Article, Faith-learning Integration as Bricolage: Jesus the Feminist as a Case Study, by Tim Muehlhoff

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Faith-learning Integration as Bricolage: Jesus the Feminist as a Case Study

Journal of Christian Teaching Practice, Volume 10 (January – December, 2023)

Tim Muehlhoff, PhD

Professor of Communication, Biola University


Bricolage is an odd term used by artists to create something using diverse materials readily available. I often think of that term when I’m in my office writing a journal article or working on a chapter for a book. What’s readily available to me? To my left is a bookcase filled with theology books, church history, Christian apologetics, Bible dictionaries, and a whole row of C.S. Lewis books. To my right are shelves filled with writers—some religious, some not—who are outside my specific religious tradition. These authors include post-moderns, feminist theorists, Buddhists, atheists, Marxists, and an entire row of existentialist thinkers such Camus, Sartre, Heidegger, and Merleau-Ponty. All these wildly diverse thinkers are available to me as write.

The mistake I often make is that I get into the habit of looking only at the bookcase to my left and consulting with what is familiar—and safe. My favorite definition of faith-learning integration comes from Rick Langer, a colleague who directs the Office of Faith and Learning at my university. He suggests that integration is a conversation between the historic Christian faith and the best of human learning. In other words, how much do I let the authors on both shelves discuss issues with each other? I’m amazed how many common topics both sets of scholars equally care about: What is the meaning of life? What is the basis for moral action? Does God exist? How can we communicate with humility and civility? What is a just society? How we respond to the oppressed and marginalized? What does it mean to flourish as individuals, or a community? Who has the right to define what is abnormal? In my writing, how much do I let scholars from both bookcases inform my thinking? As a Christian academic, am I biased to what those outside my tradition have to say? At times I fear that those within my religious tradition are well educated, but not well rounded. If, as St. Augustine suggested, all truth meets at the top, then I have nothing to fear. If something is true, then it is God’s truth.

The essay you are about to read originated by allowing feminist scholars to converse with the Scriptures. When I got to grad school I sadly knew little about the plight of women activists such as Lucy Stone, Alice Paul, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Susan B. Anthony. I had no idea of their long struggle to obtain a rhetorical presence—a presence that would not merely secure the right to vote but allow them to advocate for others. Truth be told, attending church made me skeptical of anything with the “feminist” moniker. However, the more I studied the more I realized feminist and biblical writers were concerned with many of the same issues—how to help women and other marginalized pockets of society gain a rhetorical voice. While they may not always agree on the answers, they were struggling with the same questions. Allowing them to converse with each other deepened my understanding of feminism and the Scriptures.

Jesus the Feminist

In his provocative essay, Jesus the Logician, philosopher Dallas Willard writes:

Few today will have seen the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘logician’ put together to form a phrase or sentence, unless it would be to deny any connection between them at all. The phrase ‘Jesus the logician’ is not ungrammatical, any more than is ‘Jesus the carpenter.’ But it ‘feels’ upon first encounter to be something like a category mistake or error in logical type, such as ‘Purple is asleep,’ or ‘More people live in winter than in cities,’ or ‘Do you walk to work or carry your lunch?’[1]

When Willard makes the argument that Jesus should, at minimum, be considered as intellectually rigorous as Aristotle, Kant, or Heidegger, people are incredulous. “There is in our culture an uneasy relation between Jesus and intelligence, and I have actually heard Christians respond to my statement that Jesus is the most intelligent man who ever lived as an oxymoron.” Why is it advantageous to frame Jesus as an intellectual? “My hope is to enable us to see Jesus in a new light: to see him as doing intellectual work with the appropriate tools of logic, to see him as one who is both at home in and the master of such work.”[2]

