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Kwok Pui-lan, Introducing Asian Feminist
Theology, Pilgrim, 2000, ch.6, pp79-97.
Our christologies are not only interpretations of Jesus, but
confessions of our faith in this Jesus who has made a difference in our lives,
and not only as a speculative activity, but as active engagement in striving
towards the full humanity Jesus came to bring.
Virginia Fabella (Philippines)
'Who do you say that I am?' Each generation must answer
this question in their own time. For Christian women in Asia, this question
brings into sharp focus the issues of Christian identity, gospel and culture,
sin and redemption and the nature of the Christian movement. Asian feminist
theologians must assess critically the images of Christ promulgated by
missionaries during the colonial era. For example, the myth of the uniqueness
of Jesus Christ fuels Christian triumphalism and exclusivity. Living closely
among non-Christians in most Asian countries, Asian feminist theologians
reformulate their christological understanding taking into consideration
interactions with people of other faiths. A critical dialogue is sought between
the Christian understanding of Christ and other soteriological motifs found
within their cultures and histories.
Since most Asian countries were colonies of Western
powers, the influences of colonization on Christology must be subject to close
scrutiny. During the colonial period, the Christ figure was invariably
interpreted through a Western lens and forced upon the colonized peoples
without paying any attention to their social predicament or seeking to enter
into a dialogue with their indigenous traditions. The debate on whether Jesus
was fully human or divine has little meaning in some cultural and linguistic
contexts. The message of salvation, if concerned primarily with redeeming
individual souls and life after death, has little relevance in an Asia plagued
by issues of survival under foreign domination. Even today, Christianity is
still seen as a foreign religion by the majority of Asians, largely because of
this 'Western captivity' of Christianity.
Moreover, the images of Christ, proclaimed during
colonial times justified the domination of the oppressors. For example, the
suffering and death of Jesus was glorified and his silent endurance held up as
a model to be followed. Jesus as the suffering servant was used to inculcate
submission and obedience among the subjugated. Another image was that of Jesus
as Lord, which had political as well as religious overtones. The belief that
Jesus is the Lord of the universe justified the domination of other peoples and
their lands for Christ's sake. The lordship of a male Christ not only
undergirded colonialism, but lent its support to patriarchal dominance in the
church and society as well. As Korean theologian Kim Yong Bock has noted,
Christ came as the conqueror and crusader of the 'pagans' and 'heathens' during
Western expansion, and later as 'promoter of Western capitalism', and as
'transmitter of Western civilization'. Such a Christ has very little to do with
the suffering and struggling peoples of Asia (Kim 1990: 14).
In their quest for a new understanding of Christology,
Asian feminist theologians have challenged the language, models and frameworks
used by Western theologians, especially by the male elites. They have reclaimed
their cultural roots and experimented with different images and metaphors for
Christ, using idioms and language from their own contexts. They exhibit
creativity and freedom in their theological imagination, not limited by the
parameters set by Western debates. At the same time, they are not blind to the
patriarchal elements in their indigenous cultures, and look especially toward
women's popular religion as resources. They attempt to lift up women's vision
of hope and aspiration for themselves, their communities and the planet earth.
Asian feminist theologians find that they have to
reinterpret sin and redemption anew in the contemporary context. The
traditional emphasis on the individual and spiritual dimension of sin proves to
be less than helpful for women. Women are not just sinners; they are the
sinned against too. Many Asian women suffer as outcasts of their
society, not because of any innate human depravity or moral deficiency, but
because of the social and institutional violence that dehumanizes and
marginalizes them. A new understanding of sin must reflect the socio-political
and the religio-cultural realities. Furthermore, as Valerie Saiving and other
feminist theologians have pointed out, defining sin as pride, egotism and
sexual aggression betrays an androcentric bias, because such characteristics
are more likely to be displayed by men in a patriarchal society. The sins of
women are more likely to be passivity, the lack of a strong ego, acquiescence,
sloth and accepting fate as their lot (Goldstein:1960: 100-12).
Redemption comprises, therefore, not only personal and
spiritual reconciliation with God, but also liberation from bondage, the
opportunity to develop one's potential, the well-being of one's family and
community, the freedom from warfare and other forms of violence, the
availibility of a life-sustaining eco-system and a sense of hope and security
for the future. As we have seen in previous chapters, Lee Oo Chung uses the
biblical term shalom to describe this state of well-being, while
Mananzan has called it total liberation, in which women's liberation is
an integral part. Gnanadason uses the ecological language of respect for life
and a wholistic vision of interdependence to articulate her hope.
