Mary C. Sheridan, Ph.D.

INTRODUCTION

This paper is the continuation and conclusion to the first portion of this paper (Feminine/Sophia) which has been previously published.  This Part II deals with the Masculine/Logos section, arrives at a conclusion to the hypothesis set out in the third question noted in the Introduction to Part I, and adds a “Coda” which attempts to discuss the goddess in modern times.

Note should also be made of the fact that this paper is a “cooperative work” between the writer as indicated in the “by” of this paper and contributions made by Edward Moore, Dean of Philosophy, this writer’s mentor for Ph.D. studies at St. Elias School of Orthodox Theology.  See Preface to Part I previously published.

WORD/LOGOS

Background:

Before beginning this discussion on Word/Logos, a very quick review of historical events that led to Greek becoming the universal language of the time period discussed and of how the religions in the various parts of the Middle East gradually merged and blended will be attempted.  Ruether [1] points out that in 333 B.C.E. Alexander the Great not only conquered Persia but also extended his power to Egypt.  When he died, all these various areas—the Persians to the East, the Egyptians to the West, and many of the countries between these two areas were integrated into the Hellenistic empires.  Greek became the common language used to conduct commercial activities and business in these diverse areas which extended from the farther reaches of the East to the areas of the West conquered and governed by Alexander.  In addition Ruether notes that the “religions of the ancient Near East were hellenized, and symbols of those religions were assimilated into the Greek deities.” 

Ruether then notes that, two and a half centuries later [that is, around the 80s B.C.E] the Romans conquered the entire area discussed, appropriated the hellenized culture they had conquered, and “brought religion under their own imperial sway.”  Ruether points out that the mixing of these many peoples brought about a “mingling of their diverse religious cults.”  Then, in a long discussion, [2] Ruether elaborates on this mingling of religious cults.  She speaks specifically of the various cults—the Eleusinian mysteries, the Dionysian rites, and the rites of Cybele (Greek), the Magna Mater (Phrygia, West central Asia Minor), Isis and Serapis (Egypt), and Mithra (Persia).  All these cults spread throughout the Roman world, even as far as Gaul and England.  She further notes that these “cults were hellenized and elements from one were often assimilated into another.” [3]   In addition she notes that “certain lines of Greek thought with a much earlier history,” [4] triumphed, specifically, “Platonism and gnosticism.”  Ruether notes especially Plato’s creation story called Timaeus and the Poimandres of Hermes Tresmegistus which itself was a “hellenized Egyptian text of the first century CE” [5] The “goal of the soul” in these systems of thought was “to transcend the cosmos and to return to the higher spiritual realm where God and the divine beings dwell.”  These ideas also became promulgated throughout the Roman world.  She further notes that the “philosophical elite” saw themselves as preparing for their “cosmic journey” through “intellectual discipline” but the “ordinary seeker” sought an approach to religion through the various “rites of the mysteries.” [6]

It should be noted, then, that the Prologue of The Gospel according to John must be read in light of those to whom it was addressed.  The Fourth Gospel was addressed to the members of the Jewish synagogue in Jerusalem, of which John’s community was initially a part. [7]   So, to begin this part of the discussion, this paper will start with Bultmann’s discussion on the Prologue of The Gospel according to John.

John 1—Beginning of the Paradigm Shift:

Word/Logos in the Prologue of The Gospel according to John:

Bultmann, [8] notes that while the Prologue of The Gospel according to John must be considered as part of the entirety of that Gospel, he concludes that “one is entitled to treat the Prologue separately.”  While this paper is not concerned with discussion of The Gospel according to John per se but rather is concerned with a discussion of the shift of wording from female/feminine to male/masculine, this paper will follow Bultmann’s idea of treating the Prologue to The Gospel according to John separately from the rest of that Gospel.  In addition, this paper will be concerned with only those verses of the Prologue which are indicated above in the Introduction to Part I.

Bultmann speculates that he believes “it has been satisfactorily established that the Logos speculation of the Prologue of John derives from wisdom speculation present in Jewish sources,” [9] but he does not specify exactly what Jewish sources he refers to nor where in these said sources this satisfactory speculation is.  Bultmann then questions “why a figure encountered in Jewish writings as Wisdom should be called Logos in the Prologue.”  He speculates on several possible answers for this question:

·        Bultmann says the “assumption that the evangelist made the change of his own accord is far from obvious.”  He goes on to say that he thinks “it probable that he [John] intends his Prologue to correspond to the beginning of the sacred book of the Jews.”  Yet, he states that, “most scholars assume that he [John] has borrowed the logos concept from elsewhere.”  There seem to be two problems with this statement:

o       First, it is not clear exactly where the “indirect allusion to the ‘Word’ ”is in Genesis 1.  The only “indirect” reference this writer could find was in a footnote to The Gospel according to John in The New Oxford Annotated Bible, where it is noted, “The Word (Greek ‘logos’) of God is more than speech; it is God in action, creating…revealing… redeeming.” [10]   Reference might also be to the use of the term, en archê, “In the beginning” which are the same two words in the Prologue of John’s Gospel.

o       Second, Bultmann, in his discussion, uses the word “assume” twice and the word “assumption” once in his discussion of possible sources for John’s use of Logos.  Yet he gives no basis for these “assume-ings” and “assumption.” [11]

·        Bultmann then refers to “Philo’s idea of the Logos as a ‘second God’ ”:  “But the most universal of all things is God; and in the second place the word of God.” [12]   Yet here again, Bultmann says, “But a direct dependence on Philo can, I believe, be excluded.  He further elaborates that “There is nothing specifically [emphasis in original] Philonic in the Prologue.”  Yet Bultmann seems to contradict himself in a following sentence:  “In any event there is certainly to be found in it [Philo’s reference to Logos] a parallel to the Logos of the Prologue.” [13]  

It does seem to this writer that Bultmann cannot quite make up his mind in this discussion.  Perhaps it is that Bultmann may be “thinking in writing” as he contemplates these questions—which would be a valid approach to trying to find an answer to these questions.  Yet some statement to such effect would leave the reader with less confusion as to Bultmann’s thought. 

Bultmann proceeds:  “the Logos speculation of Alexandrian Judaism belongs to the context of the speculation of Hellenistic Egypt in whose adaptation of the old Egyptian theogony the Logos plays a special role, one influenced by Stoic thinking, as a cosmic power.” [14]   He further states that if such is the case, “one can readily understand that the Logos should have replaced the older wisdom figure in Alexandrian-Jewish circles.”  In a footnote to this statement, Bultmann notes, “Thoth also appears as a creator deity and as the ‘word of Re’.  And in the Hellenistic period Hermes-Thoth is the Logos both in his role as creative power and as the bearer of knowledge.” [15]  

Thus, this paper will address this Egyptian “connection.”  First, Fowden [16] notes that Thoth “was among the most diverse and popular of all the Egyptian gods.”  He derived much of “his authority from being secretary and counselor to the solar divinity Re.”  Among Thoth’s vast number of functions, [17] Fowden notes that Thoth “came to be regarded as the origin…of cosmic order.”  Fowden goes on to say that by “extension” of his vast number of functions, Thoth “came to be regarded as the lord of knowledge, language and all science—even as Understanding or Reason personified.”  Fowden states further that “Thoth acquired a leading role in the drama of creation itself…who called things into being merely by the sound of his voice.”  In addition Fowden notes that a “common near Eastern idea [is that] speech has creative power.” 

Fowden in a long discussion [18] traces the emergence of Hermes Trismegistus.  This discussion will be concerned with tracing the link between Thoth and Hermes.  Fowden notes that in the “second-century B.C. [the] Jewish romancer Artapanus…wrote an account of the life of Moses in which he assimilated his hero to ‘Hermes’ (i.e. Thoth).” [19]   He goes on to note that Greek settlers “identified Thoth with their god Hermes.”  Fowden notes that both Thoth and Hermes “functioned as messenger of the gods, which in Hermes’s case prepared him…for his characteristic function in the Hellenistic period, as the logos or ‘word’, the interpreter of the divine will to mankind.”  Fowden further states that the “stoics assigned Hermes a still more central role in their theology, magnifying his function from the merely expressive to the creative, and regarding him as both logos and demiurge.”  Fowden further notes that it may even be that the assignment by the Stoics to Hermes of a central role in their theology “owed something to the Egyptian understanding of Thoth as creator.”  Fowden notes that this identification of Thoth with Hermes on the part of the Greeks resulted in “Hermes Trismegistus”—the cosmopolitan, Hellenistic Hermes who was “Egyptianized through his assimilation to Thoth, and in fact known throughout the Roman world as ‘the Egyptian’ par excellence.”  Fowden continues:  “The papyri present the new syncretistic Hermes [that is, Hermes Trismegistus] as a cosmic power, creator of heaven and earth and almighty world-ruler.”  In addition Fowden states that this syncretistic Hermes was one who “may also dwell within the heart of man.”

Summary of the Discussion above on the Prologue of The Gospel according to John: 

It was pointed out in an earlier paper [20] that the community of John was an integral part of a Jewish synagogue; this synagogue was especially important to the survivors of the fall of Jerusalem whose Temple had been destroyed; the synagogue then became the sole means by which the Jews could carry on their religion.  John’s community worked hard to propagate faith in Jesus among the members of this Jewish community.  Eventually John’s community was expelled from the synagogue.  It is also clear that this community had very learned members, among them only two are mentioned, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. 

Therefore, it does not seem a “long stretch” to propose that the prologue to John’s Gospel was meant to attract the learned Jews of the synagogue. [21]   What better way to “grab” the attention of one’s readers than to speak in the syncretistic Hellenistic/Egyptian/Jewish words of the educated Hellenistic Jews of the time. 

