God is a Wedding, Part 3

This week’s post is quite long. If you don’t use it already, I recommend reading from the Substack app where you can listen to my audio voice over (and at increased speeds, for those of you who, like my wife, can somehow listen faster than I can read). You can also listen via podcast which I’m trying for the first time (but same as the voiceover). Hopefully you’ll try listening to a 30-ish minute podcast/recording if this is (understandably) too long to read.

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Today we pick up right where we left off last week with point 4, that Jesus’ representation of God in the Gospel of John includes the symbolic representations intended for both men and women. Point 5 regarding men was brief, as the main focus is this post and point 6, John’s use of feminine imagery to characterize Jesus. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to read parts one, two, and three in this series, which help lay a foundation for what we are exploring today.

This material is quite challenging, but I don’t like signaling a warning. Really, this is exciting and joyful; we’re talking about weddings after all, as a friend pointed out to me. This material is also redemptive, iconoclastic even, for John challenges the frozen pictures we humans have consistently used across time and culture to narrowly depict what it means to image God as man and woman. But perhaps an important caveat before we continue: please don’t hear what I’m not saying. John is not negating Jesus’ male flesh or presenting him as an androgynous human (this will sound like a strange caveat, but read to the end and you’ll understand). We are focusing on what John was doing with gender, and we will miss it entirely if we move away from symbolism and import literal conceptions of sexuality and force contemporary questions on this ancient text.

6. As with man/Adam, Jesus fulfills the symbolic representation of woman/Eve with increasing frequency and significance, building up to the most uniquely feminine symbol of childbirth in 19:34.

This material will be a challenge to most of my readers, as it has been to me. As Bruno Barnhart explains, throughout Christian history we have struggled to maintain a vision for “the eschatological destiny of human sexuality”:

“Human sexuality occupies a central place in the dynamic of new creation in Christ. In Christianity, therefore, should emerge the first fruits of a new human sexuality, in which the glory of God begins to appear. And yet this theological truth has never yet been confronted broadly and openly by the church, and this potential has rarely been realized.”¹

Barnhart is just one of many who have seen that the Gospel of John uniquely presses us to pursue this Christoform and recreated sexuality:

“While the inability to realize the creative potential of human sexuality is not peculiar to Christianity, our reading of John’s gospel has suggested that it is in the mystery of Christ that the key to this realization is offered to us.”²

Dorothy Lee joins Barnhart as a key guide into our study of the mystery of Christ. Both are challenging guides, for the journey itself is a challenge. But I hope you will take the challenge and meditate on these things in your heart (an appropriately feminine image! Cf Luke 2:19, 51).

Last week we noted a possible connection between the seven signs of Jesus in John 1-12 and the representation God designed for Adam/man as symbol of the earth. Agreeing with that association between Jesus’ signs and masculinity, Bruno Barnhart made this observation about the structure of John:

“The movement from signs to glory [ie Book of Signs ch. 1-12, then Book of Glory ch. 13-21] is accompanied by a movement of Jesus from his masculine role of witness, preaching and works of power, the functions of the Word, to a feminine mode which is related to the unitive, to the Spirit, to glory, to immanent wisdom.”³

While this description of the “masculine role” betrays cultural stereotypes and is less aligned with John (ie women are key witnesses, and they engage in proclamation as early as ch. 4), can you hear echoes of

Anna Anderson ’s gender typology in Barnhart’s description of the “feminine mode”? The words “unitive” and “glory” connect to the typology of heaven, the Sabbath rest from the union of earth and heaven that Genesis 2—and really all of Scripture unfolding from Genesis to Revelation—teaches us about the eschatological goal that woman represents.

But what is this movement that Barnhart references? He is commenting on the key hinge of John in ch. 12 which begins with the foot washing of Mary of Bethany. As I mentioned in a previous post, in ch. 13 “Jesus kneels to wash and dry the feet of his disciples, in imitation of the gesture of the woman.”⁴ After this imitation of a feminine act, there are four maternal images leading up to Jesus’ glorification on the cross. The rest of this post will explore these, with Dorothy Lee as our guide, to see the increase in frequency and proximity with which Jesus is presented in feminine symbols.