If linking “Jesus” and “intelligence” causes an uneasy reaction, what response would be elicited by linking “Jesus” to “feminism?” While speaking at an academic conference my claim that Jesus anticipated and addressed many of the concerns of first wave feminists drew skepticism from both self-identified Christians and feminists. This paper seeks to show that such skepticism is unwarranted.[3] Far from being an oxymoron, framing Jesus as a feminist accurately reflects his rhetoric, interaction with women, and social justice agenda. Instead of turning a blind eye to the plight of women, Jesus advocates for them.[4] In order to frame Jesus as a religious leader concerned with first wave feminist priorities, we need to understand the three distinct waves of feminism.[5]

Feminism as a Rhetorical Movement

“Rhetoric is persuasion; rhetorical movements are collective, persuasive efforts to challenge and change existing attitudes, laws, and policies.”[6] A common misperception is that the genesis of the Women’s Movement was the 1960s. The rhetorical efforts of women—and men—to identify and address limiting and often dehumanizing attitudes, policies, and hegemonic structures toward women can be broken down into three rhetorical waves.[7] To argue that feminism progressed in three overlapping rhetorical waves is not to suggest that all participants sought to advance a unified ideology. In each wave, two competing ideologies sought to influence rhetorical goals and strategies. Liberal feminism maintains that women and men are fundamentally equal in most respects and should share equal rights, roles, and opportunities. In contrast, cultural feminism argues that men and women are fundamentally different and should embrace different rights, roles, and opportunities. These differing ideologies make it impossible to stereotype feminist concerns and strategies. The focus of this paper is to explore the central concern of those engaged in the first wave.

First Wave of Women’s Movement: Establishing a Rhetorical Voice

Fundamental to the concerns of first wave activists was the issue of voice. Gilligan notes that to “have a voice is to be human. To have something to say is to be a person.”[8] Myerhoff, in her study of abandoned senior citizens in a secluded Jewish nursing home, concluded that “unless we exist in the eyes of others, we come to doubt our own existence.”[9] Central to existing in the eyes of others is to have a rhetorical presence and voice. The desire to secure a voice for women came out of a deep-seated frustration of not being able to advocate for others. Communication theorists define social justice as “the engagement with and advocacy for those in our society who are economically, socially, politically, and/or culturally under-resourced.”[10] A social justice orientation entails giving a voice to those in our society whose perspective has been ignored due to lack of social status. This commitment complements the Latin origins of the word communication. Schultze notes that the word communication originates from the Latin word for community and common. He concludes: “Language, in particular, enables us to commune with one another for the sake of defining and addressing our shared interests as citizens.”[11] The shared interests of a community cannot be fully explored, and social justice cannot be attained unless every member has a voice and presence. Two seminal moments in the first wave painfully showed women that they lacked the ability to advocate for the shared interests of others.

 Seneca Falls Convention

Adopting a social justice orientation, many women sought to advocate for those oppressed by slavery. A key moment in the fight against slavery occurred in 1840 when the World Anti-Slavery Convention was held in London. Lucretia Coffin Mott was chosen as a representative, but upon arriving at the convention was not allowed to participate due to her gender. While in London she met Elizabeth Cady Stanton whose husband was a delegate to the convention. Both ladies were deeply troubled that Mott was excluded and formed a plan that would place an indelible mark on the first wave.

Back in the United States these two pioneers organized the first women’s rights convention—the Seneca Falls Convention—which was held in New York in 1848. The keynote address, modeled after The Declaration of Independence, was written in part by Mott and Stanton and entitled, The Declaration of Sentiments. It was passionately delivered by Stanton and read in part:

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men and women are created equal; That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among These are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.[12]

The rest of the speech addresses salient examples of women being denied a voice as evidenced by the inability to vote, exclusion from most of higher education, and a lack of say concerning property rights in marriage. After the speech 68 women and 32 men, including Frederick Douglass, signed a petition supporting the rights of women and their desire to establish a rhetorical presence. The speech added fuel to a public dialogue that would ensue for the next 72 years and culminate on August 26, 1920, when a constitutional amendment was passed granting women the right to vote.

A’n’t I a Woman?