Thus, the transition from Wisdom/Sophia to Word/Logos was accomplished by John’s explicit Prologue and use of Word/Logos in the Prologue.  Previously, Philo and Josephus had “danced around” such a transition.  In John’s Gospel it may have been that in an attempt to make the Johannine position clear to the synagogue community, perhaps even to make clear to its own Johannine community members that had been forcibly separated from the synagogue, the author of the wonderfully literary work that is The Gospel according to John used Hellenized Greek/Egyptian terminology to attract Jews to belief in Jesus.

However, there is yet another possibility:  Previously, in this paper, Part I, mention was made that Patai noted that “Word” in Jewish writings, when used as a manifestation of the deity, was “feminine.”  This writer continues to keep in mind the caution mentioned by Ruether in Part I of this paper:  One must read materials in the sense in which they were meant at the time they were written.  Therefore, this writer considers that it could have been that John’s use of the word Logos may not quite have had the impact that is presupposed by so many scholars; it may not have had the strictly masculine understanding that it is presupposed to have had.  In light of Patai’s comment that “Word” when referring to the deity was considered by the Jews to be a “feminine” word, could it have been that Logos was not seen as having a strictly masculine meaning by the Jews of the synagogue of John’s community—or even by the writer of The Gospel according to John himself?  Perhaps in the minds of the readers for whom this Gospel was originally meant, Logos held within the one word both senses—masculine and feminine. 

Yet even if such were the case, the fact remains that over a period of time the attribution of “masculine” to God took place.  The rest of this paper will discuss this transition.

Other Views of the Shift from Wisdom/Sophia to Word/Logos:

Ruether [22] points out that the prologue of The Gospel according to John “presents Jesus as the divine Word that was with God and was God ‘in the beginning.’ ”  She then points out that the Gospel then moves to “reveal the Word” as:

·        The “creator and sustainer of the universe.”

·        The “source of life and knowledge for all creatures.”

·        The “source of eternal life for those who accept him.”

Ruether then goes on to note that the drama of the “divine Logos as creator, revealer, and redeemer” in The Gospel according to John is then told through the stories about Jesus’ life and teachings.  She notes that Jesus in these stories is portrayed as Wisdom when he “feeds and nourishes, gives saving bread and drink, offers the waters of eternal life, and speaks in the revelatory ‘I am’ language’ with which Wisdom praises herself.” 

But Ruether notes crucially that the “shift of language from Wisdom (sophia) to Word (logos) effectively eclipsed the female [emphasis added] personification of this creator-revealer-redeemer.  She notes that the “roots of this masculinization of what in Jewish tradition was a female personification of God have been hotly debated in contemporary scholarship.”  She notes that Philo considered Wisdom as female but only as a subordinate expression of a male God that was considered as the Logos on earth; she goes on to note this shift in grammatical gender was key in the shift from feminine to masculine in relation to God.  She states that the consideration of Jesus, a man, as Wisdom incarnate [emphasis added] added impetus to the shift from “she” to “he.”  In addition Ruether points out that the identification of Jesus as the Messiah, “whose male grammatical gender is more in keeping with both the maleness of Jesus and the images of the Messiah” may have further added to the shift in consideration of God as male rather than female.

Schussler Fiorenza [23] notes that the “Fourth Gospel makes central to its reflections” exclusivist father-son language.  She goes on to note (as opposed to Ruether) that it is not clear in The Gospel according to John whether “Jesus is Wisdom Incarnate…or whether he replaces her.”  She concludes that the “logos title of the prologue…seems not to less but to increase the possibility that the Fourth Gospel understands Jesus as making Sophia present in and through her/his work.”  Then she adds”  “Unfortunately, this Wisdom matrix…remains almost completely hidden…because the narrative does not introduce Jesus as the Son of Divine Sophia but as the only begotten Son of the Father.”  She concludes this thought by saying:

the christological language of the Gospel opens the door to a kind of philosophical/ontological theological reflection that is now able to merge the biological masculine gender of Jesus and the grammatical masculine gender of Logos, Son and Father.  It thereby not only naturalizes grammatical gender, which is not identical with biological gender, but also theologizes it.  [Emphases in original.]

She further notes that the result of this shift from feminine to masculine has changed the “sophialogical determination and qualification of the ‘father’ title” for God; and this sophialogical qualification of God as father has been “almost completely lost in Christian consciousness.”  She very succinctly concludes:  “By ‘naturalizing’ the grammatical masculine gender of Logos, Son, and Father, Christians have forgotten that such conventional masculine gender language is as metaphoric as the grammatical feminine gender language is for Sophia.”

Transition Period

Introductory Thoughts:

The transition period when God went from being referred to and thought of (in what might be called “official” theological circles), as masculine/feminine and feminine to exclusively masculine took a longer rather than a shorter period of time.  This portion of the discussion will not follow a strictly chronological approach, although some attempt will be made to follow a historical/chronological approach. 

It should also be noted that the period of the first two centuries C.E. was a period of ferment.  Pagans (including the multiple syncretistic religions mentioned above), Jews, Christians, Gnostics, [24] Greek philosophers, [25] all were living, thinking, writing, discussing, and debating among themselves during this period.  [What a confusing period this must have been; yet what a time of intellectual ferment, growth, evolving thought, and development it must have been.]

It will also be necessary to set an arbitrary decision of whom to include in the discussion of this transition period and also necessary to set an arbitrary cutoff point of the time period to include in discussion of this transition period, if for no other reason than for space considerations.  This writer then has decided to arbitrarily include only a discussion of the Christian Gnostic Valentinus and his school.  Regarding the Church Fathers, this writer has decided to include the Early Fathers, Clement of Alexandria and Origen in this paper.  This writer realizes that others may disagree and think better choices for discussion could be made.  However, space constraints of a paper (and not a book, for instance) limit what and who can be included in this discussion. 

Terminology and Attitudes of the Time—Specifically in Regard to the Body and to Women:

The attitude toward the goddess in what is termed the “transition period” in this paper was not directly addressed by philosophers and/or sages; that is, there was no direct inveighing against goddess worship as such.  However, the attitude toward the goddess can be seen in the attitudes toward two different concepts:

·        Terminology and attitude regarding the body. 

·        Terminology and attitude regarding women in general.

In some places and among some groups, however, there was no consistency in regard to either or both of these concepts.  Some individuals and some groups adopted an accepting terminology and attitude toward women; still other groups seemed indecisive in regard to women; other groups took a non-accepting terminology and attitude toward women.  Thus, in the section that follows, this paper will trace the goddess and her place in the groups who composed the ferment of the time through their terminology and attitude toward women and the body in general.

One consideration that must be kept in mind throughout this discussion is the caution stated above that Ruether noted:  Materials written in ancient times must be read in light of the times in which they were written.  It is also possible, and a valid procedure, to follow the development of thought and teachings of religious leaders through periods to realize the effects the development of thought and teachings had on religions and the people who believed in them at the time and in following times.  So, what follows in this paper is to be read in this light—any material that follows is not meant to be polemical but to follow the development of thought and teachings in the various groups that were in existence in the period discussed, that is during the last century B.C.E. and the first two centuries C.E.  It should be kept in mind that Part I of this paper followed the development of thought from Wisdom/Sophia; This Part II follows the development of thought through Word/Logos.  At this point in this paper, this Part II follows the development of thought in the transition stage through to what might be called a more “solid” position of the Word/Logos stage in religious thought.

Brown has some interesting material on the body with regard to both men and women.  He notes that (elite) men themselves were under social attitudes and constraints toward the body.  Brown [26] notes that an “unaffected symbiosis of body and soul was the aim both of medicine and of philosophical exhortation.”  With regard to men the body was not permitted to “force its needs upon the tranquil mind….A man unduly preoccupied with his body was an undignified sight….[and] a ‘mark of lack of refinement.’ ”  Brown notes that for a “well-born Greek, no judgment could have been more crushing.”  Yet, Brown notes that, “the ostentatious ascetic was equally distasteful.”  It should be noted here that “well-born Greek” may be interpreted to include men of other countries who had adopted Hellenism and had become Hellenistic in many aspects of their social and cultural life.  Thus, men themselves were under social and cultural constraints in their attitude toward the body.  It should be noted, though, that the “boy’s first ejaculation was celebrated by his family at the feast of the Liberalia” [27] in March.

However, the prevailing attitude toward the bodies of women was even more stringent that that imposed on men’s bodies.  Brown notes that with regard to the body of the young woman, she “was often treated in a similar, matter-of-fact manner” as that of young man. [28]   Yet his statement is not entirely true.  There was no celebration similar to the Liberalia for the young woman when she had her first period, marking her entrance into womanhood.  In fact, Brown himself notes [29] that the “most obtrusive polarity of all” between a man and woman was that of biology:  Women were considered “failed males.” [30]  

Brown notes [31] that in the period of the second century C.E. specifically, “What was at stake was a subtle change in the perception of the body itself.”  He notes that, “men and women of later centuries were not only hedged around with a different and more exacting set of prohibitions.  They had also come to see their own bodies in a different light.”  Not only was a young girl’s becoming a woman not celebrated; in the Jewish religion her first menstruation made her “unclean.”  Leviticus refers to the “menstrual uncleanness” (18.19) of women.  This topic will be addressed later in this paper. 

Lastly, Pagels [32] notes that evidence in her studies “clearly indicates a correlation between religious theory and social practice.”  She notes that in some Gnostic groups women “were considered equal to men” and were considered as prophets; in these same groups women also acted as “teachers, traveling evangelists, healers, priests, perhaps even bishops.”  She then notes that this observation is “not, however, generally applicable.”  She does note in conclusion, though, that “from the year 200 [C.E.]” there is “no evidence for women taking prophetic, priestly, and Episcopal roles among orthodox churches.”  She elaborates:  “This is an extraordinary development, considering that in its earliest years the Christian movement showed a remarkable openness toward women.  Jesus himself violated Jewish convention by talking openly with women, and he included them among his companions.”

