Author: Gina Messina

Gina Messina, Ph.D. is Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Ursuline College and Co-founder of Feminism and Religion. She writes for the Huffington Post and is the author or editor of five books including "Faithfully Feminist" and "Jesus in the White House: Make Humanity Great Again." Her research interests are theologically and ethically driven, involve a feminist and interdisciplinary approach, and are influenced by her activist roots and experience working with survivors of rape and domestic violence. Gina is a widely sought after speaker and has presented across the US at universities, organizations, conferences, and in the national news circuit including appearances on Tavis Smiley, MSNBC, NPR, and the TEDx stage. She has also spoken at the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations to discuss matters impacting the lives women around the globe. She is active in movements to end violence against women and explores opportunities for spiritual healing for those who have encountered gender-based violence. Connect with Gina on Facebook, Twitter @GMessinaPhD, Instagram @GinaMessinaPhD, and her website http://www.ginamessina.com.

Spirituality and Happiness by Gina Messina

A course on happiness at Harvard University is the most popular class in the nation right now. It is taught by Tal Ben-Shahar who also wrote the book Happier based on his curriculum. “What does it mean to be happy?” seems to be the question that many are asking these days as we are accumulating more with less fulfillment. Perhaps the question we should be asking is, “what does it mean to have what we need?”

We wake up each morning thinking that we do not have enough — not enough sleep, not enough time, not enough money, etc. We have fed into the media messaging that we need more and that a gluttonous life is a good life. We want the bigger house, the new car, the walk in closet filled with the latest fashion, and high dollar skin care products so we can escape aging.  

I am guilty of succumbing to the predatory marketing practices. I’ve openly admitted to having an unhealthy obsession with handbags. I had assembled quite the collection over the years. Each had its own dust bag and I kept them stuffed with tissue paper to maintain their form. They lined my closet and occasionally I would stop to admire them. Sometimes I switched bags based on what would work best with my outfit, or hold my laptop, or what would put the least weight on my shoulder. For a while, they were a source of pride.

As I had found myself swept up in the happiness question, I realized that the beautiful, well constructed bags that I had collected did not increase my quality of life; in fact, they did little more than add clutter to my closet. Thus, it begs the question, why did I want them in the first place? Continue reading “Spirituality and Happiness by Gina Messina”

Where’s the Love by Gina Messina

In a recent post I wrote about finding God in music. I confess, I cannot remember the last time I set foot in a church. As a woman, I continually grapple with the foundational messages of Jesus and Catholic Social Teaching and the disconnect with the power structures that seek to control the ways we love and find justice. I long to participate in the culture I grew up in, but cannot support the weaponization of the tradition. 

Lately, I’ve come to realize that the messages I connect to I find in music. There are particular songs that offer me the guidance, philosophy, and ideas around meaning and purpose that I resonate with. One of those is “Where’s the Love?” by the Black Eyed Peas.  

I’ve been listening to it on repeat lately because it is the sermon I need to hear; it speaks to me and even though it was recorded quite a while ago, it is still relevant. I think it is fair to say that in our current socio-political culture, people are “acting like they got no mamas.”  And by the way, I include myself in that statement. Like anyone, I sometimes get so caught up in believing that my way is the only way, I forget to listen to what others have to say.

We are in the midst of a political civil war and are so busy yelling past each other, we’ve forgotten how critical unity is to shaping a healthy government that serves its purpose – caring for the people. Continue reading “Where’s the Love by Gina Messina”

Some Lessons We Learn the Hard Way by Gina Messina

I’ve written some very personal things in my most recent posts sharing that I am working towards a rebirth. The terrain has been rough and I keep waiting for a smooth path to appear on the horizon; but it isn’t quite visible yet. There are many factors: single parenting, career, the mid-life crisis, menopause…NOT the musical (peri-menopause really, but you know what I mean). It’s like going through puberty all over again with bad skin, mood swings, insecurities abound; but a thousand times worse and with hot flashes, rage, and memory loss. I imagine some of you nodding your heads and laughing as you read this…or maybe crying depending on which way your mood is swinging. I’m learning to embrace Evelyn’s alter ego “Towanda” in Fried Green Tomatoes.