How do the death and resurrection of Christ fit into
this historical and ecological drama of redemption? Are the different theories
of atonement in Western Christianity relevant here? One controversial issue is
how to interpret the suffering of Jesus on the cross. African-American
theologian Delores Williams suggests that the image of the body of Jesus
dripping blood is not helpful for black women because it glorifies unjust
suffering. Jesus as the surrogate victim who suffers for humanity evokes
painful memories of black women who were often coerced into surrogate roles
during slavery and even after emancipation. The cross, used to justify slavery
and genocide, must be confronted as a symbol of evil, and what is redemptive is
not Jesus1 death, but his life and prophetic ministry (Williams
1991: 1-14).
Still, from within the complex context of Asia, the
suffering of Jesus must be seen in a nuanced and multilayered way. Asian
feminist theologians do not condone innocent suffering and sacrifice. They are
against all forms of religious ideology—whether within Christianity or
their indigenous traditions—that inflicts senseless suffering because of
social injustice. On the other hand, they recognize that the language of
suffering is powerful and profound in the traditions of Asia, and it must be
interpreted with reference to their various cultural milieu. In cultures shaped
by Buddhism, for example, suffering is seen as inevitable in human existence.
The fact that Jesus suffers shows that he is fully human, a co-sufferer with
humanity. Jesus does not belong to the oppressors; he is one of the minjung
(the masses). Many Christian women in Asia identify with such a
compassionate God who suffers in solidarity with them, listens to their cries
and responds to their pleas.
But just as the Buddhist acknowledgment of suffering as inevitable has
the danger, when misunderstood, of encouraging passive submission to one's
fate, the Christian glorification of Jesus' innocent suffering has the danger
of condoning victimization, of finding scapegoats and of accepting sacrifice as
salvific. The task for Asian feminist theologians is to find ways to speak of
suffering that respect Asian women's religiosity, while pointing out that
suffering is not their lot, because suffering can be transformed. Jesus'
resurrection transforms death and suffering, and Jesus' life and ministry bear
witness to his commitment to justice and the welfare of the marginalized.
Approaches to Christology
Since the religious, cultural and political contexts of
the Asian feminist theologians are so diverse, their approaches to Christology
vary widely. To illustrate the richness of the feminist theological imagination
and to highlight the influences of context on reconstruction of Christology, I
shall discuss four representative approaches from the Filipino, Korean, Chinese
and Indian contexts. Nevertheless, these four approaches do not exhaust the
many possibilities for feminist reflections on Christ in Asia; for within each
cultural context, a plurality of voices arise. The following examples have been
selected to demonstrate some innovative attempts at dialogue between Christian
faith and Asian indigenous traditions and social contexts.
Jesus as a Fully Liberated Human Being
The Philippine islands were colonized by Spain for more
than 300 years and by the United States for about 50 years. Since independence,
the Filipino people have struggled both against neocolonialism and against the
lengthy dictatorial rule of the Marco regime. Filipino feminist theology
emerged out of involvement in political movements during the 1970s, especially
in the people's power movement, which brought Cory Aquino to power in 1986.
With a Christian population of 92 percent, the Philippines shares commonalities
politically and culturally with Latin American countries more than with other
Asian nations. Not surprisingly, Latin American liberation theology, developing
out of the long struggles against colonialism and the misguided development
programs dictated by American capitalism, captures the theological imagination
of progressive Filipino theologians. Several leading Filipino feminist
theolgians speak of Jesus as the liberator, or Jesus as a fully liberated
human.
Mary John Mananzan has outlined the emerging methodology
developed by EATWOT Women's Commission, which is helpful to understand feminist
theology in the Philippines. The starting point is contextualization, which
highlights the experience of Asian women and their struggle in a patriarchal
world. Women must then engage in religious and cultural critique, exposing the
elements that perpetuate women's subordination. This is followed by the
recovery of the authentic value of women's experience, especially their
religious heritage, while rejecting imposed traditions. As women bring their
traditions to bear on the critical issues they face, a reinterpretation and
reformulation is necessary to find new language, symbols and religious forms
with which to respond to the historical moment. The last step is envisioning
new possibilities for the community and devising action to fulfill these
possibilities (Mananzan 1992: 93).
Filipino feminist theologians began their christological
search by analyzing women's situations and the ways women are influenced by
popular religiosity. Mananzan notes that Spanish religiosity and its Mexican
adaptation decisively influence the images of Christ in the Philippines. The
traditional Spanish Christ is rather docetic with little connection to real
life, a Christ that leaps from the infant Christ to the Christ on the cross.
During the period of Spanish colonization, the image of the suffering Christ
was highlighted, with an annual procession during Holy Week, the reading of the
Passion narrative and the re-enactment of the suffering and death of Christ.
The festivities were meant to inculcate loyalty to Spain and to the Church, and
to preach a passive acceptance of events in this world, looking for reward and
salvation in the afterlife. While Good Friday was dramatized, there was no
concomitant celebration of Easter, the beginning of new life (Mananzan 1993:
87-88). By emphasizing the mortal suffering of a beaten, scourged and defeated
Christ as well as a spiritualized salvation in the other world, the Christian
message was used to legitimize the colonial order by pacifying the people.
