White Women's Christ and Black Women's Jesus: Feminist Christology and Womanist Response

by Jacquelyn Grant

Christology is especially problematic for feminists. Because Jesus was undeniably male and because the Christian church claims him as the unique God-bearer, feminist christology confronts the dual tasks of explaining the significance of a male God-bearer for women and creating a christological model adequate to feminist experience. Jacquelyn Grant rehearses the development and challenges of feminist christology and argues that, because it has reflected the experience of White women predominantly, it fails to speak to the concerns of non-white and non-western women. In response to this failure, Grant proposes a womanist theology and christology that emerge from and are adequate to the reality of contemporary Black women.

Genres: Theology, Religion, Feminism, Race, Nonfiction, Womens, Faith

280 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1989

Reviews

[Joseph Sverker · Rating 4 out of 5]

No doubt a classic in the field. Very informative as an introduction to feminist theology from 70s to late 80s. Also a landmark work for womanist theology.

[Marc Schelske · Rating 4 out of 5]

White Women’s Christ and Black Women’s Jesus presents a survey of the development of feminist responses to Christology. As a movement centered on the experience and liberation of women, feminism named and responded to two problems relative to Christology: First, does theology that embodies God in male form exclude and devalue women? Second, does this idea of God inevitably justify patriarchy and its many forms of domination? Grant quotes Rosemary Ruether to summarize the problem (216): “Can a male Jesus help woman?” The social deficit in view is women’s oppression as well as the failure of the church to address it.

Feminism sought a response in the experience of women. However, Grant points out that in many cases, the experience in view was that of white women, and often women of means. Not seeing their own experience in this analysis, black women expanded the scope of the work: “Black feminism grows out of black women’s tri-dimensional reality of race/sex/class…a multi-dimensional analysis” (202). This laid the groundwork for Womanist theology, which offers theological readings that encompass the experience of a wider range of people.

Early in the book, Grant makes a point quoting James Cone. I’ve been moving toward this position myself, but I don’t think I’ve heard it expressed so succinctly. “Because Christian theology is human speech about God, it is always related to historical situations, and thus all of its assertions are culturally limited…and…always a reflection of the goals and aspirations of a particular people in a definite social setting” (10). Sometimes, Christians behave as if our theological ideas originated in immaculate conception. We talk about people like Augustine or John Calvin as if their ideas are unadulterated by temperament, social location, or culture. This tendency leaves many Christians disoriented and defensive when others recontextualize essential theological ideas. By taking Cone seriously, we see that the theology we received was articulated within a particular culture and from the vantage of a particular social location. When we theologize, we do so within yet another culture and social location. Even if we were to grant that the original scripture is inerrant, it doesn’t then follow that the interpretation handed down to us or our own interpretation is immune from the impact of culture and social location. As a person for whom Jesus is the center point of my faith, it’s hard for me to hear women say that because Jesus was a man, he can’t understand them, save them, or provide a life-giving spiritual path. Yet, Cone’s words challenged me to listen to their critiques without defensiveness.

These problems that derive from Jesus’ gender are new territory for me. I agree that many have used Jesus and Christian theology to further their agendas of power and control, including to oppress women. Before reading Grant, I would likely have suggested that this depended on inappropriate use of scripture and a misunderstanding of Jesus. In that way, I related strongly to the authors Grant identified as “reformist” Biblical feminists. But Cone’s words challenged me to pay attention to those who say this explanation isn’t sufficient.

Grant suggested that one of the blind spots of white feminism is a desire to seek equality within the current system, with sometimes little interest in naming how the current system is part of the problem. Quoting Alison Jager: “The liberal does not believe that it is necessary to change the whole existing social structure in order to achieve women’s liberation” (39). My response–that it is possible to fight women’s oppression using a more liberal hermeneutic–may have the same kind of blind spot. In defending this position, am I ignoring how a structure that I benefit from propagates the problem?

I was deeply intrigued by Mary Daly’s proposal: “In a real sense, the projection of guilt upon women is patriarchy’s fall, the primordial lie… The message that it unintentionally conveys… is that in patriarchy, with the aid of religion, women have been the primordial scapegoat” (157). This caught my attention because several theologians I’ve been reading lately take a very similar course in order to deconstruct wrathful and punitive images of God. They propose that the wrathful image of God which requires appeasement is, in fact, a projection of humanity’s struggle with power rather than an objectively true description of the nature of God. They would argue that this view of God is part of the consequence of the fall. If they are correct, and I’m increasingly inclined to agree, why would patriarchy be any different? It would be an expression of the central problem of domination.

