Women’s Voices – Page 23 – Feminism and Religion

The Impresa of Great Mystery by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

The Fibonacci series has been called the fingerprint of god. That is because they are a sequence of numbers found ubiquitously in nature. I’ve been thinking up new names for it. It is a progression created by adding each number to its previous number after starting with the number one. It looks like this:

1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55 and so on to infinity.

The Fibonacci Sequence was first described in the 12^th century by Leonardo Pisano Bigollo, an Italian mathematician. His nickname was Fibonacci, which translates to “son of Bonacci.” He has been called the Leonardo of Pisa, the city of his birth. The series is unique. When you take the ratio of any two successive numbers in the series (after the three), the resultant numbers have a pattern. They fall into an increasingly narrow range with the sequence revolving around a ratio called the Golden Mean, the golden ratio, or the golden number. It is 1.618. Below is an example of how the number sequence works:

5 / 3 = 1.666
8 / 5 = 1.600
13 / 8 = 1.625
21 / 13 = 1.615
34 / 21 = 1.619
55 / 34 = 1.617

Why I Wrote Queering the American Dream by Rev. Dr. Angela Yarber

Like most authors, I had grand plans for Queering the American Dream. Heeding the wisdom of the venerable black, queer writer, Pauli Murray—“One person plus one typewriter constitutes a movement”—I committed, not simply to writing and publishing a book, but creating a movement. With my modern-day typewriter (laptop) in hand, I dreamed of readers throwing off the shackles of an ill-suited dream, galvanizing retreats, coaching to help other marginalized creatives queer their own iterations of the so-called American dream.

I tried learning about book marketing and pitching companion essays and creating a launch team and all those things small-time authors without expensive publicists on retainer do. I tried so hard.

Processing my experiences of patriarchy has changed my faith for the better by Liz Cooledge Jenkins

As my first book, Nice Churchy Patriarchy, approaches six months of being out there in the world, I find myself reflecting on the journey. The process of unpacking all the ways patriarchy shows up in faith communities—and, in particular, the ways patriarchy has impacted my experience of church—has been a long one, and a winding one. It is no easy path.

How could a person travel this road and have their faith remain unscathed? Or perhaps a better question is this: How could one’s faith remain unchanged? And is this even a desirable goal?

After spending eleven years in “complementarian” (that is, explicitly patriarchal) evangelical church spaces and then two years in evangelical spaces that were egalitarian in theory but still had a long way to go to reach full gender equity—and, especially, after spending four years intentionally reflecting on these experiences and writing about them—I certainly see questions about gender roles and women in leadership differently. But it’s not only that. I see everything differently.

A Feminist Reading of Saint Wilgefortis by Sofia Meskhidze

The legend of Saint Wilgefortis tells the story of a Christian woman who was martyred for her faith. While there are numerous women martyrs in the Christian tradition, Wilgefortis is distinguished by her gender non-conformity. She is often referred to as female Christ^[1] and is almost always depicted with a beard, in a dress, and nailed to a cross. According to the legend, she was a Christian princess from Portugal whose father had promised her to the pagan king of Sicily. Wilgefortis, refusing to marry, prayed all night for God to make her unmarriable and as a result miraculously grew a beard, causing her father’s rage, after which he had her tortured and crucified^[2]. The origin of the legend is thought to be the Volto Santo sculpture in Lucca, Italy, one of the most well-known examples of a clothed crucifix^[3]. Misinterpretation or not, it is without doubt that the legend spread wide and Wilgefortis was in medieval times venerated almost as much as the Virgin Mary. In fact, this popularity displeased the Catholic Church, who actively discouraged it and even removed Wilgefortis from the official list of saints in 1969^[4]. Here I argue for the importance of Wilgefortis to feminist theology, feminist and queer Christians, and her potential as a non-binary/gender non-conforming icon.

Rhiannon as Midlife Queen Mother by Kelle BanDea

We tend to think of Rhiannon as the fairy maiden on the white horse who entices Pwyll, the King and her future husband, into the Otherworld. Or she is the young mother who is unfairly blamed for the death of her own child until he is restored to her. This is Rhiannon’s story as it is most well-known, and she has become a beloved figure due to it. The image of the beautiful fairy woman on the white horse has become equated, to modern neopagan folks and Goddess-women, with the ancient Celtic and Indo-European horse goddesses. Of all the women in the medieval Welsh lore that we know as the four story ‘branches’ of the Mabinogi, Rhiannon is perhaps the most beloved.