Reinterpreting Jesus' suffering is crucial for Filipino
feminist theology since many Filipino women have internalized the fact that the
crucified Jesus understands their suffering, which they passively and
resignedly endure (Fabella and Park 1989: 10). One strategy is to reclaim the
subversive aspects of the Passion story in the people's revolutionary
movements. Mananzan observes that even when the Spanish colonizers used the
Passion narrative as a tool of oppression, Filipino people drew from it much of
the language of anti-colonialism in the late nineteenth century. The suffering,
death and resurrection of Jesus, and the day of judgment inspired the
millennial beliefs that enabled the peasantry to take action for their
liberation. Suffering is neither the end nor salvific by itself, for there is
judgment and resurrection as promised by God (Mananzan 1993: 87-88). Another
strategy is to distinguish between the 'passive' and 'active' moments of Jesus'
suffering. Lydia Lascano, a community organizer, identifies women's oppression
under colonialism, militarism and patriarchy with Jesus' passive suffering. But
what is more important is Jesus' active suffering, which is his presence in
Filipino women's struggle for justice, accompanying and identifying with them
in their march to freedom (Lascano 1985: 121-29). The image of the suffering
servant, therefore, should not be used to justify the victimization of women
and to condone unjust suffering.
Filipino feminist theologians' images of Christ are not
static, but change over time, as their political and feminist consciousness
deepens. For example, Mananzan notes that her own image of Christ has changed
from the gentle Jesus in her novitiate days, to the angry Christ when she first
participated in worker's struggles, and to Jesus as the fully liberated and
liberating human being when she became more deeply involved in social struggles
(Mananzan 1988:12-13). Virginia Fabella, too, is inspired by the liberating
Christ:
In the light of Asian women's reality in general, a
liberational, hope- filled, love-inspired, and praxis-oriented christology is
what holds meaning for me. In the person and praxis of Jesus are found the
grounds of our liberation from all oppression and discrimination: whether
political or economic, religious or cultural, or based on gender, race or
ethnicity. Therefore the image of Jesus as liberator is consistent with my
christology (Fabella and Park 1989: 10).
There are several dimensions to Filipino feminist
theologians' understanding of Jesus as a fully liberated human being. First,
the accent is on Jesus' life and ministry, and not so much on his death and
passion. During his life time, Jesus befriended the underdogs of society and
challenged both the Jewish religious authorities and the Roman leadership. He
displayed a remarkably considerate attitude toward women and treated them with
respect. Several times in his life, he transgressed religious and ethnic
boundaries, extending his ministry to people such as the Samaritan woman and
the Syrophoenician woman. Second, Jesus' central message is the kingdom of God,
a reign of peace and justice that is meant for everyone. Women as well as men
have a place in God's reign. To enter the kingdom, one must repent and change
one's way of living and behaving (Fabella and Park 1989: 5-6). Third, Jesus was
imbued with an inner freedom that liberated him from the yoke of material
things, from an oppressive bondage to the Law, and from the undue influence of
respect for human authorities (Mananzan 1988: 13). Fourth, Jesus' passion must
be proclaimed together with the promise of Easter. Jesus is not the
eschatological prophet whose mission fails, for his death is not a failure but
fulfillment. For Fabella, Jesus' death reveals the deepest meaning of God's
profound love for humankind and Jesus' whole life is a disclosure of God. For
Mananzan, the experience of resurrection is the experience of the fully
liberated Christ, which is itself liberating. The fully liberated Christ
empowers people to have the courage to struggle in the face of danger and
insecurity (Mananzan 1988: 15; Fabella and Park 1989: 7-8).
Mananzan, Fabella and other Asian feminist theologians
are not concerned that Jesus, the fully liberated human being, is a male
figure. While some Western feminist theologians have questioned whether a male
savior can save women (Ruether 1983: 116-38), Asian feminist theologians are
not thus preoccupied. As Fabella has pointed out, the maleness of Jesus is a
historical accident rather than an ontological necessity in the liberation
process (Fabella and Oduyoye 1988: 113). Jesus liberates both men and women. In
fact, Fabella believes that Jesus has shown in his ministry a new possibility
for treating women with dignity. 'By being male Jesus could repudiate more
effectively the male definition of humanity and show the way to a right and
just male-female relationship, challenging both men and women to change their
life pattern' (unpublished paper quoted in Mananzan 1988: 14).
While the image of Christ as a fully liberated human
being may hold promise in the predominantly Christian context of the
Philippines, other cultures hold other role models or patterns for a truly
humanized person, such as Confucius or Gandhi. It may be helpful in the future
to compare these various patterns and to lift up female role models as well.
