In White Women's Christ and Black Women's Jesus, I read Jacquelyn Grant's summary of feminist Mary Daly.
Here are a couple of my favorite passages in my reading today:
1. Dr. Grant sums up some of Mary Daly's points as follows, on pages 163-164: "There are two points to be made here. First, if women's issues are trivial and too particular to be appropriate subject matter for theological and specifically Christological formulations, then women must seriously consider the possibility that Christology and theology are irrelevant to women. Second is the idea that if the only hope for the liberation of women is for women to accept their functional subordination here on earth while pressing forward to the state of heavenly bliss where there shall be neither male nor female in Christ, then this functionally-impotent Christ must be discarded."
I appreciated the first point because a thought has frequently crossed my mind, particularly over the past few years: If Christianity and Christians are not going to make at least some attempt to understand where I'm coming from, then why should I be a part of them? They deem me and my issues to be irrelevant. So why should I assume that anything they have to offer is relevant to me? They expect me to promote enthusiastically their agenda, and yet they don't respect me as an individual. All they do is bark commands, and they could care less if I (or anyone else) has a difficult time fulfilling them.
Mary Daly had that sort of reaction to a church that trivialized the concerns of women (or, perhaps, feminist women), as if they were unimportant.
I realize that my sentiment may sound very self-centered, but it's not, at least not entirely. I'm not saying that churches should cater to me, as if I'm the center of the universe. I realize that it's not the job of the world to adapt to me, but I must adapt to the world. I just wish that churches would recognize that there are different kinds of people in the world, and so, instead of trying to force everyone into their "one size fits all" paradigm, perhaps they should try to meet people where they are. But, while there are churches that are not "in your face" (such as the one that I attend), there are plenty that will try to force people into a mold, just because they believe that mold is "biblical." While I admit that I must adapt to the world, I, as a consumer, can choose where I go to church, and if I go to church. I can decide whether or not it's relevant to me, and to my growth as a person.
I liked Mary Daly's second point because Christianity bases so much on the existence of a happy afterlife, of which we don't even have proof! I'm not homosexual, but I think that telling homosexuals that they must remain celibate for the rest of their natural lives---all for an afterlife that may or may not exist---is demanding too much of them. I can understand why they'd reject such an order! And telling women that they must embrace their subordination, for an afterlife that may or may not exist, can easily come across to some women as a functionally impotent concept, which does not help them in any tangible way.
And yet, I don't want to toss out the importance of dealing with the harsh world as it is, or of looking forward to a good afterlife. If so many people in the world do not like me, and I don't know how to change that, then I should take comfort in God's unconditional love, and look forward to a good afterlife. This world will always be imperfect, so I should take comfort in what is perfect.
And yet, that should never be an excuse to allow injustice in this world.
2. On page 168, Dr. Grant states: "As a radical, Daly no longer uses Jesus as a model. Even though she recognizes the attempt of reformists to reinterpret Jesus as a feminist, she responds: 'Jesus was a feminist, but so what'? 'Even if he wasn't, I am.' Jesus becomes a good person, merely a model breaker, if anything of significance at all."
I appreciated this because the Armstrongite church in which I grew up asked every election year, "How would Jesus vote?" The answer was, "He wouldn't vote." Some of you may have heard that he'd vote Republican, or Democrat.
I never really cared for that question because, quite frankly, I never cared how Jesus would vote, or if he would vote. The fact was that I wanted to vote, and there were certain candidates whom I liked. I never enjoyed being pressured to subordinate my own individuality to imitate Jesus.
But I don't entirely toss out the question of "How would Jesus vote?", for I think that I should vote according to certain standards, which are beyond my personal desires and interests: What is fair? What is just? That's not to say that I want to equate Jesus with my political ideology, but that I believe that standards Jesus taught should influence my political ideology, providing the framework for it. And, often, we have to make value judgments about what we consider to be more important, for candidates may uphold righteousness in some areas, but not in others.
On Jesus being a good person, I don't worry a great deal about Christology these days. I suppose that I can embrace a Jesus who commands me to be a certain way, because he's God. But I prefer just to admire his goodness and to gain inspiration from it. If I arrive at the conclusion that the goodness that he demonstrated was a revelation of God, then that's cool with me!