ESSENTIALISM IN FEMINIST THEOLOGY: IDENTITY IN NARRATIVE AND NATURE

J. M. CALLAGHAN

Précis

            Theologian Serene Jones, the first female president of Union Theological Seminary, has stated that, “assumptions about what women are, and should be, are built into our theology and practices.”^[1] A brief survey of two-thousand years of church history and the works of its theologians, reveals a tradition replete with claims about the female nature.^[2] The vast bulk of Christian literature during this time has preserved what most perceive as a subordinate view of women. Contrast this with the conviction of the complete equality of women with men, the staple of feminist thought and theology. What is less clear however is, to what degree (if any) there is a difference between the female and the male essence. Those who continue to embrace the notion that biological and non-biological differences between women and men are not just socially constructed but are somehow partially natural, generally fall under the umbrella category of “essentialists.”

As such, this paper will explore revised and newly framed formulations of essentialist theology which attempt to discard old, outdated and restrictive claims about the female essence, in favor of strategic or “pragmatic essentialism,” which provides a structure of narrative for a woman’s identity.^[3] For our purposes, this mode of essentialist speculation will be rooted in the Christian tradition and a synthesis of secular and theological thought. In this process we will examine some historical developments within feminist and gender theory that are relevant both to Christian theology and also for constructing a framework around the significance of “femaleness.” All of this will be used in an attempt to explain why many women and men still choose to embrace “universal” claims about sexed nature, which undoubtedly provides a sense of foundational narrative for our individual and communal lives.^[4]

Introductory Remarks

Christian feminists have, over the past half-century, sought to bring their respective critiques and observations regarding society and culture into critical dialogue with the disciplines of theology and biblical studies.^[5] In many respects, the general aims of secular and Christian feminists feature shared convictions about women’s equality and the need to address oppressive practices and ideas in the world at large. The immense diversity within feminist thought, however, inevitably leads to differences. These differences are more apparent for feminists who remain committed to the historic, Christian faith, because their starting point is fundamentally distinct from secular feminists. Thus, there is always a dialectical push and pull between the two. This relationship is put well in the following, “There is not only a unity of concerns between feminist and Christian voices in this journey, but also a persistent and fruitful tension between them.”^[6] Elaine Storkey provides us with a more specific label, “biblical feminists,” which describes those whose epistemological foundation begins with an acceptance of the Hebrew and Christian scriptures as somehow revelatory in nature and as “authentic communication from God.”^[7] Christian feminists who identify with some kind of biblical commitment are then, as a result, tasked with theologizing about what attention the bible gives to female existence and what it means to be a woman.

The Imago Dei that humankind reflects is on its own a subject for philosophical pontification concerning the nature of humanity. The character of the Genesis creation account is such that it predisposes the Judeo-Christian tradition towards an adherence to a doctrine of creation.^[8] What is particularly relevant is not just that humanity is formed in the image of God, but that humanity is composed of female and male individuals, who both represent God in some fashion. The following quote illuminates more precisely the ambiguity that essentialist theology might attempt to elucidate;

That we are created male and female, and that this difference plays a large part in the central human tasks of “reproduction, nurturing, survival,” is indeed “beyond critical scrutiny.” But what that fixed point of reference signifies, is by no means beyond analysis.^[9]

Feminism, Essentialism & Historical Development

            As alluded to earlier, feminist thinkers have been hesitant to embrace “difference,” as an appropriate term for the unique embodiment of men and women. Following the early women’s right’s movements, the goal of early feminism was to establish the “foundational, non negotiable premise that women and men are equal.”^[10] This expanded beyond the suffrage movement to women’s opportunities in the workplace and in society at large. During this pivotal time, many held that “equal rights and opportunities could only be grounded in the presumption that women and men share the same nature.”^[11] For there was an understandable concern about the danger of over-emphasizing or conceding to the existence of differences between men and women. More specifically, a primary concern here, was that an affirmation of a “natural female essence…potentially reinstates and reinforces the very abuses feminism intends to fight.”^[12] In short, if one granted that women possessed an essential nature or a universal set of fixed characteristics, the inevitable result would be that fixed gender roles and attributes would be ascribed to all women, thus limiting the female experience. And even if one accepted the premise that there were differences between women and men, this emphasis on difference was altogether subjective, since one could just as easily make the case that the similarities between men and women far outweigh the differences.^[13] Thus, many argued that any differences, whether actual or assumed, should be dismissed altogether so that women and men could interact as equals in daily life. But this solution was rejected by others. And so many began to argue that the answer to how the patriarchy “devalued” womanhood was “not to deny but to appreciate those differences.”^[14] Some even began to argue that ignoring difference was just as much of an issue and was another method of erasing female existence. The point here being that, “Difference and equality were never intended to be at opposite poles.”^[15]

            And so this brings us to both a divergence among feminist thinkers, but also a middle ground for others, where a “both/and” perspective was embraced.^[16] Over decades of feminist discourse, a number of theoretical impasses would emerge, highlighting some not insignificant ideological breaks. One of the first, was the sex-gender distinction made by gender theorists such as Simone de Beauvoir, which we will review shortly. The second and related juncture was the constructivist-essentialist divide. A third question, which like the previous two, remains unresolved for many, has been whether or not there is a single male-female nature or dual natures.^[17] All three of these points of contention persist in academia today and are of course deeply interrelated. Before we outline the basic critiques of essentialism, we need to delineate what exactly these criticisms are directed towards and so we will quickly define older forms of essentialism.

Pre-modern and Biological Essentialism

            The basic thrust of essentialism is the, “idea that a certain ‘essence’ defines the center of our identity as human beings and as men and women.”^[18] This has typically translated to some notion of “fixed characteristics” for both genders, which are natural.^[19] Additionally, these fixed attributes have been considered to explain why gendered roles are and should be both descriptive and prescriptive. This older or “pre-modern” essentialism is especially pertinent in a Christian context, because for most of history, and still for a great many Christians today, it has been viewed as normative for men and women. Typically, this involves defining womanhood and manhood with absolutized characteristics that are or should be true across cultural and societal lines.^[20] Traditional forms of essentialist theology almost always translate to expectations within gender roles. Examples of this in Christian praxis might include; female exclusion from the clergy, male headship in marriage and general expectations about behavior, attire and sexuality.^[21]

            Additionally, we have “biological essentialism,” which focuses on the natural differences (i.e. anatomical, physiological and hormonal etc.) between women and men and builds an essentialist paradigm in light of them.^[22] For early feminists, this form of essentialism was still an acceptable fact of life. But as we will see next, many feminist thinkers would come to reject biological essentialism as well, due to its deterministic outlook.^[23]

The Constructivist Account: A Critique of Essentialist Claims

Even before many of the historical dynamics described above had taken place, gender theorists were beginning to question the parameters of gender as a category. One of the major innovations was the sex-gender distinction, which accepted that sex was biological, but stressed that gender was social.^[24] Thus, one can see how the idea of gender being constructed rather than inherent, quickly emerged once this distinction was made. Because humans are unstable beings with inescapable mutability, change in personality always occurs over the course of one’s life. Experiences and the environmental location in which we develop clearly play roles in shaping our identity. Therefore, in constructivism, “the body (sex) is raw material on which socially constructed mores (gender) inscribe themselves.”^[25]

A number of pointed objections are then levied at essentialism and their validity should be well-taken. We’ll list just a few. Essentialism posits a “universal feminine,” which tends to be either abstract and undefinable or contingent upon the gender norms of each particular time period.^[26] Essentialism presupposes the existence of binary categories such as sex/gender, male/female and culture/nature.^[27] Likewise, feminists argue, due to concerns about a biologically based essentialism, that it “makes women’s historical subordination to men seem like a natural fact rather than a cultural product.”^[28] While by no means exhaustively representative of the criticisms essentialism has been subjected to, these points do capture some of the primary observations which have undermined the legitimacy of essentialism as it pertains to human sex and gender. One further philosophical development must be addressed before we see how a recapitulated essentialism has escaped relegation to the intellectual basement.