Following through on Pagel’s remarks then, it is possible to conclude that while there is no specific information regarding Jesus’ attitude toward the body, note should be made of the contrasting attitude and regard from that of general society Jesus himself had toward women:  He included them in his group of friends and followers, He spoke to them in public when such a thing was simply “not done” (the Samaritan Woman), He loved them (the sisters of Lazarus).  Thus, it is clear from The Gospel according to John that Jesus had a most unique attitude and approach to women for a man of his times.  It may be speculated that Jesus’ attitude toward the body was indirectly expressed in his attitude toward women.

Specific Groups/Individuals in the Transition Period:

The Jews:

Plaskow [33] notes that

Women’s experiences have not been recorded or shaped the contours of Jewish teaching because women do not define the normative community….The maleness of God calls for the silence of women as shapers of the holy, but our silence in turn enforces our Otherness and a communal sense of the “rightness” of the male image of God.

She further notes: [34]  

If polytheism had a particular hold on women, this might be partly explained by the numerous roles open to women in the polytheistic rites of the pre- and non-Israelite ancient Near East….With the prophetic rejection of pagan deities [35] and the consolidation of the all male priesthood of Yahweh, women were barred from any leadership role in Israelite worship.  Their involvement in worship was voluntary and limited by menstrual taboos that would have rendered them unclean a good part of their adult lives.

She further notes [36] that “biblical taboos surrounding menstruation and childbirth” were considered “disqualifiers for participation in the sacred,” even from “approaching [emphasis added] the divine presence in the Sanctuary or the Temple.”  She notes that according to Leviticus 12 childbirth excluded a woman from the “sanctuary for thirty-three days in the case of a male child, sixty-six days in the case of a female” child. [37]   She notes that the “normal functioning” of women’s bodies “left women unable to participate in sacrificial ritual for a significant proportion of their adult lives” and that these restrictions were “vastly expanded” as time went on—control of women’s bodies extended to “laws of female modesty, careful management of women’s public conduct, and elaborate control of social relations between the sexes”; she notes that these laws eventually went so far as to consider it “improper for a nonfamily member to greet a woman, even through her husband.”  This last restriction would have the effect, in the opinion of this writer, of making the woman as if she were non-existent in many social situations.

Plaskow [38] goes on to note that eventually, the Levitical laws concerning ritual impurity in general gradually “fell into disuse” after the destruction of Solomon’s Temple; but the laws of niddah (the menstruant) were “transferred to the realm of family life and sexual taboo.”  She notes that as “hostility toward female sexuality grew and was elaborated in the rabbinic and medieval periods”; terms such as “bet hatorfa (place of rot) were used to designate the uterus and prophetic passages filled with sexual disgust became the basis for legal exegesis.”  She goes on to note that the period of uncleanness associated with menstruation was increased from the original seven days to the “actual period of flow plus seven days” and that a menstruating woman was like a “viper who kills with her glance.” 

Thus, using the “measuring stick: of attitudes toward the body (especially women’s bodies) and social and religious attitudes toward women, it seems “safe” to conclude that Judaism eventually, at least officially managed to “kill” the goddess.  [Yet, note the discussion of Shekhina, Matronit, Lilith, and Sabbath in the “Coda” of this second part of this paper.]

Paul and His Community: 

This discussion will start with a short note regarding Paul himself:  Fowden [39] notes that the “Lycaonians, [40] who were sufficiently un-Hellenized to have retained their native language, had no difficulty in recognizing the apostle Paul as Hermes come down to earth, ‘because he was the chief speaker.’ ”  Fowden goes on to note that the “Stoics assigned Hermes a still more central role in their theology, magnifying his function from the merely expressive to the creative, and regarding him as both logos and demiurge.”  Fowden also notes that it might “even be that this development owed something to the Egyptian understanding of Thoth as creator.”

With regard to Paul’s teaching and his writings and recommendations to his communities, scholars tend to be in agreement; differences seem to be only in how they express their “concept” of Paul and how they “evaluate” him.  Brown [41] calls Paul the “most startlingly idiosyncratic of all the followers of Jesus.”  With regard to Paul’s opinion and thought about the body, Brown [42] notes that Paul saw the “human body as in a photograph taken against the sun:  it [the body] is a jet-black shape whose edges are suffused with light.”  He notes that for Paul the body was an earthen vessel that “glowed with a measure of the same spirit that had raised the inert body of Jesus from the grave: ‘so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh’ ” (IICorinthians 15.43).  Brown further notes, however, that in Romans 7.18 [43] Paul gave the “sharpest expression that he ever gave, in any of his letters, to his sense of a terrible darkness that had gathered in the heart before the blaze of Christ’s resurrection.”  Brown notes that this statement by Paul was a “particularly fateful ‘theological abbreviation.’ ” [44]   He notes that the “charged opacity of his language” became a “Rorschach test” that laid the “future course of Christian thought on the human person.”  He notes that being the “urgent thinker” he was, Paul “slid together associations” that thinkers of less stature would have “kept apart.” 

With regard to women, Brown [45] notes Paul’s groups were not “newly formed group[s]…of free males.”  He notes that Paul included “former pagans, men and women, slaves and free” in his assemblies.  Paul saw the group as a “new creation”; however, this “new creation” posed problems that arose from “traditional social barriers” and these problems “had to be faced.”  Brown then discusses the various groups that composed Paul’s assemblies; his assemblies were composed of pagans that had little or no knowledge of Judaism, householders who were “far from poor” and who even “owned slaves”; women who were “heads of households in their own right and effective protectresses of the new churches.”  He notes that these diverse members were strong in their own opinions and not hesitant to express their opinions.  Brown notes that these “sufficiently wealthy” members of Paul’s assemblies were “in a position to change the tenor of their lives from top to bottom…[to make] daring experiments in social living.” 

Brown notes, however, “Paul wanted none of this [experimentation in social living].”  Brown discusses that Paul “had every intention of subjecting” the members of his groups to “what he [Paul] evidently considered…the ordinary decencies of Jewish life.”  Specifically, with regard to the body, Brown notes, that Paul states:  “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you?” (ICorinthians 6.19).

With regard to women, Pagels [46] notes that Paul “expresses ambivalence concerning the practical implications of human equality.”  Specifically, with regard to women she notes that Paul “acknowledged women as equals ‘in Christ,’ and allowed for them a wider range of activity than did traditional Jewish congregations.”  Yet, “he could not bring himself to advocate their equality in social and political terms.” [47]   Pagels notes that Paul’s ambivalence is shown in 1Corinthians 14.34-35:  “the women should keep silence in the churches.  For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate….If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home.  For it is shameful for a woman to speak in Church.” 

But Pagels also notes concerning verses 34-35 of ICorinthians 14 that it may have been “written by Paul or inserted by someone else.”  Pagels concludes that Paul’s contradictory attitudes reflect a time of social transition as well as the diversity of cultural influence on churches scattered through the known world.”  In addition, to further reinforce her position, Pagels [48] cites 1Timothy.  The New Oxford Annotated Bible states that it is “difficult to ascribe [The First Letter of Paul to Timothy] in [its] present form to the apostle Paul” and notes that this letter was likely written “to deal with conditions confronting the church a generation after Paul’s death.” [49]   Thus, this letter may have been written just before or at approximately the same time that John’s Gospel was written.  It seems to this writer that parts of this Epistle seem to have been written specifically to “undo” some of Paul’s more radical ideas.  Specifically: [50]  

·        Regarding bishops:  “Now a bishop must be above reproach, the husband of one wife” (3.2).  Obviously, this statement leaves no room for a female bishop.

·        Regarding deacons:  “Deacons…must be serious….must be tested first; then if they prove themselves blameless let them serve as deacons. The women likewise must be serious….faithful in all things.  Let deacons be the husband of one wife.” (3.8-12).  This statement seems to “give with one hand”—implying at first that deacons might be women and then “takes away with the other hand” by noting that the deacon must be the “husband of one wife.”

·        Regarding widows [and the attitude toward women]:  “they learn to be idlers, gadding about from house to house, and not only idlers but gossips and busybodies…So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, rule their households…If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her assist them; let the church not be burdened, so that it may assist those who are real widows” (5.13-16).  This last is a strange statement as it implies that a real widow is only one who has no extended family members whatsoever for her to take care of (or who can take care of her). 

·        Regarding slaves:  “Let all who are under the yoke of slavery regard their masters as worthy of all honor….Those who have believing masters must not be disrespectful on the ground that they are brethren; rather they must serve all the better since those who benefit by their services are believers and beloved” (6.1-2).  This statement obviously implies that some slaves must have requested freedom from their masters on the basis of the teaching of Paul that both masters and slaves were equal.  In addition, not only does this statement not consider that slaves were equal to their masters, it says that as slaves they should do the “work” of slavery better because their masters are members of Paul’s group (or because the slaves have been allowed to join Paul’s group with their masters).  This is an astonishing statement in light of Galatians 3.27:  “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” [51]   This writer cannot help but wonder how this statement affected the Christian faith of said slaves. 

In addition this Epistle has some interesting statements regarding Gnostics (See section that follows.)  These are:

·        Regarding groups such as the Encratites:  “Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith…through the pretensions of liars…who forbid marriage and enjoin abstinence from foods which God created to be received with thanksgiving” (4.1-3).

·        Regarding Gnostics in general:  “Have nothing to do with godless and silly myths” (4.7).

·        And most specifically regarding Gnostics:  “Avoid the godless chatter and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge for by professing it some have missed the mark as regards the faith” (6.20).

So it seems clear that while Paul’s actual ideas were intensely revolutionary; yet, when he realized the problems that his ideas brought to the social situations of the time, it seems Paul himself—and especially others who followed him—reverted to the “safe” area of abiding with the thought of the times.  This writer is of the opinion that Paul was a man very much ahead of his times.  His ideas were absolutely revolutionary.  It is too bad that the end result of his “great experiment” reverted to the conventions of the time; what might the Christians have become and represented to the world if Paul had stayed his course of forging his “new creation?”  How might the egalitarian approach of Paul’s original comments have affected the place of the feminine in religious thought of the time?  Yet Paul himself, and especially his followers, reinforced the masculine in religious thought through their ultimate position that reinforced the trend of the time.