Furthermore, Latin American liberation theology has undergone a process of
self-scrutiny in the light of the transformation of the former Soviet Union and
Eastern Europe. The commitment to the poor is reaffirmed, but the promise of
the socialist analysis and the strategies for liberation need to be updated
under current circumstances. Filipino theology in general, and Filipino
feminist theology in particular, need to re-examine their own frameworks of
analysis. Future christological attempts need to make greater use of women's
religious heritage in precolonial times as well as liberating elements in
women's popular religiosity to find new symbols and language.
Jesus as a Priest of Han
The Korean context is quite different from that of the
Philippines. Korea has never been colonized by a Western power, and
Christianity did not arrive on the Korean shore with gunboats and canons.
Instead, Korea, culturally and politically dominated by China for centuries,
was colonized by Japan in the first half of the twentieth century. Korean
feminist theologians have criticized Confucianism, Buddhism and Christianity as
imported religions maintained by male elites, scholars, monks and priests, who
help to sustain the patriarchal order in society. They have turned to
shaminism, an ancient indigenous tradition that is still very influential
today, for resources in constructing Christology. The majority of those who
consult shamans are women, and female shamans exercise leadership and perform
important healing roles.
In a recent article on 'Asian Christologies and People's
Religions', Chung Hyun Kyung argues that theologians should shift their focus
from institutional religions to people's religions, such as shamanism (1996:
214-27). She points out that institutional dogmatic religions are usually
male-centered, power greedy and authoritarian, while people's religions are
concrete expressions of their living faith and daily struggles. Yet she also
cautions that not all elements in people's religions are liberating for women.
Women are both agents changing popular religions as well as victims oppressed
by these traditions. Thus, one should avoid romanticizing people's religions,
while critically discerning their liberating as well as enslaving aspects.
Chung suggests four steps in constructing Christology,
taking seriously the context of people's religions. The first step involves
listening to people's stories of hunger, impoverishment and need. This means we
should commit ourselves to the people's struggles as the beginning point of the
process. The second step is a socio-political and religio-cultural analysis of
why people are hungry and their lives diminished. In particular, this leads to
a criticism of Christianity in terms of its relationship to colonialism and
neocolonialism as well as a recognition of the debilitating elements in
inherited cultures and religions. The third step involves the search for
life-giving fragments and traditions. Inspired by Korean minjung
theology developed in the 1970s during the people's movement against
dictatorial regimes, Chung suggests the possibility of finding new life
affirming meanings through the convergences of the Jesus story and the stories
of the people. This means that we pay attention to a 'non-Christian reading of
Jesus' in order to expand our theological horizons. But to truly appreciate the
people's stories, we must live in solidarity with the poor and participate in
grassroots movements. This step requires profound humility and metanoia
(conversion) of Christians, who often assume that they alone know all the
answers and true wisdom. The final step involves actively building communities
of resistance and hope to sustain the struggle over the long haul and interpret
Scripture and tradition from the perspective of the disfranchised.
Chung's methodology radically differs from traditional
approaches to theology in several ways. She suggests we listen to the people,
instead of turning to Scripture and dogma as our primary data and resource. She
is not preoccupied with past christological debates when they are not relevant
to the poor and suffering people of Asia in their struggle for the fullness of
life. She envisages the theological endeavor, not as a lonely business, but as
a collective activity, rooted in the integration of theory and praxis. Most
importantly, she attempts to break free from the narrow parameters set by
institutional constraints, while constantly creating new possibilities and
seeking wider horizons.
Chung's four steps provide us with a framework to
understand the process through which she and other Korean feminist theologians
develop their Christology. Chung emphasizes the narrative nature of theology
and women's storytelling: 'The power of storytelling lies in its embodied
truth. Women talked about their concrete, historical life experience and
not about abstract, metaphysical concepts' (Chung 1990: 104). From these
stories of the women and other oppressed people emerges a powerful notion,
han, that has become central to Korean minjung theology. Han
is a Korean word that expresses the deep feeling that arises out of the
experience of injustice. According to Kang Nam Soon, han designates the
psychological phenomenon of people's suffering and is a feeling of the
hopelessness of the oppressed, a feeling of just indignation, or a feeling of
unresolved resentment against unjustifiable suffering' (Kang 1996: 134). She
further observes that while the han of rinjung arises out of
socio-political and economic oppression, the han of women mainly arises
out of rigid sexual discriminations in Korean society.
When they are ridden with han, Korean women seek
the help of shamans, the majority of whom are women from the lower-classes. The
Korean shaman is a priest of han: through her powerful dances and
rituals, she exorcizes han and restores the person's health, strength
and hope. The release of han is called han-pu-ri, which usually
involves three important steps: allowing the han-ridden person to speak
and be heard, naming the sources of oppression and actively changing the unjust
situation so that the person can have peace (Chung 1989: 143). While shamans
usually deal with personal han and individual relief, those involved in
political movements are rediscovering the potentials of shamanism to heal
collective han and to channel the recovered energy for liberation.
