Feminism and Religion

Comrades in the Struggle – Part II by Xochitl Alvizo

This post follows Part I, which you can find here.

My journey of “seeing” continued from undergrad, to my first job, and then into grad school. After eight years of satisfying and life-giving work at the family center in Los Angeles (where I thankfully recovered my sense of self), I moved across the country to attend graduate school at Boston University (BU). I was there for eleven years, completing a Master of Divinity and a Doctor of Philosophy in Practical Theology. And, again, especially during my early years at BU, I was often the only Latina in the room.¹ It was the next predominantly white context where I continued to develop as a scholar and find my way in the academy.

It is the case for most of the Latino/a scholars I know that they too were often one of just a few, if not only, Latino/a doctoral students in their program.² This has varied impacts. Being continually in places where you do not share the culture of the majority can be taxing, psychically and emotionally. It is work.

Poems for Season by Sara Wright

In late November I first snowshoed our woodland trails to include the little balsam that I lit to honor all evergreens throughout the winter months. Every day when my little dog and I circled the tree I told her I loved her and called her ‘Lightbringer’. This daily encounter never lost its magic. The Goddess Lived during the darkest winter nights!!

The rest speak to the subtle changes that occurred from late winter into spring. My writing naturally follows both seasonal and intraseasonal shifts that might not be noticed unless a person is paying close attention.

(1) Lightbringer

Will she still
be there
shining
after the storm?
Moon Bear
is on the rise.
I peer through
white flakes
at dawn
light
pierces
her powdery
fringed shawl
Love lights
the darkest
Night.

Steadfast Balsam
cloaked or not
Ever-green,
Tree of Life.
Heartlines flow
crystalline
waters
pour down
deep sleep
oh,
Daughter
of the Night
Daughter of
The Light,
Light -Bringer
Life -Bringer
The Miracle
Is that
You Live.

The Legacy of Carol P. Christ: A Radical Conclusion: We Are Our Own Authorities

This was originally posted on August 11, 2014

Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza articulated a widely held tenet of feminist theology when she stated that feminism places a question mark over all inherited texts and traditions. This means that feminists cannot and must not accept any teaching or traditional way of performing religious acts simply because “the Bible [or the Koran or the minister or the priest or the rabbi or the imam or the guru] tells me so.”

Instead, feminists must question every text and tradition and the words of every religious leader to see whether or not they promote the full humanity of women. The implication of this is that we must acknowledge and take responsibility for becoming our own authorities—as individuals and in communities.

A tongue –in-cheek letter that began circulating on the internet in 2000 under the title “Why Can’t I Own a Canadian?” makes the point that even those who claim to be adhering to every “jot and tittle” of the Holy Book are in fact choosing to accept some aspects of tradition while rejecting others.

The letter begins:

Dear Dr. Laura,

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind him that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the specific laws and how to best follow them.

The author of the letter continues:

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?

Of Duct Tape and Dementia by Elizabeth Cunningham

I’ve climbed on a stool (which I swore I wouldn’t do again after having a bad fall while helping a friend paint a bathroom ceiling) and up onto the washing machine. A cabinet door just above has come unhinged (not unlike this author). I have considered unscrewing it and taking it off, have located the proper screwdriver, but the screw will not budge, no matter how I contort my body in this small space. If I can’t get the cabinet door to stop flopping open, I will not be able to load the washer. My hope and salvation is…duct tape. So my husband stands holding the cabinet door more (or less) still while I tear off and attach pieces of duct tape, which will more (or less) serve my purpose, till someone more skilled can do a real repair.

“Do you remember,” I ask, “when I used to say, Douglas, fix it! Whatever needed fixing.”

“No, I don’t remember.” His response to most such queries. “I don’t remember that at all.”

Brave Girls, Bad Witches: Age, Agency, and Anxiety in C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia by Elanur Williams

Lewis, C. S. *The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe*. Illustrated by Pauline Baynes, 1950

In the landscape of mid-twentieth-century children’s literature, C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia initially appears remarkably progressive. Long before modern fantasy embraced the trope of the fiercely independent heroine, Lewis gives us the Pevensie sisters, Jill Pole, Aravis, and Polly Plummer. These are active, clear-eyed adventurers. Lucy is the spiritual compass of the entire saga, possessing a theological clarity that routinely eludes her brothers. Jill braves subterranean terrors to rescue a captive prince, while Aravis flees an arranged marriage with the sharp wit of a seasoned survivalist. In Narnia, childhood is a meritocracy of spirit, and Lewis grants his young girls immense pluck, agency, and divine grace.

However, from a feminist and theological perspective, this grace comes with a strict expiration date, and a jarring ideological fracture occurs the moment a female character crosses the threshold into adult womanhood. I find that although Lewis champions the plucky girl, he displays narrative anxiety toward the grown woman. Could it be that in the Narnian universe, female maturity is treated as a spiritual fall from grace, an intersection where Christian purity is compromised by adult desire and bodily autonomy?

Into Me I See: The Sacred Torch of Feminine Heat by Jsabél Bilqís

There’s that throbbing again! In the slit center of me. Spreading vehemently, devouring, insatiable, red like blood and warm like body. They say I’m Jezebel because I like it when she purrs.