1. Orphans

The first Lee notes is Jesus’ statement in 14:18 that “I will not leave you as orphans; I am coming to you.” She sees allusions to OT concerns for the widow and orphan, including Isaiah 49:15: “Can a woman forget her nursing child, or lack compassion for the child of her womb? Even if these forget, yet I will not forget you.” This allusion is less convincing at first glance, although Lee admits it is implicit rather than explicit.⁵ However, the phrase “child of her womb” in the Greek Septuagint of Isaiah 49:15 uses the word koilia for womb, and koilia is used in John 7:38: “The one who believes in me, as the Scripture has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him.” According to Lee, while not explicit, given that koilia clearly means “womb” in John 3:4, it is certainly possible that koilia means womb in 7:38, so that

“the ‘rivers of living water’ are to flow not primarily from the disciples but rather from Christ, who promises to quench the thirst of all who come to him. This is probably a proleptic reference to the flow of blood and water from the side of the crucified Jesus (19:34), which, as we will see, is suggestive of a ‘womb’ giving life.”⁶

With the clear OT precedent for God describing himself through maternal imagery, and similar images used by Jesus in the synoptic gospels (Matt 23:37; Luke 13:34), it is certainly possible that John’s reference to orphans in 14:18 is echoing this maternal imagery as well. The broader context of Isaiah 49 supports this connection.⁷ Therefore, while father imagery is not excluded by referring to the disciples as orphans (many English versions translate the Hebrew word “orphan” as “fatherless”), the context in John and the allusion to Isaiah 49 emphasizes Jesus as mother.

2. Woman giving birth

The second maternal image is explicit, but again at first glance might not fit the paradigm I’m developing, for it seems to focus on the disciples:

John 16:19-22 (ESV) “Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Is this what you are asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, ‘A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me’? Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

Jesus likens the “little while” of the disciples waiting between Good Friday and Easter Sunday to the pains of childbirth that lead to joy. However, there are subtle clues suggesting this parable-like image applies to Jesus as well. The phrase “her hour has come” calls back to John 2:4 when Jesus appears to rebuff his mother’s request, giving the reason that “My hour has not yet come.” “Hour” is a key word in John associated with the anticipated day of Jesus’ glorification on the cross and the creation of a new family of living worshippers (cf 4:21, 23; 5:25, 28; 7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). It also forms an inclusio, or bookend, from the beginning of the book of signs (2:4) to the end of the book of glory (19:27), and significantly, both of those occur with reference to the mother of Jesus.

“Thus, although the reference to the suffering of ‘the woman’ in her ‘hour’ is metaphorical of the community of believers, there are overtones that are suggestive of Jesus’ own suffering, death, and resurrection: his own transition from pain to joy.”⁸

There is also an interesting allusion to Genesis 3-4, noted by Judith Lieu.⁹ The word for “sorrow” in 16:21 which accompanies the woman’s labor is lypē, the same word used in Genesis 3:16 (LXX) when God tells Eve that “I will increasingly increase your labor pains [lypē] and your groaning¹⁰; with pains [lypē] you will bring forth children.” Additionally, when Eve gives birth to Cain in Genesis 4:1, she doesn’t say that she bore a child but rather a man, anthrōpos, same as the woman of John 16:21 who rejoices “that a human being [anthrōpos] has been born into the world.” This connection between the woman of John 16:21 and Eve will be relevant for the fourth image discussed below.

3. Jesus as mother

The third maternal image is again implicit, suggestive, and applicable to Jesus only after prolonged reflection.

John 19:25-27 (CSB) “Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple he loved standing there, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.”

There are many things going on here, as is the case with all of John’s Gospel. On the surface level, it seems that the beloved disciple replaces Jesus as the son of Mary. Notably, Mary is never named by John. By referring to her as “woman” in 2:4 and 19:17, Mary is able to take on symbolic meaning. If Jesus’ departure leaves his mother without a son, what about the beloved disciple? There is implied parallelism here: the beloved disciple replaces Jesus as the son of Mary; likewise, Mary replaces Jesus as the mother of the beloved disciple. Not literally, but symbolically.

