The Holy Spirit Feminine - Part Two:
Jesus and the Father - Does Masculine Language Exclude the Feminine?
In Part One of this series on the Holy Spirit Feminine, we explored the maternal imagery of the Holy Spirit and the feminine grammar of ruach in Genesis. We reflected on how the early church embraced the Spirit as a nurturing, life-giving presence. The ruach is one who hovers, broods, and births new creation. But for many, the moment we start talking about feminine divine imagery, an objection quickly rises:
“But Jesus called God Father. Doesn’t that settle it?”
It’s an important question and one that deserves careful reflection, not reaction.
For me, this question isn’t just theological, it’s also personal.
I grew up in a Baptist church that affirmed women preachers, Bible study teachers, and worship leaders. They were recognized as missionary leaders, community organizers, and served on the trustee board (our equivalent of an elder team).
We still had room to grow in our embrace of women as senior pastors, but the foundation was already laid: women’s gifts in the church were visible, respected, and essential. Why wouldn’t they be? These same women were leading in corporate boardrooms, founding non-profits, and holding public office. The church could not pretend otherwise.
So, when I began to explore the feminine language of the Holy Spirit, it wasn’t to erase tradition, but to honor the fuller truth I had already seen with my own eyes: that God’s Spirit empowers women and men alike. That God's image is bigger than we’ve dared to name.
Jesus Introduced God as “Father”
Yes, Jesus refers to God as Father…frequently and intimately.
(see Matthew 7:21; Mark 14;36 ; Luke 23:34; and John 14:9)
He uses the Aramaic word Abba, a term not just of respect but of profound closeness and trust, like a child saying “Papa.” To us, “Father” might sound traditional, but in Jesus’ first-century Jewish context, it was radically relational.
In the Hebrew Scriptures, God is called Father only sparingly and when it is used, it’s often in a national or collective sense (e.g., “Israel is my son,” Hosea 11:1). The dominant titles were more distant or exalted: King, Lord of Hosts, the Almighty.
No devout Jew of Jesus’ day would have dreamed of calling God Abba in personal prayer. Jesus, however, consistently used Father-language to invite intimacy rather than reinforce dominance.
If Jesus were to arrive today (in the incarnation) he might refer to God by another radical term, mother. But let’s consider this…his choice of metaphor wasn’t about gender, it was about proximity and trust.
In naming God as Father, Jesus was not declaring God male, but drawing people into the tenderness and attentiveness of divine parenthood. Listen, this matters, especially in a historically patriarchal society where fathers often wielded power and control. Jesus redefined “fatherhood” as self-giving love, clearly displayed in the prodigal’s father (Luke 15) who runs, embraces, and restores his child with tears and mercy.
Jesus choice of metaphor wasn’t about gender, it was about proximity and trust.
Just in case you missed it, Father is a metaphor, not a literal description. God is not male. God is Spirit (John 4:24). The writer of Genesis affirms that both male and female are created in God's image (Genesis 1:27), which means that neither gender can exhaust who God is. So…Abba points to the relational quality of God, not the anatomy of God.
A Tradition Deeper than Gender
The early church understood that Jesus’ use of “Father” was metaphorical, not literal.
Origen of Alexandria, a towering theologian of the 3rd century, lived during a time of persecution and theological confusion. Amid early heresies and imperial religious pressure, Origen emphasized that God is beyond human categories—beyond male or female—but comes to us in ways we can comprehend.
He wrote of God’s “womb” not to feminize God in a biological sense, but to describe God’s interior, generative care for the soul. In Homilies on Jeremiah, Origen says:
“For if you want to understand it this way, our soul was in the womb of the Father, and there it was nourished.”
In Origen’s time, Greek philosophical dualism often devalued the body, especially women’s bodies, as unspiritual. But Origen reclaims the maternal as a theological gift: God is the source of both birth and nurture, and the Spirit is the one who nourishes and grows the soul from the inside.
