Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Connection to Ancestors in Earth-based Theology

carol p. christ 2002 color

This post was originally published on Jan. 14th, 2013

“I am Carol Patrice Christ, daughter of Jane Claire Bergman, daughter of Lena Marie Searing, daughter of Dora Sofia Bahlke, daughter of Mary Hundt who came to Michigan from Mecklenburg, Germany in 1854.  I come from a long line of women, known and unknown, stretching back to Africa.”

Like many Americans, my ancestral history was lost and fragmented due to emigration, religious and ethnic intermarriage, and movement within the United States.  Though one of my grandmothers spoke proudly of her Irish Catholic heritage and one of my grandfathers acknowledged his Swedish ancestry, I was raised to think of myself simply as “American,” “Christian” and “middle class.”  Ethnic and religious differences were erased, and few stories were told.

Over the past two years, I have begun to discover details of my ancestral journey, which began in Africa, continued in the clan of Tara, and was marked by the Indo-European invasions.  In more recent times, my roots are in France, Holland, England, Germany, Ireland, Scotland, and Sweden.  In the United States, my family has lived in tenements in New York City and Brooklyn, in poverty in Kansas City, and on farms in Long Island, Connecticut, upstate New York, Michigan, and Pennsylvania.  My parents and grandparents settled in northern and southern California during the 1930s.  I have lived in southern and northern California, Italy, Connecticut, New York, Boston, and now Greece.

Learning details about family journeys has created a shift in my sense of who I am.  Continue reading “Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Connection to Ancestors in Earth-based Theology”

From the Archives: TULIP by Esther Nelson

This was originally posted on May 7, 2022

I’ve been blown away this Spring by the abundant beauty and sheer number of tulips planted throughout Roanoke, Virginia, a city I’m beginning to think of as “home.” 

If I were to pick a favorite flower, it would be the tulip, yet I find it impossible to look at a tulip without being reminded of my religious upbringing regarding “salvation” as represented in the acronym of Calvinism’s “Five Points.”  Each tulip displays five petals in its flower.  Each petal stands for one point.

T=Total Depravity

 U=Unconditional Election

 L=Limited Atonement

 I=Irresistible Grace

P=Preservation and Perseverance of the saints. 

When my (now ex-) sister-in-law delivered her first baby one Spring, I gave her a pot of tulip plants, reminding her that T-U-L-I-P was the basis of our faith.  The plant didn’t live to the following Spring, portending perhaps my future abandonment of T-U-L-I-P doctrine—doctrine being an interpretation of Scripture.  T-U-L-I-P  lays out an understanding of soteriology (doctrine explaining human salvation) hammered out by the French theologian John Calvin (1509-1564) and developed further by his Protestant followers.

Continue reading “From the Archives: TULIP by Esther Nelson”

Expansion and Contraction: The Rhythms of Life by Dr. Mary Gelfand

Mary and her Aunt Dot (Dorothy Ellis) near the end of her life

This morning, my husband and I loaded seven large orange garbage bags into the car, along with two containers each of paper products and plastics.  Off we went to the local transfer station to dispose of our trash and recycling. Next, we drove to the grocery store and came home with 3 bags of food. Disposables out, consumables in.

This rhythm is familiar from my old urban life as well—haul garbage cans to the curb—shop for more food.  Indeed, it is a pattern repeated multiple times daily across the country, and perhaps even the world. It is a pattern present in our bodies and the bodies of all other living things. Receive food, water, air—release waste products composed of food, water and air. A simple process of in and out—inhale and exhale—repeated ad infinitum until death claims us.

In the Journey of the Universe, cosmologist Brian Swimme discusses the creation of the universe in terms of natural cycles of expansion and contraction. These “two opposing dynamics, expansion and contraction, were the dominant powers operating at the beginning of the universe.  … the universe as a whole…has been shaped by these two opposing and creative dynamics. (p. 6)”

Continue reading “Expansion and Contraction: The Rhythms of Life by Dr. Mary Gelfand”

Our Parent Who Art In Charge: The Subconscious Idolatry of Authoritarian Parenting by Tallessyn Zawn Grenfell-Lee

I remember the first time I noticed my oldest child intentionally tell me a lie. She was probably six. Of course, she had fibbed plenty of times as a toddler, but those were more like experiments by a budding scientist to discover what would happen if she said this or that. But as a slightly older child, this lie – which I saw through immediately – was clearly an attempt to escape punishment or chastisement of some kind. 

Frankly, it was an understandable, intelligent choice. I stared at her, frozen, feeling like a failure as a parent. I realized in that moment that it was entirely because of me that she was lying. I had clearly taught her that telling me the truth led to undesirable outcomes – shaming, ‘consequences,’ maybe even anger – and forced her to choose between two bad options: now she felt bad about the lie, too.

It was a pivotal moment in my parenting journey, because I had been raised with the idea that my job as a parent was to be in charge, teach right from wrong, and direct my kids’ behavior and choices. Basically, I should be a benevolent dictator. But that idea had never really sat well with me, so I had been trying to find alternatives to either authoritarian or permissive parenting styles. I didn’t have a term for it at the time, but nowadays, you could call what I was seeking ‘democratic parenting.’

Continue reading “Our Parent Who Art In Charge: The Subconscious Idolatry of Authoritarian Parenting by Tallessyn Zawn Grenfell-Lee”

The Gift of Enduring Friendship by Sara Wright

Mathias Klang from Göteborg, Sweden, Wikimedia Commons

After I experienced a sudden shattering break in a friendship with a woman writer/editor that I loved (that I believed would endure any personal difficulty) I was unable to process the event. I wrote a short poem to express my disbelief in which I likened this betrayal to the cutting down of this woman’s tree and left it at that. Silence is a killer of soul. There is no place to go.

