Thy Kingdom Come…

In Church in the Round: Feminist Interpretation of the Church, Letty Russell sets out to identify the need for a feminist ecclesiology in the church today.  According to Letty, a feminist ecclesiology advocates for the radical inclusion of women, along with others from the margins of society, in the household of God.  Given the dominant role that patriarchal structures of church governance have played in centuries past, she contends that now is the time of decision, a kairos moment.  It is time that we call attention to the injustices of exclusion and oppression and begin to order our communities not according to privileged hierarchy, but in “kitchen table” solidarity with the marginalized.  To do so, Russell argues for a table principle that “looks for ways that God reaches out to include all those whom society and religion have declared outsiders (25).”  Such a reversal, she suggests, will undoubtedly cause the church to rethink the foundations upon which her traditions have been built, such as masculinity and hierarchy, and empower the voiceless to finally “talk back”.  When this happens, as it does in feminist communities across the world, the church at last experiences the God-given gift of diversity and recaptures the beauty of joining God in the mending of creation by fighting injustice and healing the deep wounds of systemic sin in the world.

According to Russell, feminism is not an ideology that stands against the rights of men.  Rather, feminism is an “advocacy word” (22).  It is a movement that not only awaits, but works toward the day when “every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low (Luke 3:5).”  In a world that has often been, and still is, dominated by privileged few, feminism is an ideology oriented towards the liberation of those excluded and marginalized in society.  In this sense, a feminist ecclesiology is an “advocacy theology” that speaks out on behalf of those on the underside of oppressive power structures and advocates for radical inclusivity in Christian community.  For Russell, this is not a matter of parting with tradition.  To the contrary, by way of a feminist ecclesiology, she desires to recover the central thrust of Jesus’ life (on which tradition claims to have been established) – that is, to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to captives, and let the oppressed go free (from Luke 4:18).  Of course, feminism does draw a special attention to the abuses of patriarchy and its injustices against the dignity of women.  However, to limit feminism to its advocacy for women would be a misunderstanding. 

Central to Russell’s feminist ecclesiology is the image of a household. The household of God is characterized by inclusivity and shared partnership, whereas the dominant structures of Christian tradition typically promote exclusion and uniformity.  The ultimate goal of God’s household, according to Russell, “is to do away with the margin and the center by joining the one who is at the center of life in the church but dwells on the margin where he lived and died (27).”  In order for communities to live and operate within this framework, she argues for the necessity of a “table principle”.  The table principle represents hospitality and by nature subverts the boundaries created by systems constructed on the basis of patriarchy and exclusion.  Furthermore, the table principle acknowledges the importance of choosing the margin as a place to both stand in solidarity with the oppressed and work towards reclaiming the center “in order to gain the ability to talk back (26).” 

Like liberation theology, feminist ecclesiology begins with the experience of those who find themselves on the margins of society (especially oppressed women), and constructs its theology from the paradigm of their experience.  According to Russell, “what you see depends on where you are standing (29).”  And following Jesus as the peasant Jew who gave his life to bringing “good news to the poor,” some might argue that all Christians (not only feminists) have a scriptural obligation to (re)read the Bible and tradition from the point of view of the marginalized.  From a feminist perspective, then, tradition is never understood as absolute or universal, but as always being contingent upon an ever-evolving present.  In Russell’s words, “Tradition witnesses to the presence of God in Jesus Christ and in our lives, but its meaning changes as the context of the message and the messengers change (38).”  This is precisely why the task of the church, as the body of believers called to join God in the renewal of all things, is never complete.  We must always be asking, Where are the oppressed, and how can we orient our lives around Jesus’ invitation to stand in solidarity with those on the margins?

While Russell critiques the patriarchy found in much of Christian tradition, she is not opposed to institutionalization or organized leadership.  In fact, she notes that most feminist communities are part of “well-organized networks of groups (93).”  What she and other feminists are opposed to, however, are structures and forms of leadership that favor old models of hierarchy that delegate power to the privileged.  If churches and other Christian communities are going to operate by the standards of God’s household, they must promote and facilitate shared partnership and solidarity with the poor and oppressed.  For Russell, this is non-negotiable.  The witness of the church must be rooted in a life of hospitality for all (110).  This ethic of hospitality inevitably results in radical diversity within community.  This is an important part of feminist ecclesiology.  In structures of patriarchy and exclusion, “community is deformed for the sake of uniform order (161).”  However, Christian feminist spirituality assumes that true community is not built on sameness, but out of difference (195). 

Church in the Round is a significant contribution to the study of ecclesiology.  In her work, Russell convincingly argues for a feminist understanding of the church as a community set apart by God to practice radical hospitality.  The attention she draws to the oppressive ways of patriarchal structures of hierarchy and exclusion along with her prophetic call to the church to participate with God in the mending of creation through standing in solidarity with the powerless and giving voice to the voiceless are messages we would all do well to hear.

On the other hand, the notion of inclusivity that Russell so fiercely advocates for raises questions concerning the criteria by which one is determined to be worthy of inclusion.  For instance, in the case that a male chauvinist requested a seat at Russell’s kitchen table, would he be permitted?  If so, what would be the moral standard expected of him?  And if not, what does this say about the inclusivity of that community?  My point in raising questions such as these is to bring attention to a fundamental issue I have with claims of inclusivism.  Whether or not a community holds strictly to such an ethic, there are always moral expectations.  I expect that, for Russell, determining these expectations would be a communal endeavor given her emphasis on developing contextual theologies from within communities of faith and struggle.  However, if these communities are self-identifiably feminist in orientation, to what extent do the determined moral expectations reflect the kind of diversity she promotes?  In my opinion, these questions deserve more attention than were given in Church in the Round.

Nevertheless, Russell’s work stands as a challenge to all believers to rethink both tradition and our readings of scripture in light of the experience of those on the underside of power.  It is evident that her aim is to join God in the healing and restoration of the world by standing in solidarity with not only women, but all who have been victims of systemic sin and injustice.  For this reason, her seat at the table is important.  But be careful… she just might turn your theology of the church upside down.