When we are struggling, it is easy to sink into despair and disconnect from the love that surrounds us. I often find myself overwhelmed with day to day life: prepping for classes, grading, packing lunches, helping with homework, getting dinner on the table, laundry, dishes, paying bills, etc. As women, we are supposed to be nurturers balancing it all while taking care of everyone around us. We are told this is our “god-given” role and that pressure can be crushing. I often wonder, who is going to take care of me?

Sometimes making a simple phone call or sending a text message feels like more than I can bear. I can’t make myself do it. I get stuck in the never ending cycle of the daily grind and I think I’ll get to the phone call, text message, or email tomorrow. And then, I blink and a month has passed.

As I write this, I am grieving a great loss for our family. My dear Uncle Ralph, who I wrote about in a previous post, has made his journey to the spiritual realm. I last saw him a little over a month ago when my daughter Sarah and I baked him a cheesecake – a favorite family recipe that invoked the presence of the some of the women we’ve lost – my mother, grandmother, our Great Aunt Dee Dee (who the recipe originated with). When we left I promised to send a link with some articles, a recipe, and Sarah and I had planned to head back for another visit with a batch of cupcakes. I thought about it every day. And I put it off in favor of the daily grind, the aggravation, the despair, the hot flash, or “adulting.”

Sarah talked about Uncle Ralph often asking when we would go back and expressed her fear of not seeing him again. And then this morning, I heard the news. It sunk in my gut like a brick. And I thought about this song, “Some Lessons We Learn the Hard Way” where Melody Gardot laments:

Life goes away in a flash

Right before your eyes

If I think real hard well I reckon I’ve had some real good times

Well why do the hands of time

So easily unwind

Some lessons we learn the hard way

Some lessons don’t come easy

That’s the price we have to pay

During my last conversation with my uncle, he said he was so grateful for a second chance; entering hospice gave him the opportunity to recognize what is really important in life and all that he often lost sight of because of the daily grind — love. He knew that God was with him and he recognized the beauty of life as a divine gift.

Uncle Ralph said it was as if he was having a living wake. Everyday people came to visit him; they shared stories and laughs, and he was reminded of how many people loved him. Now, he focused on spending every last moment deeply engaged in relationship. Uncle Ralph, Aunt Mary, their children Colleen and Tim, and grandson Jacoby spent their days sitting together appreciating the family they had grown into. Some might say they were wasting time; but really they came to understand the greatest lesson of our lives. It is those precious moments that we share with one another that matter. God is present in those moments. We experience the divine in relationship. My dear uncle has given me such a gift in this lesson.

Tonight, as I am writing, strangely a notification from Uber Eats popped up on my phone. It said I had a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts in my cart ready to be delivered. I opened the app and was going to delete it. But I accidentally placed the order. (Really it was an accident!) In pursuit of a healthier lifestyle, I haven’t had a Krispy Kreme donut in ages. I’ve convinced myself that the donuts were Uncle Ralph granting me grace from the other side…or maybe playing a practical joke; he was always the prankster. A reminder of the sweetness that life can bring if we embrace what we are supposed to.

Rest in peace, my dear Uncle Ralph.

Gina Messina, Ph.D. is an American feminist scholar, Catholic theologian, activist, and mom. She serves as Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Ursuline College and is co-founder of FeminismAndReligion.com. She has written for the Huffington Post and is author or editor of five books including Jesus in the White House: Make Humanity Great Again and Women Religion Revolution. Messina is a widely sought after speaker and has presented across the US at universities, organizations, conferences and on national platforms including appearances on MSNBC, Tavis Smiley, NPR and the TEDx stage. She has also spoken at the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations to discuss matters impacting the lives of women around the globe. Messina is active in movements to end violence against women and explores opportunities for spiritual healing. Connect with her on Twitter @GMessinaPhD, Instagram: @GinaMessinaPhD, Facebook, and her website ginamessina.com.

Mary of Magdala and Intersectionality by Gina Messina

We recently celebrated the feast day of St. Mary of Magdala, a woman who is responsible for the founding of the Christian tradition and a model of what it means to live up to the role and expectation of being a human being. 