 If white women during the first wave felt muted, imagine the perspective of black women!  Isabella Van Wagenen, after being emancipated from slavery, became a Pentecostal preacher at age 46. Adopting the name, Sojourner of God’s Truth, she passionately supported the temperance movement and the abolition of slavery. But first, she needed to secure a voice as a woman and a person of color. In her speech, A’n’t I a Woman? Sojourner Truth helped audiences understand the double oppression suffered by black women. Speaking in her second language, she gave voice to hurts seldom considered by whites.

Dat man over dar say dat womin needs to be helped into carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de best place everywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages, or ober mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And a’n’t I a woman? . . . I have borne thirteen children and seen ‘em mos’ all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, non but Jesus heart me! And a’n’t I a woman?[13]

This seminal speech would later inspire second wave activists to claim the term, womanists, to describe how African American women face unique challenges—singleness, less formal education, less pay, responsibility of supporting families—than their white middle-class counterparts.

Why were woman such as Mott, Stanton, and Sojourner Truth so committed to securing a voice?  Communication theorists offer two compelling reasons.

 The Power of Naming

Wood notes that naming “is perhaps the fundamental symbolic act” and is crucial in that “naming evokes notice and confers importance; conversely, not naming obscures awareness and significance.”[14] Prior to the 1970s the term sexual harassment did not exist to name unwelcome verbal or nonverbal behavior of a sexual nature in which professional advancement or success is dependent on sexual responsiveness. Before this term came into our legal and cultural vocabulary many women in the workforce believed that lewd remarks, sexual banter, pinups on the walls, unwelcome physical touch, or demeaning sexual jokes were simply “boys being boys” in the workplace. Only when these actions were named and recognized by the courts did men and women more readily perceive the reality and occurrence of sexual harassment. The same could be said of marital rape laws. Until the late 1970’s, most states did not consider spousal rape a crime. Typically, spouses were exempted from the sexual assault laws. Harding notes: “Women have had to learn to define as rape those sexual assaults that occur within marriage.  Women had experienced these assaults not as something that could be called rape but only as part of the range of heterosexual sex that wives should expect.”[15] Once the courts recognized a spouse’s right to decline certain sexual acts, marital rape law was conceived, or named. Today, spousal rape laws are in effect in all 50 states. To have a rhetorical voice is a prerequisite for naming a particular experience from a particular point of view.

Standpoint Theory

Not everyone born into a particular culture perceives that culture in the same way. Standpoint theorists argue that a person’s social location within culture and the particular groups he or she is born into powerfully shapes how he or she thinks about others, himself or herself, and the social world. The roots of standpoint theory are linked to the observations of 19th century German philosopher Georg Hegel who noted that the institution of slavery is perceived differently based on social location. The slave owner or master has the luxury of only needing to view slavery through the lens of his own perspective and self-interests. What a slave may think about him or his rules is irrelevant. The slave, however, must be keenly attuned to the master’s changing preferences and opinion of him. To neglect engaging in perspective-taking with the master could prove dangerous. Hegel’s conclusion was that, where power relationships exist, there is never one single perspective of society. Ironically, while the perspectives of those in lower class locations tend to be ignored or devalued, they may actually have a more comprehensive perspective of society than those in power. First wave feminists argue that, due to years of cultural devaluing and discounting the experiences of females, women may have a fuller picture of the power dynamics of culture. While their voices are often muted, women may offer invaluable insights into the workings of society. To share those observations, women need a voice.

Jesus and Women

Women in first-century Palestine had no credibility or voice in a male-dominated culture.  Jeremias in his book, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus, describes how a woman’s voice or perspective was routinely devalued or silenced. First, women had no value as persons. Jewish culture took the legal position that the acquisition of a wife was compared to the acquiring of a Gentile slave: “She is acquired by money, or by writ, or by intercourse.”[16] Second, a woman was expected to remain invisible and silent while in public. Johanan of Jerusalem, one of the oldest known scribes (c. 159 BC), advised: “Talk not much to womankind.”[17] Cultural rules forbid a man to acknowledge a woman publicly, or even look at a married woman. A woman who ignored these rules and exercised her voice in the streets could be “divorced without payment prescribed in the marriage settlement.”[18] Third, the value of a women’s testimony was equivalent to that of a slave or child. Many religious figures of the day viewed women as liars based on Sarah’s deceitful answer to Abraham concerning her laughter at the thought of bearing a child (Gen. 18:15).

