Women’s Power – Feminism and Religion

SheSpeaks! Women of the Bible Have Their Say by Janet Rudolph

Author’s Note: I have been working on this project for about 3 years now. It is based on almost 30 years of research. I have written about some of the vignettes here on FAR before. With each re-telling and each performance the story deepens and comes more alive. On Thursday, Sept. 24th at 11:00 am NY time, the SheSpeaks!Ensemble will be doing a one hour live/zoom, free performance of the arc called EveSpeaks! You can access the zoom link on the 24th through this webpage. (Scroll to the bottom of the page for the link.)

The storyteller holds great power to both reflect the culture and to give it further shape and form. This is especially true for stories of the Bible which are foundational to our world. Whether we see them as mythological, historical, divinely inspired, wisdom teachings or simple folktales, they have shaped our beliefs and values. People see all different faces of God. If we look to the movies, God has looked like George Burns (Oh God, 1977), a vengeful John Huston (The Bible, 1966), Morgan Freeman (Bruce Almighty, 2003) and even Groucho Marks (Skidoo, 1968). There aren’t a lot of women although Alanis Morrisette did play a silent God (Dogma, 1999). If most people were asked to describe God, they would most likely picture a Charlton Heston-like figure (The Ten Commandments, 1956) when he played Moses reflecting the vehemence of God’s anger.

But . . . alas . . .biblical women’s history is most like Alanis – mute. Women’s voices have been diminished and even silenced. Female deities, female voices have either been translated out of reach or turned into purveyors of “evil” or curses.

Are We Talking About the Same Mary? by Dr. Christena Cleveland

Though we often assume that Christianity was introduced to Africans after colonial enslavement, groundbreaking work by historians such as David Daniels unveils the truth that many African communities practiced a version of Christianity while still living on their ancestral lands Prior to the transatlantic slave trade, the Portuguese established Catholicism in the Kongo, and many Kongolese made magic by integrating the most life-giving aspects of Catholicism with their Indigenous spiritualities. Specifically, many Kongolese Catholics nurtured a deep devotion to the Virgin Mary, elevating her beyond her diminished status as an unassuming and relatively powerless “servant of God” to co-chief of Christ and a goddess in her own right. Despite the patriarchal teachings of the Catholic Church, the Kongolese drew upon an Indigenous cosmology that affirmed the divine power of women and embraced the Virgin Mary as an emboldened Christ figure who possessed all the powers and grace that Jesus and the Father possessed. They implicitly understood what Black Madonna devotee Mirabai Starr would teach over 250 years later: She is “. . . the quintessential Mother, the feminine face of the Holy One, fierce protector and gentle consoler . . . She refuses to be defined as the passive, obedient handmaid of the Father. She is the radical, powerful, engaged Mother of the World.”

Maiden, Mother, Crone: The Anthology by Madeleine White

Introduction: When I last wrote for Feminism and Religion, I shared some of the experiences that led me to write Maiden Mother Crone, a memoir in verse exploring trauma, motherhood, addiction, recovery, hope and the search for more inclusive forms of spiritual expression.

That personal journey has now opened into a wider conversation.

Maiden Mother Crone: The Anthology, published by Sea Crow Press and co-edited by me and Sea Crow Press founder and publisher Mary Petiet, is the third and culminating volume in my Crossing Places series. Drawn from around 150 submissions and developed through workshops in the UK and internationally, it brings together poets from across cultures, generations and geographies to explore body, memory, land, love, loss, motherhood, daughterhood, ageing, renewal, courage and hope.

While responding to Mary’s questions about the anthology, I found myself returning to Bosorka, a statue I encountered recently in Bratislava. Created in memory of the women and men persecuted and killed after being accused of witchcraft, she seemed to embody many of the questions at the heart of the collection: whose voices are heard, whose experiences are mistrusted or erased, and how poetry and storytelling can help us remember, bear witness and create connection.

Toni Cade Bambara: How to Care for Oneself While Healing The All (American Woman Writer 1939-1995), part 2 by Theresa Dintino

Part 1 was posted yesterday

The mud mothers, ancestors, began to make themselves visible to her when she was a girl, in the movie theater, on one of the walls in a cave like indentation, “with enormous teeth painting themselves with long hair brushes, painting pictures on the walls of the cave”( SE 254), at church, and in her attic. “In the attic they came in the mirror once. Ten or more women with mud hair, storing yams in gourds and pebbles in cracked calabash. And tucking babies in hairy hides. They came like a Polaroid. Stepping out of the mouth of the cave, they tried to climb out of the speckled glass, talk to her, tell her what must be done all over again, all over again, all over again. But she hung an old velvet drape over the mirror and smothered them. They were not going to run her off her own place, Not the attic “(SE 255). In church and at the theater she avoided looking at them.

For Velma and for Bambara, it is the spiritual roots of her ancestors and ancestry from Africa that come calling, the mud mothers. In Velma’s town there are mentors and guides and Aunties and godmothers, all levels of support and care available in claiming her gifts that Velma has left behind, rejected. Yet, when the book ends she will return to this, she has agreed to take up the mantle in order to be well.

For African Americans in particular, Bambara believes reconnecting with the ancestors—the ancestors that their ancestors were taken from— is part of the healing wanting to happen. That this was left out of the civil rights movement. That honoring ancestors is part of this lineage and that the ancestors are there and waiting. That slavery often disrupted this connection but it is there, the ancestors are there, for the reconnection if one is willing.