Gnostics—as Represented Primarily by Valentinus:

Initial Remarks on Gnostics:

Pagels [52] notes that “two very different patterns of sexual attitudes [emerged] in orthodox and gnostic circles.”  She notes that, stated simply, many Gnostics who were Christian correlated “their description of God in both masculine and feminine terms with a complementary description of human nature.”  She goes on to note that many Gnostic Christians incorporated the “equality between men and women into the social and political structures of their communities.”  In other words, many Gnostic Christians lived, or attempted to live, the ideal that had been originally set up by Paul. 

However, Pagels also notes that there were some exceptions to this pattern:  “Gnostics were not unanimous in affirming women.”  The two Gnostic documents Pagels cites for this argument are The Gospel of Philip and The Book of Thomas the Contender; however, according to Layton [53] these materials are dated before C.E. 350.  One might then conclude that during the first two centuries C.E. that this paper has noted as a transition period, the Gnostics themselves were in a state of ambivalence regarding the place of women in their churches.

This paper, then, will choose one group of Gnostics as representative of Gnostics in general—to show both their acceptance of women and their ambivalence in regard to women.  This group will be that group represented by Valentinus.  Due to space constraints, this paper will present a summary rather than an exhaustive discussion of Valentinian teachings.  Along the way in this Valentinian discussion other groups will be included to show contrasting views of a particular Valentinian teaching or opposing views. 

Background on Valentinus:

Brown [54] states that Valentinus went to Rome from Alexandria in C.E. 138 and stayed there until 166; in fact at one point Valentinus was considered a possible candidate for Bishop of Rome. [55]   Moore notes that when Valentinus “lost the election…with it Gnosticism lost the chance of becoming synonymous with Christianity, and hence a world religion.” [56]  

Brown notes that Valentinus was head of a small Christian group that included both men and women. [57]   Valentinus made a “deliberate choice of myth as the preferred vehicle of… teaching.” [58]   In elaborating on the myth Valentinus chose, Brown notes that the myth “mapped out the future trajectory of a process that would bring spiritual health to its hearers.”  Brown addressing the attraction of Gnostic myth notes significantly:  “Deeply alien though such mythical narratives might appear to us, the Gnostic myths addressed a pain and expressed an urgency too deep for the stale words of philosophical demonstration.” [59]   In this writer’s view some people are attracted by the strictly intellectual realm of thought and study; for others, though, this writer agrees with Brown that a purely intellectual approach to religion (or almost any topic) is not only “stale” but also lacking in any real attraction to a feeling human.  This last point is not meant as a criticism of those who appreciate and enjoy the purely intellectual approach to a topic but is only meant to point out differences—and it is in the differences as complementary to one another that the entirety of a thought can be appreciated. 

It will also be clear from the summary of Valentinus’ myth below that in what is called in this paper the transition period, Valentinus did not “transition” from Sophia to Logos.  The summary below will also attempt to make clear Valentinus’ attitude toward the body and to women. 

Of note also is Moore’s observation that Valentinus’ myth was one of the “systems of Gnostic theology that comprised the beginning of Christian theology.” [60]   Thus, Valentinus’ system was a very important one for the development of Christianity.

Summary of the Teachings of Valentinus: [61]

“Central to the Valentinan system” was “the myth of the fall, the repentance and the return of Sophia.” [62]   Sophia, according to Valentinus, was

the mighty, all-embracing principle of God’s Wisdom, personified in the nurturing, intimate, ever-fertile Sophia, [who] had once stood before God in the “Place of Fullness,” the Pleroma.  She had been one of a multitude of eternal, unshakeable forces that gave order to a purely spiritual universe….Sophia wished to know god as He knew himself.”

Sophia wished to replace God as creator of human beings in her own right.

Sophia, as a result, then was responsible for the creation of the “base matter” of the universe; included in this “base matter” was the creation of human beings.  But the “world created by Sophia spoke only of the chasm that separated what was from what should be.” [63]   Specifically, with regard to the human person, the body

mirrored, with terrible precision, the confusion that lay at the root of the physical universe.  The body was deeply alien to the true self….Only the spirit had a right to exist….The spirit, the pneuma was the true person.  It was the enduring bone and marrow around which the body and soul had come to cluster, as labile, tragically vulnerable “flesh.”

Valentinus distinguished not only between the flesh and soul; he distinguished the soul from spirit; he maintained the soul, psyche, was the conscious self; and this conscious self had occurred as an “afterthought.”  The soul “swathed the lucid spirit in a thick fog of doubt, anxiety, and passion”—which then lead to the conclusion, as quoted above, that “Only the spirit had a right to exist.”

But with the coming of Christ, “Sophia had ‘repented.’ ”  If the human person followed her example, he/she could be “progressively healed of the…divisions between spirit and soul, soul and body.” [64]   Brown notes that “precisely because” the view of the world that Valentinus proposed in his myth was “so bleak,” Valentinus offered the members of his group of Christians “hope of redemption that was more drastic than that of any of his pagan contemporaries.”  Valentinus held that the physical universe was a “mistake that must be rectified.  Parts of the universe, the human body among them, would eventually be cast off.”  What remained “would sink back into the spirit.”  The entire “visible world would be swallowed up…into the perfect spiritual order.”  Valentinus held that the redeemed person (that is, the person who possessed gnosis) would “undergo a gigantic mutation.”  There would no longer be “conflicting layers of the self.”  The spirits of Gnostic initiates would be “linked again to their true source”; their anxious souls would be made quiet, and even their bodies would soon “pass from them forever.”  Valentinus held that Christ had breathed on the members of his group “as a man breathes on the dying embers of a fire” and that the spirits of the Valentinian Gnostics would “glow throughout with a single radiance.” [65]

Brown notes that Valentinus did not require of his group the strict renunciation of marriage, as did the Marcionites [66] and Encratites. [67]   But he participated in the thought of the times regarding women.  Valentinus taught that there was a two-stage redemption and used the male/female “polarity” to teach this dual process.  Valentinus taught that the “spiritual principles whose confusion had brought about all that was unnecessary in the universe would regain their stability.” [68]   The “fluid female…would be given form by the dominant male.”  In addition, everything that “was other to the spirit must be absorbed back into” the spirit.  Therefore, the “polarity of male and female…would be abolished.  The female would become male.”  Thus, the only way for a woman to finally achieve full redemption was to finally lose everything that made her female.

There are several ways to consider Valentinus’ teaching regarding women:

·        Valentinus was “radical” in his day in that he accepted women into his groups and allowed them to participate in full redemption—albeit only by eventually becoming men.

·        Valentinus differed radically from other groups:

o       Jews generally considered adult women impure for much of their adult lives.  (See above.)

o       Marcion demanded of his followers sexual abstinence and added a social dimension of celibacy (never marrying or renouncing the marriage to which one was already committed). [69]

o       Tatian’s name generally became associated with groups called “Encratites.”  Encratites held that Christians were men and women who were “continent,” that is, they “ ‘contained’ the urge to have sexual intercourse with each other.”  These groups also added “dietary restraints” of abstention from meat and wine; abstention from both were “intimately linked to the constitutive act of sexual renunciation.” [70]

·        Valentinus was very far indeed from considering women in the sense that the goddess had been considered above—that of crowning and making the god. 

Thus, it is very, very clear that by the first and second centuries C.E. any sense of the goddess had been lost among Jews, Gnostics, or Christians.  (The Valentinians, Marcionites, and Tatians were considered Gnostic Christians at the period considered at this point in this paper.

The Spiritual Fathers [71] of the as yet Unformed Christian Church of the Second to Third Centuries C.E.:

Initial Remarks:

This paper considers only two of the writers of the early Christian Church; however, it is hoped that the two writers who are considered in this paper, Clement of Alexandria and Origen will show the “hardening progression” of thought regarding the body and women (and, therefore, indirectly the loss of the goddess) in this period of transition.  Use of the term “hardening” in the previous sentence is not meant to be pejorative; rather this term is meant to indicate the entrenchment, solid establishment, and taking root of the substitution of a predominantly masculine concept of God for what had previously been a predominantly feminine concept of god or perhaps a concept of god that gave equal “time” (to use a modern term) to both masculine gods and feminine gods.

It should be noted that Moore classifies Clement as one of the “supreme authorities of the post-apostolic era,” but notes he is not a true theologian but instead a pastoral counselor and apologist. [72]   As a pastoral counselor and apologist, Clement would have had great influence on the thought and especially the actions in everyday life of the sincere Christian struggling in this transition period when there were so many groups with their own teachings fighting for the minds of the people of the time.

Clement of Alexandria: [73]

Clement the Person:

Brown describes Clement as “one of the most extensive writers in the pre-Constantinian Church.”  He notes the period in which Clement lived was between approximately C.E. 150 and approximately 215. [74]   Brown beautifully describes Clement as a man who could “charm us into believing that we can be with him in the Alexandria of the second century…walking with sprightly steps across the well-clipped lawns of a Hellenistic suburban villa” and even “retiring discreetly to bed with his spouse.” [75]   What a human and delightful description of Clement.  Yet Brown notes that even though the “human” side of Clement is known from his writings, “Clement the churchman,” Clement the “compiler of the…first complete Biblical commentary in the history of the church” is “almost entirely lost to us.”  He notes that it was the “huge cultural serenity of the man” that later generations “delighted in and preserved.” [76]  

It seems there are no definite dates given for the events of Clement’s life except for the fact of some of the specific events known to have taken place.  So, it is known Clement became a priest. [77]   It should be remembered that he was a loving married man; he married either before or after his becoming a priest.  It is also known that Clement left Alexandria to become bishop of Jerusalem but he died in Rome.  Presumably, his family followed him in what must have been vast journeys for the time. 