In the gospel narrative of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, I am inclined to follow Dostoevsky’s reading from the Grand Inquisitor. All three temptations are about different ways of holding power. In overcoming these temptations, we see Jesus choose against the path of self-serving domination. Grant cites Mollenkot arguing that domination has corrupted the way all human relationships are handled, including within the church, and thus must extend to encompass every facet of life. The church must join Jesus in rejecting this path. Mollenkot: “Christian equality is the result of mutual compassion, mutual concern, and mutual voluntary loving service” (96). If this is true, it impacts not only how we behave towards others, particularly those in the margins, but must shape the way we see and talk about Jesus. Again, quoting Reuther: “Jesus’ ability to be liberator does not reside in his maleness, but on the contrary, in the fact that he has renounced this system of domination and seeks to embody in his person the new humanity of service and mutual empowerment.” (143)

The Womanist theologians that Grant presents seem to see this much more clearly because of their ability to see the interrelatedness of oppression in the domains of gender, sexuality, race, and class. They also seem to offer a much more visceral and immediate solution for Jesus’ place in this puzzle. “In the experiences of Black people, Jesus was ‘all things.’ Chief among these, however, was the belief in Jesus as the divine co-sufferer” (212). Grant highlights how this is much more than a simple intellectual affirmation or emotional salve. “To affirm Jesus’ solidarity with the ‘least of these’…is not an exercise in romanticized contentment with one’s oppressed status…For as the resurrection signifies that there is more to life than the cross for Jesus Christ, for Black women it signifies that their tridimensional oppressive existence is not the end, but it merely represents the context in which a particular people struggle to experience hope and liberation. Jesus Christ thus represents a threefold significance: first, he identifies with the ‘little people,’…secondly, he affirmed [their] basic humanity…thirdly, he inspires active hope in the struggle for resurrected liberated existence” (217). This is a vision that inspires me, expands my understanding of Jesus, and motivates me to more deeply engage liberation as a fundamental part of the work of the church.

(This was originally written as a response to the book as part of a graduate school class.)

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting concept that makes sense.

[Steven H · Rating 5 out of 5]

A TRUE “CLASSIC” OF WOMANIST THEOLOGY

Jacquelyn Grant (born 1948) is Professor of Systematic Theology at the Interdenominational Theological Center in Atlanta; she has written/edited The Development and Limitations of Feminist Christology; Toward an engagement of White Women's and Black Women's Religious Experiences and The Recovery of Black Presence: An Interdisciplinary Exploration, and contributed to several other books.

She wrote in the Preface to this 1989 book, “When introduced to christological issues from a feminist perspective, I understood the problem. Though I was not conscious of limitations of a male savior during my upbringing, in my adulthood I was able to see the issues in my life---my studies and my ministry. For in my adulthood, not only did I recognize the sexual politics in theology in a patriarchal society, but also the racial politics in theology in a racist society. I decided to research this project for two reasons: 1) because of the challenge which Christology presented for women, I wanted to explore the feminist responses to the christological question; and 2) because in Black women’s religious experiences we see both an oppressive and liberating Christology at work… I was interested in comparing some of the responses of Black women to those articulated by contemporary White feminist thinkers… my operating hunch was that a corollary difference in their interpretation of Jesus Christ is expectant.” (Pg. ix-x)

In the Introduction, she explains, “many women are asking if a male [Jesus] can be a savior of women. This concern is lodged among a variety of other questions: Why is Jesus used as a ‘weapon’ against (the progress or advancement of) women in the church?... How did Jesus challenge the established order---particularly in reference to women---or did he accept what was said about women by status quo oriented people? In what way(s) can Jesus be considered the savior of women?... I shall explore feminist responses to the above questions…. Also evidenced will be the limitations of feminist Christology when the primary source and context---women’s experience---is challenged by Black women’s experience. I shall argue that racism/sexism/classism, as a conglomerate representation of oppression, is the most adequate point of departure for … [what] feminist theologians advocate. Black women representing an embodiment of this triply oppressive reality possess the potential for a wholistic analysis that can provide for the development of wholistic theological and christological construction which are wholly rather than partially liberating.” (Pg. 2-3)

She states, “For women, nothing short of a shaking of the male universal foundation of theology is required to construct an adequate feminist Christology. Since experience is the context in which christological interpretation takes place, before women begin to reflect on Jesus Christ, they must claim the power to name themselves and their experience so that christological reflections would be authentically theirs.” (Pg. 11)

She acknowledges, “There is much in common between the contemporary women’s movement and the Black movement just as there was in the abolition movement and the women’s movement of the 19th century. In both periods, the women’s movement was influenced by the earlier Black movement… Unfortunately the close relationship between the Black movement and the Women’s movement still did not prevent racism from emerging in the White women’s liberation movement. Consequently, Black women, by and large, rather than exiting with White women, remained in the Black movement.” (Pg. 21, 24)

