Being Breathed by God
A Process Theology of Inspiration
“It wasn’t anything dramatic—just this sense, one morning, that I wasn’t alone in the fight. I’d relapsed so many times, I’d stopped trusting myself. But then this calm came over me, like something inside was breathing for me. I still had cravings, still had doubt, but there was a new kind of strength moving through me. I call it God. I think it was the Spirit, helping me stand when I couldn’t.
— Maria, 38, one year sober
— Maria, 38, one year sober
Spirit as Breath
The word spirit comes from the Latin spīritus, which means “breath,” “breathing,” or “life force.” It is derived from the verb spīrāre, meaning “to breathe.” In Latin, spīritus referred not only to the physical act of breathing but also to the animating force that gives life to a person or being. It carried connotations of vitality, courage, and inspiration—an invisible energy that moves through and within us. This understanding of spirit as both breath and life force shaped its later meanings, including the idea of an unseen presence or essence, and remains embedded in words like inspiration (“to breathe into”) and expire (“to breathe out”). In this way, the original Latin root points to a deep connection between breath, life, and the unseen energy that animates the world
Divine Breath as Love-Energy
There are moments in life when we are not merely breathing but being breathed. We can be breathed by other people, by the more-than-human world, and, in some circumstances, by a certain kind of energy that might best be called love-energy. As if the breath that sustains us is not only air, but Spirit—divine energy moving through us, animating us from within. In such moments, we may feel an aliveness that is not of our own making. It does not override our freedom, but it transcends our usual sense of self-direction. If we are cooperating with it, the cooperation is pre-reflective and pre-conscious. It is as if we are being moved by something deeper, gentler, more luminous, more powerful. Something sacred.
This being breathed by the Spirit—by love-energy—is more than being called. A calling might stir the mind or heart, but being breathed moves through the whole of us—body, soul, spirit. It is not merely the awareness of a divine invitation; it is the experience of being energized, even animated, by a love that is within us yet more than us.
I use the phrase love-energy as a variation on what the theologian Lina Langby calls love-power.* She writes:
“The Holy Spirit manifests what amipotence tries to convey: the loving and active nature of God’s power. God’s power is love-power. And the Holy Spirit is God’s love-power actively at work in Creation. We need the Spirit, but God as the Holy Spirit also needs us.” **
Langby uses the term amipotence to describe this kind of power. Amipotence is the Spirit of God as an "active loving power at work in the world" - not coercing us, but enlivening us from the inside out. It is the breath of God in us, giving rise not only to our becoming but also to our vitality, creativity, and courage. Langby calls it love-power, I call it love-energy. The terms are interchangeable.
John Cobb amplifies this idea by linking being breathed with what we often call inspiration. He writes:
“We say that someone’s performance in a concert or in a play was inspired. We speak of poets as inspired. Even a preacher may be inspired. That is, people may be moved by the Spirit in extraordinary ways. They may be so totally caught up in what they are doing that they are not consciously controlling their actions. What results exceeds the best product of their ordinary voluntary acts...A writer may find that sometimes the words ‘just flow.’ A composer may feel that the music ‘comes to her.’ Inspiration in this sense is rare enough to be greatly prized, but it is common enough that many of us experience it to some extent. Indeed, it is not altogether discontinuous from quite ordinary experience.” ***
Cobb then adds that all of life is inspired:
“Process thought affirms that at a very basic level all life is inspired. That is, there is no life at all except as God’s Spirit participates in constituting us. It is that participation of the Spirit that leads to our being, in each moment, something more than the deterministic outcome of the forces from the past that also play so large a role in shaping us. The times when we think of ourselves as inspired are those when this creative novelty contributed by God’s Spirit plays a particularly strong and effective role and is less inhibited than usual by the other causal factors in our lives. So process theology affirms not only that the common use of the language of inspiration is meaningful but that the inspiration is truly the work of God.” [3]
In the language of process theology, inspired moments occur as the initial aim—the divine lure—that inspires every moment of life. God’s Spirit is the indwelling presence of fresh possibilities, creative novelty, and of feelings - divine feelings filled with energy - that they be actualized. We are not puppets, but partners. Our partnership with the Spirit takes the form of a shared breath.