Shamanism, as a religion dealing with han, has
been condemned by missionaries as animistic and superstitious and despised by
educated and Westernized Korean elites. But this women-centered religious
stratum provides the language, the ritualistic practice and the imagination for
some Korean feminists to describe their Christian experiences. In bringing the
people's story and the Jesus story together, Chung speaks of han and
han-pu-ri, instead of sin and salvation. Whereas sin connotes wrongdoing
for which one is responsible, han captures the feeling of being
sinned against, the helplessness of those who often cannot even control
their own destiny. The dispersal of accumulated han, both personal and
collective, restores the health and well-being of the individual and the
community. Thus, Chung uses han-pu-ri to interpret Jesus' power to free
others from injustice and suffering (Chung 1989: 145).
Among the pluralistic christological images proposed by
Korean feminist theologians, Jesus is seen by some as a priest of han, a
shaman who consoles the broken-hearted, heals the afflicted and restores
wholeness through communication with the spirits. Korean women can relate to
many stories in the gospels where Jesus' role resembles that of a shaman,
exorcizing demons and healing the sick. Chung observes that: ‘As the
Korean shaman has been a healer, comforter, and counselor for Korean women,
Jesus Christ healed and comforted women in his ministry' (Chung 1990: 66).
Since the majority of their shamans are female, Chung states that Korean women
connect more easily with female images of the Christ.
A female Christ is proposed also by Choi Man Ja,
although not in a shamanistic context (Choi 1989: 174-80). Choi makes a
distinction between the person of the Messiah and the praxis of messiahship.
For her, messiah-praxis consists of Jesus' suffering as an outcast and his
struggle to overcome oppression. Korean women, likewise, participate in the
praxis of messiahship and are true disciples of Jesus. In other words, Korean
women who are han-ridden and engage in han-pu-ri are 'the true
praxis of messiah-Jesus'. Korean feminist theologians not only propose a female
Christ, they have also organized a Women Church in Seoul, with a woman as
priest and employing their own liturgies.
Although Jesus as a priest of han has been
mentioned in several articles, Korean feminist theologians have not yet fully
developed the notion. Future reflection needs to pay attention to the
oppressive aspects of shamanism, such as its appropriation of the patriarchal
elements of imported religions and its over-emphasis on the personal dimension
of han (Lee 1994: 4-5). While han is a powerful term, Korean
feminists debate whether women's han is different from men's as well as
the appropriate strategies for exorcism. The reinterpretation of Jesus through
the lens of shamanism requires a more in-depth biblical and historical
exploration. Contemporary scholarship on the historical Jesus can shed much
light on Jesus as a healer and a spirit-filled person. A more detailed
exposition of the relationship between Jesus' life, ministry, and death and
han-pu-ri needs to be spelled out. Moreover, what will be the impact of
Jesus as the priest of han and other christological images developed by
feminist theologians on the Korean churches, the majority of which are
evangelical and conservative?
An Organic Model for Christology
Christianity has been brought into interaction with
Chinese culture for many centuries, but the Christian population in China never
exceeded one per cent until very recently. Moreover, there have been vehement
anti-Christian movements in both the nineteenth and the early twentieth
centuries. As a Chinese feminist theologian, I need to pay attention to the
non-Christian perceptions of Christ among the Chinese before I reconstruct
Christology. In recent years, I have explored christological images as a
response to the growing ecological crises in China and other parts of Asia and
as an attempt to dialogue with Chinese religions.
Because their millennia-old civilization has used
characters (ideograms) for writing, the Chinese people have a linguistic
structure, thought pattern and worldview different from that in the West. The
Christ figure, interpreted as the savior of humankind redeeming believers from
sin and depravity, is quite foreign to Chinese thinking. Chinese culture has no
equivalent concept of sin understood as human depravity in a religious sense,
but it does include the concept of shame or guilt in a social sense. Moreover,
Confucianism teaches that through studying the Chinese classics,
self-cultivation and developing one's moral faculty, human beings can achieve
moral perfection and sagehood. Likewise, Mahayana Buddhism, also influential in
Chinese culture, emphasizes the capacity of all human beings to attain
Buddhahood and the possibility of enlightenment (Kwok 1993: 24-32).
Some of the christological debates that have plagued the Christian West
for centuries have little meaning in another cultural and linguistic medium.
For example, the Chalcedonian controversy of whether Jesus is fully human or
divine would not have taken place in China, which has a different philosophical
system. The Chinese language has no verb, 'to be' and has no equivalent word to
convey the concept of being or essence. Thus, the debate on homoousia or
homoiousia (whether the Son has the same substance with the Father or
not) would be quite irrelevant to the Chinese people. Furthermore, the
suffering of the Son on the cross to save the world is unintelligible to the
average Chinese. In Confucianism, to have a son to continue the family line is
a cardinal responsibility. That the Father would demand the death of the Son as
a ransom or as a sacrifice would be unthinkable in the Confucian symbolic
structure. Jesus as the sacrificial lamb is comprehensible only in the context
of Jewish interpretation of sacrifice and atonement. For the Chinese, a
gruesome disfigured Jesus on the cross suggests bad karma, disturbing the
sensibility of harmony, peace and serenity in Chinese religiosity.
