The first time I encountered the idea of the Holy Spirit as a woman was while reading The Shack by William P. Young. In the story, the Holy Spirit is personified as Sarayu, a mysterious, Asian woman.
I stopped reading.
Everything in me recoiled. Was this heresy? A violation of orthodoxy? I nearly closed the book for good.
But I didn’t.
Something nudged me to keep reading. And after finishing the book, I found that God wasn’t finished with me.
That initial discomfort gave way to deeper curiosity: what if the feminine image of the Spirit wasn’t simply literary license, but actually biblical?
The Feminine Grammar of Spirit
In the very first verses of Scripture, we find the Spirit of God hovering over the deep (Genesis 1:2).
The Hebrew word used here for Spirit is ruach: a grammatically feminine noun. While grammatical gender doesn’t automatically imply personality traits, it’s significant that the Hebrew tradition, so attentive to meaning in language, used a feminine word to describe God’s own Spirit.
More than grammar, the imagery is rich with maternal resonance.
The word “hovering” in Genesis 1:2 is the same verb used in Deuteronomy 32:11 to describe a mother eagle fluttering over her young. This maternal language evokes not distance or dominance, but nurture, warmth, and creative care. The early Jewish imagination, influenced by such metaphors, likely did not resist the Spirit's feminine movement the way we often do today.
Theologian Elizabeth A. Johnson, in her groundbreaking, albeit controversial, work She Who Is, argues that these maternal images are not peripheral but central to recovering a fuller understanding of God’s personhood. She writes:
“The Spirit in biblical literature acts in ways traditionally associated with the feminine: birthing, nurturing, comforting, and renewing life.” — Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is, p. 135
This feminine imagery isn’t meant to replace masculine language, but to expand our understanding of God’s nature. Masculine metaphors like Father, King, or Shepherd help us imagine God as strong, protective, and just which are essential truths we hold with reverence. On the other hand, feminine imagery often evokes a different kind of nearness: gentleness, intimacy, attentiveness, and compassion.
When we picture God as one who hovers, nurtures, or labors to bring forth life, we are drawn into a relational depth that masculine language alone may not always convey. It reminds us that the full range of human experience—tenderness, fierceness, endurance, and care—finds its source in the heart of God.
A Thread Woven Through Scripture & Tradition
Throughout Scripture, the Spirit is associated with breath (Job 33:4), wind (John 3:8), and water (John 7:38–39)—all symbols of fluidity, intimacy, and life-bearing.
Jesus himself compares his longing for Jerusalem to a mother hen gathering her chicks (Luke 13:34), an image not unlike the hovering Spirit in Genesis.
The early church, especially in Eastern traditions, preserved this maternal understanding. Ephrem the Syrian (4th century) referred to the Holy Spirit as “Mother” in his hymns, writing:
“The Spirit is our mother; the second womb that brings us into new life.”
— Hymns on the Nativity, Ephrem
Even earlier, in the 2nd-century Christian hymns known as the Odes of Solomon, the Spirit is spoken of in feminine terms:
“I rested in the Spirit of the Lord, and she raised me up.”
— Ode 19:6
In our own time, theologian Sarah Coakley challenges rigid gender constructs in her theological exploration of the Spirit. In God, Sexuality, and the Self, she notes:
“The Spirit, in biblical texts and patristic tradition, is often associated with the maternal, the fecund, the gestational. Neglecting these themes impoverishes our theology.” — Sarah Coakley, God, Sexuality, and the Self, p. 83
Coakley’s insight invites us to recognize that the way we speak about God doesn’t just shape our theology, it also shapes our communities. Reducing God to purely masculine descriptors has, historically, contributed to the oppression and marginalization of women.
When maleness is equated with divinity, femaleness is too often seen as lacking or secondary. This has fostered harmful hierarchies in the church and beyond.
Expanding our language for God that is rooted in Scripture and tradition allows us to reclaim and celebrate femininity as equally bearing the image of God. It opens the door to healing, honoring the full dignity of women, and dismantling the subtle misogyny that lingers in too many corners of the Church.
Why This Matters at Sanctuary
So why does this matter for our church community?
At Sanctuary, we are people being formed by Scripture and tradition, who are rooted and open. We take seriously the beauty and responsibility of holding tension: between justice and mercy, orthodoxy and renewal, truth and tenderness.
This exploration of the feminine Spirit does not seek to disrupt our relationship with the Trinity, but to enliven it. To breathe fresh reverence into our worship. To remind us that the God who made male and female in God’s image (Genesis 1:27) is not confined to one gender or metaphor. We are not discarding Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, beloved, we are deepening our understanding of what each name holds.
As Jürgen Moltmann writes in The Spirit of Life:
“The feminine language for the Spirit is not merely an inclusive adjustment; it reveals a forgotten dimension of the divine.” — The Spirit of Life, p. 61
This is especially important in a spiritual family like ours, where so many of us are wrestling with narrow images of God shaped by painful church experiences, gender dynamics, or cultural assumptions.
What might it mean for a young woman in our community to hear that the Spirit of God hovers over her like a mother eagle? What might it mean for someone who has struggled with father-wounds to experience God’s Spirit as comforter, midwife, and nurturer?
The Grief of Limiting God
Years ago, I was in a clergy circle when I made a comment that stopped all conversation.
“I think we’ve grieved her”, I said, referring to the Holy Spirit.”
Heads turned.
Someone asked, “What do you mean by ‘her’?”
I explained the linguistic roots, the biblical imagery, and the richness of Christian tradition. A few acknowledged the grammatical facts, but continued to insist that only masculine pronouns and names be used for God.
The discomfort lingered.
That exchange taught me something: for many of us, calling God “Father” and “Son” feels safe, but any suggestion that God could also express femininity feels threatening. But when we lock God in our categories, we don’t protect God, we diminish our capacity to relate to the fullness of God’s being which includes but is not limited to gender pronouns and gender identity.
The Holy Spirit has always moved like a mother. Perhaps it's time we let her speak again.
Pastor Micah recently preached a thoughtful and engaging message called The Hovering, Brooding, and Birthing Holy Spirit. I highly recommend listening to learn, understand and consider how God might want to reintroduce herself as your mother, who nurtures and cares for you personally.
Coming Next: Part Two — “Jesus and the Father:
Does Masculine Language Exclude the Feminine?”
In the next installment, we’ll explore Jesus’ introduction of God as Father and how this enhances, rather than excludes, a Spirit-led understanding of God’s feminine presence.
I appreciate your words, and I echo that we likely grieve God when we limit our language around any of Their characteristics. You've given me new authors to head down the rabbit hole with.
Might I offer one to you? Mariko Clark and Rachel Eleanor's The Book of Belonging is the latest children's Bible to make me weep. They do a beautiful job pushing the words and images that we have for God. I often wonder, what if I grew up thinking about God this way, and how it might shift that relationship?
wonderful job