Committed to Jesus’ message of love, inclusion, liberation, and social justice, she funded his ministry and in his darkest hour, when the male apostles had abandoned him, Mary of Magdala stood at the foot of the cross. 

The Gospels honor her as the person Jesus chose to reveal his resurrected self to – and the first person to preach the message of the Risen Christ — a message initially met with utter disbelief by the male apostles. This male dominated book was careful to ensure that the world knew that Mary of Magdala — a woman — had a primary role in Jesus’ ministry and the establishing of Christianity. Without her – we would not know the message of Jesus as we do today. 

We see how she has been punished for this.  The shifting of her identity dictated by the patriarchal structures of the Church is well demonstrated through art history. Early on her image was shared as a woman who was respected – her head covered and wearing colors that signified her position of importance. Following the not so accidental interpretation of Mary of Magdala as a prostitute in 591 CE by Pope Gregory I, suddenly the imagery changes to a woman with red hair, long and flowing, often nude, begging to be forgiven. What better way to silence a woman than call her a whore? Continue reading “Mary of Magdala and Intersectionality by Gina Messina”

Finding God in Music by Gina Messina

We cannot force a connection with God through a faulty conduit. What is important is that we affirm ourselves when we find it — when we feel it. Embrace those experiences, name them for what they are and recognize that you are sacred and the divine – whatever that means to you – is present.

When I’m in a funk, I generally feed into it and make it worse. Once we are in a rut it is easy to continue the spiral downward. I’m good at admonishing myself for lacking gratitude when I feel this way. It might be a Catholic guilt thing.

A few days ago, I was in a dark place; but this time I tried to own my sadness, acknowledge it, and let it go. The only thing I could think to do in hopes of shifting my emotions was to put on music – something up beat that would allow me to transcend the moment.  

I listened to a live version of “Stay” by The Dave Matthews Band, a song about embracing the beauty of our lives and the idea that those moments where it feels like we are just wasting time are often our most precious; the ones that allow us to connect with each other and ourselves. It was the sermon I needed — and an important lesson my uncle taught me — but more on that shortly.

I often say that I think music is the sound of my spirit — our spirits. As I started writing this, I struggled with finding the words to articulate the feeling music provokes within me. There is little else that creates such an indescribable experience and that is why I think that music is where I find my connection to the divine. 

Traditional religious services have always felt challenging to me.  I don’t connect to much of anything and generally find myself feeling angry and rejected by the Church and the community where I am supposed to find God. My grappling with Catholicism aside, we are told that our spiritual lives must take place within particular dimensions, and for many of us God is not there. Continue reading “Finding God in Music by Gina Messina”

Grief and Rebirth by Gina Messina

Rebirth is challenging. It demands that we be accountable, acknowledge failures and fears, recognize the ramifications of our actions, and the ways we impact those who share our journey. We often don’t realize that denying self-love and care in favor of sacrifice for others results in a double negative. If we don’t care or ourselves, we cannot care for anyone else. 

Warning…TMI ahead. I’ve thought a lot about writing this piece. I believe in the spirit of sharing experience; learning from one another—recognizing our own stories and finding we are not alone—when someone is willing to speak her truth. My gratitude to Carol Christ whose courage to share experience has empowered me to brave (I feel an overwhelming urge to insert emojis to express my emotion and gratitude; and although I am desperately trying to restrain myself… 🤗❤️🙏).

Being vulnerable is scary. It is uncomfortable. It requires us to share our deepest fears, that for which we feel shame. It can be embarrassing. We don’t want to be judged. And yet, our vulnerability can also promote our own healing and offer a sense of comfort to those who share in our struggle. And so, I feel like I should shout out Geronimo…

This month marks eleven years since losing my mother to violence. It also marks fours year since I chose to leave my seventeen year marriage. I hadn’t before made the connection about these two events occurring the same month until this very moment of my writing – but it occurs to me that there is a significance in finding strength during a time when I was grieving the anniversary of my mother’s passing. Perhaps a reflection for another post…

I remember the moment I knew that my marriage was likely going to end; I felt like I was dying. I begged my husband to stay. I recited prayers that have never brought me comfort. I went to a church that offered me no community. I sought counseling from a priest who devalues me because I am a woman. I turned to the traditional interpretation of my religion to keep me firmly placed in an unhealthy marriage. Power structure enforcing power structure.    Continue reading “Grief and Rebirth by Gina Messina”

A Family Resurrected by Gina Messina

IMG_0159Today, Good Friday, marks the seventh anniversary of one of the most significant dates in my life – the adoption of my daughter, Sarah.  On Easter Sunday, 2012 I wrote about the resurrection of my family.