How would Jesus react to the plight of women described above? In his study of Gentile bystanders during the holocaust, Gushee notes that typically “people act with care and compassion on behalf of their lovers, children, dear friends, and other loved ones, even at great risk or sacrifice to themselves.”[19] However, a bystander’s compassion is often limited to that small circle of significant others. Would Jesus limit his concern to his small group of male followers? Would it be worth the risk to his mission or religious reputation to advocate for those with no cultural value or voice? Gushee and Stassen note that Jesus shattered the social taboos surrounding male-female interaction and conclude that there “is no evidence that Jesus ever treated women with anything other than full respect—an extraordinary practice in his context.”[20]  Christ not only acknowledges the humanity of women—a core value of social justice—but elevates their status and importance in the furthering of his kingdom. The respect described by Stassen and Gushee is evident in the powerful role Christ gives women in the telling of his life, death, and resurrection.

In his book, Informing the Future: Social Justice in the New Testament, Grassi notes that in Mark’s Gospel everything depends on the eyewitness accounts of Mary Magdalene and her female companions. Mary Magdalene’s involvement is particularly problematic since Luke (8:2) records that she was once demon possessed thus marginalizing her even further. Mark makes it clear that women were the primary witnesses of Christ’s death and placement in the tomb.

To emphasize this witness, the author keeps repeating the verb to see. They [the women] saw him dying on the cross (15:40); they saw where he was laid (15:47); They saw the stone rolled back (16:4); they saw the young man dressed in white garments, who directed them to see the place where Jesus had lain (16:5,6).[21]

To a culture that devalued and dismissed the testimony of women the Gospels elevate their perspective and place their testimony or voice at the center of the resurrection narrative. In doing so, the social norms of the day that sought to silence women are challenged and turned on their head. A woman’s voice, so devalued and marginalized, becomes the foundation for the veracity of Christ’s resurrection.

Christ also elevates the status of women by singling out the actions of one woman and commands that what she has done for him should be told whenever the gospel is proclaimed.  What actions are worth such an enduring tribute? While in Bethany, Christ stays in the home of Simon the leper. He reclines at a table as a woman comes into the room with a vial of extremely expensive perfume. She shocks everyone by breaking the vial and pouring it over Jesus’ head.  Those watching, led by Judas, are indignant. They are of the opinion that the perfume has been wasted, when it should have been sold to assist the poor. Jesus disagrees. What the disciples call wasteful, he describes as beautiful. McKenna notes: “Mark translates the Greek word kalos as ‘good work’ (vrs. 6), but in its larger meaning, it conveys a sense of beauty that gives goodness and artistic glow beyond its instrumental value.”[22] At the heart of the first wave of feminism is the idea that everyone’s words, actions, and perspectives are worthy of our attention and acknowledgement. Christ acknowledges the actions of this woman and commands that “wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her” (Mk. 14:9). As we write about this today, her voice lives. The value that Jesus placed on a woman’s perspective and voice did not end in his martyrdom. Rather, his followers continued to value the voice of women.

The Early Church

The Christian church, since its infancy, has supported a social justice orientation that mirrors first wave feminist concerns. In his book, The Rise of Christianity, Stark asks a provocative question: How did an obscure, marginal Jesus movement become the dominant religious force in the western world in a few centuries? Stark concludes that acknowledgement and inclusion of women helped the early church grow in numbers and influence.

Treatment of Women

The status of women in Roman times was extremely low. Consider the treatment of Athenian women:

Girls received little or no education. Typically, Athenian females were married at puberty and often before. Under Athenian law a woman was classified as a child,   regardless of age, and therefore was the legal property of some man at all stages of her    life. Males could divorce by simply ordering a wife out of the household. Moreover, if a       woman was seduced or raped, her husband was legally compelled to divorce her.[23]

Infanticide and abortion were rampant in Greco-Roman culture.[24] While only healthy, well-formed babies were allowed to live, female babies were especially at risk. Stark quotes from the letter of a husband writing to his pregnant wife that reflects the cultural attitude of the Greco-Roman world.

