Guest Contributor

MATILDA JOSLYN GAGE: IN HER NAME, AMERICAN WOMAN WRITER AND ACTIVIST (1826-1898), part 1 by Maria Dintino

Moderator’s Note: We are pleased to announce that we have formed a co-operation with The Nasty Women Writers Project, a site dedicated to highlighting and amplifying the voices and visions of powerful women. The site was founded by sisters Theresa and Maria Dintino. To quote Theresa, “by doing this work we are expanding our own writer’s web for nourishment and support.” This was originally posted on their site on January 5, 2021. You can see more of their posts here.

A few weeks back, I came upon a term I had not heard before, the ‘Matilda Effect’. It’s defined as: a bias against acknowledging the achievements of those women scientists whose work is attributed to their male colleagues (Wikipedia). This term was coined by science historian Margaret W. Rossiter in 1993, in her essay The ~~Matthew~~ Matilda Effect in Science.

The Matthew Effect, labeled in 1948 and credited to Robert K Merton, and later to Harriet Zuckerman as well, refers to the way that: eminent scientists will often get more credit than a comparatively unknown researcher, even if their work is similar; it also means that credit will usually be given to researchers who are already famous (Wikipedia).

Bible Believing Church Sign by Michelle Bodle

A dear colleague is retiring from ministry this year. As I often do at times of celebration, I think about the most meaningful conversations, questions, and impact that person has offered my life. As I was thinking of this colleague in particular, what came to mind was a statement that made to him that sparked a conversation that has been ongoing between us for almost a decade: “That church is not for me.”

My friend talked about driving his motorcycle down a well-traveled highway and seeing church after church. If you know churches, you know that church signs can be anywhere from enjoyable to problematic. Some church signs try to convey witty messages, but they often miss the mark. Other times, a church speaks of its beliefs or current sermon series, using insider churchy language that does not hit with those whom the sign may be trying to reach in the first place. But church signs do exist for a purpose – to catch the eyes of travelers, which was undoubtedly the case with my colleague.

“I was driving down this road, and the sign that caught my attention said, ‘Bible Believing Church,’ and I’ve been thinking about that repeatedly,” he stated. I replied that I didn’t need to think about that sign; I knew exactly what it was trying to convey—that I was not welcome there.

Cymidei Cymeinfoll by Diane Finkle Perazzo

Carbon and quartz; granite and marble.
Her iron bones were forged in fire.
Her heavy body was carved from stone.

She rose up through black water and rocky soil,
up to the out and around, and born into
the green and growing ground.

As she walked, the ground rumbled and shook.
Rocks rolled and tumbled from the mountains
and Roman roads crumbled where she stepped.

She brought a gift they did not ask for; a vessel
forged in fire from the womb of the earth —
a life-giving cauldron of renewal and birth.

A Feminist Reading of Saint Wilgefortis by Sofia Meskhidze

The legend of Saint Wilgefortis tells the story of a Christian woman who was martyred for her faith. While there are numerous women martyrs in the Christian tradition, Wilgefortis is distinguished by her gender non-conformity. She is often referred to as female Christ^[1] and is almost always depicted with a beard, in a dress, and nailed to a cross. According to the legend, she was a Christian princess from Portugal whose father had promised her to the pagan king of Sicily. Wilgefortis, refusing to marry, prayed all night for God to make her unmarriable and as a result miraculously grew a beard, causing her father’s rage, after which he had her tortured and crucified^[2]. The origin of the legend is thought to be the Volto Santo sculpture in Lucca, Italy, one of the most well-known examples of a clothed crucifix^[3]. Misinterpretation or not, it is without doubt that the legend spread wide and Wilgefortis was in medieval times venerated almost as much as the Virgin Mary. In fact, this popularity displeased the Catholic Church, who actively discouraged it and even removed Wilgefortis from the official list of saints in 1969^[4]. Here I argue for the importance of Wilgefortis to feminist theology, feminist and queer Christians, and her potential as a non-binary/gender non-conforming icon.