Clement lived through persecution.  Although he himself was not a martyr, he personally knew martyrs and knew the effect of martyrdom on the families of those who were martyred.  During the same year that Clement (and his family) left Alexandria, Leonides, a father of seven children in a “provincial town in Egypt” was executed by the Roman prefect.  One of the children of this Leonides was Origen (See below.) who took Clement’s place in Alexandria. 

Brown also states that Clement considered “other Christians, and not pagans, as the true pace setters of Clement’s delightful classicism.” [78]   It is clear Clement was aware of and well acquainted with the many different groups of Christians:  all the Gnostics mentioned above as well as the many pagan, Greek philosophers of the “Greek elites” [79]   It is clear he was a man of his times—an educated Hellenist, very knowledgeable in the learning of his day. 

The Teachings of Clement:

Clement, very aware of the teachings of the Gnostics, including the Valentinians, [80] disagreed with the “quick” mutation type conversion associated with the Gnostics.  He “passionately believed that the slow and patient labor of Christ on the soul” produced as profound a change as the fast conversion the Gnostics offered their initiates; it was those who underwent this “slow patient labor” of the Christian who were the “true Gnostics” in Clement’s thinking.. [81]   Brown opts for calling Clement’s Christians “sages” [82] to separate them from the Gnostics of the time. [83]  

Brown notes that Clement drew on an “extensive use of pagan, Greek sources” for “rules of disciplined deportment” of his followers. [84]   These “rules of disciplined deportment” wrapped his followers “in a web of minute, seemingly insignificant patterns of daily living.”  These rules had as their purpose an unobtrusive communication of a view of the world and of the human person that was special to the followers of Clement.  These rules allowed the followers of Clement to have an “alert sensitivity to others” and a deep conviction that the “body could convey messages as precisely as any words could do.”  These same concepts lay at the “heart of the pagan notion of moral refinement.”  So, Clement set out to apply Christian concepts to “the public man” of an “urban aristocracy.”  However, Clement put a “twist” on these rules:  He applied them “to the more sheltered needs of the believing household.”  (It should be noted here that Clement applied his rules to the married household.)  This emphasis on the married household was closer to the thought and rules that “rabbis had begun to elaborate for conscientious Jews.”  So, the effect of Clement’s application of pagan rules of conduct to the Christian household had a multiple effect:

·        It kept his Christians within the pagan society of the times.

·        It kept his Christians aligned with the Jews of his times.

·        Yet it separated out his Christians from these two groups but at the same time allowed them to influence these two groups. [85]

In a long, extended discussion of Clement’s teachings, Brown elaborates and discusses some of the details of Clement’s writings. [86]   This paper will take out only significant points for discussion.  Brown notes that Clement’s writings “communicated a sense of the God-given importance of every moment of daily life”—especially the daily life of the married household. [87]

Brown notes that one of Clement’s main works was the Paidagogos.  This work was filled with detailed, “egregiously fussy” [88] notes on what might be called today small points of the social etiquette of the times.  This social etiquette of the times included proper social intercourse, grooming, and the general rules to be followed by a “tranquil patriarch” who ruled his wife and children, yet who could put them at ease with the proper tone of voice and correct words.  This writer notes with interest that Clement “wrote with genuine anger of those who summoned slaves by snapping their fingers:  to deny slaves contact through the “gentle harmonies of the human voice was to deny them their humanity.”  This concept, in its day, would have been one to set Christians apart from many pagans in their regard for their slaves.   Brown notes that for Clement it was assumed that

the Christian believer had remained a full member of society.  Married or unmarried, male or female, young or old….Clement’s ideal of the Christian life was permeated by a deep sense of the service of God, as Creator of the universe, combined with an awareness of the presence, in the soul of the believer, of his Word, Christ—an intimate companion, to Whom every detail of the believer’s life must be referred. [89]

Note that in this quote regarding Clement’s teaching, “Christ” is paired with “Word,” and this pairing of these two words is masculine, not feminine.

Brown notes that in order to give some support, “underpinning” to his ideas, he “fell back instinctively on the Stoic views” and “Platonic metaphysics” which were “part and parcel of the intellectual koine of the age.” [90]   The “Stoic Sage” was “presented as a person committed to the unquestioning service of a higher power, made possible by a vivid sense of intimacy with that power.”  But rather than being a “philosophy that…encouraged inactivity, the Stoic showed his virtues in an active life.”  Brown notes that, “Clement identified himself wholeheartedly with the Stoic notion of apatheia, with the ideal of a life freed of the passions.” [91]   The Stoic saw “the passions” as “tendencies built up within [the person] which could force the sage to overreact to any situation,” to charge situations with “personal, egotistic significance that distorted” their true meaning.  The passions for the Stoic “colored perceptions of the outside world with nonexistent sources of fear, anxiety, and hope; or else they bathed it in a false glow of pleasure and potential satisfaction.” [92]  

For Clement, adapting Stoic principles to the Christian life, these passions were not what would be called today “feelings.”  Rather, they were “complexes which hindered the true expression of feelings.” [93]   For the members of Clement’s Christian group(s) the Christian life was not a “harsh buffeting of the body”; rather it was the “right placing of every word…the correct tone and balance” of every phase and aspect of life.  Clement viewed the Christian life as a “final serenity of purpose.” 

Brown notes that “Clement’s serene Christian sage was…no recluse” but was an “active teacher…an administrator” whose care was “souls, even the government of the church.” [94]   Clement’s ideal of this vision of life was

already present in the figure of Christ.  Christ’s servants, the succession of apostles, teachers, and martyrs up to Clement’s own days, made clear that the abiding presence of Christ within the soul could, indeed polish the life of the believer into a clear reflection of His own life. 

Brown further notes that Clement’s “overriding concern…to produce the perfect Christian sage [was never] more obvious than in his views on sexuality and marriage.  His ideas on marriage and sexuality were “written for the ‘moderate’ Christian”—especially the young people, young men and women who were already married and also children who were “approaching marriageable age.” [95]   Clement believed that such groups as the Encratites had “ ‘set their hopes on their private parts.’ ”  Brown notes that Clement was so thorough in his willingness to “tell Christian couples exactly how to conduct their married intercourse” that modern readers “wish that he had not done so.”  Brown notes that the “late classical tendency to demand order even in the act of love reached its peak in Clement’s discussion of marriage in the Paidagogos.”

However, Brown points out that in this specificity regarding marriage and sex in marriage, “Clement…allowed himself to be maneuvered into a stance which pagan moralists had had the good sense to avoid.” [96]   Clement took a position that “intercourse should take place only for the begetting of children” and in so doing it seems he “moved the center of gravity of ancient attitude to the grooming and control of the body out of their accustomed, daytime setting…to rest on the Christian couple in bed.”  Brown further notes that as a result of Clement’s teaching in this regard, he became “robustly insensitive to the emphasis placed by many of his contemporaries on the permanent, menacing ache of sexual desire.” [97]   Brown notes that in Clement’s time sexual “activity, in itself, carried within it no stigma that might debar the Christian from achieving perfection in Christ….Christians were the sexually active younger members of the community….And intercourse was not a matter for old men.”

Brown notes that for Clement, “the spiritually mature Christian” was like a “Hellenistic monarch in miniature,” presiding over a household that was a dim image of the Divine.  Clement saw the Christian church in the late second century as a “loose confederation of believing households”;  he considered that the concept, “When two or three are gathered in My name meant…father, mother, and child praying in a Christian home.”  [Emphasis in original.]  Clement realized that by “accepting marriage, and…the enduring structures of the Christian household…he was also advocating a peculiar and necessary brand of Christian courage.” 

Brown notes that Clement’s writings took people out of “the narrow confines of the radical groups” that coexisted in his time, that Clement’s writings “grafted shimmering twigs of Greek paideia on to a humble rootstock of married Christian morality,” that Clement’s “codes for daily living may have differed little from those of their Jewish neighbors,” and that “Clement’s most daring act, in a time of increasingly vocal radicalism, was to have spoken up, in ingenious and elegant manner, for the married Christian laity.” [98]  

However, Brown notes that in the “upper echelons of the Church, Clement’s voice was soon drowned.”  The copious works written by the bishops and clergy of the third and fourth centuries” and that “now line the shelves of our libraries…abandoned Clement’s mission.  A younger generation of leaders were simply not interested in rethinking the issue of the sanctification of the married” as Clement had done. [99]  

Pagels [100] notes a somewhat different view—although she limits her views to Clement in Egypt about C.E. 180, leaving out any mention of approximately 35 years of his life.  However, she notes that Clement “identifies himself as orthodox, although he knows members of Gnostic groups and their writings well:  some even suggest that he was himself a Gnostic initiate.”  Pagels does note that, “Clement characterizes God in feminine as well as masculine terms,” quoting Clement’s Paidagogos: 

The Word is everything to the child, both father and mother, teacher and nurse…the nutriment is milk of the Father…and the Word alone supplies us children with the milk of love, and only those who suck at this breast are truly happy….the Father’s loving breasts supply milk.

However, this writer notes that here again Clement himself is caught in the situation where on the one hand he is referring to God as feminine yet using masculine terms in the reference.  He has the Christian sustained on the milk of the Father and the Father’s loving breasts supplying milk.  In this passage one can detect Clement’s ambivalence at the early stage of his writings when he was in Egypt regarding the feminine/masculine in regard to God.

Pagels then refers to another quote from Clement’s Paidagogos regarding Clement’s view of human nature: [101]

men and women share equally in perfection, and are to receive the same instruction and the same discipline.  For the name “humanity” is common to both men and women; and for us “in Christ there is neither male nor female.”

Pagels then points out:  “Clement’s demonstration that even orthodox Christians could affirm the feminine elements—and the active participation of women—found little following.”  But Pagels does not note the complexity of circumstances as indicated by Brown.  (See above.)  This writer is of the opinion that Pagels selects out only a portion of Clement’s ideas, that a more complete review of Clement’s ideas as given in Brown would indicate Clement’s views are not so clear as Pagels would indicate. 

