think that Elizabeth is here citing Aquinas, the thirteenth century giant of Scholasticism who is still today a towering figure in Catholic theology, to give herself cover for deviating from traditional Catholic language about God.  If Aquinas says it’s OK, Josef Ratzinger, who was the head of the office formerly called the Inquisition when Elizabeth wrote this book and who is now Pope Benedict XVI, will be hard pressed to call her to task for it, as much as he would no doubt like to do so.  Elizabeth then makes the point herself:

It is not necessary to restrict speech about God to the exact names that Scripture uses nor to terms coined by the later tradition.  So long as the words signify something that does characterize the living God mediated through Scripture, tradition, and present faith experience, for example, divine liberating action of self-involving love for the world, then new language can be used with confidence.  7

Elizabeth’s main point here is this:  Human language about God can not be frozen into old, traditional terms, even if those terms come from the Bible or the later Christian tradition.  New language about God must not contradict the knowledge about God that we have from Scripture and the Christian tradition, but it may, and indeed it must, also reflect “present faith experience,” that is, the present experience of God of contemporary people, especially of people like women who have been excluded from the process of God language formation in Biblical and post-Biblical times.
Sexism, and the urgency of confronting it, make it “imperative to find more adequate ways of expressing the ancient good news that faith is to proclaim.”
Elizabeth then writes a difficult but important sentence:  “The present ferment about naming, imagining, and conceptualizing God from perspectives of women’s experiences repristinates the truth that the idea of God, incomprehensible mystery, implies an open-ended history of understanding that is not yet finished.”  7  Don’t worry about that obscure word “repristinates.”  I think it means makes fresh and new again—makes pristine again.  The point is that the search of women for new names and images for God reflects and is grounded in the fact that our language about God, who is ultimately beyond all language, is not fixed and eternal.  It is therefore legitimate and permissible to change it.  It is even necessary to change it.
Then Elizabeth makes some of these assumptions clear in a way very similar to what I do in my book.  In her letter to me about my book she particularly praised my discussion of Tillich’s theory of symbols.  Reading She Who Is again, I can see why that part of my book would particularly have appealed to her.

The historical open-endedness of talk about God is due not only to its location in time, place, and culture, which is the case with all human speech, but to the very nature of what we are talking about.  The reality of God is mystery beyond all imagining.  So transcendent, so immanent is the holy mystery of God that we can never wrap our minds completely around this mystery and exhaust divine reality in words and concepts.  7

The ultimate incomprehensibility of God makes attempts to find new, better language desirable.  “It is a matter of the livingness of God.  Given the inexhaustible mystery inherent in what the word God points to, historically new attempts at articulation are to be expected and even welcomed.”  7
Note her phrase “what the word God points to.”  It is an important concept.  “God” is not a thing.  “God” is not the name of some being, not even a Supreme Being.  All language about God points beyond itself to that which it cannot capture, cannot define.  That is true even of the word God.  The technical way of saying this is that “God” is a symbol, as Elizabeth does in her phrase “the symbol of God functions.”

Purpose:  Connecting Feminist and Classical Wisdom

Elizabeth here says, basically, that her purpose in writing is the liberation of both women and men:  “My aim in what follows is to speak a good word about the mystery of God recognizable within the contours of Christian faith that will serve the emancipatory praxis of women and men to the benefit of all creation….”  8  To do that she will draw on both feminist theology and more traditional Christian language. 
Note that Elizabeth makes the decision intentionally and consciously to work within the Christian faith tradition.  Not all feminist theologians who begin from a Christian position do.  Mary Daly, to whom Elizabeth occasionally refers, is famous for having reached the conclusion that a male person cannot act as Savior for women, and so she rejected Christianity altogether.  Elizabeth makes a different decision so that she finds value in at least some parts of traditional Christian theology.  She says here that she will use some of that traditional Christian language in what follows.
Then comes a significant definition of feminist theology:

By Christian feminist theology I mean reflection on God and all things in the light of God that stands consciously in the company of all the world’s women, explicitly prizing their genuine humanity, while uncovering and criticizing its persistent violation in sexism, itself an omnipresent paradigm of unjust relations.  8

There are then three elements to “feminist theology.”  1.  It is theology on the same conceptual level as any other theology, a point Elizabeth makes when she repeats here a definition of theology she has already used, that it is “reflection on God and all things in the light of God.”  2.  It is done from the perspectives on life of women.  3.  It is not neutral.  It makes at least three a priori assumptions that form the basis of everything that follows:  a.  Women are human beings equal to men and having an inherent human dignity equal to that of men.  b.  That equal humanity of women is everywhere denied by a prevalent sexism.  c.  That denial is unjust and must be countered.  Elizabeth doesn’t quite say so here, but she told me in one of my conversations with her at Seattle University in the summer of 1998 that only women can do feminist theology.  Men can be allies of feminist theologians, but they cannot be feminist theologians because they cannot write from the perspective of a woman.
She continues, saying that feminist theology

claims the fullness of the [Christian] religious heritage for women precisely as human in their own right and independent from personal identification with men.  Women are equally created in the image and likeness of God, equally redeemed by Christ, equally sanctified by the Holy Spirit; women are equally involved in the on-going tragedy of sin and the mystery of grace, equally called to mission in the world, equally destined for life with God in glory.  8