To develop a feminist ecological model for Christology,
we have to break through familiar images of Christ and dare to use non-human
metaphors The nexus of sin and redemption must be rethought for sin is more
than the disobedience or egotism of human beings, but has a cosmological
dimension as well. People who live in traditional cultures as well as
indigenous peoples know intimately that their actions have bearings on the
natural environment, and not just on human history. An ecological Christology
will point to a vision of ecojustice for both humans and nature and welcome the
contributions of other religions and traditions.
Moreover, christological understandings that easily lend
support to any forms of political and cultural imperialism must be debunked.
The militaristic and triumphant character of Christ during the Crusades and
Western expansion demonstrates how easily a religious symbol can be coopted for
political purposes. During the missionary movement, the christological images
missionaries fervently preached about were those that justified Western
political domination. Finally, the notion that Jesus is unique, particular, and
the only way to God must be demystified. Such an exclusive understanding of
Christ elevates Christianity above all other religions, and has been used to
justify conquest, colonization and even genocide.
When we examine the plurality of images of Jesus in the
New Testament, there are ample sources to reconstruct christologies using an
organic model (Kwok 1997: 113-25). Jesus uses the metaphor of the vine and the
branches to describe his relationship with the disciples (Jn 15.5). He refers
to himself as the bread of life and the living water. He also uses the feminine
metaphor of a hen protecting her brood to describe his passion and anguish for
Jerusalem (Mt, 23.37). Coming from a peasant background, Jesus frequently
employs examples drawn from nature in his parables and teachings. For example,
God takes care of the swallows and lilies in the field. The sun shines on both
the good and the bad. His nature sayings stress the universal love and
provision of God. One important aspect of his ministry is sharing table
fellowship with the people around him, even those who are despised, including
tax collectors and sinners. The messianic kingdom is referred to as a banquet
open to all. Jesus cares whether people have food to eat or not, as his feeding
the five thousand and other miracles clearly show. He has a profound
understanding of ecojustice and challenges the Syrophoenician woman who belongs
to the Greek-speaking urban class for exploiting the rural Galilee hinterland
(Mk 7.24-30).
Besides recovering Jesus' organic metaphors to describe
himself and the kingdom of God, another approach is to explore the image of
Jesus as the wisdom of God. Feminist theologians Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza
and Elizabeth A. Johnson have written on Jesus as Sophia-God (Schussler
Fiorenza 1994; Johnson 1993: 95-117). By the end of the first century, Jesus
was seen not only as a wisdom teacher or as a prophet of Sophia, but as the
incarnation of Sophia herself. The wisdom tradition in the Hebrew Bible
highlights Wisdom's creative agency, providential power, redeeming capacity,
immanence, and the promise of shalom, salvation and justice. Although the
wisdom writings have not been accorded the same importance as the historical
and prophetic books in the Bible, feminist theologians are recovering the
cosmological emphasis in the wisdom tradition to address issues in ecological
crises. Johnson, for example, writes: 'The use of wisdom categories to
interpret Jesus had profound consequences. It enabled the fledgling Christian
communities to attribute cosmic significance to the crucified Jesus, relating
time to the creation and governance of the world' (Johnson 1993: 105).
It is important to note that the wisdom tradition has a
broad, universal outlook on human history and is not so tied to the history and
salvation of Israel alone. Jesus, seen as a wisdom teacher or as the
personification of Sophia, creates new possibilities for dialogue with other
ancient wisdom traditions in Asia. For example, Jesus' nature sayings in the
gospels can be compared to the teachings in Confucianism that use natural
symbols, such as the plant and the gardener, the cycle of seasons, and the
stream and the water. Among the various images portrayed by contemporary Jesus
studies is that of a sage, teaching subversive wisdom through proverbs,
parables and aphorisms. The figure of the sage or teacher rings a bell in the
Asian mind, much more so than the figures of the Messiah, the priest or the
suffering servant. Although most of the Asian sages are male, such as Confucius
and Gandhi, in popular Daoist and Buddhist traditions, women as well as men can
be teachers passing wisdom from generation to generation. Jesus' teachings on
ecojustice and his relations with the earth community around him can be
compared to the cosmological teachings of the Asian sages.