In conclusion then, it is clear that Clement had a respect and care for both the human body and women.  In the opinion of this writer, however, there is one caveat:  Clement’s respect for both the human body and women was couched in terms of the “elite male” of the Hellenistic area.  In the view of the “elite male” of the Hellenistic era, anyone who was not an “elite male” really did not “count,” as has been noted above; those other than “elite males” were totally dependent on the learning and what might be called the “good breeding” of the “elite male.”  However, this observation is not meant to completely denigrate Clement and his ideas.  He attempted to incorporate the very best of Greek ideas regarding the body and women into Christian living.  This incorporation was radical in its own time. 

It should also be clear that, while Clement did hold radical ideas regarding marriage, the body, and women in his own time, his ideas were far from any incorporation of the concept of goddess into religion.  Pagels’ idea that Clement included the feminine in his concept of God is obviated by the masculine/feminine confusion of the quote indicated.  While it could be said that if Clement’s ideas had been sustained, the feminine aspect of God might have prevailed in a “confused” way and that if his attitudes toward the body and women had prevailed, the paradigm shift being traced in this paper might have been put off for a longer time or even have remained in a state of confusion.  Yet to no “fault” of Clement, his ideas were not sustained.

As a result, then, a further step in the consolidation of the paradigm change from the inclusion of the feminine in religion and the concept of god to the change to a sole concept of the masculine in religion and the god as masculine gradually continued.  The concretization of god as masculine and the paradigm change was even further solidified under Origen.

Origen:

Moore [102] notes that due to chronological inconsistencies in some of the aspects of Origen’s life as indicated by some of his contemporaries, there is a theory that there were two Origens.  However, Moore notes that this “twin-Origen” theory was not expounded upon until the 1600s, approximately 1400 years after Origen’s death; this theory was proposed by H. Crouzel.  Moore concludes that in his opinion the theory of “twin Origens” is “highly unlikely.”  He derives his opinion from “the standard practice” of the time that had students of philosophy who “compiled study notes” and “even transcriptions of lectures” attributed to Origen.  This writer adds that the chronological discrepancies could easily be accounted for in their own time—the ancients did not have the modern historian’s obsession with time; that is, the ancients did not have a need to exactly place events and peoples’ lives precisely in a time frame that was invented only much later than the period in which these individuals lived.  In addition for a scholar to pretend to conclude almost a millennium and a half later that two people existed instead of one seems nothing short of silly.  The most one could conclude is that there are discrepancies that cannot be definitively resolved.  This writer concludes with Moore that there was one Origen.

Origen the Person:

Brown [103] calls Origen an “exegete and spiritual guide” in his time.  Not much seems to be known of his early life.  Scholars seem to “start” his life with mention of the death of his father in the persecution of Christians that took place between C.E. 200 and 203.  Origen was thought to have been “sixteen or seventeen at the time.” [104]   Brown approximates the dates of Origen’s life as being between C.E. 185-254. [105]   Moore [106] adds that not only did Origen live through the turmoil of persecution with his loved father having been a martyr, but in addition Origen’s lifetime encompassed the “turbulent period of the Roman Empire, when the barbarian invasions were sweeping across Europe, threatening the stability of the Empire.”  In fact, Moore notes that Origen lived “during the reigns of the Emperors Severus, Maximin, and Decius, so that Origen’s life began and ended with persecution.”  Moore also notes [107] that there are “two traditions” regarding Origen’s death:  One is that he died a martyr in Caesarea, and a second is that he lived until he was sixty-nine and died and was buried at Tyre. 

Moore notes that, “Origen’s debt to Holy Scripture is obvious; he quotes the bible at great length, often drawing together seemingly disparate passages to make a profound theological point.” [108]    Among the massive biblical contributions of Origen are his works called Hexapla, Tetrapla, Octapla, and Enneapla, which were respectively the Septuagint that compared in columns the various versions and additions of the Septuagint versions available in his time. [109]   As one reads about the massive work that Origen completed on the Septuagint alone, one cannot but be awed by what must have been the massive intellectual capacity of the man.  However, sad to say, little of these biblical works of Origen are still extant and those only in fragments or in a Syriac version.

Among Origen’s other major writings, this paper will mention only two:  The Commentary on John and De Principiis.  Moore notes this last work is the “clearest and boldest example of his speculative genius, and…contains theories that have caused extensive controversy throughout Christian history.” [110]

Moore notes, further, that Origen’s “thought is…informed by his Greek philosophical education, specifically that of the Platonic tradition.”  Moore notes in an extended discussion the resemblance of Origen to Philo. [111]   In addition Moore discusses at length Origen’s Stoic “connection,” his knowledge of Hellenistic astrology, the Corpus Hermeticum, and the Gnostics; Moore also notes Origen was well acquainted with the writings of the Greek philosophers. [112]   Moore summarizes, stating that Origen was

aware of the more esoteric styles of religious thought, such as Gnosticism, that relied on myth and metaphysical narrative to express a philosophical position, and that he was also informed by the middle-ground speculation of Philo, as well as the mainstream Platonism (or Neopythagoreanism) of Cronius, Moderatus, Nicomachus…and of course the unique contribution of Numenius, a Hellenic philosopher who nevertheless drew heavily and unabashedly upon Hebrew Scripture. [113]

The Teachings of Origen:

This paper will follow Moore’s outline and explanation of Origen’s work.  While Moore points out the inadequacy of trying to understand Origen’s system of thought from just one work of his vast complex of works, he still “believes that [on careful reading of De Principiis] a system emerges quite naturally from a careful reading.” [114]   Moore carefully defines how those of Origen’s time defined a “system of thought.”  Moore notes that judging from the surviving fragments…these works were not presenting a system, as understood in our own time—i.e., as a logically cohesive set of concepts or doctrines—but rather were systematically speculative treatises.”  Moore notes that these writers were not “problem-solving but were rather creatively engaged not only with empirical observations and rational deduction, but with their intellectual past, of which they were often critical, yet upon which they were no less dependent.” [115]   Specifically, this paper will be concerned not with Origen’s entire system of thought but will single out Origen’s thoughts on and treatment of Sophia and Logos. 

Moore notes that for Origen “God is…a personal and active being,” and that in “typical Platonic fashion” Origen sees God as a “divine hierarchical triad” which “instead of calling these principles by typical Platonic terms like monad, dyad, and world-soul, he calls…‘Father,’ ‘Christ,’ and ‘Holy Spirit.’ ” [116]   Moore further notes that since for Origen, God the Father is personal and active, “it follows that there existed with Him, always, an entity upon which to exercise His intellectual activity.  This entity is Christ, the Son, the Logos, or Wisdom (Sophia), of God.” [117]   Moore goes on to note that, “Origen proceeds to show how the Wisdom of Proverbs (specifically, Proverbs 8.22-25) is identical to the Logos of John’s Gospel, i.e., Christ.”  Moore continues to note that Origen, uses the “language of St. Paul” in Colossians 1.15 where Paul states:  “He [Christ] is the image of the invisible God, the first-born of all creation.” 

This writer’s immediate thought on reading this passage is that here precisely is the transition from the feminine in Proverbs (Sophia) to the masculine of John’s Gospel (Logos); in the above passage Origen combines the precise passage from Wisdom quoted on Part I, page one of this paper with the precise passage from John’s Gospel also quoted on Part I, page one of this paper.  But:  On Part I, page one of this paper, Wisdom was considered feminine and Word was considered masculine.  Yet here in this passage Wisdom has become masculine and the reference to the feminine is simply “not there.”  At the very least Origen seems unable to make up his mind whether Wisdom (feminine) is the same as Word (masculine).  This writer then considered that perhaps this was an isolated passage, but it is not.  In another place Moore states [118] that Origen “goes on further to describe Wisdom as the concrete expression of the Father’s mental activity, which he calls His [emphasis added] ‘image,’ having stated earlier that Wisdom ‘contains within herself [emphasis added] both the beginnings and causes and species of the whole creation.’ ” 

This combining of Wisdom and Word, Sophia  and Logos is mentioned several other times in varying contexts by Moore where he refers to:

·        “This correspondence between Origen’s Wisdom (Logos) and Plotinus’ Intellect (Nous) should not be surprising.” [119]

·        Moore notes that Origen in his Commentary on John writes:  “ ‘Christ is, in a manner, the demiurge….But Christ is demiurge as beginning…inasmuch as He is Wisdom.’ ” [120]

·        Finally, Moore details comparison of Origen’s concept of the first god (the Demiurge of Being) with the second god (the Demiurge of Creation) with Numenius’ thoughts on these concepts.  Moore quotes Origen as saying, “But Christ is demiurge as beginning, inasmuch as He is Wisdom.”  Further Moore states that Numenius’ concept of the second god, the Demiurge of Generation corresponds to “Origen’s Wisdom (Logos).” [121]

Moore then concludes [122] that “one cannot escape the implication that the Son—whom Origen clearly refers to as Demiurge—is considered by Origen an imitator of the Father in the act of creation.” 

CONCLUSION:

Thus, it is Origen who has brought the line of thought in this two-part paper to the place where the feminine has been superceded by the masculine.  References that had been obviously feminine for approximately 500 years previously and so referred to or at least implied the feminine in god (a goddess) have now become subsumed into the masculine.  What had once been feminine is now mentioned but in its mentioning is presumed to be and equated with the masculine—Wisdom and Logos  are joined in a kind of conflation of Wisdom/Sophia and Word/Logos.

It should be remembered that at the same time Origen was writing there were still many other groups (e.g., the Gnostics), some of whom included a place for the feminine in God; yet it was these groups who did not “survive.” [123]   The point of this conclusion is not to say that the shift from the inclusion of the feminine in the concept of God to the exclusion of the feminine in the concept of God took place over night—even with Origen’s important influence on the thought of his time.  However, one can see that the transition was gathering momentum, and finally, the feminine was lost in any theological, “officially” accepted concept of God.

CODA—Where Did the Goddess Go?