*****
* Dr. Lina Langby is a Swedish theologian who completed her doctoral studies at Uppsala University, where she earned her Ph.D. in 2023. Her dissertation, titled "God and the World: Pragmatic and Epistemic Arguments for Panentheistic and Pantheistic Conceptions of the God–World Relationship," examines alternative conceptions of the divine, particularly focusing on panentheism and pantheism. Dr. Langby has also contributed to scholarly discussions on the role of panentheism and pantheism in environmental well-being. She resides in Sweden, where she continues her theological research and writing.
** Amipotence: Expansion and Application is the second volume in a two-part series exploring the concept of amipotence—the idea that God's power is best understood as uncontrolling love. Edited by Brandon Brown, Fran Stedman, Deanna Young, and Steve Fountain, this volume focuses on expanding and applying the notion of amipotence across various theological and practical contexts. The series builds upon Thomas Jay Oord's work, particularly his book The Death of Omnipotence and Birth of Amipotence, which challenges traditional views of divine omnipotence and introduces amipotence as a more coherent and compassionate understanding of God's power.
** Divine Inspiration, Ask Dr. Cobb. https://processandfaith.org/ask-dr-cobb/divine-inspiration-january-1999/
Notes for a Theology
of Love-Energy
Love-Energy is the Spirit of God at work in the universe. It is the active, loving presence of the divine, moving within all things to bring about connection, creativity, and renewal.
Love-Energy can be felt but not grasped as an object among objects. It is more like a field than a force. Love-Energy cannot be turned into a 'thing.'
Love-Energy is woven into the relational nature of the universe. From gravitational attraction to molecular bonding, from cellular cooperation to emotional intimacy, from ecological symbiosis to spiritual connection—Love-Energy animates the patterns of relationship that hold the universe together and make life possible.
Love-Energy is felt in beauty as well as in goodness. The "love" of love-energy includes, but is not reducible to, kindness and tenderness. It has a creativity to it that transcends sentimental image of love - as seen so often in the creativity of the stars and planets, of animals and plants.
Love-Energy is not the only energy at work in the universe. The universe is shaped by many energies—some destructive, some indifferent, and some profoundly good. Hatred and violence have energy, too.
Love-Energy is powerful but not all-powerful. Many things happen in the world and in the universe that are not controlled, and cannot be controlled, by Love-Energy.
Love-Energy is fluid and omni-adaptive. It meets us where we are—shaped by history, relationships, environment, and memory.
Love-Energy is mediated by others. We can experience and respond to Love-Energy in private moments of prayer and meditation, but ordinarily reaches us through people, animals, places, and moments of kindness.
Love-Energy nurtures healthy relationships and uniqueness. It supports mutuality, trust, and care. It is also present in social bonding at biological levels—in molecular attractions, cellular cooperation, and ecological interdependence. It nurtures distinctiveness and difference, rather than demanding sameness. Love-Energy does not absorb us or eliminate our individuality, it enriches us.
Wherever there is healing there is Love-Energy. Love-energy is the healing spirit at work in living cells, in bodies, in people, and anywhere else healing is needed. People who add healing to the world, in whatever ways, are vessels of Love-Energy.
People of all faiths—and of no faith—can be receptive to Love-Energy. It transcends belief systems and is available wherever openness, compassion, and imagination are present.
In all these ways, Love-Energy flows—not loudly or dramatically, but quietly, through the everyday textures of life. To live an inspired life is to notice and be moved by these gentle currents, and to allow them to shape how we live and relate to others.
The Flow of Love-Energy
in Human Life
Creative Flow
When words, images, or melodies seem to arrive without effort—as if they come from somewhere beyond us—we may be experiencing the Spirit’s breath. Writers, painters, musicians, and other artists often speak of moments when they are “in the flow.” These are not just psychological states; they may be the Spirit moving through our creativity, offering new forms of beauty and meaning.
Courage in Vulnerability
To forgive someone who has harmed us, to speak an unpopular truth, to reach out when we’d rather withdraw—these actions often require a strength we don’t feel we possess. When we take such steps and feel held in the process, as if something larger is supporting our choice, we may be breathing with the Spirit.
Acts of Compassion
Sometimes we find ourselves responding to someone’s need without hesitation or calculation. We reach out, listen, embrace, or offer help before we’ve had time to think. These acts of spontaneous love may be the Spirit’s breath moving through us—God’s love-energy taking form in action.
Shared Movement
The Spirit also breathes through communities. In moments when people move together toward justice, reconciliation, or healing, there can be a collective breath—a shared rhythm of love and resistance that exceeds any individual will. Movements for peace, civil rights, climate justice, and care for the vulnerable are often borne on this breath.
