This article explores the author’s journey of “untraining” the masculine and reclaiming the feminine in Christian mission, particularly the often-overlooked maternal paradigm. Drawing on her experience with managerial missiology in a masculine-dominated mission agency and the concept of the maternal gift economy, the author challenges prevailing norms and proposes an alternative framework rooted in unconditional giving, nurturing, and relationality. This framework aligns with the missio Dei and the incarnation, highlighting the importance of maternal wisdom for a more compassionate and transformative approach to mission. The author’s personal journey, interwoven with insights from her motherline, maternal metaphors of the Godhead, and drawing inspiration from the active role of women (especially mothers) in the Jesus movement. She underscores the need to embrace feminine and maternal perspectives for a more holistic and life-giving understanding of Christian mission.
I was trained to be a man—not just in my mission agency but by the very air I breathed in the West, where the culture emphasizes masculinity. This article explores my pilgrimage through the complex tapestry of mission while untraining the masculine within me and reclaiming the motherline, the maternal gift economy, and the missio Dei–sources of feminine wisdom and transformation. As I look back on when I embarked on my leadership journey, I found myself unconsciously conforming to these masculine norms. However, when I became a mother of three within just two years, I began to wrestle with the internalized belief that success required me to suppress both my feminine qualities and my maternal identity. Over time, I started to see that the mission agency operated as a unisex regime, though I lacked the language to articulate it then. Its structures and expectations were built around a leadership model that overlooked the distinct experiences of women—particularly mothers—leaving little room for the integration of maternal identity and leadership.
I hold the view that we are embedded in the “age of systems,” which theologian and missiologist-turned-social-critic Ivan Illich describes as the dominant mode of living in the West, more evident since the 1980s. For this article, I highlight one aspect of the “age of systems” as a “unisex regime,” where, in the pursuit of neutrality, the male gender is ultimately prioritized. This preference for the masculine is evident not only in mission agencies but also in broader expressions of American Christianity. As historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez observes in Jesus and John Wayne, since the 1980s, there has been an increasingly substantial cultural and political project of projecting a strong masculine image within the Christian mainstream. This reinforces the challenges faced by those seeking to embrace a more feminine or nuanced approach to faith and leadership.
To make this analysis, I have found Illich’s framework of “it/She” helpful. It provides an excellent lens to analyze church/Church, which is not common in the Stone-Campbell Tradition, where it is historically taught that the church structure is assumed as a direct blueprint from the Early Church. The lowercase church as “it”—the social institution with its structures, hierarchies, legal, and administrative dimensions becomes clearer. And then the capital letter for the Church as “She”—the mystical Body of Christ, is more easily identified as the living and embodiment of Christian community. Imagine the church as a tree: the ‘it’ is the trunk—strong, structured, and visible—while the ‘She’ is the roots—hidden, nurturing, and life-giving. Both are essential, but too often, we prioritize the trunk at the expense of the roots. In reality, the “She” is always intertwined with the “it.” Illich captures this framework of “it/She” by applying the “philosophy of complementarity”.
The “maternal gift economy” challenges the dominant market paradigm, deeply resonating with the missio Dei by emphasizing unconditional giving linked to the relationality of the Godhead. Just as the womb is a place of life and growth, so is the missio Dei a space where new life is nurtured and brought forth. Mission, then, is not about conquering or controlling but about creating life-giving spaces where people can flourish as well as transition into adulthood, which implies “letting go” or a “reversal of roles.”
Embracing these principles has led me toward a more authentic and life-giving approach to mission—one that challenges the prevailing masculine paradigm of “managerial missiology”and paves the way for a richer, more compassionate expression of faith. To illustrate this difference, managerial missiology is like a factory, focused on efficiency and output. The maternal gift economy, on the other hand, is like a garden where growth happens slowly, organically, and through careful nurture.
My Missiological Journey: Reclaiming the Gift
My family has a rich heritage in the Stone-Campbell tradition, with at least five generations on my paternal side and three generations on my maternal side actively involved in acappella Churches of Christ. I was raised in the highlands of Guatemala, where my parents served as medical missionaries alongside fellow Harding University graduates. From an early age, I was immersed in the world of mission, as my parents were trained by several renowned missiologists, including George Gurganus at the ACU School of Mission.