She argues, “In the work of biblical feminists we find little interstructuring of oppression but rather a single line of argument geared to the elimination of sexism from theology and Christology. The lack of a broader analysis leads to proposals which are too simplistic in nature and inadequate in scope. Certainly it is too narrow and simplistic to adequately embrace the multi-dimensional critical needs of Black women’s traditions.” (Pg. 109)

She points out, “White women’s experience and Black women’s experience are not the same. Indeed all experiences are unique to some degree. But in this case the difference is so radical that it may be said that White women and Black women are in completely different realms. Slavery and segregation have created such a gulf between these women, that White feminists’ common assumption that all women are in the same situation with respect to sexism is difficult to understand when history so clearly tells us a different story.” (Pg. 195-196)

She states, “It would be inaccurate to assert that because feminist theology is White, it is also racist. To be White does not necessarily mean to be racist, though the behavior of Whites makes the distinction difficult. Nevertheless, my claim that feminist theology is racist is best supported by a definition of racism.… Even if some individual feminists are not racists, the movement has been so structured, and therefore takes on a racist character. In a racist society, the oppressor assumes the power of definition and control while the oppressed is objectified and perceived as a thing. As such, White women have defined the movement and presumed to do so not only for themselves but also for non-White women. They have misnamed themselves by calling themselves feminists when in fact they are White feminists, and by appealing to women’s experience when in fact they appeal almost exclusively to their own experience… [This] is to define the rules and then solicit others to play the game. It is to presume a commonality with oppressed women that oppressed women themselves do not share.” (Pg. 199-200)

She concludes, “To say that many Black women are suspicious of the feminist movement, then, is to speak mildly about their responses to it. Put succinctly, women of the dominant culture are perceived as the enemy. Like their social, sexual and political White male partners, they have as their primary goal the suppression, if not oppression, of the Black race and the advancement of the dominant culture. Because of this perception, many believe that Black feminism is a contradiction in terms.” (Pg. 201)

She concludes, “I believe that Black women should take seriously the feminist analysis, but they should not allow themselves to be coopted on behalf of the agendas of White women, for… they are often racist unintentionally or by intention. The first challenge, therefore, is to Black women… womanists must investigate the relationship between the oppression of women and theological symbolism… this Christ, found in the experiences of Black women, is a Black woman… Christ challenges us to ask new questions demanded by the context in which we find ourselves. The second challenge for Black women is that we must explore more deeply the question of what Christ means in a society in which class distinctions are increasing… The third and final challenge for Black women is to do constructive Christology. This Christology must be a liberating one, for both the Black women’s community and the larger Black community. A Christology which negates Black male humanity is still destructive to the Black community… The task of Black women, then, is constructive.” (Pg. 218-222)

This book will be “must reading” for anyone seriously studying Womanism, Feminist Theology, Black Theology, or African-American Studies.

[Nikki Mcgee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Grant builds a persuasive case for the need for a Womanist Christology. She carefully builds the feminist argument that theology has presented itself as representing humans when in fact it often represents men. She then accuses feminism of claiming to represent women but actually only representing white women and so an additional Christology is needed.

At times this is a difficult read, especially if like me you struggle with Barth. I did appreciate how Grant helped me understand more fully the feminist and womanist theologians I felt I already knew. I also discovered new feminist thinkers that I can use with my students such as Virginia Mollenkott. She also lays down challenges for womanist theologians such as not demonising black men and acknowledging class.

It did feel like a lot of the book was building up to her conclusion and then it ended very quickly. I wanted to know more about Grant’s understanding of Jesus.

[Emily O. · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a valuable, both broad and in-depth survey of feminism and feminist theology. However, I do wish her discussion of womanist theology was more in-depth, as she only began discussing it in the last chapter.

[Mollie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Used this to write a research paper on womanism hermeneutics, and it was the one source I kept going back to over and over again. So much rich wisdom to learn from.

[Hank · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a solid overview of feminist perspectives on Christology, and I recommend those chapters. However, the author does little to actually demonstrate that "womanist" is anything other than "feminist" and "liberation" together, and she makes the claim numerous times. She gives no examples or experiences to demonstrate the unique dimensions of "womanist" that could not also be described as "liberation feminist."

[Pat Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book.

[Rod · Rating 5 out of 5]

Talk about an in-depth study! Grant goes through the Creeds, evangelicalism, feminism, and liberation theologies. A must read to dialogue with Womanist God-talk.

[Erin Grasse · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most intriguing and convicting and vindicating books I've read in a very long time.

[Shannon T.L. · Rating 3 out of 5]

a decent book. i think her ending analysis could have been longer and more in-depth.