Sacred Stillness
Sometimes we are breathed not into action, but into stillness. The Spirit may come to us as a deep peace, a quiet presence, or an inward spaciousness that holds us gently. We may be walking in nature, sitting in silence, or waking in the night. The breath comes not with noise, but with nearness.
Longing and Desire
Even our yearning can be the breath of God. Our longing for connection, for beauty, for truth, for something more—these desires may be the Spirit stirring in us, beckoning us forward. The breath doesn’t always arrive fully formed. Sometimes it arrives as hunger.
Any serious reflection on divine inspiration must also make space for questions and hesitations. Among them are three particularly important ones:
Creative Flow
When words, images, or melodies seem to arrive without effort—as if they come from somewhere beyond us—we may be experiencing the Spirit’s breath. Writers, painters, musicians, and other artists often speak of moments when they are “in the flow.” These are not just psychological states; they may be the Spirit moving through our creativity, offering new forms of beauty and meaning.
Courage in Vulnerability
To forgive someone who has harmed us, to speak an unpopular truth, to reach out when we’d rather withdraw—these actions often require a strength we don’t feel we possess. When we take such steps and feel held in the process, as if something larger is supporting our choice, we may be breathing with the Spirit.
Acts of Compassion
Sometimes we find ourselves responding to someone’s need without hesitation or calculation. We reach out, listen, embrace, or offer help before we’ve had time to think. These acts of spontaneous love may be the Spirit’s breath moving through us—God’s love-energy taking form in action.
Shared Movement
The Spirit also breathes through communities. In moments when people move together toward justice, reconciliation, or healing, there can be a collective breath—a shared rhythm of love and resistance that exceeds any individual will. Movements for peace, civil rights, climate justice, and care for the vulnerable are often borne on this breath.
Sacred Stillness
Sometimes we are breathed not into action, but into stillness. The Spirit may come to us as a deep peace, a quiet presence, or an inward spaciousness that holds us gently. We may be walking in nature, sitting in silence, or waking in the night. The breath comes not with noise, but with nearness.
Longing and Desire
Even our yearning can be the breath of God. Our longing for connection, for beauty, for truth, for something more—these desires may be the Spirit stirring in us, beckoning us forward. The breath doesn’t always arrive fully formed. Sometimes it arrives as hunger.
Any serious reflection on divine inspiration must also make space for questions and hesitations. Among them are three particularly important ones:
Questions
Is inspiration arbitrary?
Why does it sometimes seem to come unbidden—and other times remain absent, no matter how open or faithful we try to be? Process theology suggests that inspiration is not arbitrary, but it is relational. There are degrees of openness to the Spirit’s breath, and these degrees are shaped by many factors: past experiences, emotional wounds, societal pressures, habitual thought patterns, or even physical and neurological conditions. Importantly, our openness is not always within our conscious control. The same inhibiting causal factors that shape our behavior—trauma, shame, fear, fatigue—can also limit our receptivity to inspiration. We cannot simply will ourselves into being fully open at all times. What matters is that the Spirit continues to offer fresh possibilities nonetheless, working with whatever degree of openness is available in the moment.
Why are some moments dramatically inspired and others not?
The variability of inspiration can feel confusing. Why do some moments pulse with divine energy, while others feel flat or silent?
Here, process theology offers a key insight: cooperation with the Spirit can be unconscious as well as conscious. We may be deeply inspired—moved by divine love-energy—without being fully aware of it at the time. And sometimes, the silence or absence we feel may not be a lack of divine breathing, but a sign that the breath is subtle, quiet, or hidden beneath layers of our own noise. Not all inspiration feels dramatic. Sometimes it is a slow unfolding rather than a sudden spark.
Is inspiration arbitrary?
Why does it sometimes seem to come unbidden—and other times remain absent, no matter how open or faithful we try to be? Process theology suggests that inspiration is not arbitrary, but it is relational. There are degrees of openness to the Spirit’s breath, and these degrees are shaped by many factors: past experiences, emotional wounds, societal pressures, habitual thought patterns, or even physical and neurological conditions. Importantly, our openness is not always within our conscious control. The same inhibiting causal factors that shape our behavior—trauma, shame, fear, fatigue—can also limit our receptivity to inspiration. We cannot simply will ourselves into being fully open at all times. What matters is that the Spirit continues to offer fresh possibilities nonetheless, working with whatever degree of openness is available in the moment.
Why are some moments dramatically inspired and others not?