“The mother of Jesus is to replace the absent Jesus in the heart of the beloved disciple, to be the “mother” he is about to lose, just as she will regain, in the beloved disciple, the son she is about to lose. But why does the beloved disciple need a maternal replacement? If the mother of Jesus is about to lose and find a son, who is the mother the beloved disciple is about to lose? The only conclusion is that Jesus’ solemn words imply that Jesus himself in his earthly ministry has been the “mother” of the beloved disciple.”¹¹

Through John’s use of symbolic, representative figures,

“The Johannine transposition of the mother-son relation implies that, with Jesus’ departure, the “motherhood” of Jesus is now located within the community of faith itself. This resonates with the Zion imagery, where Jerusalem is the mother consoling her inhabitants, as infants at the breast (Isa. 66:7-14)…As in Isaiah 66, “Mother Zion” is a symbol of God’s maternal consolation: behind the mother of Jesus is the divine motherhood evinced in Jesus himself and the role of the Spirit, released from Jesus’ crucified flesh.”¹²

4. The birth of the church from Jesus’ side

The fourth and final maternal image is suitably climatic, stretching the metaphorical limits of Jesus’ revelation of God in his male human flesh. The image of birth was first introduced in the prologue of John:

John 1:12-13 (ESV) “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”

The presence of this image in the prologue tells its importance for the story of Jesus, as those first 18 verses serve as a sort of melodic motif that resonate in the rest of the gospel as it builds upon and unfolds the prologue.¹³ This helps us pay attention for birth/maternal imagery from beginning to end, and that is just what we see. It’s worth taking note of these additional images. Some are more familiar, some less familiar and perhaps debatable:

• 1:12-13 “children of God,” “who were born…of God”

• 3:1-8 “born again/from above,” “born of water and the Spirit”

• 6:22-71 “because my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink”

• 7:38 “out of his belly [κοιλία/womb] shall flow rivers of living water”

• 14:18-21 “I will not leave you as orphans”

• 16:21 “When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come”

• 19:27 “Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’”

• 19:34 “But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once blood and water came out.”

We’ve referenced and described the examples in 7:38, 14:18, 16:21, and 19:27. We will get to 19:34 in a moment. The bread of life discourse in 6:22-71 is worth pausing over because of its potential resonance with the later and (slightly) more explicit examples.¹⁴

Jesus says that “the one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life…because my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink” (John 6:54-55). The audience misunderstands this as some form of gross cannibalism. However, there is a literal sense behind the metaphor that is often missed. As Dorothy Lee notes,

“there is no context in which the nourisher both gives and is the nourishment except that of the mother feeding her child with her own body. In those parts of the world where lactation was (and is) the only source of infant nourishment, the child would literally die without it, just as believers will die without being sustained and nourished by the Bread of Life. The maternal background is reinforced by the addition of blood (6:53), which, while pointing to the Eucharist in a secondary sense, is linked to breast-feeding. In the ancient world, breast milk was regarded as processed menstrual blood (for understandable reasons, given that lactation tends to suppress ovulation). The Johannine Jesus is speaking as more than a host hospitably inviting guests to his banquet. In effect, he speaks as a mother to her children, feeding them with the “milk” (which is itself both food and drink) of his own body. The symbolism is implicit and suggestive rather than explicit, yet it takes the maternal imagery in a new direction.”¹⁵

This will likely sound new and strange to most of my readers (Protestants especially). However, it seems to be more common and more appreciated by Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox. For example, Michele Schumacher notes that Adrienne von Speyr viewed Christ’s giving his body in the Eucharist as a feminine act.¹⁶ Timothy Patitsas likewise wrote that “Take, eat, this is my body; drink of it all of you, this is my blood” (Mt 26.26-29; Mk 14.22-26; Lk 22.15-20; 1 Cor 11.24-25) are first of all maternal statements.”¹⁷