The Postmodern Problem

            The complex and often vague philosophical term that is “postmodernism” carries a host of meanings with it. The postmodern claims relevant to a discussion of essentialism have primarily to do with “deconstruction.” Furthermore, for postmodern thinkers, “there are no essentials, no metanarratives, no overarching explanatory formulas.”^[29] The implications of these propositions should be self-evident, especially for Christians who take the metanarrative of scripture as a frame of reference for reality. The notion of deconstruction provides another conundrum for our conceptualization of sex/gender, for postmodernists not only claim gender is constructed, but sex!^[30]

Responding to Constructivism & Postmodernism: Strategic Essentialisms

Where does this dizzying array of critiques leave someone with essentialist inclinations? One has to wonder if essentialism is even viable anymore given its historical impedimenta. Certainly among scholastics, to speak of essential female or male natures or immanence (to borrow Beauvoir’s language) or of a “basic feminine character structure,” has become uncommon, but not unheard of among feminist theorists.^[31] An inherent feminine nature is “no longer orthodox,” and for many gender theorists especially, it is a “rather heretical view.”^[32] But where there is heresy, there are also heretics and for many outside of the academic sphere, forms of essentialism are still embraced, unconsciously or consciously. While by far the minority within academia, a number of thinkers, both secular and religious, have postulated new approaches to essentialist paradigms.

The starting point for these voices is to acknowledge many of the criticisms aimed at pre-modern essentialism. There are a plethora of problems for an essentialist ideology or theology. At the same time there are some advantages, particularly from a Christian perspective. A starting point for a valuable essentialism takes place when it is a “representative metaphor entailing human agency and practice, rather than a realist retreat into a nature against which human beings are powerless.”^[33] The worry about a kind of biological destiny is evident here. As such, too much emphasis on biology’s role in gender identity should be taken into account as well as a realization that men and women share many similarities and thus it might be more helpful to focus on similarities rather than differences, depending on the context.^[34] However, the counter-response to concerns about “biology as destiny”^[35] is a concern over a total denial of differences rooted in male-female bodies. And when it comes to theorizing about the natural differentiation between women and men, an essentialist “two-nature” theory does have some advantages as explained in the following;

Drawing from the account of creation in Genesis 2, the two-nature theory emphasizes the fact that men and women have very different bodies and reproductive tasks, but also more subtle differences. Men have more testosterone, women have more estrogen…The two-nature theory seems to explain some persistent patterns in human nature…The two nature-theory also takes account of the ways biological differences shape human lives.^[36]

The single nature theory does emphasize the unity of human nature and reiterates that all faculties and abilities possessed by individuals are universal to women and men. At the same time, a shared human nature does not exhaust the unique “diversity” of embodiment for women and men. Thus, it is important to place these theories of human and sexed nature in dialectical reciprocity.^[37] But beyond biology and its role in the female identity, recovering or rethinking essentialism has come in a number of forms. For example, while most feminist essentialists would reject motherhood or “mothering” as a manifestation of essentialism since not every woman chooses to have children and some cannot biologically produce children, it is still a feature of life for the majority of women around the world both historically and presently. But to speak of motherhood is not to speak universally but rather in generality, for it is a staple of most women’s lives. And to reject a very broad truth about existence simply because it is not true for every single individual is not helpful either. Take Wittgenstein’s concept of “family resemblance,” where he noted that members from any given family can share some “resemblance” without necessarily bearing all of the same qualities. In other words, general shared traits vs universal shared traits. Wittgenstein then applied this to words or conceptual categories, noting that the word “game” can refer to many activities that are vastly different. Thus, with this in mind, the words or categories, “motherhood” or “male/female,” can refer to broad characteristics shared within a certain category without universalizing particular aspects in a determinative manner.^[38] Furthermore, even “for many radical feminists, the solution to such dichotomies lies not in women’s rejecting childbearing and child raising but rather in their regaining control of both…By retrieving motherhood on their own terms…”^[39] This “retrieval” or reclamation of certain typically “feminine” associated experiences is precisely that. However, while some feminists have encouraged women to embrace and take back certain female identities, they have rejected any claim that an identity of one woman is normative for the next and thus prefer to speak in generalities. This means that, while feminists might acknowledge women’s unique experience as a nurturer, this does not exhaust or define the lives of all women, nor does it imply that men are any less capable of nurturing qualities. Thus as with feminist thinkers like Luce Irigaray, there is a call for the woman to free herself from the patriarchy and to “become herself,” while also embracing the beauty of difference between not just men and women but among all women too.^[40] What emerges from this delicate balance is what has been coined as “strategic essentialism.”^[41]

            While modern essentialists often end up in a very defensive posture, they have raised some critical points about the weaknesses of the constructivist account and postmodern philosophy. The most obvious response to social constructivism is that it makes us as humans mere byproducts of societal and environmental mores, which in some sense share deterministic parallels with biological destiny.^[42] Additionally, essentialists protest that strong forms of constructivism can lead to relativistic outlooks where “standards” by which to describe female suffering and injustice disappear into a larger paradigm that ultimately disadvantages women.^[43] Seemingly, both accounts present faults. But, while postmodernity is critical of constructivist and essentialist language, it offers only less ground to stand on, making it increasingly difficult to create narratives about who we are as humans and as men and women. Furthermore, the postmodern deconstruction of both sex and gender as categories contains a number of flaws. Postmodernists insightfully tell us that language (and thus the usage of terms like “essentials,” “sex” and “gender”) has limitations alongside its inherent power. For, “language constructs reality,” and there is a profound “instability of all categories.”^[44] If this is the case, we then have to carefully reconsider and deconstruct how we’ve delineated these categories, including those of sex and gender.^[45] Because language is limited and is also used to accumulate power, there should be a hermeneutic of suspicion directed towards its usage. This postmodern critique makes important observations, but its own logic must be applied upon itself.^[46] Furthermore, while there is of course a deep value to deconstruction, particularly regarding universal claims that have to do with our day to day existence, at some point we need to construct meaning for our lives and our self-perception. Ultimately, the rejection of any kind of metanarrative, of even an abstract notion of the “universal feminine,” which for many people carries a great deal of significance, is what makes the postmodern deconstruction of sex and gender unhelpful for many. This is why, despite remarkable limitations, a theological narrative around the nature of sex/gender matters. Similarly, despite legitimate concerns about exaggerations promulgated by biological essentialism, postmodern deconstruction ultimately founders on the rock of biological reality. Consider the unique health challenges that men and women face, where for example, females but not males are at risk for cervical cancer. This is not a socially constructed reality and can be rooted in normative biological categories.

The Importance of Narrative and Nature

            Elaine Storkey gives us four paradigms from which to understand the biblical depiction of female-male existence, uniqueness and relations; difference, sameness/similarity, complementarity and union.^[47] Each of these themes represents separate but interrelated aspects of our “essentialized” createdness in the image of God. Storkey highlights the connection between sameness and difference in the following:

As Christians, we understand that both men and women are created in God’s image, and that both are the subjects of redemption history. Thus men and women are fundamentally equal. Yet the Creator, whose appreciation of diversity vibrates throughout creation, made both men and women as human beings embodied differently and thus bound to experience the creation in certain unique ways. Accordingly, equality and diversity are at the heart of creation, and at the center of the human community.^[48]

There is then a complementarity implied in the differences, at least biologically, in that reproduction requires specific contributions from each sex. And finally the differences and complementarity make the concept of “union” possible, given that union, as opposed to uniformity, requires differences coming together in a complementary manner.

Thus, we can see how the Genesis narrative captures all four of these paradigms. Creation begins with sameness before differentiation takes place. But shortly after, the complementary nature of reproduction and mutual partnership leads to unity. The concept of union necessitates a difference and what brings the differences together is the complementarity (not in the hierarchical sense).