At the age of twenty, I began my missionary journey, engaging in campus ministry in Mexico City with a branch of Churches of Christ, which later became the International Church of Christ. In 2001, I transitioned from a student and volunteer mission practitioner to a career in a mission agency, joining a church plant in Bogotá, Colombia. That same year, I married a Colombian evangelist, and together, we witnessed significant growth within the Bogotá congregation and its church plants, including one in Quito, Ecuador. Our family expanded, too, with the birth of our daughter in 1996 and twin boys in 1998.
Through the transformative experience of motherhood, I began to discover the missio Dei, embarking on a journey to “untrain” the masculine and reclaim the feminine within missiology. I have sought alternative perspectives on theology, spirituality, and mission, leading to a deeper understanding of biblical texts, Christian history, and my own female body. Drawing on concepts such as “maternal thinking” and the African equivalent of “thinking-with-the-womb,” this profound shift has shaped a more integrated approach to life and ministry. This personal odyssey has been like unwrapping a gift as I’ve explored the feminine wisdom within the Christian tradition and its implications for mission and ministry. My personal and missiological context—my “locus of enunciation”—has profoundly shaped the following reflections.
The Motherline: A Sacred Gift Economy
Motherhood is not just a personal experience but a connection to the “motherline”—a sacred thread of feminine wisdom passed down through generations. Motherhood is intrinsically linked to the act of giving and receiving. Motherhood embodies the concepts and practice of birth, nurture, and care and represents a fundamental and invaluable gift to humankind. Motherhood embodies the mysteries of origin, is our first world, and is the source of our lives and stories. Returning to our motherline aids in this rediscovery. As my narrative illustrates, reflection on our motherline can display the intricate tapestry of kinship and generations. Reading the biblical narrative, beginning with Eve, the symbolic mother of all humanity, as part of one’s motherline, is eye-opening. The Old and New Testaments abound with the stories of women and mothers actively giving life. This idea resonates not only with those of the Christian faith but also with wider audiences, as seen in National Geographic’s issue on “Women of the Bible.” A broad survey of Western art history further underscores the prominence of women and mothers in religious art, often depicting them as central figures in scenes of profound spiritual significance.
Gifts from the Motherline
The “untraining” process began with meditating on my motherline with a womanist lens—specifically my great-grandmother, grandmothers, and mother—illuminated my path and provided a sense of connection and strength. These were not women who passively accepted their circumstances; they were hardworking, strong-willed individuals who faced challenges head-on. This nuanced blend of qualities echoes Ivan Illich’s concept of “it/She,” which challenges the limitations of binary gender categories and recognizes their interconnectedness.
Armas captures the “abuelita faith” (grandmother faith) of my motherline beautifully when she describes my own path:
The journey of spiritual conocimiento [knowledge], of inner and divine exploration, that many of us find ourselves on is a task of going backwards, of reaching into the past to reclaim the wisdom of our abuelas [grandmothers] and our ancestors. I believe part of this wisdom includes their understanding of the interconnectedness of all people, nature, and God.
My paternal great-grandmother, rooted like an ancient oak in the soil of our family history, drew strength from the land she tended. As my grandaunt recounts, when my great-grandfather was paralyzed, she took charge of the family farm, her spirit reflecting the resilience of the earth itself. From a place of faith and resistance, she did not support submission to the State; for example, she and my great-grandfather taught their children and grandchildren to refrain from reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
Her daughter, my paternal grandmother, was an elementary school teacher known for keeping preachers on their toes with her extensive biblical knowledge. She had rough edges but a sharp mind—qualities I see reflected in myself. My maternal grandmother, after the early death of my grandfather, had to manage debts and rebuild her life, extending her gift of hospitality to all she knew and even to strangers.
My mother is one of the kindest and gentlest people you could ever meet and a remarkably successful woman in the public sphere. For instance, while raising three young children and supporting my father through medical residency, she pursued her master’s degree with unwavering determination. She embraced the challenges of living in the highlands of Guatemala, where she became fluent in Quiché, the language of the people they served.