The profound rupture of this woman thread felt catastrophic (I have never had a woman friend like her), and in retrospect I still see and experience our friendship in this light. At the time my life was in crisis. I had other consuming worries. Because I had learned at my mother’s knee that silence is literally the end of the road the bottomless chasm that separated us did not lessen in intensity, but I lived on.

Six years later that rupture has been healed. How did this happen? My friend, who happens to be something of a genius, intellectual, professional editor writer/poet wrote a book that she offered to anyone who wanted to read it for free. This act of great generosity was so typical of this woman’s behavior that it galvanized me into action. I took the risk and contacted her directly asking for a copy. I don’t recall just what I said except that I wished we could be friends again, never believing the impossible would happen but it did.

Continue reading “The Gift of Enduring Friendship by Sara Wright”

Legacy of Carol P. Christ: “The Divine Mystery”?

carol-christ

This post was originally published on Nov. 11th, 2013

“The mystery of God in feminist theological discourse” is the subtitle of Elizabeth Johnson’s widely read She Who Is. The notion that God is “a mystery” is rarely questioned in feminist theologies. But maybe it should be.

Although it is true that the finite cannot encompass the infinite, and that all knowledge is rooted in particular standpoints, I do not agree that the first and last thing to be said about the divine power is that it is “a mystery.” Indeed as I will argue here, speaking about God as “a mystery” obscures more than it “reveals.”

christina's loveThe notion that Goddess or God is “a mystery” is rooted in notions of “a God out there” that most spiritual feminists reject. Goddess or God “in” the world is, I suggest, not unknown, but known, not hidden, but revealed–in the beauty of the world and in ordinary acts of love and generosity.

The notion that God is “a mystery” is a well-worn trope in Roman Catholic theology. Protestants make similar claims when they speak of  the hiddenness of God Continue reading “Legacy of Carol P. Christ: “The Divine Mystery”?”

We’ve Seen This Playbook Before by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

Wikimedia Commons

ICE has been doing mass round-ups of anyone who looks like “the other.” The people cheered.  “This is my country,” they shouted to the deportees. “Go back where you came from.” The people are flush with excitement thinking this is what we voted for, meanwhile ignoring that they came from someplace too. We know this is a publicity stunt. How? Dr. Phil tagged along on one of round-ups.  Newly minted secretary Kristi Noem also took her role in the spotlight attending one in NYC and saying dehumanizing words I will not repeat here. 

We’ve seen this playbook before. Creating chaos, disorientation and suffering for political points, TV or other publicity ratings. It doesn’t end well – EVER!

The NY Times had a report of how deportees were treated in a dehumanizing manner, being held on a broken plane in the Amazonian heat with no AC, people shackled, children were on board.  There are always people available to treat other people as less than human. “I was just doing my job.”  “I was only following orders.” 

We’ve seen this playbook before.  It doesn’t end well – EVER!

Continue reading “We’ve Seen This Playbook Before by Janet Maika’i Rudolph”

Overnight at a Neolithic Dolmen: A Womb Healing Ceremony by Eline Kieft

In preparation for my hysterectomy, I decided to spend a night in a dolmen at Samhain last year, to seek guidance and healing. I chose Dolmen de Bajouilière in Saint-Rémy-la-Varenne, in Northern France, a site I had discovered by chance the previous year on my local explorations.

This well-preserved structure, with its spacious square divided into two rooms, felt inviting and safe for an overnight ritual. Though I am accustomed to spending nights in neolithic monuments, mostly in the UK, I felt some hesitation, partly due to my intermediate French and unfamiliarity with the local spirits.

Nevertheless, I recognized this resistance as part of the ego’s fear of the unknown, and I gave myself permission to retreat if needed. If I would feel too vulnerable, it wouldn’t serve my body and spirit ahead of the surgery. Please join me on my overnight Samhain Ceremony full of deep imagery and transformation as I shed my womb three times… 

Continue reading “Overnight at a Neolithic Dolmen: A Womb Healing Ceremony by Eline Kieft”

Three Women by Beth Bartlett

In the first ten days of the Trump administration, when his sycophants are purring and praising, private corporate execs are rolling over and doing his bidding, and even many of his opponents in Congress have been somewhat muted in their response to his actions, three women – Phyllis Fong, Judge Loren AliKhan, and Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde — have been audacious in their visible and vocal resistance.

Phyllis Fong

On Friday, January 24th, just four days after taking office, Trump fired seventeen Inspector Generals, the federal watchdogs over government agencies.  Among these was Phyllis Fong, the Inspector General of the US Department of Agriculture.  But Ms. Fong refused the firing, citing the position of the Council of the Inspectors General on Integrity and Efficiency that these firings “’did not comply with the requirements set out in law and therefore are ineffective at this time.’”[i]  Having served in the USDA for twenty-two years under four presidents, she returned defiantly to her office on Monday morning, only to be escorted out by federal security agents. 

Continue reading “Three Women by Beth Bartlett”

Preaching with a Predator in the First Pew by Angela Yarber

Seeing him in the first pew was distracting. Legs splayed in expert manspreading fashion, both arms draped unaware across either side of the backrest, belly protruding over a worn leather belt. He wasn’t a tall man, yet his sprawling body occupied nearly six feet of space. A slight smirk was always smeared across his lips and his eyes were fixed on me.

Preaching to a predator is never easy. So, while I could never imagine what it would be like to speak truth to power like Bishop Budde at the National Prayer Service, I’m confident that, like me, every clergywoman in America knows what it’s like for a pussy grabber to leer at you from the first pew. Even the finest vestments, highest clerical honors, and the divine herself cannot protect you from that.

Continue reading “Preaching with a Predator in the First Pew by Angela Yarber”