Rhiannon as Midlife Queen Mother by Kelle BanDea

We tend to think of Rhiannon as the fairy maiden on the white horse who entices Pwyll, the King and her future husband, into the Otherworld. Or she is the young mother who is unfairly blamed for the death of her own child until he is restored to her. This is Rhiannon’s story as it is most well-known, and she has become a beloved figure due to it. The image of the beautiful fairy woman on the white horse has become equated, to modern neopagan folks and Goddess-women, with the ancient Celtic and Indo-European horse goddesses. Of all the women in the medieval Welsh lore that we know as the four story ‘branches’ of the Mabinogi, Rhiannon is perhaps the most beloved.

But this is only half of the story.

FRANCESCA CACCINI (1587-1646): THE FIRST WOMAN TO COMPOSE AN OPERA by Maria Dintino

Moderator’s Note: We are pleased to announce that we are forming a co-operation with The Nasty Women Writers Project, a site dedicated to highlighting and amplifying the voices and visions of powerful women. The site was founded by sisters Theresa and Maria Dintino. To quote Theresa, “by doing this work we are expanding our own writer’s web for nourishment and support.” This was originally posted on their site on January 19, 2024. You can see more of their posts here.

The featured image above is from the 2018 performance of Caccini’s *La Liberazioine* at the Morgan Library & Museum’s Gilder Lehrman Hall in New York City. Photo credit goes to Vincent Tullo of the New York Times.

I’ve always been an insomniac and of late I’ve become a regular listener of the app Calm’s sleep stories. One night I listened to an enchanting story called Songbird, written by Eurydice Da Silva and narrated by May Charters. Songbird is about Francesca Caccini, who is said to be the first woman to compose an opera, a musical genius and wonder. The next morning, I set out to learn more about her.

Time to Heal the Ancestral Wounds From the Burning Times by Marilyn Nyborg

My work has been in the areas of social justice and the empowerment of women. Until somewhere in 1990, I saw a series of films from women in Canada on the Early Modern European Witchcraft trials which included “The Burning Times”. (Still available on You Tube.) The film talked about three centuries of Witch burnings. The narration and graphics really shocked me and awakened an interest. Intuitively I recognized the way in which women have embedded the limitations and pain of that era from centuries ago. I now know it to be called ancestral wounding.

Not to say the abuse of women began there. It didn’t. But the intensity of three centuries of extreme violence on women have impacted us and cultures through time: sowing the limitations and lack of respect for women into cultures globally.

The Pain and Struggle of Gender by Michele Bodle

In the April 2024 issue of Christianity Today, Fellipe Do Vale wrote, “Gender on Earth as in Heaven: Will Our Gender be Removed or Renewed in the Resurrection?”

The entire issue was dedicated to a conversation between egalitarian and complementarian beliefs regarding gender, which I am not here to argue. However, I will wholeheartedly and fully engage with a quote in the article where Do Vale states the following.

There is a long and impressive lineage in Christian history and
contemporary theology that says the best way to envision the
redemption of our gender is to picture its removal….
They say that gender was an attribute given to us only
because God knew humanity would sin. It was meant
to sustain us only until the restoration of creation. Therefore,
attributes like gender, race, and disability, which they believe
cause the most pain and struggle in this life, will not remain
in the resurrection.
(Do Vale, “Gender on Earth as in Heaven,” Christianity Today (Aril 2024), p. 24-25.)

What an Outdoor Movie Taught me about Biblical Women By Alicia Jo Rabins

Once I went to a free outdoor movie in Miami Beach. The film was projected on the side of the giant concert hall. There was a grassy park with palm trees stretching out from the wall; families brought picnic dinners and cans of beer and stretched out to watch the movie once the sky darkened.

The movie was Star Wars, but as Princess Leah appeared, I was thinking about a different mythic canon. For over twenty years I’ve been studying and teaching stories of Biblical women from a feminist Jewish perspective, and after all this time, I was surprised to find that the way I feel while interacting with these stories was oddly, powerfully similar to the feeling of watching Star Wars projected on the side of a building on this Miami night.

I Don’t Want Jesus by Katherine Rose Wort

Well, you may ask, who said I should?

My grandparents, mother, father, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, godparents, a good many teachers, childhood friends, a former therapist, myriad internet strangers who felt compelled to try to divert the flames approaching my immortal soul, an astrologer I met once, innumerable people encountered on public transportation and sidewalks, all of my exes’ parents, and, of course, the Roman Catholic Church — an institution of such enormous weight as to have crushed frames far sturdier than my own.