These women were not simply mothers and homemakers but also leaders, teachers, and community builders. They embodied strength and vulnerability, independence and compassion, demonstrating the interconnectedness of “it” and “She” in their lives and actions. They lived within the “it” while emphasizing the “She.” This nuanced blend of qualities, rooted in their deep faith and commitment to serving others, is the legacy they passed down to me—a legacy that resonates with the core principles of the maternal gift economy.
The Church as “She”: A Missiological Perspective
Missiologists often employ maternal imagery—using references such as a mother-daughter church or describing mission as spiritual reproduction or even mission and midwifery. These maternal metaphors, frequently used to describe the Church as a nurturing and life-giving entity, align with Illich’s concept of the Church as “She.”
Applying this framework reveals a nuanced perspective on the interplay of masculine and feminine in missiology. The “it” aspect, emphasizing organization, efficiency, and control, often aligns with traditionally masculine qualities. Conversely, the “She” aspect, characterized by nurturing, relationality, and unconditional love, embodies more feminine attributes. My view is that Jesus and the Christian ethic scale extremely high on the “feminine” scale, aligning with Illich’s “She.” In contrast, many Western institutions, including religious ones like Christian churches, lean heavily toward the “masculine,” which are organizational qualities.
This distinction, however, is not a simple binary tied to biological sex or gender roles. Rather, it highlights the dynamic interplay of masculine and feminine qualities within individuals and institutions, regardless of gender. Furthermore, it aligns with systems scientist and cultural historian Riane Eisler’s distinction between “partnership” and “dominator” societies. Eisler notes how partnership-oriented societies emphasize collaboration, equality, and nurturing, embody the “She” aspects, while dominator societies are about hierarchy, control, and competition. This second type I link to Illich’s “it.”
This understanding of masculine and feminine qualities resonates with Dutch sociologist Geert Hofstede’s research on cultural dimensions, which highlights the contrasting values associated with each. The “masculinity” dimension signifies a societal preference for achievement, heroism, assertiveness, and material success, reflecting a competitive ethos. In contrast, “femininity” emphasizes cooperation, modesty, care for the vulnerable, and a focus on quality of life, fostering a more consensus-oriented society. Hofstede’s work reveals how these dimensions influence various aspects of culture, including gender roles, sexuality, and religion, shaping how different societies express and interpret their faith.
Since the beginning of Christian history, gender has often been viewed through the lens of culture. The following quote, from the last logion of the Gospel of Thomas (#114), could display the influence of the Greek and Roman notions of masculine superiority: “Simon Peter said to him, ‘Let Mary leave us, for women are not worthy of life.’ Jesus said, ‘I myself shall lead her in order to make her male, so that she too may become a living spirit resembling you males. For every woman who will make herself male will enter the kingdom of heaven” (v. 114). Although Lynn Bauman provides a compelling argument for a different interpretation, the previous common understanding of this logion resonates with my experience of being “trained to be a man” for the sake of God’s kingdom.
As the above citation makes obvious, throughout two millennia, theologians and missiologists have recognized this creative tension between the “it” and “She” aspects of the church, advocating for a more balanced approach that values both masculine and feminine. This article joins that conversation, examining how modern approaches to gender, despite aiming for equality, can unintentionally perpetuate masculine norms and marginalize the embodied experiences and perspectives of women, particularly mothers. The “unisex regime,” as described by Illich, promotes a seemingly gender-neutral approach but often inadvertently reinforces masculine norms and values, leading to the marginalization of feminine perspectives and experiences. A truly holistic approach to mission requires more than just metaphorical language; it demands a fundamental shift in values and practices. By embracing both the “it” and the “She” in their dynamic interplay, missiology can move towards a more just, compassionate, and transformative expression of the Christian faith.
Women in Missions: A Historical Overview
The tension between the “it” and “She” aspects of mission is evident throughout Christian history, particularly in the experiences of women who navigated the often male-dominated structures of Christian institutions. This historical pattern of marginalization, where institutional structures and priorities overshadow women’s contributions, foreshadows the challenges women face in the contemporary “age of systems.”