𖦹

‘Now you can get pregnant.’

I became a woman but all my mother saw was a dirty girl. Like the wombs before and around me, scorched by estranged origins, I got in bed with shame and became disembodied, found myself in hell.

‘Virgin or Harlot?’, they asked me at the gates.

Sensing my fullness, I looked Illusion in the eyes.

‘Both.’

Engulfed in the flames, I chose all of me and it purified every thing that was not free.

Creative Resistance Minnesota Style: Part II by Beth Bartlett

Part 1 was posted yesterday

The Minnesota resistance went far beyond Gene Sharp’s catalog of techniques. Minnesotans kept their resistance up through creativity, celebration, fun, and humor in those dark, cold days. On a cold, clear January night, hundreds gathered on Lake Nokomis using hand-held candles and ice candles to spell out the words, “ICE OUT.”

The annual sled art contest was turned into a spoof of ICE – with a giant cardboard bowling bowl rolled down the hill to knock down fascist kingpins – Trump, Putin, Orbán; a young boy on his plastic sled festooned with Monarca’s butterflies saying “We Are Family” and “Justice for Renée Good”; sleds with messages of “Resist” and “Love Melts Ice” on a giant heart; a sled decorated as a bottle of de-icer and one of a chicken wearing a whistle with the message, “ICE OUT MSP.”

The whistle was to represent one of the most noteworthy and effective resistance strategies. Whenever witnesses spotted ICE agents in the area or an arrest in progress, they would blow their whistles to alert those close by – short bursts to indicate ICE is nearby or long blasts to indicate ICE is actively detaining someone, with the added instructions to “Form a Crowd. Stay Loud. Stay nonviolent.” The whistles, most given out free by local businesses and activist groups, became a symbol of resistance and more importantly, solidarity, as whole neighborhoods came together to protect their neighbors.

Creative Resistance Minnesota Style: Part I by Beth Bartlett

Mulford would have been proud. Mulford Q. Sibley was Professor of Political Science at the University of Minnesota. He was also my PhD advisor and dear friend. A nationally known scholar of political thought, his particular interest and focus was on nonviolent resistance. Some of those in my PhD cohort had come from places of violence with the specific intent to study methods of nonviolent resistance with Mulford. As the creative and impressive acts of nonviolent resistance unfolded in the Twin Cities this past winter, I often wondered how much those in the resistance had been influenced by Mulford, either directly or indirectly in ways they may not even have known.

Mulford introduced me to several classics of nonviolence, including the work of Gene Sharp, author of the 3-volume series, The Politics of Nonviolent Action. Looking through his second volume on the methods of nonviolent action, I saw among the nearly two hundred practices so many that those in the resistance in the Twin Cities used. The resistance was varied, creative, persistent, and grounded. It easily could have been following Gene Sharp’s playbook . . .

Formal Statements – public speeches, letters of opposition, declarations by organizations and institutions, group or mass petitions, etc. At rallies, at the State Capitol, from the governor’s and mayor’s offices, in mass emails the people spoke their opposition to the ICE invasion of Minnesota. We were not cowed into silence and submission. The opposition was vocal, dignified, and determined.

The Legacy of Intergenerational Violence/ Silence, part 2 By Sara Wright

Part 1 was posted last week. You can read it here.

I also came to understand the role Intergenerational Silence played in the dance between my mother and father. My mother controlled through silence, a perfect correlate to her husband’s explosive rages. Silence and Rage make grotesque bedmates, and both destroy relationships.

My mother’s story remained veiled. Except on one occasion, my mother never apologized to me for her actions so that bridge remains broken.

Everything I know about my mother’s history (and that isn’t much) I learned from her relatives. I knew she was illegitimate, the daughter of a wealthy and very married senator and my grandmother. She lived a privileged life and was sent to the very best schools/colleges. Once a month she visited with her biological father. By the time my mother was in her twenties she severed this relationship for unknown reasons. I have no idea if she ever met her half – brothers and sisters. She disliked – blamed (?) my grandmother who was banned from the family when she became pregnant. No doubt shame was an issue for all. My mother lived with my grandmother’s sisters, my great aunts and called my grandmother by her first name. She married twice. The first marriage was annulled by the family. No idea why. Secrets and Silence ruled my mother’s family; and she clearly perfected that tendency. Didn’t anyone recognize that secrets leave holes that cannot be bridged once that person is dead?

The Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Good Theology is Feminist Theology

The was originally posted on July 21, 2014

Judith Plaskow and I are just now completing the draft of the manuscript of the book we have been working on for the past 2 ½ years. It has a new title: Two Views of Goddess and God for Our Time.* I have been thinking of little else for the past few weeks. An editor who is considering our book said that she was hoping we could address our book to an audience larger than the feminist theology community. Thinking about this, a light dawned: if feminist theology is right that traditional theology denies the full humanity of women, then good theology must be feminist theology. Our work is not tangential to the theological mainstream, but is at its center.

We have revised the Introduction and Conclusion to the book with the assumption that our work should appeal not just to other feminists, but to a wide range of intelligent readers and thinkers. The fact that we were asked to participate in a dialogue about the nature of God in Tikkun magazine’s Summer 2014 inspires us to hope that we are right that feminist theology is becoming part of the progressive theological mainstream.