            Many commentators have noted that in the Genesis creation account, humanity is only seen as wholly complete when both male and female are present.^[49] A dismissal or misuse of the Genesis account loses sight of its theological and existential weight. For regardless of debates about historicity or interpretation, the story of Eve and Adam is the beginning of the Christian tradition and it carries with it the authoritative gravity of God’s creative designs for humanity. This means that while individuals will always form their own essentialist (or constructivist) identities, we must also define ourselves on a larger scale;

Individualistic solutions…cannot unravel the complexities of gender, for in the end gender is not about individual men and women but about the differences that emerge when men and women are in relationship in human communities. To understand and attempt to connect the injustice of gender relations, we must explore the dynamics of men and women in relationship with each other.^[50]

Conclusion

            A theologically essentialist paradigm is grounded in the narrative of scripture with the diversity of humanity showcased in the added diversity among all women and all men. The distinctive features between the sexes and among the both sex groups are reasons to uphold and celebrate the ways in which attributes found in both men and women reflect God. Similarly, we can honor and recognize that, “Male and female are sexual categories and we experience much of our identity through our sexuality.”^[51] An essentialist may contend, with many qualifications, that, “the female body carries meaning in and of itself, which is the ground for women’s identity and also potentially for women’s solidarity as a group.”^[52] Essentialism based on narrative and collective identity, moves beyond individualistic and subjective ways of identifying, allowing women and men to enter into a larger story. This narrative, speaks of the radical equality, difference, similarity and createdness of human beings and highlights that we are more than mere byproducts of stardust, but also more than just our surroundings. To humbly embrace the distinctiveness endowed upon us by our Creator provides a foundation to build a purposeful life. And lastly it reminds us that;

Sustaining a dynamic dialogue between Christianity and feminism occurs when unique and distinct voices are not collapsed into one another. Preserving distinction when appropriate allows us to walk alongside those with whom we disagree, and it is this type of relation that the possibility of hearing a corrective voice or new word occurs. Often this means allowing the light of truth in feminist theory to perform the demanding work of chipping away at patriarchal traditions Christianity often inherits and generates. Equally important, it implies continually asking what light the revelation of God’s self in scripture, tradition and experience may bring to feminist theory.^[53]

Bibliography

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Japinga, Lynn. Feminism and Christianity: An Essential Guide. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1999.

Jones, Serene. Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000.

Knoppers, Annelies, Margaret L. Koch, Douglas J. Schuurman and Helen M. Sterk. After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation edited by Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993.

Leclerc, Diane. “Two Women Speaking “Woman”: The Strategic Essentialism of Luce Irigaray and Phoebe Palmer.” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006): 111-126.

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^[1] Serene Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000), 23.

^[2] French philosopher and feminist theorist Simone de Beauvoir made note of how women’s nature has been described both as inferior and as deficient. Beauvoir draws attention to the commentary on women found in Aristotelian literature and that of the great scholastic theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas as just two examples of deeply embedded negative perceptions about the “different,” and “lesser” nature of the female sex. St. Aquinas asserted that the woman was both an “imperfect man,” and an “incidental person.” See Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex translated by Judith Thurman, (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 2011), 5.

^[3] Serene Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 44.

^[4] By narrative, we mean, “story,” in which a certain paradigm or worldview provides us with both a map to navigate the world and concepts in which to relate to and build our personal and collective identities off of. For helpful works that delve into how story, narrative and mythology relate to reality and human consciousness see Stephen D. Crites, “The Narrative Quality of Experience,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39, no. 3 (September 1971): 291-311.

^[5] Feminist theology (which shouldn’t be interpreted as a uniform ideology with a singular set of systematic principles) as a modern school of thought or philosophy gained momentum following the work of Valerie Saiving and an article authored by her in 1960. See Valerie Saiving, “The Human Situation: A Feminine View,” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 28, no.1 (1960): 75-78. Subsequent early major Christian feminist thinkers in the 1960’s and afterwards included; Mary Daly, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Elizabeth Schüssler Fiorenza and Phyllis Trible. Feminist critiques of religion and Christianity also appeared in the 19th century and can be found within the works of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Margaret Fuller and Matilda Joslyn Gage. See Susan Hill. Lindley, “You Have Stept Out of Your Place.” A History of Women and Religion in America, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996), 275-297. Feminist responses to the Christian faith and its relation to women varied in both the 19th and 20th centuries. For an introduction to some of the basic concerns and issues raised by feminist theologians see Regina M. Bechtle, “Feminist Approaches to Theology,” The Way 27, no. 1 (April 1987): 124-131.

^[6] Elizabeth Powell, “In Search of Bodily Perspective: A Study of Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray.” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006): 103.

^[7] Elaine Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2001), 111-112. Storkey explains how the starting point of biblical femininsts functions distinctly from the primary feminist hermeneutic of experience in the following insightful comment; “…biblical feminists are at odds epistemologically with much of the rest of feminist theology, for they reject the primacy of women’s experience as the interpretive framework with which to approach the Bible. For them, although experience is crucially important, it cannot be the standpoint from which we understand reality. As authentic communication from God, the biblical text cannot simply be subject to women’s experience as some “higher order” that ultimately arbitrates over it. Women’s experience cannot have the last word, for experience itself has to be examined and understood. There has to be an intricate two-way relationship of experience and revelation, in which experience is seen in relation to God. Since the basis of human identity is given, created by God, not simply constructed out of the particulars of our world, we have to be prepared to allow the depths of God’s revelation to interpret us as we seek to understand our worth and calling before God.” (112).

^[8] And because Christians uphold God as creator, there is already an element of “creation/nature” imbued into humanity and one could argue an essentialism in the Imago Dei that each individual inherently possesses. Elaine Storkey reiterates the relevance of this point to the creation-construction debate, “If we are brought into being by a Creator, and thereby dependent on that Creator for our existence, we have already come down on one side of the creation-construction debate. Yet, we can still hold that our sexuality is put into creation by God and recognize that our differences  might also be developmental and cultural. See Elaine Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 97-98.

^[9] Nancy A. Dallavalle, “Neither Idolatry nor Iconoclasm: A Critical Essentialism for Catholic Feminist Theology,” Horizons 25, no.1 (Spring 1998): 32. Here Dallavalle is quoting theologian and gender theorist Eileen Graham. See Eileen Graham, “Gender, Personhood and Theology,” Scottish Journal of Theology 48, (1995): 341-358.

^[10] Susan Hill. Lindley, “You Have Stept Out of Your Place.” A History of Women and Religion in America, 426.

^[11] Ibid.

^[12] Diane Leclerc, “Two Women Speaking “Woman”: The Strategic Essentialism of Luce Irigaray and Phoebe Palmer,” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006): 112.

^[13] “Far from being an expression of natural differences, exclusive gender identity is the suppression of natural similarities.” See Gayle Rubin, “The Traffic in Women: Notes on the ‘Political Economy’ of Sex,” in Toward an Anthropology of Women edited by R.R. Reitr (New York, NY: Monthly Review Press, 1975), 179-180.

^[14] Lindley, “You Have Stept Out of Your Place.” A History of Women and Religion in America, 426.

^[15] Margaret Koch, “A Cross-Cultural Critique of Western Feminism,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation edited by Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993), 104.

^[16] Lindley, “You Have Stept Out of Your Place.” A History of Women and Religion in America, 426.

^[17] Generally speaking, “Two explanations for the similarities and differences of men and women have emerged in psychological and religious literature. The first emphasizes the differences and claims that men and women actually have two different natures. The second emphasizes the similarities, arguing that men and women share the same nature and differ only in the biological structure and capacity of their bodies.” See Lynn Japinga, Feminism and Christianity: An Essential Guide, (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1999), 81.

^[18] French philosopher Jean Joseph Goux places this in the category of “pre-modern” thought. See Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 25-26. The term essence itself is rooted in Platonic philosophy, but has been redefined or re-articulated by many figures and schools of thought since antiquity.

^[19] Ibid., 26.

^[20] Serene Jones explains this kind of essentialism in the following. “The notion of universality highlights the all-pervasive scope of essentialist claims about women’s nature, namely the belief that features of womanhood cover women’s lives in every place, age, and culture without exception.” See Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 26.

^[21] The “Danvers Statement,” published by CBMW (The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood) is reflective of this traditional perspective. See https://cbmw.org/about/danvers-statement/. CBE International (Christian Biblical Egalitarians) represents a differing perspective on sex and gender roles amidst evangelical Christians. See https://www.cbeinternational.org/.

^[22] Storkey acknowledges that, “It would be foolish to deny that biology plays a part in human relationships and sexual differentiation. Men and women are not only sexually different, they are different chromosomally, reproductively, anatomically, hormonally…” See Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 28.

^[23] In short, biology is not inevitable. Women and men cannot be reduced to simple products of biology.