But this is only half of the story.

FRANCESCA CACCINI (1587-1646): THE FIRST WOMAN TO COMPOSE AN OPERA by Maria Dintino

Moderator’s Note: We are pleased to announce that we are forming a 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 January 19, 2024. You can see more of their posts here.

The featured image above is from the 2018 performance of Caccini’s *La Liberazioine* at the Morgan Library & Museum’s Gilder Lehrman Hall in New York City. Photo credit goes to Vincent Tullo of the New York Times.

I’ve always been an insomniac and of late I’ve become a regular listener of the app Calm’s sleep stories. One night I listened to an enchanting story called Songbird, written by Eurydice Da Silva and narrated by May Charters. Songbird is about Francesca Caccini, who is said to be the first woman to compose an opera, a musical genius and wonder. The next morning, I set out to learn more about her.

Time to Heal the Ancestral Wounds From the Burning Times by Marilyn Nyborg

My work has been in the areas of social justice and the empowerment of women. Until somewhere in 1990, I saw a series of films from women in Canada on the Early Modern European Witchcraft trials which included “The Burning Times”. (Still available on You Tube.) The film talked about three centuries of Witch burnings. The narration and graphics really shocked me and awakened an interest. Intuitively I recognized the way in which women have embedded the limitations and pain of that era from centuries ago. I now know it to be called ancestral wounding.

Not to say the abuse of women began there. It didn’t. But the intensity of three centuries of extreme violence on women have impacted us and cultures through time: sowing the limitations and lack of respect for women into cultures globally.

What an Outdoor Movie Taught me about Biblical Women By Alicia Jo Rabins

Once I went to a free outdoor movie in Miami Beach. The film was projected on the side of the giant concert hall. There was a grassy park with palm trees stretching out from the wall; families brought picnic dinners and cans of beer and stretched out to watch the movie once the sky darkened.

The movie was Star Wars, but as Princess Leah appeared, I was thinking about a different mythic canon. For over twenty years I’ve been studying and teaching stories of Biblical women from a feminist Jewish perspective, and after all this time, I was surprised to find that the way I feel while interacting with these stories was oddly, powerfully similar to the feeling of watching Star Wars projected on the side of a building on this Miami night.

Human Being or Human Doing? by Mary Gelfand

As a cis white woman in her mid-70s, with a family history of arthritis, I am sometimes confronted by various challenging questions that I prefer not to explore. Who am I if I can’t take care of my basic physical needs? Do I have value if I can’t do my fair share of the household tasks? Who am I if I can’t contribute to my communities? Who am I if I can’t ‘do’? Can I learn to just ‘be’?

These questions swirling around in my head are indicative of the fact that, despite my best efforts, I am still shedding the ubiquitous patriarchal conditioning that tells me I have no value or worth unless I can do—something. Traditionally that something was bearing and raising children, cooking and cleaning house, making and mending clothing, growing food. I have long felt that I must ‘do’ in order to earn my right to inhabit this planet. Patriarchy tells me I am only valued to the extent I am productive. As my body ages, being productive becomes harder. Many women struggle with these questions daily, especially older women like myself. And no doubt some men as well.

From the Archives: Writing: Changing the World and Ourselves. By Ivy Helman

This was originally posted on October 12, 2014

I still remember the first time I read Mary Daly’s Gyn/Ecology. It awoke something within me. Her use of language, the power of her writing and the ease with which she created new words taught me so much about the world around me and about the way the language, and subsequently its use in writing, shapes lives, choices, abilities and destinies. She also taught me about myself.

I was hooked, but not just on Mary Daly. Shortly after I finished her book, I moved onto other feminists writing about religion like Katie Cannon, Judith Plaskow, Alice Walker, Carol Christ, Rita Gross, Gloria Anzaldua, Audre Lorde, Adrienne Rich, Margaret Farley and Starhawk to name just a few. All of them, in fact every feminist I’ve ever read, has shown me the way in which words have power and how words speak truth to power. Ever since, I’ve wanted to be the kind of writer whose words carry a power that not only affects people but also inspires a more just, more equal, more compassionate and more humane world. In other words, I wanted to be a writer activist.