Some people, including some women, consider this strong, explicit emphasis on the equality of women to be unnecessary.  They say they’ve always assumed women’s equality and don’t need to have it preached to them.  Remember, however, one of the basic assumptions of feminist theology, that pervasive sexism in human cultures denies that equality.  The feminist assumption, and mine as a feminist ally, is that the radical equality of women has been so consistently and radically denied for so long that that equality cannot now be over-emphasized or articulated too frequently or too strongly.  It certainly cannot simply be assumed.
“Feminist theology explicitly recognizes that the contradiction between this theological identity of women and the historical condition of women in theory and practice is glaring.”  9  Sexism, she says, which is the denial of women’s radical equality, is “sinful,” is “contrary to God’s intent, and “is a precise and pervasive breaking of the basic commandment ‘thou shalt love they neighbor as thyself’.”  9  Sexism “affronts God by defacing the beloved creature created in the image of God.”  Church and society must both repent, must turn around from this sin.  9
Therefore, “feminist theology advocates the reform of patriarchal civil and ecclesial [church] structures and the intellectual systems that support them in order to release all human beings for more just designs of living….”  Feminist theology therefore is done not just for women but for all people “who care for justice and truth….”  9
Having discussed what she means by feminist theology, Elizabeth turns to what she means by “classical theology,” she having labeled this section “Connecting Feminist and Classical Wisdom.”  Classical theology, with which she aims to connect feminist wisdom, is “the body of thought that arose in the early Christian centuries in partnership with the Greek philosophical tradition and continued through the medieval period, molding the discourse of the churches at the beginning of the modern era.”  9  It shaped our language about God, including the language of Trinity.
This tradition, she says, is “profoundly ambiguous” in what it has meant for women.  It has “aided and abetted the exclusion and subordination of women, but also sustained generations of foremothers and foresisters in the faith.”  9  She says that she is willing to “give classical theology a hearing,” to listen for what it might have to say that may yet be of value.  And she believes that classical theology does indeed have things of value to offer.
Yet the project is complex both because God is ultimately incomprehensible and because the experiences of women are so diverse and manifold.  There are different feminist perspectives arising all over the world.  10  Elizabeth acknowledges that her own perspective “is inevitably shaped by my social location as a white, middle-class, educated and hence privileged citizen of a wealthy North American country.”  It is also shaped by the fact that she is Catholic as well as by her wide travels around the world teaching and lecturing.  She describes her own stance as “within the liberation stream of Catholic Christian feminist theology.”  11
Perhaps a comment about an important aspect of contemporary modern or post-modern theology is in order here.  There is general agreement among contemporary theologians (at least among those who are working outside the Fundamentalist or other literalist traditions that consider the “Word of God” to be absolute, absolutely clear, and absolutely the same for everybody, giving no regard to the differences in social location that enlightened theologians know are so important) that everybody does theology, and everybody has always done theology, from a particular “Sitz im Leben,” a certain location in life, a certain cultural social, political, and economic context that shapes their view of God and of theology.  All theology is and always has been “contextual,” the term usually used for this understanding of theology.  Elizabeth is well aware of and fully agrees with the insight that all theology is contextual.  That’s why she takes pains here in the Introduction to specify her own context.
Returning to the liberation aspect of feminist theology she says that for her “the goal of feminist religious discourse pivots in its fullness around the flourishing of poor women of color in violent situation.”  11  This liberating aspect of feminism especially for the poor and the victims of violence is central to Elizabeth’s theology.  She writes from a different perspective, as she acknowledges; but she writes as an ally of those oppressed women of color about whom she so passionately cares.
Liberating women liberates all of society “because women…are the lowest ebb, marginalized, yet sustaining every society.”  11  Elizabeth speaks powerfully of justice here:  “Only when the poorest, black, raped, and brutalized women in a South African township—the epitome of victims of sexism, racism, and classism, and at the same time startling examples of women’s resilience, courage, love and dignity—when such women with their dependent children and their sisters around the world may live peacefully in the enjoyment of their human dignity, only then will feminist theology arrive at its goal.”  11  It sounds like Elizabeth has experienced oppression in South Africa much as Walter Wink has, although she doesn’t specifically say that she has.

