Women’s Voices – Page 15 – Feminism and Religion

How the Nineteenth-Century Spiritualist Movement Gave Voice to American Women -Part 2 by Theresa Dintino

Moderator’s Note: This post is presented as part of FAR’s 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. Part 1 was posted yesterday

Spiritualism began with two young girls, the Fox sisters, hearing knocking sounds in their home near Rochester, N.Y . They determined the knocking to be coming from a man who was murdered and buried under their home. The knocking was soon categorized into an alphabet out of which seances began. In seances groups of people gathered and put their hands on a table while asking questions of ancestors who made themselves known by rapping and knocking in response. Next, mediums in the form of young women speaking the answers of the dead as the bereaved asked them questions, emerged. Instructions were disseminated on how to be a medium and how to run a seance. The movement took off.

The movement was largely white, northern Protestants but other ethnicities were involved. The Black population may have influenced the arising of these practices with traditions brought with them from West Africa.

How the Nineteenth-Century Spiritualist Movement Gave Voice to American Women -Part One by Theresa Dintino

Throughout history women have found power and position in spiritual communities. They have acted as leaders, priestesses, oracles, mediums, disciples, saints, preachers and more. And yet these roles and positions of power are often overlooked in the story of women, and the general story of humans.

Still today many women function as leaders in a variety of spiritual disciplines, yet they do not receive the attention, respect and clout that men in similar positions do. More often women who hold roles of power in spiritual communities are dismissed or discredited.

If their spiritual community is not considered a formally accepted religion where their position was bestowed to them by a man ranking above them, women spiritual leaders are often ignored. This marginalization goes unquestioned.

Healing What Ails Us and Coming Together: Politics and Other Forbidden Subjects by Caryn MacGrandle

I met my best friend growing up in Third Grade. I moved around the country after high school, but regardless, her and I have managed to stay in touch. I spoke with her last weekend and asked about her parents. Even though its been years since I’ve seen them, I remember them as if it were yesterday. Going out to their cabin at Lake Texoma. Seeing them around the house.

You see Kim and I were tight. We saw each other pretty much daily for years. In some ways it was a much more innocent time. I remember summers leaving the house in the morning and not going back until sunset, muddy and barefoot. Crawdads and horse models. Playgrounds and baseball games.

But in some ways, it was a much less innocent time. We dabbled in quite a lot that we should not have as the term helicopter parent was unheard of. Our skies were wide open. The good and the bad. The large majority of us were latch key kids, and we raised ourselves. No apps to tell our parents where we were or check in. We went as the wind blew us.

In My End: My Beginning by Margot Van Sluytman

In my end is my beginning.
T. S. Eliot

This year two colleagues of mine died. And my heart roared. Tears aplenty accompanied me. Poet that I am. Word-lover. Image-seeker. Meaning-making-hound-dog. Doggedly seeking a place to plant myself so that the ache of these losses within the crucible in which I find myself grounded, honed, chiselled, challenged, challenging, writing, wording, rewording, sculpting relationship with my students, who are too my teachers, is soothed. By tiny shards. Soothed. And death finds home everywhere. In each nook. Cranny. Crevice. Concreted crenellation or grassy llano, there she be.

What research, I ask myself, can we do when the heart fails to cease its eking, leaking ache, and crushing sorrow? What academic skill need we birth, resurrect, divine in order to erase this over-whelming tsunami of acknowledging our finitude? Where to look? What book? What paper? What journal? To what podcast need we creep, crawl, scurry, bound, fling ourselves in order to quell brutal, blistering despair? Self-immolation cannot work, for too, too many teeming tears douse the flames.

To Childless Cat Ladies by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

I feel you. In a patriarchy where women’s reproductive abilities determine our worth, to be childless is a curse. We can thank VP candidate JD Vance for revealing this truth in all its ugly fullness. He is a walking billboard for patriarchy. Bottom line: Patriarchy is all about women’s bodies, our reproductive abilities and men’s desire to control them. We saw this in the Dobbs decision where it was declared that women have no constitutional right to the basics of healthcare, in Texas where it’s pretty much illegal to have a poor pregnancy outcome, and in Ohio where raped children are expected to give birth to their abuser’s child. Its endless

But it is JD who made it plainer than plain what this is all about. Besides childless cat ladies being an old trope, just think of the judgement involved. Who is JD to decide on anyone’s family constellation? Or their pets? He also made disparaging remarks about the “childless left,” who have no “physical commitment to the future of this country.” That is a statement that only a person who totally lacks empathy can make. He is making a sweeping generalization that people without children don’t care about the future. This statement is more confession than truth. He reveals that until he had children, he had no care about the future of our world. It’s beyond egocentric. If only his kids are the center of his “caring,” that shuts out most of the world’s other children.