Historically, international mission endeavors have offered opportunities for individuals to transcend culturally rooted gender expectations. Women have often taken on leadership roles and challenged societal norms, while men have displayed nurturing and compassionate qualities in their service and ministry. This highlights the tension between the “it” and “She” aspects of mission, demonstrating how women have often embodied the “She” even within male-dominated institutions, by engaging in activities like teaching, preaching, church planting, educational projects, medical missions, and leading social reform movements.
However, it’s important to acknowledge that women, too, can sometimes perpetuate the “it” over the “She,” even when they achieve leadership positions. This can occur when they prioritize the institutional aspects of mission, focusing on efficiency, control, and the maintenance of existing power and organizational structures. As I describe throughout this paper, when Christian denominations institutionalize, the “it” with its masculine traits has repeatedly led to an overpowering of the “She.” This mirrors the dynamics we see in secular institutions, where women who rise to the top, such as female CEOs, female Presidents, and even European Queens, often uphold and reinforce the existing patriarchal systems.
Women, particularly mothers, have played a crucial role in the history of Christianity and Christian missions, often transcending traditional gender boundaries. Historical figures such as Sarah Andrews, a Church of Christ missionary to Japan, exemplify the fluidity of roles for women in pioneer mission work, allowing them to exercise their gifts more freely despite the strict social limitations of their time and within their denominations. Similarly, Odessa Davis, a Church of Christ missionary in China, documented her 12 years of work until her family had to leave due to the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949. She provides valuable insight into the experiences of women as missionaries and mothers in mission fields.
Researchers, including mission historian Dana Robert, have documented the vital contributions of these pioneering missionary women, whose work shaped the development of Christianity across diverse cultural contexts. Building on this recent scholarship on women in mission, Gina A. Zurlo, former doctoral student of Robert, has highlighted the indispensable role of women in the global expansion of Christianity, emphasizing that the shift from Global North to Global South Christianity would not have been possible without their contributions.
My research on missionary mothers reveals a shift in how women experience mission work. While earlier generations, notably the Baby Boomers, often felt more freedom to balance their roles as mothers and missionaries, later generations, particularly Generation X, experienced greater pressure to conform to masculine norms and prioritize the institutional aspects of mission.
Understanding the historical context of women’s roles in missions is crucial for recognizing the ongoing need to challenge masculine norms and reclaim the feminine in contemporary missiology.
Managerial Missiology: A Masculine Paradigm
Jumping back to my own experience, I was trained with a masculine lens. As already indicated, the thinking of Ivan Illich is key for me in “untraining” the masculine. He describes the “age of systems” with precision and its “unisex” or genderless ideal, which paradoxically reinforces masculine norms by establishing them as the universal standard. I recognize these values in my own mission training, which was heavily influenced by the Church Growth Movement, which missiologist Samuel Escobar identified and critiqued as “managerial missiology.”
Since the 1980s, as McDonald’s, Walmart, and other large corporations began to dominate local, national, and international markets, many Christian mission endeavors increasingly mirrored these corporate structures. This managerial approach, with its fervent pursuit of “evangelizing the world in this generation,” often mirrors the logic of the marketplace, with its inherent values of expansion and control. Also, the use of imagery linked to warfare is common in managerial missiology. In the mission agency I worked for, such masculine-inspired God images, portraying Jesus as “bent on conquest” (inspired by Rev 6:2) or a wrathful God demanding swift action, were common in the rhetoric, mottos, and songs.
A Return to the “She” in Missiology
First, when I became a mother, and more so when I experienced the crisis of our mission agency, I began to grasp the concept of missio Dei—that mission is primarily God’s initiative, not a human endeavor to control and dominate. It flows from God’s heart, not from a church growth strategy. Missio Dei is the “She,” inspired by the biblical imagery of the church as the Bride of Christ (Eph 5:32, Rev 19:7-9, Rev 21:2) and, for many Christian traditions, the church as a mother (Gal 4:21-31). Motherhood, with its inherent focus on nurturing and responding to the needs of another, resonated with this understanding of mission as a partnership with God.
After the crisis of our mission agency, my husband and I chose to return with our three young children to the congregation we had helped plant in Bogotá. However, this time, I returned not as a ministry leader striving to strategize and succeed but as a stay-at-home mother, embracing this new role to practice mission through presence. I was overwhelmed by the crisis but did not view my decision as an “opting out” of the public domain. Honestly, it was an act of resistance against the expectations and pressures of the “unisex regime.” In a way, I look back and feel connected to my great-grandmother and her position of resistance. The paradigm of “degrowth” makes sense as I returned to the example of Jesus that I had lost track of in my managerial career in the mission agency.