Furthermore, an organic model of Christology relativizes the
significance of Jesus as the revelation of God in a finite, historically
specific, human form. Jesus, as the epiphany of God, is but one
manifestation or revelation of the divine. The notion of an epiphanic Christ
allows us to entertain the possibility of encountering Christ in many other
ways: in other human beings, in nature, and in God's whole universe. This does
not minimize the importance of the revelation of God in Jesus, because his life
and ministry is paradigmatic for many Christians. But the incarnation of God
can be also seen in both male and female salvific figures in other peoples'
histories, who display great wisdom and compassion, and in forms of existence
other than human, exceeding our shallow anthropocentrism. As I have written
elsewhere:
The Buddhist tradition asserts there is not one Buddha,
but many Buddhas, and that everyone has the potential to attain Buddhahood. If
we get away from the framework defined by a language of substance, we will not
be fixated on a one-time incarnation. If we follow a non-dualistic logic, we
can embrace the concept that Christ is one and many (Kwok 1997: 123).
To summarize, an organic model of Christology explores
the implications of organic and natural metaphors for Christ, rediscovers the
potential of wisdom Christology, and proposes to see Jesus as one ephiphany of
God. It accents Jesus' teachings about right living, his relation with the
natural environment and other human beings, his subversive wisdom on
ecojustice, and his promise of God's compassion for all humankind. His death
and passion are not singled out, but seen within the larger context of his
struggle for justice for all—humans and all of creation. His resurrection
can be seen as a rebirth, a regeneration that gives new hope. Sin is not so
much human depravity or disobedience, but the breaking down of the
interconnectedness of all things, threatening the web of life and the
suffocation of mother earth. Sin is the systematic and structural evil that
allows a tiny minority of the human race to use up the resources that exist for
all. Sin is the power and the principalities that work against the oppressed,
the majority of which are women and children, as well as indigenous peoples.
Sin is the absence of love and compassion. It occurs when we close our ears and
eyes to the cries of the people, the rivers and the trees. Sin is the
brokenness that drives people to despair. Salvation, therefore, entails right
relationship with one another, caring for the planet, compassion for the weaker
links in the chain of life, while constantly remembering that humans beings are
part of nature and the natural process.
Christ as the Embodiment of Feminine Principle
India is a land of vibrant spirituality, with temples
and shrines at every corner, where people can offer flowers and incense. With a
rich tradition of myths and legends, Indian people venerate a plurality of
enchanting gods and goddesses. Colonized by the British for more than 150
years, India has been struggling with cultural identity, Hindu-Muslim strife,
vast poverty and modernization since independence in 1947. Indian feminists
have to fight not only against sexual discrimination but also the caste system,
illiteracy and escalating violence against women.
The dowry system requires the bride's family to pay the
bridegroom's family a certain sum of money. Women have been beaten, mistreated
and even killed when the family fails to pay the dowry. Traditionallywomen have
been seen as the property of menand the cruel tradition of sati demanded widows
to show their loyalty to their husbands by being burned alive in the husband's
funeral pyre. Indian feminist theologians have challenged these dehumanizing
customs and expressed concerns over the plight of dalit (the untouchable)
women. Indian women, they write, have been socialized to accept violence as
their lot and self-sacrifice as virtue. Proverbs, such as 'Women, you should
not weep when you are beaten', abound in Indian culture. Silent endurance
causes women to suffer alone and to accept the curse of being born a woman.
Those who protest and dare voice their criticism bring shame upon their
families and are quickly censored and ostracized (Baltazar 1996b:57). Instead
of fighting injustice, many women helplessly accept their fate and look for
consolation in reincarnation, in the life to come.
Given this cultural matrix, it is not surprising that
Indian feminist theologians challenge the assumption that suffering is
God-given, either for the perfection of souls or for the atonement of sin.
Indian women are urged to suffer innocently for the expiatiation of the sin of
others, for the well-being of their families, and for the long life of their
husbands. Stella Baltazar, a Roman Catholic religious sister, objects to a
patriarchal God who demands the suffering of the innocent to expiate people's
sins:
According to the dominant misinterpretation, this God
demands the sacrifice of the innocent blood of the Son. God bestows wealth as a
sign of favor, and poverty as a sign of curse, and gives rewards and
punishments according to deeds. God delights in sacrifices and fasting but does
not care about human beings (Baltazar 1996b: 59-60).
Her position echoes that of Rita Nakashima Brock, a
Japanese American feminist theologian, who argues that the sacrifice of the Son
by the Father is cosmic child abuse (Brock 1988: 56), and that the image of the
innocent lamb reinforces the notion that victims ought to be innocent or
virtuous or else suffering and pain are deserved.
Rejecting the images of the suffering servant, the
silent lamb taken to slaughter, and the perfect sacrifice for the expiation of
sin, Indian feminist theologians reclaim their cultural roots for resources to
reconstruct Christology. They have attached importance to the Hindu concept of
Shakti, the feminine principle which is the life energy of the universe.
Aruna Gnanadason explains the meaning of Shakti as:
the dynamic energy, which is the source and substance
of all things, pervading everything. The manifestation of this primordial
energy is called Prakriti (nature). Nature, both animate and inanimate,
is thus an expression of Shakti, the feminine and creative principle of
the cosmos; in conjunction with the masculine principle (Purusha), Prakriti
creates the world (Gnanadason 1996: 75).
