Women’s Spirituality – Page 11 – Feminism and Religion

The Eleusinian Mysteries: Alchemical Grain, Part I by Sally Mansfield Abbott

This post is dedicated to the memory of Mara Lynn Keller, who passed away on 12/23/23. Mara was an expert on the Eleusinian Mysteries, and much of this post is based on her scholarship. Mara was a life-long friend and ally of Carol Christ’s, going back to their days in the Ph.D. program at Yale. She co-founded the Women’s Spirituality program at the California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS) with Eleanor Gadon (The Once and Future Goddess). Mara was an unusually warm, welcoming, and generous presence, and must have been a fabulous teacher.

The Eleusinian Mystery Rites were practiced in Athens and Eleusis from 1450 BCE to 329 CE, a period of almost 2,000 years, before they were expressly forbidden by the newly Christian Roman Empire, and years later the temple was destroyed. The Rites had originated on Crete, and continued to be practiced in Knossos and in the caves there for many centuries. It is likely no coincidence that the origin of the Mysteries in Eleusis in 1450 BCE is the same date as the fall of Knossos.

New Beginnings: Sedum tells a Story by Sara Wright

Almost two weeks ago my beloved Vet retired from the Bethel Animal Hospital. He will continue his healing acupuncture practice elsewhere part-time, but he will no longer be at the clinic. For regular acupuncture and all serious issues with my two dogs (one has been seriously ill for the last few years) he will work in conjunction with a new vet who I have yet to meet.

He has assured me that I will like Shelby, the woman he has chosen for us. I do trust his judgement.

I desperately wanted Gary to retire for health reasons last fall and spoke to him about it. We have been very close friends for many years, and it had become obvious to me that it was time. His wife felt the same way. He made the final decision to retire in November. My personal sense of loss was hidden under the shadow of my deep concern for him.

In Our Right Minds: On the Sacred Feminine, the Right Brain and Restoring Humanity’s Natural Balance by Dale Allen

TODAY • BOOK LAUNCH ON AMAZON! Launch Discounts underway now!

There’s something about a book. I make a lot of things: podcasts, videos, a film, a musical production, paintings, lots of articles for publications, but this… this feels huge to me. A book. A book that represents 25 years of my life as a spokesperson and champion of the feminine side of humanity – a part of all us.

Here’s the official Press Release:

Veteran of corporate and commercial communications, host, interviewer, and filmmaker Dale Allen has now released her new book, In Our Right Minds. This new book is an in-depth exploration of the sacred feminine and its power to heal humanity as a whole. Sharing her profound journey of exploring the goddess archetype, the author combines science, art, and history for a transcendent literary journey.

Miriam Speaks by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

Intro: I have been working on a project inspired by Charlene Spretnak and her book Lost Goddesses of Early Greece. I am writing biblical stories through the eyes and words of the women. The scribes who wrote down the tales of the bible, wrote mostly from men’s point of view. And they had their own which was to destroy evidence of the Goddesses. I tell Noah’s story through Naamah, his wife. Abram and Sarai’s journey to Egypt through the eyes of Sarah. Exodus in Miriam’s voice. In my telling, Miriam went to Midian with Moses and, while there, experienced the Burning Bush and worked with Moses’ wife Zipporah to protect knowledge of the Goddesses. Below is an abridged version of this section of Miriam’s tale.

I look around at your world today. You, yes you, are my descendants. My beloveds. I mourn for what you’ve lost. No, I am angry, how could things have gotten this bad? I dare you, I dare any of you to challenge my work. We did everything we could. It should not have taken this long to find our clues. But then I see the job the scribes did. It was better and more thorough than even we, who saw so much, could have imagined. I look around at this precious earth we bequeathed to you and see how damaged it is.

The Mothers, the Goddess, Lost and Found, part 2 by Elizabeth Cunningham

Excerpts in two parts adapted from My Life as a Prayer: A Multifaith Memoir. Part 1 appeared yesterday. You can read it here.

The Goddess finds me

Between the birth of my son and the birth of my daughter, I had a second miscarriage. The signs that something was wrong were subtle at first. I drove myself to a doctor’s appointment, hoping to be reassured that everything was all right (though I already sensed it wasn’t). En route to the office, perhaps to distract myself, I pondered why it was that I had never written about the church, or Christianity. Then…

I turn onto the main street. I glance at an old clock tower, and there she is superimposed against it, huge, big as the sky, vast as the earth.

I hear her voice.

“You have been searching for me all your life.”

She speaks inside me, all around me.

“The wild mother, the witch in the wood.” [She shows me the stories I’ve written.] “You have been searching for me all your life.”