With all of these subtle maternal images in John, which can be discerned after multiple re-readings of John (as it is meant to be read), the final image in 19:34 is climactic. John emphatically draws our attention to this flow of blood and water from the side of Jesus by highlighting his eye-witness testimony (v. 34) and by quoting two passages of Scripture (vv. 36-37). As Dorothy Lee put it, “Here, perhaps more than anywhere else, the divine doxa [glory] pours forth from the sarx [flesh] of Jesus.”¹⁸ The connection between blood/water and childbirth is an ancient one, and for that reason deserving of our consideration. In this broader Johannine context, I believe it is hard to find an alternate interpretation that fits (although there is complementary and overlapping symbolism, eg water as baptism and blood as Eucharist). But it still stretches our conception of Jesus. Dorothy Lee’s comments are helpful:

“The connection between the flow of blood and water and childbirth is not one that is generally made by [modern] commentators—perhaps because of an inability to perceive the transposition of Jesus’ bodily reality as John portrays it. Yet, with an understanding of the flexible nature of Jesus’ flesh as it is symbolically presented in the Fourth Gospel, and its capacity to take on cosmic significance, the imagery makes perfect sense—of the elements themselves (birth being an experience that brings together blood and water) and the significance of the crucifixion as life-giving. The imagery also coheres with what has gone before, where water is symbolic of cleansing, drinking, and also birth. This interpretation has all kinds of implications for understanding the body of Jesus.”¹⁹

She returns to this scene later in her book with additional exposition, and I can’t help but include it:

“The maternal overtones in previous scenes open the possibility of a feminine, metaphorical reading of the scene. As with the image of feeding [ch. 6], the meaning that makes most sense, particularly in the light of 7:38-39, is that it expresses a maternal dimension to the flesh of Jesus. In accord with the imagery of the Farewell Discourse and earlier suggestions in the Johannine text, Jesus’ death is presented as the sorrowful labor that brings forth the joy of life (16:21); his wounded side is also the koilia, womb, that produces life. The symbolic overtones of this event are suggested also by what follows. Just as the “we” of 1:14 refers to the reborn "children of God" who gaze upon the glory in the flesh, so here at the cross, the one who testifies to this event—presumably the beloved disciple—gazes upon “the one whom they pierced” (19:37), revealing himself to be a child of God, born of divine love, and the labor of Jesus and the Spirit. Moreover, it is consonant with the symbolism that, in the ensuing narrative, Nicodemus, who cannot comprehend the symbol of birth in John 3, moves now into the light of day in his final appearance in the Gospel (cf. 7:45-52). In the burial scene (19:38-42), he comes into the open about his faith and risks participating in the embalming and burying of Jesus, along with Joseph of Arimatha (cf. Mark 15:42-47 pars.). His conversion occurs immediately following the flow of blood and water: he is born “from above” out of the death of Jesus. This symbolic “birth” occurs in the immediate context of the giving of the Spirit (19:30).”²⁰

Preliminary reflections

This is a lot of material. In a final post next week I will try and tie together the threads of man/woman typology, juxtapositions of male and female characters, and the Johannine picture of Jesus and how he revealed the triune God. For now, I want to linger just a bit more with this blood and water from Jesus’ side. That appears to be what John wanted us to do, for right after depicting that scene he wrote these words: “He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows he is telling the truth” (John 19:35). That’s not just a way of saying, “Believe me because I’m telling the truth.” Even more it’s like saying, “Look! Pay attention! Don’t just believe me that this happened, but believe deeper. Let your faith’s gaze linger upon the wounded side of Jesus.”

In this climactic scene of Christ’s passion, one of the elements we see is how he has fulfilled and reversed the symbolism represented by both Adam and Eve. Christ as the second Adam is familiar and spelled out explicitly in the New Testament, although only implicitly in John. But what about Eve? Adrienne von Speyr, one of my favorite Johannine interpreters (although she didn’t write this in her John commentary), said that “in the labor pains of the cross, Christ is more the second Eve than is Mary herself.”²¹ This leads us to some final observations and what I am beginning to suspect that John is doing with gender in his gospel.