I ask and beg you to take good care of our baby son, and as soon as I receive payment I shall send it up to you. If you are delivered of a child [before I come home], if         it is a boy keep it, if a girl discard it. You have sent me word, ‘Don’t forget me.’ How can I forget you. I beg you not to worry.’[25]

Fathers had the full power under Roman law to discard any unwanted infants. These unwanted infants, typically female, were merely placed outside where the elements took their toll, or birds and animals would attack. Such actions had the full support of Rome’s most noted statesman.  Seneca writes: “We slaughter a fierce ox; we strangle a mad dog; we plunge a knife into a sick cow. Children born weak or deformed we drown.”[26]

Adult married women seldom existed on equal footing with husbands and had little say in the marriage. While virginity and fidelity were demanded of brides, “men tended to be quite promiscuous and female prostitution abounded in the Greco-Roman cities—from the two penny diobolariae who worked the streets to high-priced, well-bred courtesans.”[27] From a social justice perspective these women were socially, politically, and culturally under-resourced. They had no voice to protest, or power to change their status in a Greco-Roman world.

In contrast, women found life in the Christian community to be qualitatively different. First, from earliest Christian writings emerged an unwavering opposition to abortion and infanticide.  In the Didache, a first century collection of Christian teachings and practices, we read: “Thou shalt not murder a child by abortion nor kill them when born.”[28] This prohibition continued through the writings of Justin Martyr, Athenagoras, Minucuis Felix, and on. Because abortion and infanticide were banned, birth rates—especially among females—soared within the Christian community.

Second, women were not merely tolerated within the Christian community, but assumed positions of leadership. In Romans 16:2 Paul specifically highlights the contributions of “our sister Phoebe” who played a vital role in the church at Cenchrea. Clement of Alexandria wrote of women deacons and the Council of Chalcedon in 451 laid out qualifications for a deaconess.  “Deacons were of considerable importance in the early church,” notes Stark. “They assisted at liturgical functions and administered the benevolent and charitable activities.”[29]

Last, the church expected both husbands and wives to embrace marital fidelity and to love and respect each other. Paul specifically exhorts husbands to “love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph. 5:25). Similarly, husbands are to “love their wives as their own bodies” (Eph. 5:28). Just as ridiculous as it would be for a man to hate and abuse his physical body, Paul argues that it equally absurd to hate and harm a wife who has become one flesh with him (Gen. 2:23-24). Peter tells husbands that they are obligated to be considerate and respectful to wives and mindful that as a physically “weaker partner” they are vulnerable to physical abuse (1 Pet. 3:7). Peter warns husbands that if they fail to treat their wives in an honorable way their prayers will be hindered and their relationship with God marred.  Considering the imbalanced and often abusive power relationship between husbands and wives in the Greco-Roman world, Paul and Peter’s admonishment to husbands to be faithful, sacrificial, respectful, and non-abusive toward wives can be seen as a powerful call to social justice in a culture where women were physically and emotionally at risk.

First Wave Continues

I have no say, no position, and I am valueless … Who am I in this world if I am no one in the sight of culture, society, decision-making?

Sometimes I wonder whether men will ever understand that women are human beings and have equal rights to decisions, to be part of society.

In India, it’s still male dominated. To make a way for yourself gets very difficult sometimes, because we are not taking a woman as a human being.

The above words come from women in rural India who participated in a study conducted by me and a Biola research team in the winter of 2007. The words were spoken by women from all walks of life: single, married, widowed, grandmothers, workers at home, workers outside the home, very poor, wealthy, Hindu, Christian, Muslim, highly educated and not formally educated.  Their words demonstrate that, from their perspective, their culture sees them as less than human, “valueless,” and with “no say.”