^[24] Simone de Beauvoir is credited with pioneering this distinction. More recent figures like Judith Butler have been critical in developing and promulgating gender theory and the notion of gender as “performative.” See Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity, (Abingdon, UK: 1990).

^[25] Elizabeth Powell,  “In Search of Bodily Perspective: A Study of Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray,” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006): 82.

^[26] “The essentialist camp, in bringing the body back into feminist discussions, reifies it and so becomes a naive and ultimately destructive universalism.” The reification fallacy is when something immaterial is made material. Thus abstract essentialism which talks about a male or a female “essence.” See Elizabeth Powell, “In Search of Bodily Perspective: A Study of Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray,” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, 91.

^[27] Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 28.

^[28] Ibid., 29.

^[29] Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 49.

^[30] Ibid.

^[31] Diane Leclerc,“Two Women Speaking “Woman”: The Strategic Essentialism of Luce Irigaray and Phoebe Palmer,” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia edited by Allyson Jule and Bettina Tate Pedersen, 111.

^[32] Ibid., 112.

^[33] Here Storkey is quoting from the work of Elaine Graham. See Elaine Graham, Making the Difference: Gender, Personhood and Theology, (London, UK: Mowbray, 1995), 190.

^[34] Especially from a theological perspective, feminists are keenly aware of the dangerous usage of “difference” language. Margaret Koch concurs that, “with the entry of sin into the world, differences were no longer simply an expression of God’s creativity and the basis for human mutuality. Since the Fall, difference has become the foundation on which we have built prejudice, discrimination and oppression…[Thus]…The ongoing misuse of difference to harm some groups and concentrate power in the hands of others gives feminists a realistic reason to be wary of any discussion of difference.” See Margaret Koch, “A Cross-Cultural Critique of Western Feminism,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation edited by Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen, 101-102.

^[35] See Inmaculada, de Melo‐Martín, “When Is Biology Destiny? Biological Determinism and Social Responsibility,” Philosophy of Science. 70, no. 5 (2003): 1184–1194.

^[36] Lynn Japinga, Feminism and Christianity: An Essential Guide, (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1999), 82. Japinga also notes that single-nature theory, on the other hand, focuses primarily on Genesis 1, “asserting that human nature takes on one basic form rather than two. Men and women are far more alike than different and share the human characteristics of reason, emotion, body and spirit…Human beings are very diverse, but the differences are not divided neatly along gender lines” (82).

^[37] Japinga points out that,“The single-nature theory also has its limitations. Its emphasis on sameness and equality tends to downplay the role of the body, making it little more than a vehicle for procreation. The body and sexuality affect all of human life, not just the procreation event; thus the single-nature theory may not pay enough attention to the differences men and women experiences regarding their bodies. [Additionally], The single-nature theory fails to adequately account for diversity, if it assumes that all human beings are the same… [Lastly], There is no single feminist opinion  about human nature. Some feminists emphasize the role of the body; others, the role of socialization.” See Lynn Japinga, Feminism and Christianity: An Essential Guide, 84.

^[38] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophische Untersuchungen, Revised Fourth Edition, translated by G.E.M. Anscombe, P.M.S. Hacker and Joachim Schulte, Revised Fourth Edition, (West Sussex, UK: Blackwell Publishing, 2009).

^[39] Mary Stewart, “Western Feminism Since the 1960s: Lessons from the Present,” In After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation edited by Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993), 58-59. See also Sara Ruddick, Maternal Thinking: Toward a Politics of Peace, (Boston: Beacon Press, 1989).

^[40] Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 43.

^[41] Jones adds that “strategic essentialism” has also been called “normative constructivism, pragmatic utopianism and pragmatic universalism.” See Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 44.

^[42] Essentialists caution that “although constructivists defend agency, the logic of constructivism might lead to a cultural determinism eve more oppressive than the determinism of essentialism.” See Jones, Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace, 41.

^[43] Ibid.

^[44] Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 53-54.

^[45]  “Its own commitment is deconstruction, the questioning and dismantling of all that we previously thought of as real. There are no boundaries to what can be deconstructed. We can include the past, the present, categorical explanations, concepts, language, meaning, sexuality, biology, sociology and theology. In the process of deconstruction, we discover that what were once thought of as “absolutes” are only particulars, and even the particulars can be seen through myriad different perspectives depending on the location of the perceiver.” See Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 53.

^[46] “Deconstruction seems to poise feminism on the edge of a relativistic humility that may undercut the entire feminist project.” See Margaret Koch, “A Cross-Cultural Critique of Western Feminism,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation edited by Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen, 70-113.

^[47] Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 129-131.

^[48] Margaret Koch, “A Cross-Cultural Critique of Western Feminism,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation, 101.

^[49] Helen Sterk, “Gender Relations and Narrative in a Reformed Church Setting,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation, 212.

^[50] Koch, “A Cross-Cultural Critique of Western Feminism,” in After Eden: Facing the Challenge of Gender Reconciliation, 103.

^[51] Storkey, Origins of Difference: The Gender Debate Revisited, 28.

^[52] Elizabeth Powell, “In Search of Bodily Perspective: A Study of Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray,” In Being Feminist, Being Christian: Essays from Academia, 82.

^[53] Ibid., 103.

Professor of Religious Studies and Chair, Department of Comparative Cultural Studies, University of Houston

Don Schweitzer

McDougald Professor of Theology, St. Andrew’s College, Saskatoon

Don Schweitzer: I teach theology at St. Andrew’s College, a theological college of The United Church of Canada in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. During fall and winter semesters, communion is celebrated in our chapel weekly, using grape juice instead of wine and gluten-free bread. As participants pass the communion elements to each other, few say, “The blood of Christ shed for you.” Most use terms like “The cup of blessing,” or “The cup of the new covenant.” Underlying this preference in terms, for some, is an aversion to the notion of substitutionary atonement, the idea that Jesus’ death was a sacrifice that obtains God’s forgiveness.

Mark 14:24 seems to explicitly identify the contents of the cup with Jesus’ blood: “He said to them, ‘This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many’.” This verse raises several questions. While the notion of covenant is very important in the Hebrew Bible, it does not seem to have been part of Jesus’ proclamation,[1] which focused on the coming of God’s reign. Yet according to Mark, the night before he died, at what appears to have been a farewell meal with his disciples, Jesus invoked this notion and linked it to his death. What does “covenant” mean here? Jesus, according to Mark, says that his “blood … is poured out for many.” Who are the “many?” What did Jesus’ death do for them? Did Jesus or does Mark interpret his death as a substitutionary sacrifice? All the accounts of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples “agree that with it he left behind for the disciples something that was of abiding importance.”[2] What does the gospel of Mark understand this something to be and what is its abiding significance? What meaning might it have today?

Christian Eberhart: The communion praxis of chapel worships at St. Andrew’s College is slightly different from that of Sunday worship at Christ the King Lutheran Church here in Houston, Texas, which my family and I attend. This church belongs to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and follows a traditional style of worship. At this church, communion is also celebrated more or less weekly, yet the participants line up in the middle aisle of the sanctuary. They slowly move toward the altar area located in the center of the church building, where they kneel down. Then the officiating minister and his/her assistants distribute bread and offer either a common or an individual cup with wine or grape juice. While receiving the cup, the officiating minister or assistants usually says the words, “the blood of Christ shed for you.” Thus these words are similar to those that some participants say at St. Andrew’s College.

We may well ask why Christians of the United Church of Canada and of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America celebrate the same ritual with bread and wine and use similar words to accompany it. In fact, almost all Christian churches around the world celebrate this ritual. Its origins are found in the New Testament where we read that Jesus Christ had a last supper with his disciples before he died on the cross. So while the roots of this celebration are biblical, it is interesting that the exact words “the blood of Christ shed for you” are nowhere attested in the Bible. Here is an overview of the four New Testament passages, arranged in chronological order, that relate the words of Jesus spoken over the cup:

1 Corinthians 11:25: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.”

Mark 14:24: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.”