Plan

Here she gives a brief outline of the “plan” of the book.  Part I “provides context and background for the speech about God which follows.”  Part II “gathers assets from women’s articulated experiences, from Scripture, and from classical theology, which can serve as resources for an emancipatory pattern of speech about God.”  Part III “explores a theology of God” that begins with God’s renewing presence in the world and then considers speech about each “Person” of the Trinity.  This section tests “the capacity of female images to bear and disclose” the actions of God in the world.  Part IV traces female symbols “as they give rise to thought.”  13  I guess we’ll have to wait until Part IV to discover what “as they give rise to thought” means.

In the end this exploration points toward God with the coinage SHE WHO IS, a divine title signifying the creative, relational power of being who enlivens, suffers with, sustains, and enfolds the universe.  SHE WHO IS points to holy mystery beyond all imagining who creates women as well as men to be imago Dei [the image of God], the grammar of God’s self-utterance and participants in her liberating care for this conflictual world and all its creatures.  13

If I am not mistaken, the phrase in this quote “her liberating care” is the first time Elizabeth has actually used a feminine pronoun for God in this book.

Scotosis [Hardening of the Mind] v. the Glory of God

People who feel threatened by feminist theology [and remember that because Elizabeth is Catholic this probably refers to, among others, the entirely male Catholic hierarchy, which is engaged today in a passionate defense of its exclusive hold on power] often try to diminish its importance.  They display a “hardening of the mind,” or “scotosis.”  Scotosis, or hardening of the mind, results when new questions are suppressed in order to prevent the emergence of unwanted insight.  14  In the late 1990s, John Paul II, who was Pope when this book was written, no doubt working in conjunction with Cardinal Ratzinger, who is Pope today, declared that anyone who even speaks of the ordination of women in the Roman Catholic Church distances herself from the fellowship of the church.  This pronouncement didn’t quite make even talking about ordination of women an offense that would result in excommunication, but it came close.  My experience at Seattle University was that the Pope’s statement didn’t stop anyone from talking about ordaining women in the Roman Catholic church.  It is however an indication of how afraid the male Catholic hierarchy is of the women’s movement within the Church.  Scotosis happens both to individuals and to whole communities.  Group interest tends to limit intelligence.  Marginalizing feminist theology is an example of this phenomenon.  14
The inquiry here, on the contrary, is grounded in a famous saying of Irenaeus of Lyons:  “Gloria Dei vivens homo”, “the glory of God is the human being fully alive.”  Irenaeus is one of the famous “fathers” of the Christian church in the West.  He was Bishop of Lyons in France in the late second century CE and is famous for his writings against so-called heretics.  Much of what we know about the Gnostics comes from his writings against them.  Elizabeth is again citing a source that is above reproach in the Catholic tradition for a position that she knows is not popular with the Catholic powers that be.  Diminishing human beings, any human beings, diminishes God.  Bringing humans fully alive enhances God.  14  People twist the truth about God to justify oppression.  Yet we can press Irenaeus’ maxim to its logically necessary conclusion:  Gloria Dei vivens mulier, the glory of God is woman, women, all women fully alive.  15
The feminist theological enterprise matters:  “The intellectual vitality of the feminist theological agenda is matched and even outpaced by its existential importance.”  15  What is at stake is the liberation of both women and men “and indeed the very viability of the Christian tradition for present and coming generations.”  15  This line makes me think that I should have written a chapter on Christian sexism as another obstacle to faith in my book.
Religions die when their God cannot keep up with human reality.  “If the idea of God does not keep pace with developing reality, the power of experience pulls people on and the god dies, fading from memory.”  15
This powerfully true insight is vitally important not only for feminist theology.  The dominant version of Christianity among us denies it.  It says that God gave a final and absolute revelation of Himself, always Himself, in the Bible and that our task is simply to conform our beliefs and our view of the world to that revelation.  That insistence, more than any other theological or social position, is why Fundamentalism is a threat to the very survival of Christianity.  Our faith has survived for two thousand years and has been the source of meaning for countless people in vastly different historical and cultural circumstances precisely because it can be adapted to speak truth in all of those circumstances.  The Christian faith lives today precisely because it is alive.  Fundamentalism freezes the life out of it.  Fundamentalism makes the faith static, rigid, unyielding, and stagnant.  Such a faith simply cannot long endure.  History will pass it by, rendering it a relic, of interest only to historians, if even to them.  Our task in “liberating Christianity” is nothing less than to rescue our great faith from the inevitable death that faces it if the forces of Fundamentalism, the forces of stagnation and rigidity, cannot be overcome.


[1] In these notes I will put my comments in italics so you can tell when I’m saying something from when I’m reporting what Elizabeth says.  Occasionally italics may represent something else, as when foreign words are italicized or a word or phrase is in italics for emphasis.  Generally, however, the passages in italics are my comments and explanations rather than something Elizabeth herself has written.
[2] Feminist critique usually breaks sexism down into three component parts.  Patriarchy refers to the male-dominated structure of society and the family.  Androcentrism means and refers to the “male-centeredness” of patriarchal cultures and their values.  “Misogyny” means and refers to the devaluation and diminution of women as human beings and as equal members of the society.

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