There is much lively discussion these days about the nature and goals of theological education. Seminaries are asking hard questions: "How are we equipping our students for ministry?" "What kind of world will our students meet in their ministry?" "What is the goal of theological education?"

A number of important books and articles have emerged in recent years to deal with these questions, including David Kelsey's To Understand God Truly: What's Theological About a Theological School (1992) and Edward Farley's Theologia: The Fragmentation and Unity of Theological Education (1983).

Rebecca Chopp, dean of the faculty and professor of theology at Candler School of Theology, adds to this discussion a distinctly feminist perspective in her book Saving Work. She is convinced that more attention needs to be given in debate on theological education to the students in our seminaries-in particular, to the enormous diversity they represent, in contrast to the traditional seminary students of a generation ago. From this wide range, Chopp chooses the group she wishes to examine: "Because I have been engaged in the feminist movement within theological education for at least twenty years, I decided to focus on women engaged in feminist practices of theological education in order to speak about one cultural group within theological education."

The reader might initially wonder what Rebecca Chopp means by feminist. She is well aware that not all women identify themselves as feminists and, furthermore, that some men identify themselves in support of feminist concerns. Her use of feminist, then, refers to both women and men who are committed to a range of feminist concerns. Chopp lists some of these concerns: they include the "uncovering of new voices and faces in history," "defining new areas of research," crafting "new resources and new models," and encouraging the use of inclusive language.

The goal of Chopp's book is to begin inquiry into the possibilities of a feminist critical theory; that is, a method that emphasizes social location, particularity, and provisionality. She says, "A critical theory arises in a specific situation and, using the symbols, images, and concepts involved in that situation, attempts to move against distortion and dysfunction and to shape new forms of flourishing." Chopp then attempts to think carefully about how such a theory can become concrete by examining the themes of feminist theological education. In short, her question is how such a theory can make a real difference.

The first theme of feminist theological education that contributes to a feminist critical theory is "narrativity." In feminist theological education, Chopp says, women must be given the encouragement to "compose" or "narrate" their life stories. For some women, telling their own story is the first small step toward crafting an identity and accepting themselves as full human persons. This theme, which Chopp treats as a feminist theological practice, can be seen as parallel or related to the larger development of narrative theology in recent years. Theologians have recently begun to see what fathers and mothers in the Old Testament always knew: that we know who we are best when we tell our story, when we tell the story of God's faithfulness to us.

Another theme in feminist theological education identified by Chopp is "ekklesia," or "the emancipatory transformation of the church, the emancipation of the church from its own patriarchal and dehumanizing practices." Ekklesia is "the material corporate existence that is today one expression of Christian dreams and desires." For Chopp, forming an "ekklesia," a "church," is clearly a human endeavor. Although this is not a book on ecclesiology, the absence of any indication of the church's ultimate reality only in Jesus Christ is conspicuous; it creates a very loud silence.

The final theme in feminist theological education that informs Chopp's reflections is the practice of theology itself. Feminist theology is an ongoing practical and particular endeavor. Chopp uses the familiar feminist metaphor of a quilt. Theological reflection in seminaries should be like a quilt in several ways: it should encourage personal and social flourishing, it should be stitched together from actual lived experiences, and it should be selective (some pieces should be discarded and others preserved); it should, in sum, be shaped and worked and patterned and used. This task of feminist theological education is "saving work."

The implication here seems to be that the women and men who engage in this kind of theological quiltmaking are being "saved" by their activity. Chopp describes this "saving work" as "a practice that lies outside the parameters of modern theology but one that offers a material vision and an embodied wisdom for a new form of Christianity in our day and age." Indeed, for Chopp, theological reflection itself is a process of "saving work"-work that women and men do in order to be saved. The theological overtones of this term are of critical importance. Although Chopp does indicate that people participate in God's saving work, this affirmation is clearly secondary. The task of feminist theology is, quite simply, to be involved in the work of saving, "the saving of the earth, of the oppressed, of humankind." God recedes.

This feature of Chopp's book-that it is people who seem to be doing the "saving work," not God-is deeply problematic. Certainly, Saving Work does not claim to be an explication of the doctrine of salvation. It is a book on theological education and, as such, it attempts to map a terrain in which theory and practice are aimed at transformation and emancipation, at a form of theological education that is life-affirming, joyful, and integrated. Nevertheless, the reader who is committed to witnessing to God's gracious divine activity in salvation feels uneasy. Is there not more to theology-to feminist theology as well-than the human t ask of "saving" the oppressed, "saving" the earth? Is there not first and foremost the call to witness and respond to God's own divine "saving work," without which any human "practice" is ultimately futile?

Despite this fundamental misgiving about the direction of Rebecca Chopp's book, I found much in it that is helpful. This book serves as a clear call to all seminaries to welcome a wide diversity of students and to listen attentively to their unique voices. And it affirms the radical social and ethical demands of Christianity, insisting that faith in God entails an unswerving commitment to justice and peace. These are injunctions that Christians must always be ready to hear.

Saving Work: Feminist Practices of Theological Education

By Rebecca S. Chopp

Westminster John Knox

132 pp.; $12.99, paper

Copyright (c) 1996 Christianity Today, Inc./Books & Culture Magazine

September/October 1996, Page 34

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