The variability of inspiration can feel confusing. Why do some moments pulse with divine energy, while others feel flat or silent?
Here, process theology offers a key insight: cooperation with the Spirit can be unconscious as well as conscious. We may be deeply inspired—moved by divine love-energy—without being fully aware of it at the time. And sometimes, the silence or absence we feel may not be a lack of divine breathing, but a sign that the breath is subtle, quiet, or hidden beneath layers of our own noise. Not all inspiration feels dramatic. Sometimes it is a slow unfolding rather than a sudden spark.
Other Kinds of Breathing
Can we be negatively breathed?
Yes. While the Spirit is always breathing new possibilities into the world, we are also vulnerable to other kinds of breathing—energies and influences that do not bring life but diminish it. Cultural toxins such as racism, consumerism, nationalism, misogyny, and fear-based religiosity can "breathe" through us, shaping our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. These forces often operate beneath conscious awareness, subtly infiltrating our sense of identity and morality.
In this way, we can be “breathed” by destructive energies that masquerade as truth or virtue. They do not come from the Spirit of love but from systems and habits that deform us. To be breathed by God, then, involves discernment—learning to distinguish between the breath that brings life and the breath that steals it.
It is part of the spiritual path to unlearn the toxic breath we’ve internalized, and to open ourselves again to the deeper breath that calls us into compassion, creativity, and courage.
Yes. While the Spirit is always breathing new possibilities into the world, we are also vulnerable to other kinds of breathing—energies and influences that do not bring life but diminish it. Cultural toxins such as racism, consumerism, nationalism, misogyny, and fear-based religiosity can "breathe" through us, shaping our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. These forces often operate beneath conscious awareness, subtly infiltrating our sense of identity and morality.
In this way, we can be “breathed” by destructive energies that masquerade as truth or virtue. They do not come from the Spirit of love but from systems and habits that deform us. To be breathed by God, then, involves discernment—learning to distinguish between the breath that brings life and the breath that steals it.
It is part of the spiritual path to unlearn the toxic breath we’ve internalized, and to open ourselves again to the deeper breath that calls us into compassion, creativity, and courage.
Discerning the Spirit
If someone claims to have been divinely inspired, how can we tell whether the inspiration is truly from the Spirit or from another source—personal desire, collective delusion, or cultural bias?
From the perspective of process theology, divine inspiration is validated not by certainty or authority, but by its alignment with three guiding ideals: truth, goodness, and beauty.
Truth refers not simply to factual accuracy but to honest contact with reality—with the way things are, including the complexities, pain, and ambiguity of life. Authentic inspiration does not deny reality but responds to it with clarity and courage. It is not fantasy, propaganda, or wishful thinking.
Goodness means that the inspiration moves toward love, justice, compassion, and care for others—especially the vulnerable. If a so-called divine message leads to cruelty, exclusion, domination, or self-righteousness, it is not the breath of God. The Spirit's breath brings healing, not harm.
Beauty refers to that which evokes wonder, wholeness, and harmony, even in the midst of brokenness. True inspiration often surprises us with its elegance, its emotional resonance, or its deep coherence. It does not always conform to conventional standards of beauty, but it brings depth, richness, and meaning.
No single person can always be the judge of their own inspiration. That’s why discernment is best done in community, over time, through shared listening and honest reflection. A life genuinely inspired by the Spirit will tend to bear fruit: integrity, compassion, courage, and joy.
Claims to divine inspiration should be held humbly, tested gently, and measured by the life they produce
Is the Bible Inspired?
John Cobb
reposted from Ask Dr. Cobb
Question: Is the Bible inspired?
January 1999
Dr. Cobb’s Response
Like so many questions asked of process theology, the answer is that it all depends on what the questioner means. If the question comes from one who thinks in very conservative categories, the answer must be an emphatic “No!” The words of the text were not dictated by God. Certainly the hand of the writer was not controlled by God. And even in the more modest sense proposed by some proponents of divine inspiration of Scripture, that God protected the authors from error, the emphatic “No!” remains. The Bible is full of errors of fact, of moral judgment, and of theological teaching.
But if the word “inspired” is being used as in ordinary language outside the conservative theological tradition, then the situation is quite different. We say that someone’s performance in a concert or in a play was inspired. We speak of poets as inspired. Even a preacher may be inspired. That is, people may be moved by the Spirit in extraordinary ways. They may be so totally caught up in what they are doing that they are not consciously controlling their actions. What results exceeds the best product of their ordinary voluntary acts.
