Perhaps some of you have heard or read of Luther’s theology on the Christian in the world and his idea of the dual kingdoms of church and state. I’ve come to believe that a Christian woman in academe is embedded in more than a duality of kingdoms, but a plurality.
The most glaring difference between the theological quest of white women and black women is the fact that black women are dealing with three levels of oppression (racism, sexism, and classism) while the white women’s struggle with oppression can be one dimensional: fighting the Victorian model of the weak (even pampered) woman who can’t do anything for herself.
Yes, God is our Father. That's what Jesus called God: "Abba, Father." That is how Jesus taught us to pray: "Our Father." We rejoice that God is merciful and forgiving, "like a father who runs to welcome the prodigal home." But God's also "like a mother who will not forsake her nursing child."
A study of curricula across 15 evangelical seminaries and of material from the Evangelical Theological Society reveals an almost total absence of women's history, meaning male leaders can rise to high levels while never being exposed to the countless ways women have impacted history and theology.
Anatomy of a Schism is unlike any other book about a church split. Most narratives of a split revolve around a theological or moral interpretation that becomes so difficult to walk together in that the only logical conclusion is to walk apart. What’s often lost in these narratives is the individual stories of people who experienced and dialoged about the schism as it was happening. In many instances, we can watch a news segment about a church split which may give an overview of what happened and inform the viewer that the once unified congregation will now be meeting in part at the park district and in part at the library. Rarely, do you hear the news anchor inform their audience about how the schism affected nine year-old Susan or ten year-old Jack.
There is a considerable lack of clarity at both the popular and scholarly levels about exactly what evangelical feminists stand for vis à vis the standard platforms of conservative Protestantism on the one hand, and secular feminism on the other.
If someone were to call me a feminist in the true definition of the word, I would proudly accept the title. I believe in the social, political, and – more importantly – the biblically-based equality of all in Christ. But I can not accept the title of feminist because of what it seems to have become in the minds of the secular world and, unfortunately, in the minds of many Christians.
Biblical feminists see feminism not only as a social-justice issue but also as an issue of religious freedom. To the goals of political, economic, and societal equality of the sexes, biblical feminists add religious equality. Thus biblical feminists bring the whole scope of Scripture to bear upon discrimination against women.