Toni Cade Bambara: How to Care for Oneself While Healing The All (American Woman Writer 1939-1995), part 1 by Theresa Dintino

Moderator’s Note: This piece is in 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 August 11th, 2020. You can see more of their posts here.

While reading adrienne maree brown’s Pleasure Activism for #NastyWomenWriters, I was stopped in my tracks by the praise coming forward in that book for black feminist, writer, activist, film maker and mentor Toni Cade Bambara (1939-1995).

brown writes:

“Toni Cade Bambara, author of The Salt Eaters, the one to tell us writing was a tool for the revolution, that our task was to make revolution irresistible. Bambara is a main stream in the lineage of pleasure activism, not just because of what she put on the page and into words, but also because of the ways she wove community, the way she supported other writers and organizers, the way she engaged in healing work” (45).

In the chapter “The Sweetness of Salt,” author and activist Alexis Pauline Gumbs, archivist and scholar of Bambara’s work, writes about five women who have been instrumental in her life and work: “scholar Farah Jasmine Griffin, filmmaker and activist Aishah Shahidah Simmons, artist and abolitionist Kai Lumumba Barrow, healer and organizer Cara Page, and editor and intellectual activist Cheryll Y. Greene”(46), who were all personally influenced, mentored, “sistered” and “mothered” by Bambara. It was these women’s recounting of their experiences with Bambara that caused me to go find her for myself.

Um, You Were So Happy by Vibha Shetiya

“We were so happy,” he said, emphasizing the so.

Her thoughts flashed back to that car ride. Hearing that an acquaintance was taking the GRE, she had half-jokingly quipped – “Maybe I should too.” He responded: “You should. You don’t know anything about life. Your life consists of your parents and brother and a handful of friends. It’s time you learned what it really was about,” this time stressing the really. The next few months were spent prepping for entrance exams and sending out grad school applications. Within six months, she was in the US of A.

She couldn’t believe it. She had been trapped for nearly two decades. As a child, she had had no choice. As an adult, it was too late; the indoctrination of being in a family cult had left her completely alienated; she was a stranger to herself. Marriage took on another dimension. Any chance of deprogramming was replaced by degrading, the methods remaining the same though; browbeating and gaslighting as a time-tested and guaranteed method of emotional torment never disappointed.

Maryam Rajavi by Yalda Roshan

My name is Yalda. I am a woman from the Iranian resistance who, for many years, has fought for women’s equality and worked to amplify the voices of Iranian women around the world. Today, I want to share with you the source of inspiration and motivation that has guided my path.

Covering every aspect of Maryam Rajavi’s life and thought in one article is a challenge, so today I will focus only on what has personally influenced me: her perspective on women.

She herself is a woman who has spent decades fighting against two dictatorships—the Shah’s and the misogynistic clerical regime—and believes that women can change the world. A brief overview of her biography: she was born on December 4, 1953, in Tehran and is a metallurgical engineer from Sharif University of Technology in Tehran. From her teenage years, she embarked on the path of struggle, learning from action rather than words.

Standing On the Edge: Flipping the Goddess Community & Bringing Her Back by Caryn MacGrandle

As the creator of the divine feminine app, an online platform to find circles, events and resources to which an average of three women a day have found their way to for the past decade, I have been privy to quite a few opinions.

A large majority of the 12,000 women who have registered on the app are Circle hosts, course creators, retreat organizers, book authors, singers, product sellers and others that ‘She’ has tapped on the shoulder.

And I hear quite a lot.

‘Be careful about her.’ ‘Do you know what she did?’ ‘I would watch your back.’

‘Why do you have her work on your app?’

Knitting Resistance: Part Two, by Beth Bartlett

Part 1 was posted yesterday

*The Dinner Party* by Judy Chicago: Donald Woodman, Wikimedia Commons

Knitting and other forms of needlework made a resurgence when Second Wave feminism reclaimed traditional “women’s work” as a form of feminist expression, promoting crafting as a tool of feminist empowerment. The most prominent example of this was Judy Chicago’s 1979 The Dinner Party that celebrated prominent female historical and mythical figures. A massive artwork, it consists of 539 quilted triangle pieces from all over the world, embroidered place banners, and ceramic plates arranged on a large triangular table.

Women form the vast majority of those engaged in knitting resistance,[i] and beyond the reclamation of women’s domestic arts, craftivism provides women a voice that is often usurped and talked over in masculine political spaces. As one of the participants in a resistance knitting circle that was studied by feminist scholars stated, “’Because politics is still very sexist and configured for men . . . I think women don’t get very far . . . I think craftivism is . . . something that’s accessible to women . . . and is an alternative form of expression.”[ii]

Visibility Matters: Where are the Women? by Maria Dintino

Moderator’s Note: This piece is in 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 March 4, 2025. You can see more of their posts here.

Out of forty monuments along the National Mall in Washington, DC, none celebrate women and their contribution to American history.

One of our NWW [Nasty Women Writers] categories is Breaking the Bronze Ceiling where we track the effort to increase the number of monuments dedicated to real women in public spaces.

I’ve made many trips to Washington, DC, trekking the National Mall specifically to visit monuments. Why didn’t I notice women were missing? Am I so conditioned to not seeing women recognized and honored at the highest levels that I don’t even expect it or question their absence?

I felt ignorant and complicit.

It’s 2025 and there is not a single monument to honor women on our National Mall, a place that “draws roughly 36 million visitors a year, more than Yosemite, Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon combined”(Schuessler).

It’s absurd and sadly, speaks volumes.