It is too simple to say that the goddess disappeared—or was “killed” with what might be called a paradigm change.  Rather the question of what happened to the goddess should likely be:  To where was the goddess banished?  Did all believers lose sight of the goddess?  Or did the goddess remain in the minds and hearts of the people—much as she did in the Old Testament when the prophets inveighed against her and banished her?  Yet she has been “officially” banished for almost two thousand years in some religions.  Does she survive in modern times?  Does she survive specifically in the year 2005?  If she does, where exactly can she be found? 

The purpose of this Coda will be to try to “find” the goddess, to find her throughout the centuries down to 2005.  Discussion will center on the Jews and the Orthodox and Roman Catholics; and the group that might be loosely identified with the ancient pagans—those who today might not necessarily follow any organized religion recognized today but who, nevertheless, recognize, seek, and even long for the spiritual in life. [124]

The Jews:

Patai [125] notes that the

latency of the feminine elements in the Jewish God concept for one millennium and a half is a psychologically remarkable phenomenon.  From about 400 B.C.E. to 1100 C.E. the God of Judaism was a lone and lofty father-figure, and whatever female divinity was allowed to exist in his shadow was either relegated to a lower plane, or her feminity (sic) was masked and reduced to a grammatical gender, as in the case of the Shekhina.  Yet in spite of the masculine predominance…popular belief and imagination dwelt in a world peopled and haunted by feminine numina.

So Patai gives the clue, that is, to look for the goddess in the spiritual and mystical, which is at the heart of any religious belief.  The goddess is found in the Kabbala. [126]   Patai further notes that, “ belief in the Shekhina (or Matronit), the matronly, divine figure, who, in a way, functioned as an intermediary [127] between the People of Israel and God, was a simple, easily comprehended idea.” [128]   He further notes that since it met a deep-seated religious need, “it won ready acceptance among wide circles in the Jewish communities everywhere.”  Significantly, he notes that the

image of the wifely and motherly, passionate and compassionate female divinity met with immediate, spontaneous and positive response.  Especially to the popular imagination, the Shekhina was no mere symbol or emanation, but a great heavenly reality whose shining countenance shoved the theoretical doctrine of the Oness of God into the background.  The deep emotional attachment of the simple, unsophisticated…[people] to the Shekhina was comparable to the relationship of the Italian or Spanish villages to their Madonna.  In both cases it cannot be denied that one is faced with the veneration of a goddess, [emphasis added] and it is impossible to dispute that she means more for the satisfaction of deep-seated religious emotional needs than God Himself.

Patai’s discussion of the goddess in the Kabbala is a book in itself.  So, in the confines of this small paper it will be necessary to painfully condense his concepts and give only highlights.  Patai, discusses at length four aspects of the goddess: [129]  

·        Shekhina.

·         Matronit.

·         Lilith.

·        Sabbath. 

Shekhina:

There has already been some discussion of the Shekhina in previous parts of this paper.  This section will add only a few additional comments on the Shekhina. 

Reinforcing the concept that the goddess moved into the realm of the spiritual and mystical, Plaskow [130] notes that “the Shekhinah, the female aspect of God in the mystical tradition” became “in Kabbalism…a feminine element in God alongside the masculine” element.  She continues, noting that this feminine aspect “was never incorporated into the liturgy as an accepted counterweight to the masculinity of God.”  She notes then, that,

[t]wo of the virtues of the image of Shekhinah from a feminist perspective are that it is an image of divine immanence and an image of God in nonhierarchical relation.  It thus deliberately offsets the picture of God as dominating Other and at the same time fits in well with the general emphasis on mutual relation in feminist spirituality.  The Shekhinah…is precisely that aspect of God with which we can be in relation, and it is experienced in joint study, community gatherings, lovemaking, and other moments of common and intimate connection. [131]

This last point of “lovemaking” will be followed through in discussion on the Sabbath.

Matronit:

Plaskow mentions the Matronit only as another term for Shekhina. [132]   However, Patai, in his exhaustive study equates the Shekhina and the Matronit but also implies that the Kabbalistic name, the Matronit, brought with it a polytheistic concept. [133]   Patai calls the Matronit the “central link between the Above and Below.” [134]   He goes on to compare the Matronit to the Goddesses discussed above, Inanna, Ishtar, Anath, Asherah, Cybele, Athene, Aphrodite, etc. [135]   He even notes the Matronit derives from the Kabbalistic tetrad [136] that considered the Matronit as the daughter together with the father, mother, and son who composed the tetrad of this Kabbalistic myth.  Patai notes: [137]

[H]uman existence, always appearing to Jewish consciousness in the multiple form of man, wife, and children, could not be recognized as the true reflection of God, in whose image man was said to have been created, as long as that God was alone.

The removal of this barrier of non-correspondence was a stroke of genius of Jewish mysticism.  The divine tetrad, however successfully explained away on the conscious level, [and] evoked an immediate response on the subconscious emotional level…By marrying and procreating children, the Jewish man now fulfilled a great God-pleasing deed….of the most intrinsic and highest order.  By uniting with his wife, begetting children, and maintaining his family, the Jew acted…exactly as God did because He too lived on high in a family circle of His own, with his Wife, His Son, and His Daughter.

Finally, without naming the Matronit, Plaskow notes: [138]  

Images of a God in process and metaphors taken from the natural world cross religious lines.  For some feminists, however, this dynamic, immanent deity has a face and name:  She is the Goddess.  Drawing on widespread traditions of Goddess worship but also freely modifying them, feminist followers of the Goddess find in her…a rich and life-affirming alternative….The Goddess is, of course, God-She, but in a clearer and more powerful way.  Not simply a feminine reworking of the masculine deity but an ancient power in her own right, she gathers to her all the qualities and prerogatives of the goddesses of many names.  She is Asherah, Ishtar, Isis…Mary, and Shekhinah.  She is lover, creator, warrior, grantor of fertility, lawgiver, maiden, mother, and crone.  All the images predicated of God-She are found in her in their original female form.

Lilith:

Once again Patai has an exhaustive study of Lilith, “she-demon” in the Kabbalah. [139]   Patai states:  “Lilith’s life was spent in two activities:  seducing men and killing children.” [140]   Among other aspects of Lilith, she was considered the first wife of Adam. [141]   One must admit that “seducing men and killing children” as concepts of the Goddess Lilith are decisively negative views of the feminine.

Plaskow, however, allows for a somewhat different interpretation of Lilith; her view takes issue with the Kabbalistic Lilith.  Plaskow notes that she has a “retelling of the story of Lilith as the first wife of Adam.”  She states: 

I retain the rabbinic idea that Lilith was banished [made an evil goddess] for demanding equality with Adam but refuse to judge her an evil demon, perceiving in that label the whole history of male naming of women who refuse to yield to male authority.  My story seeks to expose the patriarchal perspective of the midrash, at the same time exploring the question it leaves open:  What would happen, what is happening, as women’s power begins to be freed and defined by women? [142]

Plaskow’s question is a bold one that has not yet been answered.  It is beyond the scope of this paper to even attempt even a short answer; yet the answer to this question would certainly open a door that at most has barely “squeaked” ajar so far.

Sabbath:

Plaskow notes, [143] concerning the Sabbath, that,

[r]eligious symbols do not simply tell us about God; they are not simply models of a community’s sense of ultimate reality.  They also shape the world in which we live, functioning as models for human behavior and social order.  The Sabbath, for example, as a model of God’s action in creating the world, is also a model for the Jewish community which, like God, rests on the seventh day. 

She goes on to note that, “[w]hen maleness becomes normative, women are necessarily Other, excluded from Torah and subordinated in the community of Israel.  And when women are Other, it seems only fitting and appropriate to speak of God in language drawn from the male norm.”

Regarding the Sabbath, Patai notes that the Sabbath “is an exceptional figure among the female divinities of Judaism.” [144]   He notes that all the goddesses that have been discussed above (from Asherah to Lilith) had their “beginnings in Jewish divine attributes which were conceptualized and personified.”  He then notes that the Sabbath is unique as a goddess among the Jews because this goddess is a “unique example of a day of the week—or more precisely, the name and idea of such a day—having been developed into a female numen and endowed with the character of virgin, bride, queen, and goddess.” 

Yet, in what might be considered a kind of “reinforcing” of Plaskow’s quoted comments at the beginning of this section, Patai discusses “the symbolism of the Sabbath.” [145]   In this discussion, Patai notes that first he is quoting Philo’s “original thoughts” on the Sabbath:

there is another [festival] celebrated, namely that of the sacred seventh day…which some have denominated the virgin, looking at its exceeding sanctity and purity.  And others have called the motherless, as being produced by the Father of the universe alone, as a specimen of the male kind unconnected with the sex of women. [146]

Patai then notes Philo’s concept of Moses and the symbolism of the Sabbath:

Moses found that day [the Sabbath] destitute of any mother, and devoid of all participation in the female generation, being born of the Father alone without any propagation by means of seed, and being born without any conception on the part of any mother. [147]

Patai notes in conclusion that the “Sabbath is described as a daughter of God, begotten by her Father alone without the participation of any female, and therefore motherless.” [148]   This writer cannot help but agree with Plaskow above.  Further, this writer is of the opinion that the concept of a female divinity not born of a female and a virgin and who is motherless does seem to be the concept of a completely misogynist approach to the development of this female deity; this concept does seem an anomaly. [149]

Yet for all the above anomalies, the concept of the Sabbath as a goddess did develop some aspect of the positive.  Plaskow [150] notes that in the Kabbalah [151]

human sexual intercourse, performed with the right intention and within its proper limits, is an imitation of processes within the divine and a symbolic realization of the reunion of God and the Shekhinah….A husband and wife who conduct themselves properly mirror through their human actions the divine creation of the world.  The author [of a popular thirteenth-century mystical text] teaches husbands how to approach their wives…[to] ensure that desire is mutual, checking his [the husband’s] ardor to match hers [the wife’s], so that in their harmony they may enact a divine process.