Matthew 26:28: “Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

Luke 22:20: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

We see that, according to these four texts, Jesus either speaks about the “cup” of the “new covenant” or about “my blood of the covenant.” All four passages employ the word “covenant;” the “abiding significance” of the ritual that Jesus instituted and of his words thus have to do with this specific term. What exactly the word “covenant” means is indeed a problem that all four texts present for the modern reader. Before summarizing basic parameters of covenant theology of the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, I wonder and would like to ask you: Does the United Church of Canada, which deploys ‘covenant’ terminology rather often in its liturgical practice, offer any guidelines or biblical reflections on its meaning, or more generally on the meaning of Communion?

Don Schweitzer: The United Church of Canada was formed in 1925, through a union of the Congregationalist and Methodist churches of Canada, a majority of Canadian Presbyterians, and the Local Union Churches. It inherited long traditions of Christian and specifically Reformed and Methodist reflection on communion, but it does not have a long tradition of such reflection of its own. Article XVI of the United Church’s Basis of Union refers to baptism and the Lord’s Supper as “signs and seals of the covenant ratified in His [Jesus’] precious blood.” [3] The term ‘covenant’ has been and is used in communion prayers and words of distribution in United Church worship resources. In expounding Article XVI of the Basis of Union, Thomas Kilpatrick defined covenant as “the relation between God and His people, made in the pouring out of His love and life upon the Cross.”[4] In the United Church the term covenant is often used in this way, to describe the relationship between God and the church inaugurated in Jesus Christ, particularly through the saving significance of Jesus’ death, understood in light of his resurrection.

In the 1980s committed relationships between two people, two congregations, or one person or people and a community began to be described as covenant relationships and to be celebrated with covenanting services. A study of United Church worship practices described covenant as a relationship between two parties, preeminently between God and people, characterized by the commitment of each to the other.[5] As a guideline for understanding this term’s meaning, some United Church resources note the Jewish roots of Christian worship.[6] So in the United Church, the term covenant has been used to describe relationships established by God with humanity. The term “new covenant” refers specifically to that inaugurated through the ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In the past forty years or so, covenant has been used more generally to denote intentional relationships of mutual commitment and care between people.

The United Church follows the Protestant practice of describing communion as one of two sacraments through which Christ is uniquely and efficaciously present. Communion is frequently described in United Church materials as perpetuating “the fellowship between Christ and His disciples sealed in the upper room.”[7] Charlotte Caron has noted that in the United Church communion may be understood in eight ways: as a 1) remembrance of Christ, his ministry, death and resurrection, 2) celebration of this, 3) covenant between Christ and the church, 4) source of empowerment, 5) representation of atonement, 6) foretaste of the messianic banquet, 7) celebration and enactment of community, and 8) as a symbolic act of commitment to the public expression of values of justice and compassion as embodied in Jesus’ ministry, death and resurrection.[8] These meanings should not be seen as mutually exclusive, but as different aspects of the same sacrament. All may be present in one communion service. While United Church resources typically emphasize Christ being mystically present in the celebration of communion, these resources generally follow New Testament communion texts in recognizing its multiple meanings. As William Kervin notes, these texts feature a “convergence of a rich, if not bewildering, array of related but distinct traditions at work.”[9] He identifies seven such “biblically-rooted eucharistic meanings, categories and metaphors …: remembrance, church, thanksgiving, invocation, community, repentance, future anticipation.”[10] This polyvalence results from the Last Supper narratives bringing together “all that has gone before and all that is yet to come, reaching both backward and forward in the drama of the Gospel.”[11] Like the meals Jesus shared with known sinners, in the United Church today the Lord’s Table is typically open to any and all who believe in Jesus Christ. Yet as communion makes Jesus present and recalls his ministry, death and resurrection, it calls us to follow his way of the cross in seeking justice for the oppressed and reconciliation with our enemies and those we have harmed. To conclude, the United Church tends to focus the meaning of communion on Jesus Christ and the saving significance of his ministry, death and resurrection. But it recognizes that much of this builds upon traditions in the Hebrew Bible and includes the participation of Jesus’ followers.

Christian Eberhart: You describe the multifaceted way in which your denomination uses the two terms “covenant” and “new covenant.” In fact, in the Hebrew Bible and in Early Christian literature, these terms appear just in this fashion. To begin with, a “covenant” (Hebrew b^erith) is frequently mentioned in different Hebrew Bible narratives.[12] God establishes the first covenant with Noah and his family before the great Flood (Genesis 6:18). Thus Noah, his family, and all animals survive the Deluge which exterminates all other life on earth. (It may be noted that Noah is instructed to bring one pair of every animal species into the ark according to verses 19–20, but “seven pairs of all clean animals, the male and its mate; and a pair of the animals that are not clean, the male and its mate” according to Genesis 7:2. This difference can be seen as evidence that both texts belong to different Pentateuch sources that were combined later on.[13]) After the Flood, God said to Noah: “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth” (Genesis 9:12–13). Two related aspects are particularly noteworthy in this passage: First, the covenant is made not exclusively with Noah or, for that matter, with humans. It is explicitly stated that God establishes the covenant with “you and every living creature that is with you,” which even includes “the earth.” Hence this covenant is all-inclusive and conveys God’s promise to care for all of creation. It clearly refutes any anthropocentric interpretation which fails to respect other forms or expressions of life. And second, this covenant is established unilaterally. God speaks to Noah, who does not respond in any fashion.[14] This, however, fits the very characteristics of this covenant. If it is not only being established with Noah but with the entire world, then there indeed cannot be any response since Noah is unable to speak on behalf of the entire world. This covenant is, therefore, a one-sided promise or a self-imposed obligation of God to provide care of the earth and all of its life-forms.

God then establishes a covenant with Abram (soon to be called “Abraham”). Because Abram fears to remain childless, God promises that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars (Genesis 15:5). Abram believes in the divine promise, and it is “reckoned it to him as righteousness” (verse 6). He then performs a strange, archaic ritual that requires cutting animals in two; after sunset, a smoking “oven” and a flaming torch are said to have passed between these pieces (verses 10 and 17). This procedure is based on an ancient Akkadian magical ritual.[15] It might, at the same time, be mentioned in this narrative to explain the Hebrew terminology that a covenant is literally to be “cut” (karat). Genesis 17 repeats God’s promise; Abram is supposed to walk before God and be blameless (verse 1), is henceforth to be called “Abraham” (verse 5), and is to circumcise all male descendants as sign of the covenant (verses 9–14).[16]

The covenant with Noah and all of the earth, and the one with Abram / Abraham are indeed multifaceted. Yet they have in common that God counters existential fear and assures continuous life. After the deluge, when Noah is concerned whether such a catastrophe will happen again, God assures him – and the entire world with him – safety. Abram, on the other hand, fears that he, despite his economic success, will die without descendants; he fears the end of his lineage. In this situation, God assures him that an heir of his own flesh will be born. Thus covenants convey comfort and assurance; this is their “abiding significance.” They are also typically accompanied by a sign.

More important for our purpose, however, is the observation that Abram responds to God’s promise. We see here that most covenants in the Hebrew Bible require bilateral commitments. The covenanting parties might not be equivalent at all, but either party has a responsibility.[17] The template for this “vertical” covenant is found in the horizontal, secular sphere. Jan Christian Gertz explains that the concept of “covenant” originally belongs to the “highly-developed legal culture of the pre-Hellenistic ancient Near East”[18] where it was mostly used to designate international contractual connections.

Such bilateral commitments are specifically manifest in the covenant ceremony at Mt. Sinai. This covenant is of interest here because it is established, among other things, with blood. Moreover, this is the first covenant made not with an individual or all of the earth, but specifically with the people of Israel. After the exodus from Egypt, Moses leads the Israelites towards the Promised Land and arrives at Mt. Sinai where God resides. The bilateral commitment established here consists of two components: First, Moses reads from the “book of the covenant,” and the people promise to follow its ordinances (Exodus 24:7). Next, Moses takes blood of sacrificial animals, “sprinkled it on the people and said: See the blood of the covenant that Yhwh has made with you in accordance with all these words” (verse 8). What is the existential concern of this covenant? When the Israelites arrived at Mt. Sinai, they were considered profane and impure; moreover, the fact that various sets of laws and commandments for Israel were being issued and proclaimed (Exodus 20:1–21; 21:1–23:19; 24:7) points to a moral dimension of these covenantal obligations and the need of the definition of right/righteous versus wrong/sin. As a consequence, the Israelites were not allowed to approach the mountain where the holy God of Israel resides (Exodus 19:12–13). After the covenant comprising readings from the “book of the covenant” (24:7) and the ritual with the “blood of the covenant” (verse 8), they were considered holy. This is manifest in the peculiar fact that seventy representatives of the Israelites could climb up Mt. Sinai where indeed “they saw God, and they ate and drank” (24:11). Only an act of consecration could have prepared previously profane and impure/sinful humans to appear before God and even have a celebration. We see that this covenant was a complex process. I have recently summarized its structure and “effects” for the Israelites by the following table:[19]

The Covenant on Mount Sinai

The “effect” of this covenantal ceremony is thus consecration; humans are made holy. The “effect” occurs both in the promise of obedience to ethical ordinances and through the sprinkling of sacrificial blood. How can the latter be explained?