The concept of Shakti, the feminine and creative
principle of the universe, is popularized by the writings of Indian
eco-feminist Vandana Shiva. In Staying Alive, Shiva condemns modern
science as a male project and development programs as the brain-children of
Western patriarchy, leading to the death of the feminine principle. Citing
statistics and field research, she argues persuasively that the degradation of
women and the degradation of nature are intimately linked. She points to an
alternative path for the survival of nature, women and men; and that path is
characterized by honoring nature, sustainability and diversity. This is in
sharp contrast to exploitation, consumption and surplus in capitalist
patriarchy. For her, the feminine principle, or Shakti, is characterized
by a harmonious relation between humans and nature, men and women, and the
respect for diversity and the sharing of resources. Shiva celebrates the close
links of nature and women as producers of life, and credits Third World women
with playing an important role in providing sustenance for their families even
under dire conditions. In recovering the chances for the survival of all life,
she says, they are laying the foundations for the recovery of the feminine
principle in nature and society and the recovery of earth as sustainer and
provider (Shiva 1989).
In an attempt to reinterpret Christian faith through
their religious heritage, Baltazar proposes seeing Jesus as an embodiment of
Shakti:
The question for us is not to make Jesus become a woman.
Rather, the transcended Christ can be the embodiment of the feminine principle,
the Shakti, the energizer and vitalizer. It is a serious limitation to express
the resurrected Christ in purely male or patriarchal terms. Only women can
liberate him from this gross limitation. With his bodily death the maleness of
Christ, too, dies. The risen Christ must be liberated from the violent male
language, and this only women can do. Drawing from indigenous and primal
religions, we need, to make the resurrection of Christ become actual in our
culture. In this way Indian culture, too, will experience a transformation by
making alive an Indian cosmology of wholeness and interconnectedness which is
truly the liberative potential of the cosmic Christ (Baltazar 1996: 64).
The embodiment of a principle in both female and male
form does not seem to create difficulty in the Indian context. Avalokitesvara,
the popular bodhisattva of compassion is venerated as a male figure in India,
but called the Goddess of Mercy and assumes a female form in East Asia. There
is also the half-female and half-male deity, Ardhanarisvara, who symbolizes
mutuality and partnership of male and female principles and the union of human
and divine. Thus, Baltazar finds it liberating to imagine God as both male and
female, father and mother at the same time: The rediscovery of the feminine
face of God ought to depict God as compassionate, life-giving, and
life-sustaining potential, as the divine mother and father'(Baltazar 1996: 65).
The use of the philosophical and popular understanding
of Shakti to interpret Christ has several advantages. It clearly links
Christology to the emergent eco-feminist spirituality among Indian feminists.
Christ, as the embodiment of Shakti, is the energizing force for harmony
and inter-connectedness of the whole cosmos. Instead of using Jewish or Greek
male language to describe God, feminist theologians can reclaim their heritage
and cultural roots to imagine the divine. It allows fruitful conversation and
cross-fertilization among Christians such as Gnanadason and Baltazar and the
Hindu Shiva. Furthermore, it recovers the feminine dimension of the divine, who
is seen as supporting women in their struggle for freedom and humanity.
But there are cautions to the appropriation of Hindu
concepts in Christian feminism. Indian male theologians have long tried to
interpret Christian faith through the lens of Hinduism, without paying
sufficient attention to the issue of sexual discrimination in the Hindu
tradition. Feminist theologians, too, must critically examine the dualistic and
hierarchical teachings in Hinduism, especially the rituals and taboos
surrounding women. Otherwise, the recovery of the feminine principle will not
effectively help women in their current struggle. In addition, the concept of
embodiment must be fleshed out more fully. Why is it necessary for the
feminine principle to be embodied and how is the embodiment in Jesus different
from other possible embodiments? It will be interesting to compare and contrast
the notions of Jesus as incarnation of Wisdom and Jesus as embodiment of
Shakti..
The above discussion shows that Asian feminist
theologians in various contexts have presented some fascinating ideas and
approaches in their Christologies. They demonstrate that Asian Christian women
can answer Jesus' question 'Who do you say that I am?' from their own
experiences and circumstances. Some of them use anthropomorphic images to
portray Christ; others opt for natural and cosmological metaphors. The question
about the maleness of Christ does not concern them as much as in the West,
since their cultures are full of gods and goddesses and do not prescribe that
the salvific figure needs to be male. Many of them are aware of the limits of
human language and metaphors to describe God and show remarkable capacity to
hold duality together in unity—male and female, human and divine,
cosmological and historical. Baltazar states that we should not limit God to
any particular mode, because for her,
God is multiple in communion.
God is unity in
diversity.
God is universally local.
God is transcendentally immanent
(Baltazar 1996: 65).
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