Today, in many parts of Northern India women need to have their perspectives and voices recognized in order to ensure human thriving. The private lives of Indian women are often filled with abuse from spouses and family members. Through the centuries this violence—emotional, physical, and verbal—has become normalized within many family structures.[30]

The women we interviewed held the conviction that education is central to a person’s sense of self and voice. Two out of every five Indian children do not complete an educational level beyond primary school. Parents are also more likely to pull daughters than sons out of school to help with family responsibilities. Sigh, Thind, and Jaswal state that education widens the mental horizon of an individual. They note that an Indian woman’s lack of education stunts her confidence, limits her sense of self, and later fosters an emotional dependence on her husband.[31]  Participants saw lack of education as a sign that they were not valued by parents and society.  Participants also viewed education as a type of empowerment that could change how Indian girls view themselves. One participant described a lack of education as a type of “imprisonment of the mind” that kept a woman from exploring the world. Another young woman said, “if you’re not educated you are not independent or confident.” This same woman told us that the uneducated are easily “brushed aside” in Indian culture. A lack of education teaches Indian women “to see themselves as being lower.” This theme was dramatically illustrated by an outgoing young woman who answered every question with excitement until she was asked about education. Her demeanor changed when she told us she had no education because she “had to help on the farm.”  For the rest of the interview she kept her head down and avoided eye contact. This dire situation demonstrates that the first wave of feminism is still being waged in many parts of the world.


In the earliest New Testament book written, James states that “true religion in the sight of God” is coming to the aid of “orphans and widows in distress” (James 1:27). Orphans and widows were the most oppressed and marginalized people in Jewish society. Their distress, literally translated pressure, came from their desperate need for food, shelter, and the constant search for an advocate. The Christian Scriptures teach that the marginalized and under-resourced in society should have an advocate—the follower of Christ. To follow the teachings of Christ necessarily entails adopting his concern for the marginalized and oppressed which powerfully aligns with concerns and goals of first wave feminists.


[1] Dallas Willard, “Jesus the Logician,” Christian Scholar’s Review, 28:4, 1999, p. 605.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Sections of this paper first appeared in, Tim Muehlhoff & Todd Lewis, Authentic Communication: Christian Speech Engaging Culture (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Academic, 2010).

[4] One added benefit of framing Jesus as a feminist is that it not only accurately reflects who he was but addresses the claim that conservative Christians regularly engage in selective moral outrage. Daniel Taylor comments:  “We appear to be in a continual lather over things sexual—pornography, homosexuality, abortion, prostitution, adultery, sex education, promiscuity, and fornication—yet we have been amazingly patient, even lethargic, about the evils of racism, and positively resistant to righting the wrongs of sexism. . . has the liberals shouting that they are really the moral ones because they are fighting hunger, injustice, and the like, while conservatives are just interested in getting their long, blue noses into people’s bedrooms.”  Daniel Taylor, “Deconstructing the Gospel of Tolerance,” Christianity Today, Jan. 11, 1999, p. 48.

[5] While the focus of this paper is Jesus’ relation to first wave concerns, it is worthwhile and perplexing to consider his relationship to second and third wave goals. Second wave concerns focus on strengthening a woman’s rhetorical voice and extending it to the workplace, family, politics, the courts, and most controversially, reproductive rights. In advocating for the rhetorical rights of all women—not merely middle-class white women—third wave advocates reject an essentialist view of femininity and embrace a relativistic view that challenges traditional views of gender and sexuality. While Jesus advocates for a woman’s rhetorical voice, he often does not specifically address how that voice should be expressed in society and family life. Issues such as marital roles, participation in politics, and rampant practice of infanticide and abortion, are left to the writers of Scripture and church fathers. In claiming that truth resides in him (Jn. 14:6), we can speculate that while Jesus would support issues of diversity and multiculturalism, he would challenge the relativistic commitments of third wave feminists.

[6] Julia T. Wood, Gendered Lives: Communication, Gender, and Culture, 9th ed. (Boston, MA: Wadsworth, 2011), p. 69.