The blood of humans and animals alike represents their life-force or vitality. This idea is commonplace in the ancient Near East. A few examples shall suffice: Most people in the ancient Near East cultures were nomads who frequently practiced animal slaughter by cutting an animal’s throat to drain its blood. Also in warfare, the idea of blood as life could be empirically verified through the observation that the loss of blood causes death. For that reason, this notion pervades ancient mythology. According to the Babylonian creation myth Enuma Eliš, humans are created from the blood of a slain god (6:33), and the Canaanite god El offers bread and “wine” to the goddess Anat; the latter is paraphrased as “blood of the grapevine.”[20] This idea is also expressed in the Hebrew Bible: Leviticus 17:11 states that “…as life, it is the blood that makes atonement.” It is important to know that atonement in the Hebrew Bible has nothing to do with punishment; it is rather a process of purification precisely through the life-force contained in blood. Thus the “blood of the covenant” at Mt. Sinai likewise purified the Israelites and consecrated them so that they were prepared for the approach of, and encounter with the holy God.

When, according to Mark 14:24, Jesus used the words “blood of the covenant” during the Last Supper, he could be certain that everybody recognized them as a quotation from the well-known Torah narrative of Mt. Sinai.[21] Jesus wanted these words to be understood just as the story in Exodus 24. And in a situation of existential fear that was not the least the result of the failure of his disciples, he wanted them to know that their status as beloved children of God would not cease because of his death, which could have been interpreted as an expression of divine judgment and the ultimate end of his mission. The cup of wine that Jesus shared with them was thus a sign of God’s unconditional love.[22] Its “effect” would have been like that at Mt. Sinai: humans who come into physical contact with blood – represented here by wine – are being consecrated.[23]

Was the covenant that Jesus established bilateral like the one at Mt. Sinai? There, the obligation of the Israelites was manifest in the readings of the “book of the covenant” and their subsequent promise of obedience. However, what would have been the obligation of the disciples in the context of the Last Supper? It is reduced to eating and drinking. This can barely be called a covenantal obligation.[24] Moreover, it is interesting to note that Jesus, while referencing the “blood of the covenant” from the narrative of Exodus 24, did not reference the “book of the covenant.” He replaced it with another sign, namely the sharing of the bread representing his body (Mark 14:22). Instead of imposing new ethical obligations, this sign reminded his disciples that he had come to nurture humans with God’s love, and that, during his life, meals were time and again focal points of acceptance and divine power. The covenant established by Jesus is, thus, rather a unilateral one, conveying the offer of God’s forgiveness.

Finally, the importance of this covenant cannot be underestimated, as it has been considered to epitomize the whole of the good news of Christ’s ministry, death and resurrection. What we usually call “New Testament” is actually the “new covenant” (kainē diathēke) in Greek. Therefore, the whole authoritative body of 27 early Christian writings is being subsumed under this term that Jesus employed during the Last Supper, which in turn is referenced from the Mosaic covenant at Mt. Sinai. The church later translated the Greek kainē diathēke as Latin novum testamentum – “New Testament.” It now uses terminology of a final, legal decree with an emphasis on unilateral provisions in favor of the heirs. As these reflections indicate, this is an apt summary of what Jesus had in mind.

Don Schweitzer: Let me try to summarize our discussion of Mark 14:24 so far. According to Mark, Jesus looked ahead to his imminent death while holding a symbolic meal with his inner circle of disciples. This verse speaks of how the cup of wine represents his death, which unilaterally inaugurates a new covenant. The words of this verse probably represent Mark’s redaction of an earlier tradition that stemmed from a ritual Jesus celebrated with his disciples in which he proclaimed that his death would be part of the basis of a new covenant. In Mark’s version of this, Jesus’ words over the cup take up the abysmal guilt and suffering associated with his crucifixion and yet proclaim these to be realities that have already been “anticipated and overcome.”[25] Here the saving significance of Jesus’ resurrection illuminates his cross and gives it salvific meaning. Jesus’ death remains the officially sanctioned execution of an unarmed prophet. Yet it also becomes a sign of God’s self-giving, unconditional love. Jesus’ words describe his cross and his preceding ministry as the basis of a new relationship to God, which will be fully realized in the coming of God’s reign. This counters his disciples’ fears and their subsequent guilt over abandoning him, and through this, empowers them to continue to follow him.

Mark 14:24 concludes with the words that Jesus’ blood is “poured out for many.” Who were these “many” in Jesus’ time? Who did Mark understand them to be?

Christian Eberhart: It is interesting that all disciples drank from the cup during the Last Supper (Mark 14:23), but then Jesus said that his blood would be poured out for many (verse 24). However, the Greek word for “many” is polloi, which means “a whole lot,” so it does not stand in sharp contrast to the term “all.” Yet the exact choice of terminology is most likely reflecting an earlier statement of Jesus about himself. Just before Jesus arrived in the city of Jerusalem, James and John, the sons Zebedee, ask him for privileged seats in his “glory” (Mark 10:37). They seem to be specifically interested in gaining status through following Jesus. But this kind of self-interest is not what the mission of Jesus is all about. Therefore Jesus replies that “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Several scholars have rightly suggested that these words of Jesus reference passages from the Fourth Servant Song in Isaiah 53:10b–12 according to the Septuagint. According to these texts, God intends to “vindicate the just one who serves many well”; therefore the servant “will be the heir of many”, “has borne the sins of many and was handed over on account of their sins.”[26] The term “many” occurs three times in these lines and is thus highly characteristic of the Fourth Servant Song. So Jesus referred to this text from Isaiah to convey his own mission; later he also re-used some of its language during the Last Supper.

Who, indeed, could be the people for whom the blood of Jesus is poured out, hence who receive forgiveness of sins? While it is clear that Jesus strongly associated with outsiders and marginalized folks of his society, he did not exclude anybody who accepted his offer of redemption. In that sense, I think that the “many” at the time of Jesus were the same sort of community as those 40 years later when Mark finalized his Gospel account. They were all those who thirsted for salvation through Jesus and who, therefore, attended worship meetings and the celebration of Eucharist/Communion. Can we assume that all those who do the same today belong to those “many” as well?

Don Schweitzer: Yes, and then some. Jesus’ declaration concerning the saving significance of his death, regarding who is included in the covenant it renewed or inaugurated, is open-ended. Its field of meaning is broad, extending infinitely into the future and around the globe. Mark 14:25 indicates that the promise implicit in it will only be fulfilled with the coming of God’s reign.

Today the “many” of Mark 14:24 refers to those who gather to worship in Jesus’ name. Elizabeth Johnson relates how Augustine once told his congregation that in relation to their ancestors in the faith, they were the church of the future.[27] The disciples who gathered with Jesus for the last supper could never have foreseen the church of Augustine’s time, or the church of the present in all its varied forms around the globe. But in what Jesus did that night, and through the disciples’ faith in this, their memory of it and the way they lived this out, the foundations were laid for the church that exists today. Similarly we today, through our worship and discipleship, are helping build the church of the future that will come after us. The “many” for whom Jesus died includes all Christians who have gone before us, all who will come after us, and we ourselves.