Fast forward a century, and we hear Gregory of Nazianzus, another early church father, affirming the universal healing offered through Christ:
“What is not assumed is not healed… But Christ took on humanity, not maleness alone.” — Orations 29.19
Gregory was pushing back against early groups who denied the full humanity of Jesus. His point is that in the incarnation, Jesus assumed full humanity—male and female alike—so that all of humanity could be redeemed.
Jesus did not come only for men or only as a model for men. His incarnation touches every human experience, and his Spirit empowers the entire body of Christ to reflect the image of God across gender, culture, and history.
The Spirit of Disruption in Modern Context
Miroslav Volf, theologian and author of Exclusion and Embrace, warns against letting masculine metaphors harden into masculine ideologies. He writes:
“God’s fatherhood should not be pressed into the service of patriarchy; rather, it should subvert it by redefining power as self-giving love.” — Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace, p. 175
Consider theologian Willie James Jennings who speaks prophetically into this space. In his commentary on Acts, Jennings reflects on how the Spirit of God disrupts the boundaries humans love to build:
“The Spirit does not sanctify hierarchy but destabilizes it, drawing people into a radically inclusive communion.” — Acts: A Theological Commentary, p. 33
Jennings is writing in the wake of colonized Christianity; a faith historically used to divide, dominate, and exclude. And yet in Acts, he sees a Spirit that refuses to cooperate with those systems.
At Pentecost, the Spirit speaks through men and women, young and old, Jews and foreigners (Acts 2:17–18). At Sanctuary, where we value equity, this is not a footnote. This is a foundational truth: the Spirit resists exclusion and insists that God’s image is not limited to one body, voice, or gender.
When we rigidly insist that God is only He, we run the risk of baptizing patriarchal systems into our worship and theology. And as Jennings reminds us, the Spirit will not be confined to systems of control. She leads us instead into a world where power becomes presence, hierarchy becomes hospitality, and patriarchy becomes partnership.
A Broader Image & A Deeper Faith
Jesus calling God Father doesn’t limit God to maleness. In fact, it challenges earthly men—and women alike—to embrace a divine vision of parenthood rooted in sacrificial love, mercy, and belonging. In a world where “father” can carry the weight of absence, authority, or abuse, Jesus redefines Fatherhood as embrace, presence, and grace.
It’s the Holy Spirit who helps us know this love deeply. Paul writes in Romans 8:15–16
“The Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.”
The Spirit enables this intimacy, not just intellectually but bodily by inviting us into divine relationship not with fear, but with affection. The Fatherhood of God and the Mothering of the Spirit are not rivals. They are two windows into the same heart of God, revealed in Jesus, experienced through the Spirit, grounded in love.
In fact, when we widen our image of God to include feminine metaphors, our faith doesn’t shrink beloved, it stretches. It reaches deeper into wounded places, especially for those who’ve been harmed by distorted father figures or rigid patriarchal structures. It offers the Church a way forward not by abandoning tradition, but by reclaiming its fullness.
By affirming both that Father and Mother Spirit of God, we embrace both the strength and nurture of God. Further more, we offer our community a more faithful and more equitable vision of who God is and who we are in Christ.
Coming Next: Part Three “She Was There Too: The Holy Spirit in the Life of Christ”
We’ll explore how the Spirit was active in Jesus’ birth, baptism, ministry, death, and resurrection. And why recognizing her presence matters deeply for our own formation.
Well put. I appreciate all you've said.
And, I know well and good that American Christianity equates to a religion that worships maleness, because above all, the Christian God (and the Muslim one, and the Jewish one) must be male. Of this premise there can be no actual divergence.
One can watch most men visibly bristle at the mention of of the feminine relating to God. You can see them puzzling out if they want to be okay with it, or fight it out.
Many will find all that threatening, inaccurate, even disgusting; and it reveals the death-dealing patriarchy we all swim in. Having rendered women as less than, substandard, or even loathsome, most feminine adjectives (even if Biblical support is leveraged to change entrenched fallacies) seem anathema to them. And that says nothing about dismantling the idol of maleness generally.
each Sunday, for a long time, I have to talk myself into staying a Christian as this aspect pops up again and again