The Case for Women’s Visionary Films by Freia Serafina

Power in the woods.
Creation of artist Jym Davis.

As a film history professor, I am intimately aware that women’s representation on screen is historically lacking. While preparing to teach a new course, I found myself hard-pressed to uncover significant academic discourse that highlights the divine feminine that doesn’t solely live in the realm of a Christian worldview. Indeed, film scholar Tenzen Eaghll points out that much of the existing scholarship from the past 100 years “all tend to equate religion with Christian theology in some manner, and … focus[es] narrowly upon Christian themes such as Jesus, salvation, faith, etc.” He states that scholars of religion and film essentialize all religion as Christianity, and that many scholars of cinema additionally speak of religion as an all-encompassing umbrella organization giving us a condensed notion of a shared theological worldview, devoid of nuance and alternate meaning. Eaghll goes on to argue, as I do, for a more critical approach to the study of film that requires us to pay closer attention to how “representations of religion in film conceal issues of race, class, gender, colonialism, secularism, and capitalism – common themes in ideological critique – as well as notions of origin, authenticity, narrative, violence, and identity.” I believe the solution lays in the inclusion of women’s visionary films.

A House for the Goddess by Annelinde Metzner

For the past few years I’ve been contributing to FAR as a poet. So grateful for the opportunity to connect with you wise women! This month I realize I should share with you another side of me, my music.

On June 8th, I produced, directed and composed the music for “A House for the Goddess” in Asheville, North Carolina, featuring 29 performers including two sopranos, a cellist, myself and another pianist, two dancers, an MC and a women’s choir. The concert, whose venue was offered generously by Land of the Sky United Church of Christ, was a sellout, and over three thousand dollars was raised for the Linda Norgrove Foundation for the women and children of Afghanistan (https://lindanorgrovefoundation.org.)

My compositions, both choral pieces and solo art songs, always find their birth through the inspiration of poetry. At this venue, the texts of the poetry were displayed on two screens overhead as the songs were sung.

Who Speaks Into Your Life by Michelle Bodle

An occupational hazard for a woman in a religious setting is having people try to claim authority to speak into my life that they simply do not have. Two recent examples were so blatant that they caused me to pause and reflect on the underlying dynamics that led to these unrealistic expectations.

In the first event, I was out with a friend for coffee, and someone from her congregation approached. They wanted to pray for an upcoming service, but then, during the prayer, he started to pray against the “confusion” at our table. His sudden praying against this “confusion” is notable in that it only arose after my colleague introduced me as the lead pastor at a church (not an associate) in a denomination where this particular gentleman’s church broke off. After the prayer ended, he tried to explain his “prophetic gift” and how he arrived at praying against any confusion, which was tied to his own confusion during the prayer. However, the truth was, there wasn’t any, and he thought he had authority, during prayer, to speak into my life in a way that he did not.

Queering the American Dream by Angela Yarber, Book Review by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

I love stories about journeys or pilgrimages. They are quests that take us out into the world even as we are forced to face our innermost selves. They are sure to be filled with adventure, challenges, and unexpected beauty. Such a journey has the ability to rip apart our world and reform it in new and unexpected ways. Like I said an adventure. Each journey not only affects us personally but changes corners of the world and all the people that it touches. Angela Yarber’s book is one such journey. Reading it changed my world.

Rev Ang traveled with what she calls her “queer little family;” herself, her wife Elizabeth and their toddler son Ru. They set off into the country where they could not take for granted they would be accepted. They knew they might be seen as other and have to face down hatred. It is a vulnerable place to be, and it can be frightening, especially in the backcountry where being queer can be seen as an invitation for violence. That takes even an extra level of courage.

Rev Ang speaks with an honesty that is remarkable.

Sojourner Truth, the photos by Beth Bartlett

Moderator’s Note: We inadvertently left out the photos from Beth’s posts on Sojourner Truth. The photos, all by themselves, pack an emotional punch and so we want to be sure they can be seen. These are Beth’s photos from Sojourner Truth Legacy Plaza in Akron, Ohio

You can see Beth’s posts here. Part 1 and Part 2