But the “many” for whom Jesus consecrates himself includes more than those who worship in his name. The covenant that Jesus makes here is inaugurated unilaterally. It does not depend on our response, on our own righteousness, or even on our faith. It extends to all creation. The doctrine of justification by grace is not developed in Mark’s gospel with the clarity with which it is set forth in Paul’s letters, but it is present here in Jesus’ declaration of the saving significance of his death. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection, every person has been justified before God once and for all. From a Christian perspective every person’s relationship to God, to each other and to themselves is essentially determined by this.[28] The doctrine of justification by grace points towards universal salvation and every person is to be related to in light of this. As Christ consecrates himself in Mark 14:24 to the salvation of “many,” he consecrates all who worship in his name to responsibility for the well-being of all those for whom he died. Thus Christ’s words here commit his followers to an inclusive solidarity which has no limits. As Jesus is the way that Christians must follow, Christians are called and empowered by his teaching, example, and the saving significance of his death and resurrection, to care for all, regardless of who they are or what they have done, particularly for the suffering.[29]

Jesus’ public ministry “followed a particular direction in history … because that was what truly proclaiming the Reign of God demanded.”[30] This direction led to his death on the cross: a place of exclusion, vulnerability and denigration. The universal solidarity that faith in Jesus consecrates Christians to becomes concrete by following this trajectory through attending to the victims of society today. If one asks who are the “many” to whom this universal solidarity should be specifically directed today, several groups stand out. There are some, like the mentally differently abled, whom Jean Vanier called the wounded, or the economically poor, to whom this universal solidarity must always be preferentially directed. But today in the contexts of the United States and Canada we can name three groups specifically.

A first group to whom Jesus’ words direct Christian care and attention today are Syrian refugees, fleeing the chaotic violence that has engulfed their country. Their plight was tragically depicted through photographs of the body of toddler Alan Kurdi, washed up on a Turkish beach. Kurdi’s family had been hoping to join relatives in Canada. He, his brother and mother drowned September 2, 2015, in an attempt to reach Greece. Kurdi’s image became a symbol of the suffering of Syrian refugees and an indictment of Western indifference to their plight.

A second group are Black citizens of Canada and the United States. The shooting of unarmed Black citizens by police officers in the United States and evidence that Black Canadians are subject to harsh prejudice[31] necessitates that the solidarity inspired and empowered by celebration of the Eucharist be directed towards preserving the lives, dignity and opportunities of Black citizens in both countries.

Finally, in Canada, a third group are Aboriginal women. The number of missing and murdered Aboriginal women and the indifference towards their fate on the part of many Canadians is indicative of how Aboriginal women bear the brunt of prejudice, exclusion and denigration in Canada. They are among the “many” for whom Christ died and to whom solidarity must be particularly extended at this time.

In the library of St. Andrew’s College is a poster with the caption, “Refugees Welcome.” Refugees Welcome is an ad hoc network of organizations dedicated to seeking justice for refugees and displaced persons that came into being in response to Alan Kurdi’s death.[32] The St. Andrew’s College library is at the far end of the hall from the chapel where communion is celebrated. This poster symbolizes the solidarity that Jesus’ words in Mark 14:24 call for. Its location is representative of how the meaning of what communion celebrates reaches to the far corners of our worlds. The “many” of Mark 14:24 encompasses all those who recognize Jesus as the Christ, and includes all others as well.

Christian Eberhart: Your closing reflections on the meaning of the “many” today are an impressive testimony to the continuing relevance of the words that Jesus spoke over the Eucharistic cup according to Mark 14:24. In the previous paragraphs, we have analyzed them historically and in the context of the Bible. We also scrutinized the meaning of the accompanying rite with wine in light of early Jewish sacrificial rituals and covenant theology. Hopefully these paragraphs could demonstrate that neither the words spoken by Jesus nor the rite with the cup of wine have anything to do with what is usually understood as substitutionary atonement. They do not draw on any ancient type of punishment. Instead they refer to traditional Jewish covenant concepts, which usually established bilateral commitments between covenanting parties. The covenant at Mt. Sinai, in particular, had sacrificial atonement at its core. Based on blood rituals in the context of animal sacrifices, the “effect” of such atonement was purification and thus consecration of humans, who were made holy through the life-force that blood contained. Looking ahead to his imminent death, Jesus adopted this specific ancient tradition when he spoke of “my blood of the covenant” during the Last Supper (Mark 14:24). He thus inaugurated a unilateral covenant that conveyed the forgiveness of sins to those who participated in it, and the love of God. Thus God offers salvation to many humans in a promise that is still valid today and extends infinitely into the future. This promise applies specifically to those who suffer from rejection, exclusion, poverty, marginalization, etc., among them refugees, Black citizens, and Aboriginal women. Their existential fear is still taken serious by God who hears their cries of anguish and whose love and care does not cease even in hopeless situations. God still invites humans into a covenantal relationship of love today.

[1] Jürgen Becker, Jesus of Nazareth (New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1998), p. 341. However, Jesus’ proclamation of God’s coming reign did have covenantal aspects, in that those who received it were to respond by striving to live by the high moral standards of his ethical teachings.

[2] Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz, The Historical Jesus: A Comprehensive Guide (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998), p. 431.

[3] Thomas Buchanan Kilpatrick, Our Common Faith (Toronto: The United Church Publishing House; Ryerson Press, 1928), p. 192.

[4] Ibid., p. 193.

[5] Charlotte Caron, Eager for Worship (Toronto: The United Church of Canada, Division of Ministry, Personnel and Education, 2000), pp. 39–40. Caron specified that covenant theology “stresses God’s faithfulness and people’s response of faith;” ibid, p. 39.

[6] For example, Richard Davidson, “The Lord’s Supper,” in Ordered Liberty, edited by William Kervin (Toronto: United Church Publishing House, 2011), p. 204.

[7] Article X of the 1940 Statement of Faith. Quoted from John Dow, This Is Our Faith (Canada: The Board of Evangelism and Social Service, The United Church of Canada, 1943), p. 182.

[8] Caron, Eager for Worship, pp. 64–8.

[9] William Kervin, “Beyond the Last Supper: The Institution Narrative Revisited,” Touchstone 27/2 (May 2009), p. 28.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid., pp. 30–31.

[12] I need to mention that a comprehensive discussion of the theme “covenant” cannot be presented here. Specifically, I will only be able to study selected occurrences of this term; however, notions of covenantal agreements are also manifest wherever God declares to the Israelites or their representative: “I will take you as my people, and I will be your God” (Exodus 6:7; see also Leviticus 26:12; Jeremiah 7:23; 11:4, etc.). For a fuller treatment of this topic, see, e.g., Rolf Rendtorff, The Covenant Formula: An Exegetical and Theological Investigation, translated by Margaret Kohl (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998); Walter Groß, Zukunft für Israel: Alttestamentliche Bundeskonzepte und die aktuelle Debatte um den Neuen Bund, SBS 176 (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1998); Udo Rüterswörden, “Die Liebe zu Gott im Deuteronomium,” in Die deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerke: Redaktions- und religionsge­schichtliche Perspektiven zur ‘Deuteronomismus’-Diskussion in Tora und Vorderen Propheten, edited by M. Witte et al., BZAW 365 (Berlin; New York: DeGruyter, 2006), pp. 229–38; Christoph Koch, Vertrag, Treueid und Bund: Studien zur Rezeption des altorientalischen Vertragsrechts im Deuteronomium und zur Ausbildung der Bundes­theologie im Alten Testament, BZAW 383 (Berlin; New York: DeGruyter, 2008); Robert D. Miller, Covenant and Grace in the Old Testament: Assyrian Propaganda and Israelite Faith, Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures and its Context 16 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2012).

[13] Scholars usually assume that Genesis 6 belongs to the Priestly Source (P) while Genesis 7 was written by the Yahwist (J). Cf. E.A. Speiser, Genesis: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, Anchor Bible, vol. 1 (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 1964), p. 52; Claus Westermann, Genesis 1–11, translated by John J. Scullion, Continental Commentary (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), p. 428.

[14] Cf. Westermann, Genesis 1–11, p. 471.

[15] Cf. Speiser, Genesis, p. 113.