This journey has not been without its challenges. “Untraining” the man is not a one-time event but an ongoing commitment to recognizing and dismantling the subtle ways masculine norms continue to shape my thinking and actions. These decisions had radical financial and lifestyle consequences. I encountered resistance within the congregation and the mission agency, often feeling isolated and alone. Honestly, I struggled to find mentors who understood my evolving perspective, particularly those who could guide me in integrating my experience of motherhood with my missiological calling. In their absence, I found inspiration and guidance from the biblical, theological, and historical figures I delve into in the following sections.
The Maternal Gift Economy
Reclaiming the maternal gift economy has been a radical act of resistance against the dominant market paradigm, inviting me to embrace unconditional giving and relationality. The “maternal gift economy,” a theory developed by semiotician feminist Genevieve Vaughan, is grounded in the scholarship of the gift economy based on sociologist Marcel Mauss’s research. Vaughan challenges the dominant paradigm of market exchange by highlighting the values of unconditional giving, nurturing, and relationality. With the term homo donans, she posits that humans are not primarily the wise species (homo sapiens) or the exchange species (homo economicus) but rather a unilaterally gift-giving species—a reality distorted by the practices of exchange, money, and the market. Inspired by her own experience as a mother, Vaughan recognizes the inherent gift-giving nature of language and caregiving.
Vaughan defines a true gift as one that satisfies a need, emphasizing the centrality of mothering—whether through parenting, care, or nurture—in shaping both language and the gift paradigm at individual and societal levels. Crucially, she argues that dominant cultures are parasitic upon the freely given gifts of mothers and nature, exploiting these resources for profit and control. This resonates with my journey of challenging the masculine norms embedded in mission work and reclaiming the feminine wisdom of the maternal gift economy.
To counter the trend of the “it” in this current “age of systems,” Illich draws inspiration from the Parable of the Good Samaritan and the early Christian community’s spirit of conspiratio, advocating for a return to a more relational and community-centered approach to mission. This vision aligns with Vaughan’s call to reclaim the maternal gift economy, where the focus shifts from competition and control to nurture, collaboration, and generosity. These values, typically rooted in the feminine, the “She,” offer a more authentic and life-giving way of understanding mission and the Christian life.
Hesed: The Essence of the Maternal Gift
This section explores the concept of “God’s love as a maternal gift,” drawing on the Hebrew idea of hesed (steadfast love) and the imagery of Isaiah 40–66. Romans 12:2 highlights the importance of renewing one’s mind for transformation. Thankfully, over three decades ago, I was advised to read Isaiah 40–66 and to place my name in all the areas where God reaches out in the text. This simple practice framed my journey in overcoming masculine God-images, the first and most crucial step in untraining my mind.
Like the women of my motherline, whose lives were a tapestry of giving when needed, God, too, is a weaver of gifts. John 3:16 unfolded before me with new beauty, revealing the divine gift of love, the hesed, embodied in Jesus. The Word made flesh is freely given, not earned or conquered. This resonates with Vaughan’s semiotic view of gifting, which emphasizes the inherent generosity embedded in language. Just as words can convey love, care, and knowledge, God communicates divine love through the gift of Jesus, the Word made flesh, bridging the divine and human realms. This incarnation—this divine entering into human experience—is echoed throughout the New Testament (see Matt 1:23; John 1:14; Col 1:15; and Phil 2:7).
This resonated deeply with the concept of the maternal gift economy, a paradigm far removed from the market-driven logic I encountered in my mission training. In the tender embrace of constant meditation on Isaiah 40–66, with its comforting maternal imagery, I discovered a God who understood the depths of my embodied motherhood experience. This was a God of compassion and nurture, not of relentless pursuit and strategic triumph.