A writer may find that sometimes the words “just flow.” A composer may feel that the music “comes to her.” Inspiration in this sense is rare enough to be greatly prized, but it is common enough that many of us experience it to some extent. Indeed, it is not altogether discontinuous from quite ordinary experience.
Process thought affirms that at a very basic level all life is inspired. That is, there is no life at all except as God’s Spirit participates in constituting us. It is that participation of the Spirit that leads to our being, in each moment, something more than the deterministic outcome of the forces from the past that also play so large a role in shaping us. The times when we think of ourselves as inspired are those when this creative novelty contributed by God’s Spirit plays a particularly strong and effective role and is less inhibited than usual by the other causal factors in our lives. So process theology affirms not only that the common use of the language of inspiration is meaningful but that the inspiration is truly the work of God.
When we think in this way, there is no reason to be skeptical of claims that many passages in the Bible are inspired. Indeed, it would be artificial to think that ancient Hebrew poets and prophets experienced inspiration less often than our contemporaries. The contrary is a reasonable guess. Our contemporaries are on the whole less intentionally open to God that were the Hebrews, and it is at least plausible to suggest that openness to God’s inspiration is conducive to it. Also the results that come down to us show many indications of inspiration.
The high ration of inspired passages in the Bible is partly due to the process of selection. No doubt there was much very ordinary writing in ancient Israel. What we now have was selected by the community through the centuries. That a community selects on the whole the more inspired parts of what is available is to be expected.
What follows from the judgment that much of the Biblical writing is inspired in this sense? Certainly not that it is free from cultural influence or class bias or patriarchal perspective! The writings are thoroughly human, and that means just as conditioned as any writings by the contexts in which they arose. But to be conditioned is not to be wholly determined. It is the element of transcendence over that determination where we find the work of the Spirit. And there is much of that creative transcendence in the Bible.
What follows from this judgment is that we do find God’s truth transmitted to us in very earthen vessels. The texts we encounter deserve our deepest respect. Of course they should be studied by all critical methods, but when the assumptions of the critic are reductionistic, then we must be open to more than the critic finds.
But is this to be said only of the Bible? Certainly not. There is inspiration in the writings of the ancient Greeks and Hindus and Chinese as well. There is inspiration also in the writings of Shakespeare and Goethe and of contemporary poets and dramatists as well. All this deserves our respect and listening.
Hence the question of the uniqueness of the Bible cannot be answered by the category of inspiration. It must be answered in terms of the importance for us of the history of Israel. That history consists of events and their interpretations inextricably connected. Without inspired interpretations the events would not be important to us today. But without unusual events the inspired writers would not be more important than the inspired writers of other communities. For us, as Christians, the most important events are those that surrounded the person of Jesus. If it had not been for these events the history that has shaped us would have been a very different one.
These events would not have been possible apart from inspired interpretations of previous events. We cannot appropriate them today apart from interpretations, and if these are not inspired, our tradition will die. Thus inspiration is involved at every point.
So my answer, as a process theologian, is that “Yes, the Bible contains much inspired material.” The healthy continuance of our Christian tradition depends on our intense appreciation of that material and continual recurrence to it. It depends, equally, on our distinguishing inspiration from any notion of inerrancy. And finally it depends on our inspired interpretations of that inspired material through relating it to all the wisdom we can gain from other sources.
Today, we may be inspired to reject some of the ideas that are found even in the most inspired passages of scripture. We have been inspired to see through patriarchy, for example, a patriarchy that pervades the Bible. In this and other respects, we must preach against the Bible. But if this negation is to be healthy, it must be qualified in two respects. First, we should continue also to listen to the truth even in those passages that we feel have done most harm and continue to be most dangerous. And second, we should recognize that, at least for many of us, the call to attack Biblical ideas is grounded in just that tradition we attack. For example, when we attack particular ideas of the prophets, our doing so continues the prophetic tradition. We may be taking the inspiration of the Bible most seriously when we are most free to critique its specific teachings.
January 1999
Dr. Cobb’s Response
Like so many questions asked of process theology, the answer is that it all depends on what the questioner means. If the question comes from one who thinks in very conservative categories, the answer must be an emphatic “No!” The words of the text were not dictated by God. Certainly the hand of the writer was not controlled by God. And even in the more modest sense proposed by some proponents of divine inspiration of Scripture, that God protected the authors from error, the emphatic “No!” remains. The Bible is full of errors of fact, of moral judgment, and of theological teaching.