John is revealing reversals, transpositions, inversions, and ultimately weddings that show us how gender points to the ultimate wedding between heaven and earth, God and his people. We will explore this in more detail next time via Timothy Patitsas’ idea of gender chiasm. For now, in light of the above observations, consider these possible reversals:

• On the one hand, whereas Adam had to eat bread by the sweat of his brow until he returned to the ground and to dust (earth typology, Gen 3:17-19); on the other hand, the body of Jesus became true bread when he died and returned to the ground as the grain of wheat that produced much fruit gathered for eternal life (earth typology, 4:36; 12:24), and yet he did not return to dust but lives again, ascended to the Father, having attained that rest for which Adam was to work.²²

• On the one hand, whereas Eve had intensified labor pains, bore children with painful effort, and experienced only partial joy in awaiting her return to the Messiah under whose rule she could rest (heaven typology, Gen 3:16; 4:1; Song 6:13, 7:10); on the other hand, Jesus went through the labor pains of the cross, rejoiced at the birth of the children of God, and turned toward Mother Zion / Bridal Eve so that she, in turn, returned to her ascended Lord (heaven typology, John 20:14, 16; cf Revelation 1:12).²³

Could it be that John has so told the good news of Jesus that in Jesus’ very flesh we see “the eschatological destiny of human sexuality”? John’s passion account has numerous allusions to the Song of Songs and, as one of the passion narrative’s many layers of meaning, the cross is presented as the moment when the marriage between heaven and earth, God and humanity, is accomplished. And it is from that wedding that God’s people are born and continually re-born throughout history until the final consummation of heaven turning to the earth and God dwelling with his bridal people. The point of our gender is not to go back to the garden, back to when God’s design for male and female was but a seedling in the ground. The point instead is to press forward to the fully-grown garden-city, to the heavenly Zion on earth, where, “prepared like a bride adorned for her husband” (Revelation 21:2), we will dwell forever with Father, Son and Holy Spirit. If human nature as male and female is eschatological²⁴, then there is a further telos for our sexuality yet to be realized. I believe Timothy Patitsas has given us a helpful paradigm for that, to which we will turn next week.

Question

Once again, what do you think of all this? What additional questions does this raise for you? Concerns? Criticisms?

1 Barnhart, The Good Wine, 405.

2 Barnhart, The Good Wine, 405.

3 Barnhart, The Good Wine, 121. Without endorsing his particular wording, it’s worth noting Hans Urs von Balthasar’s use of typology similar to man-earth/woman-heaven (and note, “man” here is inclusive of male and female): “If man in the order of creation is chiefly masculine (as the dominator of the world), in the order of grace he is chiefly feminine (as the receptive womb for the marvels of the power of God).” A Theological Anthropology, 195.

4 Barnhart, The Good Wine, 121. Ingrid Rosa Kitzberger is even more emphatic: “We can conclude that Jesus acted in a way similar to Mary. In fact, according to the temporal sequence of the narrative, Jesus appears as the one who seems to have been inspired by Mary's action. After all, she was the first who had the idea about the feet. Thus, Mary becomes a role model for Jesus' action. He learned from this woman.” “Transcending Gender Boundaries, in John” in Feminist Companion to John : Volume 1, edited by Amy-Jill Levine, 186.

5 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 150

6 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 149.

7 Ch. 49 is one of the “servant songs” of Isaiah (ie Isaiah 42, 49, 50, 52-53) describing God’s chosen servant who will “bring Jacob back to him so that Israel might be gathered to him” (49:5).  There are references to God’s provision for Israel in the exodus wanderings (49:8-10), and in 49:10 (LXX) God promises that “he who has mercy on them will comfort them and through springs of water will lead them.” The Greek phrase “springs of water” is pégōn hydatōn, which uses pēgē, the for “well” in John 4:6 and 4:14, and it is the exact same phrase in 4:14, pégé hydatos. Furthermore, the word for “comfort” in Isaiah 49:10 is parakaleō, in which you might recognize John’s unique name for the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). John has already connected the Holy spirit to the “streams of living water” (7:38-39). When Jesus promises that he will not leave his disciples as orphans and that “I am coming to you,” the means by which Jesus will come to comfort them is through the Holy Spirit. The metaleptic connections continue:

• there is marital/nuptial imagery in 49:18: “you shall clothe yourself with all of them [ie the nations] and put them on like a bride’s ornament.”