The Mothers, the Goddess, Lost and Found, part 1 by Elizabeth Cunningham

Excerpts in two parts adapted from My Life as a Prayer: A Multifaith Memoir
(Note: Both excerpts have been edited for brevity)

The author’s mother as an architectural student.

The Mothers

When I was fourteen years old, I had a dream. I was pregnant and riding a donkey through a landscape, all golds and browns, hills crowned with ancient trees. I arrived at a monastery where monks with brown hands helped deliver my baby. From that time on, I longed to have a child.

My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage. I was devastated. Not only had I lost my longed-for baby, I had always taken my body for granted. Despite illnesses and injuries, I had assumed my will and my body’s health and strength were one. Now I knew in my own flesh that I was not in control; doing all the right things (thinking all the right thoughts) could not save me from sorrow. I sat in my own small version of Job’s ash heap.

Mothering, Society, and The Goddess by Jennifer Eva Pillau

In what I believe was an attempt by my daughter to ease my “mother guilt” for the ways I felt I had let my kids down, she once told me that “the world’s problems can’t be attributed to crappy mothering.” While I appreciated her apparent effort to soothe my inner turmoiI, I can make a solid case that to a significant degree, they can be. In fact, the most critical issues we face in the modern world have everything to do with the fact that our social, economic, and cultural structures are materially thwarting, rather than effectively supporting and nurturing, the human animal – our entire species – and particularly children, in our efforts to survive and thrive.

It is true that mothers are not to blame for all of the ills of the world (though popular psychology can certainly make us feel as if everything is our fault). Nonetheless, in real and profoundly palpable ways, there are aspects of the human condition that are not receiving the attention, tenderness, and nourishment that we know very well – both by instinct and science – are crucial for physical, emotional, and spiritual resilience. Predictably, the Earth Herself is suffering in much the same way.

Embodying bell hooks’ theological vision by Liz Cooledge Jenkins

I was recently asked: Who is a theologian you admire? Since I’ve been deeply steeped in the Christian tradition, plenty of Christian theologians could come to mind—Christian theologians, that is, in the sense of humans educated in the Christian theological academy with the theology PhDs to prove it.

But when I think of theology, these days, I find myself thinking more broadly. Like Kat Armas, who wrote Abuelita Faith as a way of reflecting on and honoring the theological contributions of marginalized women, rather than men who sit in the seats of academic power—and like Sarah Bessey, who writes that theology, at its best, is a field where “everyone gets to play”^[1]—I am skeptical of the assumptions Christians often make about who is or isn’t a theologian. And so, when I thought of theologians I look to for wisdom, I thought outside the box. I thought of writer and activist bell hooks.

Let Your Voice Be Heard • Let Your Heart Be Inspired! by Dale Allen

I was honored to be a part of a special project for the Parliament of the World’s Religions Women’s Task Force: conducting interviews inside the first-ever Women’s Village in Chicago at the Parliament Convening. I had been on a team of women led by Sande Hart with Pat Fero. We met online over the course of nearly a year to plan the Women’s Village. It was a very special endeavor, and our group efforts produced a beautiful, calming, nurturing, sacred and inspiring space.

The McCormick Center is America’s largest convention center, and yet we were able to create serenity. The tapestries of Women’s Woven Voices provided a colorful and meaningful enclosure for our space. A fountain cascaded a peaceful hum. Majestic staffs created by Erin Beatty stood as sentries; keepers of ancient feminine power. A great Mother Tree crafted by Elisa Guyton and Leah Myers spread her paper branches outward and received the written prayers and blessing posted there by attendees. The crown-making table was always busy with women talking and crafting exquisite headpieces. The Red Tent room was a tranquil place of mediation, rest, and a variety of spirit-nourishing workshops and presentations.

The Great Mother Tree crafted by Elisa Guyton and Leah Myers, close up with written prayers and blessings.

Three Women Sit on a Stone: Images of Fate in a Jewish Incantation by Jill Hammer

Tapestry, three fates, 16th century Netherlands

There is an old Yiddish incantation, documented from the 18^th century forward, that features three mysterious women. It is a folk spell warding off the evil eye–the negative influence that may come either from demons or from the jealousy and spite of others (or both). Fear of the evil eye is the reason it was traditional not to compliment cute babies or talented people—because the evil eye might be attracted to such beauty or talent and cause harm. The evil eye, to give a personal example, is the reason my father, who was normally not a religious person, refused to allow my mother to shop for a crib until I was born, lest the evil eye notice they were going to have a baby and prepare some terrible fate for me.