But if the word “inspired” is being used as in ordinary language outside the conservative theological tradition, then the situation is quite different. We say that someone’s performance in a concert or in a play was inspired. We speak of poets as inspired. Even a preacher may be inspired. That is, people may be moved by the Spirit in extraordinary ways. They may be so totally caught up in what they are doing that they are not consciously controlling their actions. What results exceeds the best product of their ordinary voluntary acts.
A writer may find that sometimes the words “just flow.” A composer may feel that the music “comes to her.” Inspiration in this sense is rare enough to be greatly prized, but it is common enough that many of us experience it to some extent. Indeed, it is not altogether discontinuous from quite ordinary experience.
Process thought affirms that at a very basic level all life is inspired. That is, there is no life at all except as God’s Spirit participates in constituting us. It is that participation of the Spirit that leads to our being, in each moment, something more than the deterministic outcome of the forces from the past that also play so large a role in shaping us. The times when we think of ourselves as inspired are those when this creative novelty contributed by God’s Spirit plays a particularly strong and effective role and is less inhibited than usual by the other causal factors in our lives. So process theology affirms not only that the common use of the language of inspiration is meaningful but that the inspiration is truly the work of God.
When we think in this way, there is no reason to be skeptical of claims that many passages in the Bible are inspired. Indeed, it would be artificial to think that ancient Hebrew poets and prophets experienced inspiration less often than our contemporaries. The contrary is a reasonable guess. Our contemporaries are on the whole less intentionally open to God that were the Hebrews, and it is at least plausible to suggest that openness to God’s inspiration is conducive to it. Also the results that come down to us show many indications of inspiration.
The high ration of inspired passages in the Bible is partly due to the process of selection. No doubt there was much very ordinary writing in ancient Israel. What we now have was selected by the community through the centuries. That a community selects on the whole the more inspired parts of what is available is to be expected.
What follows from the judgment that much of the Biblical writing is inspired in this sense? Certainly not that it is free from cultural influence or class bias or patriarchal perspective! The writings are thoroughly human, and that means just as conditioned as any writings by the contexts in which they arose. But to be conditioned is not to be wholly determined. It is the element of transcendence over that determination where we find the work of the Spirit. And there is much of that creative transcendence in the Bible.
What follows from this judgment is that we do find God’s truth transmitted to us in very earthen vessels. The texts we encounter deserve our deepest respect. Of course they should be studied by all critical methods, but when the assumptions of the critic are reductionistic, then we must be open to more than the critic finds.
But is this to be said only of the Bible? Certainly not. There is inspiration in the writings of the ancient Greeks and Hindus and Chinese as well. There is inspiration also in the writings of Shakespeare and Goethe and of contemporary poets and dramatists as well. All this deserves our respect and listening.
Hence the question of the uniqueness of the Bible cannot be answered by the category of inspiration. It must be answered in terms of the importance for us of the history of Israel. That history consists of events and their interpretations inextricably connected. Without inspired interpretations the events would not be important to us today. But without unusual events the inspired writers would not be more important than the inspired writers of other communities. For us, as Christians, the most important events are those that surrounded the person of Jesus. If it had not been for these events the history that has shaped us would have been a very different one.
These events would not have been possible apart from inspired interpretations of previous events. We cannot appropriate them today apart from interpretations, and if these are not inspired, our tradition will die. Thus inspiration is involved at every point.
So my answer, as a process theologian, is that “Yes, the Bible contains much inspired material.” The healthy continuance of our Christian tradition depends on our intense appreciation of that material and continual recurrence to it. It depends, equally, on our distinguishing inspiration from any notion of inerrancy. And finally it depends on our inspired interpretations of that inspired material through relating it to all the wisdom we can gain from other sources.
Today, we may be inspired to reject some of the ideas that are found even in the most inspired passages of scripture. We have been inspired to see through patriarchy, for example, a patriarchy that pervades the Bible. In this and other respects, we must preach against the Bible. But if this negation is to be healthy, it must be qualified in two respects. First, we should continue also to listen to the truth even in those passages that we feel have done most harm and continue to be most dangerous. And second, we should recognize that, at least for many of us, the call to attack Biblical ideas is grounded in just that tradition we attack. For example, when we attack particular ideas of the prophets, our doing so continues the prophetic tradition. We may be taking the inspiration of the Bible most seriously when we are most free to critique its specific teachings.