[16] An interesting question is whether or not all those who were circumcised were included in the covenant with God. Among the first to be circumcised was, in fact, Ishmael (Genesis 17:23–27), who was born to Abram from Hagar, the slave woman (16:15–16). However, the line of promise was continued through his second son Isaac. It is important to notice that many ancient Near East nations knew and practiced the custom of circumcision (Jeremiah 9:24–25). It was by no means unique to Israel or its ancestors; hence not every circumcised person was therefore a member of the covenant (Matthias Köckert, “Gottes ‘Bund’ mit Abraham und die ‘Erwählung’ Israels in Genesis 17,” in Covenant and Election in Exilic and Post-Exilic Judaism: Studies of the Sofja Kovalevskaja Research Group on Early Jewish Monotheism, vol. V, edited by Nathan MacDonald, FAT 2/79 [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015, pp. 1–28], pp. 17–18).

[17] This is also what Steven D. Mason observes in his study of the term “eternal covenant,” which he finds to be “a bilateral, conditional, and breakable covenant involving the obligations of God and humans” (Steven D. Mason, “Eternal Covenant” in the Pentateuch: The Contours of an Elusive Phrase [New York, NY: T&T Clark International, 2008], p. 226 [italics original]). See also Gerhard von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose: Genesis Kapitel 12,10 – 25,18, ATD (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1952), p. 168.

[18] Jan Christian Gertz, “Covenant II. Old Testament,” Religion Past & Present: Encyclopedia of Theology and Religion, edited by Hans Dieter Betz et al., vol. 3 (Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2007, pp. 526–8), p. 527. See also George E. Mendenhall, Law and Covenant in Israel and the Ancient Near East (Pittsburgh, Biblical Colloquium, 1955); Gerhard von Rad, Theologie des Alten Testaments, vol. 1: Die Theologie der geschichtlichen Überlieferungen Israels (Munich: Chr. Kaiser, 1987), p. 146.

[19] Adapted from: Christian A. Eberhart, What a Difference a Meal Makes: The Last Supper in the Bible and in the Christian Church, translated by Michael Putman (Houston: Lucid Books, 2016), p. 70 (table 2).

[20] Cf. Christian A. Eberhart, “Blood. I. Ancient Near East and Hebrew Bible/Old Testament,” Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception vol. 4 (Berlin; New York: Walter DeGruyter, 2012, pp. 201–12), pp. 202–4.

[21] The limited space of this essay does not permit an exhaustive discussion of the complex problems of the four words of institution from the perspectives of form criticism, tradition history, etc. However, most scholars recognize the words of Jesus spoken over the cup according to Mark 14:24 (and Matthew 26:28) as derived from the covenant at Mt. Sinai in Exodus 24:8 (cf. Johannes Behm, “αἷμα, αἱματεκχυσία,” ThWNT 1 [1933, pp. 171–76], p. 174; Joachim Gnilka, Das Evangelium nach Markus: 2. Teilband Mk 8,27–16,20, EKK 2/2 [Neukirchen-Vluyn; Zürich: Neukirchener, 1979], p. 245; Xavier Léon-Dufour, Le partage du pain eucharistique selon le Nouveau Testament, Parole de Dieu [Paris: du Seuil, 1982], pp. 170–72; Hermann Lich­ten­berger, “‘Bund’ in der Abendmahls­über­lieferung,” in Bund und Tora: Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alttestamentlicher, früh­jüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition, edited by id. and Friedrich Avemarie, WUNT 92 [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996, pp. 217–28], pp. 221–25; Peter Wick, Die urchristlichen Gottesdienste: Entstehung und Entwicklung im Rahmen der früh­jüdischen Tempel-, Synagogen- und Hausfrömmigkeit, BWANT 150 [Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2002, pp. 248–49]). By contrast, the different terminology in 1 Corinthians 11:25 and Luke 22:20 points to the “new covenant” written on the hearts of Israel and Judah according to Jeremiah 38:31 LXX (cf. Ferdinand Hahn, Theologie des Neuen Testaments, vol. 2: Die Einheit des Neuen Testaments: The­ma­ti­sche Darstellung [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2nd ed. 2005], pp. 479–80). However, this covenant narrative does not mention any blood, so that a partial reference to Exodus 24:8 should nevertheless be assumed for 1 Corinthians 11:25; Luke 22:20. For a more detailed discussion, see Christian A. Eberhart, Kultmetaphorik und Christologie: Opfer- und Sühneterminologie im Neuen Testament, WUNT 306 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), pp. 118–23.

[22] It is not warranted to insist on too strong a distinction between “cup” and “wine/blood” in the words of institution. The cup that is emphasized in 1 Corinthians 11:25 clearly contains wine, which represents the blood of Jesus so as to convey his death. Furthermore, the words “poured out” are not standard terminology for the “sharing” of a cup among participants of a meal; instead they typically refer to the outpouring of liquids such as wine (Matthew 9:17; Luke 5:37). Cf. Lich­ten­berger, “‘Bund’ in der Abendmahls­über­lie­ferung,” pp. 222–3.

[23] Jesus celebrated his Last Supper ritual during the Passover festival, a traditional Jewish feast that commemorated salvation from slavery in Egypt. The food of the Last Supper was also a symbol of commemoration, as is indicated in 1 Corinthians 11:24, 25; Luke 22:19. The focus of commemoration was Jesus who brought salvation from danger (cf. Eberhart, What a Difference a Meal Makes, pp. 54–8). Hence, the Last Supper combines several important Jewish traditions like Passover and sacrificial atonement. However, the words of institution pertaining to the cup do not evoke the peculiar apotropaic Passover blood rite according to Exodus 12:7, 22, which stipulates the application of blood to doorposts and the lintel of a house.

[24] Reflections on translation matters further elucidates this point. The Bible used by the early Christians was the collection of writings commonly called “Old Testament” today. But these Christians soon distinguished themselves from their Jewish environment by giving preference to the Greek translation of the Hebrew text, which is now commonly called “Septuagint” (LXX). In this translation, various Greek terms could have been employed for the rendering of b^erith, the Hebrew word for “covenant.” Martin Rösel explains that terms denoting bilateral contractual obligations like synthēke or spondē would have been available. Instead, the early translators chose the Greek legal term diathēke to render Hebrew b^erith which designates a unilateral provision or ordinance (cf. Martin Rösel, “Exkurs: Zur Übersetzung von διαθήκη,” in Septuaginta Deutsch: Erläuterungen und Kommentare zum griechischen Alten Testament, vol. I Genesis bis Makkabäer, edited by Martin Karrer and Wolfgang Kraus [Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2011], p. 170). It is this Greek term diathēke that has been adopted in the early Christian texts for the covenant established by Jesus. The very terminology thus suggests its rather unilateral character. Due to this lack of mutuality that is already manifest in the Old Testament and to highlight its legal character, Rösel goes on to suggest that a more appropriate rendering for diathēke in the Septuagint would be “disposition” or “obligation.” However, my preference for the usage of the translation of diathēke as “covenant” is guided by considerations of the conceptual goal. The various covenant events in the Old Testament as well as the covenant that Jesus establishes in the Eucharist aim at a connection and have an underlying relational dimension, specifically an existence vis-à-vis God.

[25] Michael Welker, What Happens in Holy Communion? (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2000), p. 108.

[26] Cf. Adela Y. Collins, Mark: A Commentary on the Gospel of Mark, Hermeneia (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2007), p. 500; Ulrike Mittmann, “Jes 53 LXX – ein umstrittener urchristlicher Referenztext: Zum traditions- und rezeptionsgeschichtlichen Hintergrund der Einsetzungsworte,” in Die Septuaginta und das frühe Christentum: The Septuagint and Christian Origins, edited by Thomas S. Caulley and Hermann Lichtenberger, WUNT 277 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011, pp. 216–32), pp. 221–22.

[27] Elizabeth Johnson, Abounding in Kindness (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2015), p. 3.

[28] Hans Küng, Justification, 40^th anniversary ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1964/2004), p. 231.

[29] Johann Baptist Metz, “The Last Universalists,” in The Future of Theology, edited by Miroslav Volf et al. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), p. 50.

[30] Ignacio Ellacuría, Essays on History, Liberation, and Salvation, edited by Michael Lee, with an “Introduction” by Michael Lee and “Commentary” by Kevin Burke (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2013), p. 206.

[31] Will Kymlicka, Finding Our Way: Rethinking Ethnocultural Relations in Canada (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 80.

[32] https://www.refugeeswelcome.ca/about.