Patai also notes [152] that on the “Sabbath, a queenly visitor entered even the humblest abode, which, due to her presence was transformed into a royal palace….The mistress of the house became mysteriously identified with the Queen Sabbath.”  He goes on to note as does Plaskow above: 

When midnight came, and the fulfillment of the commandment to rejoice on the Sabbath found its most intense expression in the consummation of the marital act, this was done with the full awareness not only of obeying a divine injunction, but also of aiding thereby the divinity himself in achieving a state of male-female togetherness which God is just as much in need of as man. 

Patai further notes that

the act becomes more than the end-in-itself that in psychological reality it actually is; it becomes a sacrosanct observance directed at a loftier and greater aim:  the exertion of beneficial influence upon the great ultimate realities of the metaphysical world.  And in both it is a female deity whose invisible yet omnipresent countenance is supposed to light up into a benign and pleasurable smile when she observes the fervid performance of her favorite rite.

Christians:

Introduction:

Rae and Marie-Daly [153] note that, “Philo’s influence on early Christian theologians is at least threefold.”  This three-fold influence is as follows:

·        “First, he removed Wisdom from the world and restricted her to heaven, where she is described as the ever-virgin Daughter of God.”

·        “Second, he propagated a negative attitude toward the feminine:  for Philo, the male was normative while the female was material, corruptible, and something to be overcome.”

·        “Third, He changed the sex of the active, powerful Wisdom into that of the male Logos; thus the male Logos fills the roles and functions that formerly were attributed to the feminine Wisdom.”

Rae and Marie-Daly then note in a short summary that the very early writers of the Church, namely, the Shepherd of Hermes, Justin Martyr, Clement, and Origen, followed through on this development of Christology; they “attributed to Jesus the qualities and function of Wisdom.”  However, problems developed:

·        First, “Jewish monotheism insisted on the subordinate status of Wisdom in relationship to Yahweh.” 

·        Second, “this line of theologizing seemed to call for a subordinate status for Jesus in regard to god:  Jesus is not seen as equal to the Father, but rather as the first born of all creation.” 

Regarding Jesus from this standpoint “reached its height in the Arian heresy.”  The Arian heresy was resolved by “declaring the Son equal to the Father.”  These authors then note that declaring the Word equal to the Father “was accomplished at the expense of the Wisdom tradition.” 

Rae and Marie-Daly then note that the “powerful symbol of Mother” was transferred then to the “image of the church” and to “the person of Mary.”  Eventually, then, Mary was “identified with Wisdom.”  These authors then note that, “the equation of Wisdom with the Logos fell into disfavor because of the Arian controversy.”  However, these authors also note that “the texts that made it apparent that Wisdom was, in fact, a person, were eventually applied to Mary.”  It is this line of thought then, that the feminine/the goddess/Wisdom was transferred and applied to Mary; the next section of this paper will pursue this thought.

The Orthodox and the Roman Catholics:

Patrinacos [154] notes that the “title ‘Theotokos’ (God–bearer) has been applied to the Virgin Mary by the Greek Fathers from Origen…onwards.” [155]   Patrinacos notes that this doctrine was “formally upheld by the Third Ecumenical Council at Ephesos in 431 and at the Fourth at Chalcedon in 451.  From that time on, the orthodoxy of the name ‘Theotokos’ remained undisputed in the Church.”  He further notes that on the basis of Biblical references “a number of theological positions have developed together with the liturgical devotion to Mary practiced to this day on the part of the Orthodox and Roman Churches.”  Patrinacos notes that the concept of Mary as Theotokos “must have been in use a long time” before the third century.  He notes that “pictures in the catacombs indicate that she enjoyed fervent devotion” even then.  He further notes that the “deep and extensive veneration of Mary by the Orthodox, especially by Orthodox mothers, has remained.”  To further elaborate on what Patrinacos notes, examination of Icons of Mary is the next appropriate step.

This writer notes that for Christians the question of “Where did the goddess go?” seems to her to be very obvious:  Where else does one combine the concept of “God” and “feminine/female” but in the “Theotokos” (as the Orthodox call her) or in the term “Mother of God” (as the Roman Catholics call her). 

In The Story of an Icon, Ferrero notes that the “language of Marian iconography did not begin with the icons.”  He continues:  “The symbolic and artistic perfection of these works presupposes a long process of crystallization of themes, patterns, techniques and aesthetic expression.  They are the legacy of a long process of development.” [156]

Ferrero’s book is full of early depictions of Mary.  The earliest icon shown and one that admittedly was amazing to this writer is a wall drawing that is a fresco from the 200s C.E.  This fresco is on the wall in the Catacacomb of Priscilla in Rome and portrays what appears to be a woman dressed in simple clothing, holding a baby that is obviously an infant, as opposed to a toddler or even a somewhat older child.  This fresco is a very simple rendering of a seated woman holding a child—an ordinary woman.  Ferrero notes this fresco is a depiction of Mary holding Jesus. [157]   [See Patrinacos above.]  Another simple depiction of Mother and Child is what is called by this writer a simple line drawing (although artists may call it by some other term).  This depiction is also from an “Inscription on a tomb in catacomb of Priscilla, Rome” and is one of “The Virgin Mother of the promised Messiah at the Epiphany”; Ferrero notes that it contains “key elements” that indicate it is one of Mary and her child.  These “key elements” are those of the Mother and child and a prophet pointing to a star. [158]

Ferrero further notes that there are “a very limited number of archetypes from which…icons originally derive.” [159]   These are:

·        The Virgin Mother of the Promised Messiah, dated from the 100s to the 200s C.E.

·        The Mother of God as Empress, dated from the 300s C.E.

·        The Orant (the praying one), dated from the 300s C.E.

·        The Hodegetria, dated from the 400s C.E.  This icon “appears to accentuate her divine motherhood…the Mother of God.”  Ferrero further notes that in this icon “Christ is presented to us as the Logos with gesture of speech or with the scroll of the Holy Word.”  Emphasis in this type of icon is on the divinity of Christ. [160]

·        The Eleusa, dated much later from the 1000s to the 1100s C.E.  Ferrero notes this icon “focuses more on the human and maternal dimension” of Mary.  Emphasis in this icon “underlines the humanity of the Son.” [161]

Ferrero further notes that “when interpreting these iconographic themes and, above all, when making use of them in prayer, we cannot lose sight of the relationship of Mary, the Mother of God, with the Church.” [162]  

Ferrero’s book is filled with pictures of icons done in line drawings, in mosaic form, in fresco form, in painted form, and even in stained glass form.  The dates of these icons range from the third century as already indicated, in an almost continuous line, through to present day. [163]  

It should also be noted that Ferrero is a Redemptorist, a member of a Roman Catholic religious order.  Ferrero gives the history of how this Roman Catholic order came to be in possession of the icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help. [164]   He does note that this icon had been stolen from its original church in the sixteenth century and removed to Rome. [165]   The Redemptorists more than three hundred years later purchased land where this icon was kept; however, it seems they were unaware of its presence.  Whatever political issues are involved in this situation, it seems to this writer that they are of secondary importance.  Of primary importance is what this writer sees as the “spiritual joining" of both the Orthodox and Roman Catholics.  All else, any political issues especially should be secondary in favor of the fact that both the Orthodox and Roman Catholics are members of one large religious, “genealogical” family [166] that began with the Jews. [167]

Bulgakov [168] notes, “the veneration of our Lady, insofar as it is directed to created Wisdom” has another meaning attached.  “She is created Wisdom, for she is creation glorified.  In her is realized the purpose of creation, the complete penetration of the creature by Wisdom.”  Furthermore, Bamford [169] in the introduction to Bulgakov’s book also notes that “ ‘Moist Mother Earth’ has always been venerated, and at times even identified as the Mother of God and the dwelling of the Holy Spirit.”  Thus, this paper comes to the final section.

Gaia—the Earth as Mother:

This writer notes that for some people who do not hold to any organized religion, the spirit may be seen in the Earth as Mother.  Yet, this writer found that limiting the Earth as Mother to only those who profess no organized religion is clearly inadequate as is noted below:

Rae [170] notes the following regarding the role of feminine Wisdom:

·        “The person of Wisdom as a saving female figure who is related to the Earth needs to be studied in all the world’s religions.”

·        “Wisdom as the feminine Divine needs to be developed in the Christian tradition into a full pneumatology in the person of the Holy Spirit.”  Rae goes on to note that the divine feminine needs “releasing [of] the Holy Spirit from Her institutionalizing by Catholic theology, where She is seen only in relation to ecclesiastical office and ordained ministry, and from Protestant theology, where She is tied to the individual believer.”

·        The “understanding of Wisdom as the matrix of creation needs to be lived in terms of a spirituality that truly honors the Earth as sacred.” 

Johnson [171] notes that “the root of all religious imagery and its doctrinal elaboration” is “the experience of the mystery of God.”  She goes on to note specifically, that “since Spirit is the creator and giver of life, life itself with all its complexities, abundance, threat, misery, and joy becomes a primary mediation of the dialectic of presence and absence of divine mystery.  The historical world becomes a sacrament of divine presence and activity.” [172]   Becoming even more explicit, Johnson further states, that the “moment of wonder when we are overtaken by the grandeur of the natural world as it exists beyond us and without us, simply there in its own givenness and beauty, fragility and threatened state” [173] is the moment that indicates the “presence and absence of Spirit.”  Johnson even more boldly notes that the “moment of self-transcending protest when we are appalled at the ruination of nature and its life-giving qualities, has likewise been ignored by theology.”

Johnson has an extensive discussion on “Spirit-Sophia” which when read in the context of this paper is equivalent to the “goddess.”  In addition to the above citation of the natural world mediating the presence and absence of Spirit-Sophia, Johnson notes two other areas that mediate the presence and absence of Spirit in human life: [174]

·        Personal and interpersonal experience:  specifically, loving relationships, broken relationships, the bearing, birthing, and rearing of children, the taking of responsibility for one’s own life and its impact on others, befriending the stranger, caring for the truly helpless.

·