Much has changed since the government acknowledged that Sarah is my child – something I knew from the moment we saw each other. My seventeen year marriage ended, I lost significant persons in my life to death — and to the 2016 presidential election, and my career has had many ups and downs. While many of us think of our lives as a path to resurrection, what I have come to understand in being a mother, is that resurrection is not a once and for all thing. Every day, I find salvation in the moments I experience with Sarah. I recognize the ways my loved ones are resurrected in me. And I have found new appreciation for the joys life brings, even when they seem few amongst the ways we experience suffering and loss.

In the years that I have been blogging, this is by far my favorite post and I have been so grateful for the many wonderful responses I have received from it.  It seems an appropriate time to revisit this incredible experience and once again, give thanks for the experience of salvation in my life, and proclaim the miracle of my family.

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As I had written about in a previous post, my ex-husband and I had a very long struggle with infertility.  After nine years, multiple failed rounds of infertility treatments, and much heartache, we decided to look at alternative options to grow our family.  Once we had made the decision to adopt, I felt new hope.  There was a light at the end of the tunnel and I knew a child would be coming home to us before long.  I had a dream that Mary, the mother of Jesus, had come to me and told me that I would be a mother.  She promised that a child was waiting that needed and wanted mg love and would arrive soon.  I began praying to a shrine of Mary at a local parish near my home; she became my source of strength and solace.

Not long after being approved for the adoption waiting list, I embarked on a trip to Italy with my family to visit my father’s hometown and meet our relatives.  It was quite an adventure and during our excursion I stopped in every church I passed to say a prayer to Mary.  Half way through the trip I received a call that a child was matched with me.  To say I was overjoyed would be a complete understatement.  I tried to catch an earlier flight home but was unable.  A once in a lifetime trip was suddenly of no interest as I sat around my hotel room looking at baby items, reading parenting info, and preparing for the homecoming of my daughter.  

Mommy and Baby S meet for the first time.
Mommy and Sarah meet for the first time.

I met my daughter – Baby S – for the first time in January, 2011.  She was 20 months old and from the moment I saw her, I knew we were destined to be together.  I had been terrified on our way to meet her wondering what she would be like.  Would she like me? Love me?  Would she accept me as her mother?  When I entered her foster home and came around the corner, we locked eyes as she ran toward me giggling; I picked her up and we embraced and I instantly fell in love.  She was the child Mary had promised me.

After my daughter had been home for about a month, I was notified that there was a problem with her adoption.  A biological relative had hired an attorney and was seeking custody.  It was an incredible shock; I was frightened and found that I had no rights in the process because I was considered a foster parent until the adoption was finalized.  After three months of having my daughter home a court ruled that she had been placed with me in error.  Baby S was taken from my custody and my world crashed around me.

The grief I felt was unbearable and I questioned what kind of God would be so cruel.  My family was lost, as was my dream of being a parent.  I had given up on motherhood; after losing Baby S I could not imagine bringing another child into my home.

Five months passed when I received the unexpected and unbelievable call from the adoption worker that the relative was no longer able to care for Baby S; she had asked that Baby S be returned to my care.  It was a miracle, my daughter was coming home to me.

From the time I received the call until Baby S came home, nearly three weeks had passed.  Again, I was worried about seeing her for the first time.  How difficult would it be for her to move again?  What had her life been like for five months?  Would she accept me as her mother?  When she finally arrived Baby S walked into our home and into my arms.  Our connection had never faded.  She was my daughter.  Mary had known it, and at that moment, I knew it.