An unofficial mentor in my doctoral journey, Tom Olbricht, a Church of Christ theologian, acknowledges that he was profoundly influenced by his own motherline. I observe a similar connection to my journey in how he demonstrates sensitivity to his maternal roots and spiritual motherline. Olbricht invites us to read the entire biblical text through the lens of hesed, envisioning it as the “Creator’s love affair with creation and humanity.” He reminds us that even the Hebrew word for mercy (rahamim) is rooted in the imagery of the womb, “depicting the compassion of a mother for the child she has carried.” Like a mother, God “exhibits an inner feeling of compassion or love for his human child, which is expressed outwardly in helping action.” These acts of compassion, freely given, are the essence of God’s divine gifts. Olbricht held this view until the end of his life, confirming in a personal email, “Yes, God is love as Father, Son, and Spirit. Yes, the heart of the text is the same in every part. The parts, however, may differ, e.g., Proverbs from Hosea, and John from Galatians, and from Revelation.”
The Incarnation: Embodying the Maternal Gift
The incarnation, God’s act of choosing Mary’s body to deliver his gift to humanity, embodies the maternal gift economy. Mary, as the mother of Jesus, is an integral part of my motherline, and many other Christian believers would feel the same. In choosing to enter the world through Mary’s body, God sanctified the feminine and maternal. The incarnation is not just about God becoming human—it is about God becoming human through the embodied experience of a woman, affirming the sacredness of motherhood and the gift of life. Theologian Amy Peeler vividly describes this reality:
To redeem humanity, God cultivated and dwelt within the flesh of a woman. The Son of God is then born, which, no matter how this happens, with pain or not, by separating the hymen or not, means that the embodied God passes through the birth canal of a woman. Because he is completely human and was born in the time before formula and bottles, he nursed at the breast of a woman. From that moment until he was grown, her hands held him; her arms enveloped him; her lap gave him a place to rest. God’s choice to allow the body of a woman, even the most intimate parts of herself, to come into direct contact with the body and blood of the Son stands against any who would deny women by virtue of the fact that they are women access to the holy.
Theologian Anna Case-Winters compellingly reveals that the incarnation is not an abstract idea but a profound reality with far-reaching implications. She carefully traces the consequences of this radical claim—that in Christ, “the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” (Col 2:9)—for Christian life and thought. It connects to the missio Dei by emphasizing the embodied nature of God’s presence in the world. This embodied presence of God in Christ speaks volumes about the value of embodiment and the importance of giving unconditionally, which is central to the maternal gift economy. God chose to enter the world through the embodied experience of Mary, thereby affirming the sacredness of the female body and the power of maternal love and sacrifice.
The Maternal Gift in the Early Jesus Movement
Jesus’s life and ministry, as recorded in the Gospels, offer a compelling example of the maternal gift economy in action. He embodies its core values through unconditional love, empathy, and a willingness to serve the marginalized and vulnerable, freely offering healing, forgiveness, and acceptance without expecting anything in return. Numerous stories illustrate this compassion, such as the woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5:25–34) and the healing of the blind man (Mark 10:46–52). Jesus’s presence itself was a gift, creating space for healing and transformation and demonstrating the profound importance of simply being present with those who suffer.
The early Jesus movement also embodied the maternal gift economy. Those who spent more time with Jesus nurtured and supported the new followers from the beginning. The sharing of resources, communal living, and mutual care practiced by the early Christians exemplify the collaborative and life-giving principles of this alternative economy. Acts 2:44–47 and 4:32–35 portray the early church community sharing everything they had, devoting themselves to fellowship and prayer. During times of persecution, they also trusted the believers who were scattered. The apostles remained in Jerusalem (Acts 8:1) amid the chaos of the dispersion, much like a mother trusts her child—whom she has loved and trained—when they become adults. She embraces this new stage as part of the cycle of life, just as the apostles trusted the missio Dei to continue.
In 1 Thessalonians 2:7, Paul tenderly describes himself as “a nursing mother,” expressing his deep love and concern for the believers. This maternal imagery, alongside paternal (“father,” 2:11) and familial (“orphan,” 2:17) metaphors, reveals Paul’s multifaceted approach to building relationships. South African Church of Christ theologian Abe Malherbe explains that, rather than asserting his apostolic authority or making demands, Paul employs language that fosters connection and strengthens his bonds with the Thessalonians. This resonates with the maternal gift economy, where nurturing and unconditional care are central. Even in Paul’s letters, we find evidence of this maternal gift exchange, highlighting the diverse ways early Christian shepherds nurtured and empowered their communities.