[7] The three waves can be roughly broken into the following: first wave of the women’s movement occurred from 1840 to 1925, the second wave from 1960 to 1995, while the less fully formed third wave of feminism has been emerging since the late 1990s. The dormancy that occurred between the first and second waves (35 years) can largely be attributed to America’s involvement in two world wars in which women set aside political and social goals to keep America’s war machine running. For example, between 1940 and 1944 six million women left the home to enter the work force—a staggering 500% increase.

[8] Carol Gilligan, In a Different Voice: Psychological Theory and Women’s Development (Cambridge Mass: Harvard University Press, 1982), p. xvi.

[9] Barbara Myerhoff, Number our Days: Culture and Community Among Elderly Jews in an American Ghetto (New York: Penguin, 1991), p. 70.

[10] Lawrence Frey, Barnett Pearce, Mark Pollock, Lee Artz, & Bren Murphey, “Looking for Justice in all the Wrong Places: On a Communication Approach to Social Justice,” Communication Studies, Volume 47, Spring-Summer, 1996, p. 110.

[11] Quentin Schultze, An Essential Guide to Public Speaking: Serving Your Audience with Faith, Skill, and Virtue (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006), p. 13.

[12] Karlyn Kohrs Campbell, Man Cannot Speak for Her: Key Texts of the Early Feminists (New York, Greenwood, 1989), p. 34.

[13] Susan Anthony (ed), History of Woman Suffrage, vol. 1 (New York: Fowler & Wells, 1882), p. 116.

[14] Julia T. Wood, “Gender and Moral Voice: Moving from Woman’s Nature to Standpoint Epistemology,” Women’s Studies in Communication, 15, 1992, p. 3.

[15] Sandra Harding, Whose Science?  Whose Knowledge? Thinking from Women’s Lives (New York: Cornell University Press, 1991), p. 123.

[16] Joachim Jeremias, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus: An Investigation into Economic and Social Conditions During the New Testament Period (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1969), p.367.

[17] Ibid, p. 360.

[18] Ibid.

[19] David P. Gushee, Righteous Gentiles of the Holocaust: Genocide and Moral Obligation, 2nd ed. (St. Paul, MN: Paragon House, 2003), p. 7. Bystanders categorized into the following groups.  (1) Individuals who have no knowledge of a particular moral situation; (2) Individuals who have knowledge but lack resources to make a difference; (3) Individuals who have knowledge, resources, but lack compassion; (4) Individuals who have knowledge, resources, compassion, but feel personal interests outweigh potential risk.

[20] Glen H. Stassen & David P. Gushee, Kingdom Ethics: Following Jesus in Contemporary Context (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), p. 319. The authors offer as examples: “He did not hesitate to touch or be touched by women in order to heal them (Mt. 9:18-26; Lk. 13:10-16). He spoke at length to the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn. 4), and to a lowly Canaanite woman (Mt. 15:21-28). He affirmed Mary in her desire to sit at his feet and receive his teachings along with his male followers (Lk. 10:38-42) and treated both Mary and Martha as close friends” pp. 318-319.

[21] Joseph Grassi, Informing the Future: Social Justice in the New Testament (New York: Paulist Press, 2003), p. 128.

[22] David McKenna, The Communicator’s Commentary: Mark (Dallas, TX: Word Publishing, 1982), p. 280.

[23] Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity (NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), p. 102.

[24] Stark notes that abortion in the Greco-Roman world often consisted of women—many times teenage women—drinking herbal drinks that often proved poisonous to the mother.

[25] Ibid., pp. 97-98.

[26] Quoted in, John MacArthur, Ephesians (Chicago: Moody Press, 1986), p. 316.

[27] Stark, p. 117.

[28] Ibid., p. 108.

[29] Ibid.

[30] Kanchan Sinha, “Citizenship Degraded: Indian Women in a Modern State and a Premodern Society,” Gender and Development, 11, 2003, 19-26.

[31] Ritu Singh, S. K. Thind, & Sushma Jaswal, “Assessment of Marital Adjustment among Couples with Respect to Women’s Educational Level and Employment Status,” Anthropologist, 8, 2006, 259-266.

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