Because Meaning Cannot Be Rewritten

A Biblical Evaluation of Feminist Hermeneutics

Last night, we established that God has spoken, and that He has spoken with meaning. That meaning is not something we create, and it is not something that shifts with time. It is grounded in what God intended to communicate through human authors. Tonight, we need to move one step further and ask a more difficult question: what happens when that meaning is no longer received, but revised? What happens when the authority of the text is not denied outright, but quietly relocated?

To answer that, we need to begin not with theory, but with Scripture itself.

Paul writes in 2 Timothy 3:16–17, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.” That statement does more than affirm inspiration; it establishes function. Scripture is profitable because it is authoritative. It teaches, it corrects, it trains. But that only works if Scripture speaks with a stable and knowable meaning. If meaning is fluid, then correction becomes impossible, because the text can always be reinterpreted to avoid confrontation.

Peter reinforces this in 2 Peter 1:20–21 when he writes, “no prophecy of Scripture comes from someone’s own interpretation…men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” That phrase “not from someone’s own interpretation” is not merely about origin; it has implications for how Scripture is handled. It reminds us that Scripture is not something we control. It is something we receive. The authority lies in what God has spoken, not in what we decide it should mean.

That becomes the lens through which we must evaluate modern interpretive approaches, including feminist hermeneutics, particularly in the work of Rosemary Radford Ruether. Ruether begins from a fundamentally different starting point. Rather than beginning with the authority of Scripture, she begins with suspicion toward it. She argues that the Bible, as it has been interpreted throughout history, reflects patriarchal systems that marginalize women. Because of that, she proposes what she calls a hermeneutic of suspicion, where the text is examined critically rather than received authoritatively.

This is where one of the most basic rules of interpretation becomes necessary: we must guard against prejudice. It is not wrong to approach Scripture with theological convictions, but it is wrong to twist Scripture to make it say what we already want it to say. Each text must be allowed to speak for itself, even when it creates tension, discomfort, or unresolved questions. We do not correct Scripture; Scripture corrects us.

That is precisely where a hermeneutic of suspicion becomes dangerous. It does not merely ask hard questions of the text. It begins with suspicion toward the text and then evaluates whether the text should be accepted. But Hebrews 4:12 says the word of God discerns “the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” That means Scripture examines us. We do not stand above Scripture as judges deciding which parts are acceptable.

In my research, I noted that Ruether argues biblical texts must not be accepted at face value but must be interrogated for the assumptions behind them (Morrison, Ruether Paper, p. 2) . That approach fundamentally shifts how Scripture is treated. Instead of asking, “What did God mean?” the question becomes, “Can this text be trusted?” That may sound like a subtle shift, but it changes everything. Once the text is placed under suspicion, it is no longer the authority. The reader becomes the evaluator.

We can see the difference clearly when we return to Scripture itself. Consider Genesis 1:27: “So God created man in his own image…male and female he created them.” The text presents both men and women as equally created in the image of God. That is not a contested point. But when we move to Genesis 2, we see distinctions in role and order. Adam is formed first, Eve is formed as a helper fit for him, and the narrative establishes both equality in worth and distinction in role.

The question is: do we allow the text to define both equality and distinction, or do we impose a framework that accepts one and rejects the other?

Ruether’s method does not simply reinterpret passages like these; it questions whether traditional readings themselves are legitimate. She argues that historical interpretations have distorted the text in ways that suppress women, and therefore those interpretations—and at times the texts themselves—must be re-evaluated or even rejected. As I noted in my paper, she explicitly states that some biblical texts “are to be frankly set aside and rejected” because they elevate one group over another (Morrison, Ruether Paper, p. 3) .

But this is where the tension with Scripture becomes unavoidable. If 2 Timothy 3:16 is true—that all Scripture is God-breathed—then no portion of Scripture can be dismissed without calling into question the authority of the whole. The moment we decide that some texts are no longer binding, we are no longer submitting to Scripture; we are selecting from it.

This becomes even clearer when we look at passages like 1 Timothy 2:11–15. Regardless of how one ultimately interprets the passage, the method matters. Ruether does not approach the text by asking what Paul intended within his historical and theological context. Instead, she treats it as a reflection of a patriarchal system that must be critiqued and, if necessary, rejected. In my research, I pointed out that she views such texts as later reactions designed to suppress women’s leadership, rather than as authoritative apostolic instruction (Morrison, Ruether Paper, p. 3) .

But notice what has happened. The question is no longer, “What does this text mean?” The question has become, “Should this text be accepted at all?” That is not interpretation; that is evaluation. And once the reader is in the position of evaluating Scripture, the authority of Scripture has already been displaced.

Scripture itself does not allow for that posture. Hebrews 4:12 describes the word of God as “living and active…discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” The text examines us; we do not stand over it as judges. When interpretation reverses that relationship, something foundational has shifted.

Ruether’s approach also leads her to elevate certain texts while diminishing others. She emphasizes passages like Luke 4:18–19, where Jesus speaks of liberation and justice, and interprets them as central to understanding Scripture. Those texts are indeed important, but the issue is how they are used. Instead of allowing the full counsel of Scripture to interpret itself, certain themes are elevated as the controlling lens through which all other texts must be read. In my research, I noted that Ruether treats texts as authoritative only insofar as they align with her vision of justice and liberation (Morrison, Ruether Paper, p. 3) .

That creates a canon within the canon. Some texts carry weight; others are minimized or dismissed. But Scripture does not present itself that way. It presents itself as a unified revelation from God, where each part contributes to the whole.

At its core, then, the issue is not simply about gender roles or specific passages. It is about where authority resides. Scripture places authority in what God has spoken. Ruether’s method relocates that authority in the reader’s framework. As I argued in my research, this ultimately results in Scripture becoming subordinate to the reader (Morrison, Ruether Paper, p. 4) .

And once that happens, meaning is no longer discovered. It is constructed.

This brings us back to the central issue of this conference. The Bible says it—but if the meaning of what it says can be revised, then belief is no longer submission. It is agreement. And agreement is a very different thing than faith.

Scripture calls us not to reshape its message, but to receive it. And if we are going to say, “I believe it,” then we must first be committed to understanding what God has actually said—and to letting that meaning stand, even when it confronts us.