On a recent academic tour in Turkey and Cyprus, retracing the steps of Paul and Barnabas on “Paul’s First Missionary Journey,” I further solidified my conviction that the expansion of the early Christian movement was driven not by strategic planning but by a relational quest sustained by generosity and mutual support. Their journey, distinct from the market-driven logic of managerial missiology, exemplifies a unique approach to mission, even in unfamiliar territory. For example, their first stop was Barnabas’s hometown of Salamis on the island of Cyprus. Recent archaeological discoveries, as reported by theologian and archaeologist Mark Wilson, illuminate their subsequent journey to Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13:14–51), a relatively unimportant and remote city. Notably, Pisidian Antioch was the hometown of Sergius Paulus, the Roman proconsul in Paphos, whom Paul and Barnabas had encountered earlier (Acts 13:7–12). This connection suggests that personal relationships, rather than strategic planning, played a pivotal role in shaping the trajectory of the early Christian mission.
The biblical, theological, and historical evidence demonstrates the impact of the maternal gift economy, springing from the deep well of the missio Dei. I have found inspiration in these examples to continue reclaiming the feminine and to “unlearn” the masculine. I feel empowered to challenge the current situation and create a new way forward.
Conclusion
Throughout this paper, I have sought to expand my argument for the importance of reclaiming the motherline, the maternal gift economy, and the missio Dei by engaging with diverse perspectives from female and male scholars across the globe. Rooted in my personal experience, Bible study, and academic work, I have connected the lessons from this journey to insights from self-published memoirs (Gurganus, Hile, Rauch), popular interest publication (Isbouts), early Christian literature (Gospel of Thomas), indigenous research methodologies (Chilisa), cultural sociology (Eisler, Grosfoguel, Hofstede, Mauss), feminism (Ruddick, Vaughan), history (Du Mez, Goode), psychology (Lowinsky), mission history (Hegi, Robert), biblical scholarship/theology (Armas, Case-Winters, Kiboko, Jacoby, Malberbe, Olbricht, Peeler), biblical archaeology (Wilson), missiology (Bosch, Escobar, Love), and especially the work of missiologist, theologian, and social critic Ivan Illich (Cayley). My engagement with these diverse and global sources highlights the universality of motherhood and the motherline. Woven together, such provides profound insights into the maternal gift economy and its transformative potential for the missio Dei.
This essay does not offer direct prescriptions for the Church and mission organizations but urges both men and women to reconsider the logic of the motherline, which invites the maternal gift economy—built on the foundations of unconditional giving, nurturing, and relationality—as essential to the missio Dei. The biblical promise in Isaiah 66:13, “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you,” serves as a potent reminder that the maternal is not secondary to the mission but central to God’s relational nature, existing at the deepest roots of the tree we know as the Church.
While the path ahead may be uncertain, I invite readers, as followers of Jesus, to imagine the impact of increasingly embodying the maternal wisdom of the missio Dei. We would have more to offer in the comfort and compassion of a broken world, which is also needed in many of our own families. I challenge you to reflect on your own journeys. Where have you been “trained to be a man”? How might you begin to untrain yourself? How can you, in your context, recognize your motherline and embrace the maternal gift economy to contribute to a more compassionate and transformative approach to mission? Join me in embracing this maternal logic, which promises a richer, more compassionate, and transformative understanding of the missio Dei.
Dr. Renee Rheinbolt-Uribe is a Research Fellow in the Faculty of Theology at Stellenbosch University (South Africa), whose independent scholarship bridges Latin American mission praxis and embodied theology. Rooted in decades of service and research across Colombia and Latin America, she explores themes such as maternal thinking, relational autonomy, mutuality, and the missio Dei in contexts of institutional crisis and post-colonial transformation. As a former long-term missionary based in Bogotá, she brings both qualitative field insight and rigorous theorizations to global Christian leadership formation. Her interdisciplinary background (with degrees in intercultural studies, theology, and international relations) and her emerging voice in missiology position her as a scholar whose work invites mission educators and practitioners to rethink power, dependency, and relationality across cultures.