• Zion’s family will grow beyond its bounds and beget sons and daughters from the nations (49:19-23)

• In reversed echo of Jesus’ language in John 6, Zion’s oppressors “shall eat their own flesh, and they shall drink their own blood like new wine and be drunk.”

• Isaiah 49 ends with a phrase that resonates with John 17:2: “Then all flesh shall perceive that I am the Lord who rescued you, who assists the strength of Jacob.” In John 17:2 Jesus says that the Father gave the son “authority over all flesh, so that he may give eternal life to everyone you have given him.”

8 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 152.

9 Judith Lieu, “The Mother of the Son in the Fourth Gospel,” Journal of Biblical Literature 117, no. 1 (1998): 61–77.

10 The word for groaning in the Septuagint translation of Genesis 3:16, stenagmos, is also used of the groaning of the Israelites in Egypt (Exodus 2:24; 6:5; Acts 7:34) as well as the groaning of the Holy Spirit on behalf of God’s children when in their weakness they struggle to pray (Romans 8:26). With the connection between water from the side of Jesus and the sending of the Holy Spirit, could it be that the intercessory groaning of the Spirit is likened to the maternal groaning of labor in childbirth? That is the clear context in Romans 8:22-23, and the possible allusion to Genesis 3:16 adds deeper resonance with the feminine imagery used to portray the work of Spirit. See also additional allusions for John 16:21 in Isaiah 51:11 and Jeremiah 4:31.

11 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 155.

12 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 157.

13 Credit for this image goes to Dr. Ashley Hibbard at the recent CSBV colloqium, discussing Genesis 1-3 serving similarly for the Hebrew Bible and New Testament.

14 The presence of these maternal images in the book of signs might push back against Barnhart’s idea about the progressive movement from masculine to feminine in ch. 1-12 vs ch. 13-21. But one might counter that the maternal/feminine images do become more explicit (relatively speaking) toward the end of John.

15 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 149.

16 Michele Schumacher, A Trinitarian Anthropology: Adrienne von Speyr and Hans Urs von Balthasar in Dialogue with Thomas Aquinas, 285.

17 Timothy Patitsas, “The Marriage of Priests: Towards an Orthodox Christian Theology of Gender,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly vol. 51, no. 1 (2007), 103.

18 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 47; 246 n. 95.

19 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 83.

20 Lee, Flesh and Glory, 158-159; see Barnhart, The Good Wine, 181.

21 Michele Schumacher, A Trinitarian Anthropology, 286. Similarly, Balthasar wrote, “If the Church comes from Christ and, hence in everything which makes it the Church, lives from his substance, then the Son of God has this “feminine” element in him at the deepest level, not because he is a creature, but because he is the Son of the Father” (A Theological Anthropology, 313).

22 Note, that connection to the painful labor and fruit of the ground in Gen 3:17-19, images of wheat and bread and labor, occur in the first half of John 1-12 (ch. 4, 6, 12), matching Barnhart’s attribution of the “masculine mode” of Jesus.

23 I am indebted to

Anna Anderson for helping me wrestle with the meaning of Genesis 3:16, in particular, helping me trace the language of the Septuagint which translates “desire” in Gen 3:16 and 4:7, and Song of Songs 6:13 and 7:10, as “turn/return/turn toward/turn around”. This word (or closely related forms) is as also used in Isaiah 35:10 and 51:11, as well as John in 20:14-16 and Revelation 1:12, and all of these passages use symbolic/typological images of marriage and/or birth.

24 An idea for which I should also give credit to Aimee Byrd. Although I haven’t explicitly interacted with her book The Sexual Reformation for this series, it has helped me pay closer attention to eschatology and gender in Scripture. See eg. pp. 119 and 126.