 

Baby S has been home for a little over six months now.  She has changed my life in so many ways and every day I wake up thankful to be her mom.  While the grief I had (and Sarah too) endured was unspeakable, the end result was worthy.  I have come to know Baby S’s biological family well.  They are wonderful people and together we all share a deep love for Baby S and want what is best for her.  We will have an open adoption, a true gift in so many ways.  Had we not gone through this entire ordeal, we would have never come to know her biological relatives.  I believe Baby S’s life will be better for it, as will ours.

I had been unable to share our wonderful news previously because our adoption was pending.  However, on Good Friday we entered a courtroom with Baby S and her adoption was finalized.  I wept as the judge who had removed Baby S from my custody a year ago stated that it was clear she belonged with me.  It was the moment I had been waiting for; although Mary told me Baby S was destined to be my child, although I have known she is my daughter for sometime, the legal system has finally recognized this as well.  So here, on this Easter Sunday, I am writing to tell you our family has been resurrected.

Gina Messina, Ph.D. is an American feminist scholar, Catholic theologian, activist, and mom. She serves as Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Ursuline College and is co-founder of FeminismAndReligion.com. She has written for the Huffington Post and is author or editor of five books including Jesus in the White House: Make Humanity Great Again and Women Religion Revolution. Messina is a widely sought after speaker and has presented across the US at universities, organizations, conferences and on national platforms including appearances on MSNBC, Tavis Smiley, NPR and the TEDx stage. She has also spoken at the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations to discuss matters impacting the lives of women around the globe. Messina is active in movements to end violence against women and explores opportunities for peace building and spiritual healing. Connect with her on Twitter @GMessinaPhD, Instagram: @GinaMessinaPhD, Facebook, and her website ginamessina.com.

Expectations and Fulfillment by Gina Messina

Version 2What is happiness? We all seek it. And yet, it seems so difficult to define. We often find ourselves drawn to options for synthetic happiness — having more things. I am embarrassed to admit that when I am struggling, I distract myself with retail therapy. And now, I don’t even have to leave my bed to do it. A few clicks and a package will show up at my doorstep in two days. However, once it arrives, I usually don’t remember placing the order. It is a transient fix that allows me to avoid feeling. I am guilty. 

Admittedly, I can be shallow. I fall into the trappings of our materialistic and youth obsessed culture. I am easily swayed by the ad telling me that I need a new face cream to smooth my deepening wrinkles, shapewear to hide the reality of my aging body, or the new miracle pill that promises to speed up my sluggish metabolism. I participate in a culture that tells me that as a woman, my appearance is more important than my health and that growing old will leave me grotesque, alone, and having no value.

Living in a capitalistic society, we cannot engage in synthetic happiness unless we have money. Thus, we are always seeking the higher paying job, working more hours for a few extra pennies in hopes it will be enough to compete with our neighbors. In the meantime, our expectations keep us from ever being fulfilled.  Continue reading “Expectations and Fulfillment by Gina Messina”

Who is God? by Gina Messina

I often say I am a theologian who is uncomfortable with prayer and does not have a relationship with God. What I mean is that I am still trying to figure out how I understand the divine; conventional prayers feel exclusionary and that is not something I want to participate in. Instead, I believe there is so much more to these concepts than traditional theology offers.

I find comfort in Mary, mother of Jesus, Mary of Magdala, Maria Goretti, my grandmothers, and my own mother — in communing with the saints. I feel connected to them. I know what it means to be a woman, a mother, a daughter, and to live in a misogynistic world. Growing up with patriarchal imagery of God continues to influence my perceptions about the divine and I have not yet found a way to develop a sacred relationship with a being I have struggled to view as anything other than oppressive. I am on a journey, and one that often gets pushed to the side in favor of teaching, grading, parenting, writing, cooking, cleaning, laundry…and when I can get it, sleep.

It seems that my nine-year old daughter is also on a journey and having her first crisis of faith. She has come to me with many questions about God lately. Initially she asked if God is real and how we can know. Then she moved on to other questions…and then assumptions. Last week, Sarah came home from school and told me that God is a white man. My heart broke a little. I asked her why she thought that and she responded, “Haven’t you seen all the pictures of God? Duh.”  Continue reading “Who is God? by Gina Messina”