Feminism and Religion

DO RELIGIONS HAVE AN “ESSENTIAL” “CENTRAL” CORE THAT IS–OR IS NOT–SEXIST? by Carol P. Christ

Though often asked, this is the wrong question. Every statement about the “essential” or “central” teaching of any religion is based on a prior interpretation rooted in a particular standpoint. Thus, the idea that there is a “central” or “essential” core in any religion is not a matter of fact, but rather a matter of interpretation.

In discussions of religions, we often make global statements about our own and other religious traditions, such as: “Christianity is patriarchal to its core,” or alternatively, “The core teaching of Christianity is to love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself.” Or: “The true Islam teaches that God is love,” or alternatively, “Islam always teaches the subordination of women.”

These sorts of claims are made from time to time here on Feminism and Religion too. Every global statement that a particular religion “is” or “ is not” oppressive, calls someone to assert the opposite in the comments. I believe that statements about the “true” nature of any religion should should always be qualified. Continue reading “DO RELIGIONS HAVE AN “ESSENTIAL” “CENTRAL” CORE THAT IS–OR IS NOT–SEXIST? by Carol P. Christ”

Thoughts on Race and Being Jewish by Ivy Helman

When studying the Shoah, it is extremely important for teachers to introduce students to the 1800s concept of race “science,” which is what I have been doing in my classes over the past few weeks. An American and European development, this “science” was deeply connected to the development of racism. Through a “scientific” method, humans were classified based on certain characteristics (i.e. head size, posture, gait, etc.) and traits (i.e. aggression, passivity, even temperament, etc.). Physicality was linked to personalities that were “typical” as well as desirable or undesirable.

Race “science” supported the slave trade, colonialism and the exhibition and exotification of non-European peoples. In the case of the Shoah, race “science” was heavily relied upon by the Nazi Regime in their propaganda, law and ideology. For the Nazis and all nations under their purview, “Jewish” was a racial identity, “scientifically-proven” through measurements and observations and set out by the Nuremberg Laws of 1935, previous and subsequent anti-Semitic decrees and the systematically-planned extermination of 6 million of us.

Continue reading “Thoughts on Race and Being Jewish by Ivy Helman”

Lighting Our Candles, We Dance into the Dark by Laura Shannon

Laura Shannon Here in the northern hemisphere, these weeks between Samhain and the winter solstice bring us into the darkest time of the year. In my dance circles, this is my favourite time for candle dances, whose gentle light guides us when we cannot clearly see, while the support of the circle gives us courage to step into the unknown.

Dancing with candles is like travelling through time. For thousands of years, dancing in the dark – at night, or deep in caves – took place by the light of the moon or the flame. The beauty of candle dancing is that the darkness is still present; we do not need to disparage it, dispel it, flee it or fight it. This marriage of light and dark comes across in this lovely photo from a recent candle dance at Findhorn. Continue reading “Lighting Our Candles, We Dance into the Dark by Laura Shannon”

‘Imagine’ by Jassy Watson

At my first international retreat on Lesvos, Greece, women gathered with me from around the globe in the village of Molyvos to connect with their authentic creative spirit and bring their Mediterranean Muse to life on canvas. With permission from our wonderful Greek hosts, we built a Cretan style labyrinth in their olive grove, which we walked and danced daily as a metaphor for our journey within accessing our authentic creative voice. We painted, laughed, danced, swam, feasted, cooked, explored, sang, and dreamed. It was such a truly wonderful time.

I wanted to bring this program to Greece in part because of Carol Christ, who has called Lesvos home for over twenty years. In 2012, I participated in her ‘Goddess Pilgrimage to Crete’. To date, it’s one of the most transformational, life-affirming experiences of my life. I harvested so much creative inspiration and motivation from Greek village life, connecting to Goddess in this ancient landscape. I knew it was the perfect setting to gather women for an inspired creative retreat of my own. Carol took the time to come speak with our group, telling us about how she came to call Lesvos home. She spoke beautifully on Sappho, reading us some of her poetry. It was an honour to have her join us.

The simple, resourceful, sustainable way of traditional Greek village life and the generous nature of the Greek people is a humbling experience. On Lesvos, many people in the villages grow much of their own food, eating seasonally. In fact, food grows wild everywhere; wild thyme, oregano, dill, fennel, walnuts, figs, greens and much more. There are few large chain supermarkets. Trucks laden with fresh produce and fish make their way around the villages announcing their wares through a loudspeaker and the crowd gathers to shop.

There are over eleven million olive trees on Lesvos. Even the smallest plots of land often have them. Some villages own their own olive oil co-op. Cheese is usually homemade. Many people keep sheep and goats and the process has remained virtually unchanged since ancient times. Beehives are commonplace for honey and pollination, as too are grapes. Homemade wine is routine in many a household. Usually more than one job is held to make ends meet, many often supplementing their income through small-scale agriculture. One might be a café owner, a sheep farmer, olive grower and a fisherperson. Many traditional trades such as stone masonry and shoemaking are also still well and truly alive.

Life is not necessarily easy, but it is so much more sustainable, resourceful, and rich in tradition; offering a deeper connection to the land, food sources, community and family than we have in the modern Western world. We live in a disposable society based on convenience. It never ceases to amaze me to think that only a few decades ago, most households in Australia had a veggie plot, chickens, a rainwater tank and access to small family-owned corner shops for other necessities. Now that’s a rarity. It’s imperative for the sustainability of the planet to return to a grass-roots, village-based way of life. Greek village life inspires me and reminds me to hold tightly to these values.

Continue reading “‘Imagine’ by Jassy Watson”

The Mother of Socrates: Priestess, Pharmacist, Obstetrician by Stuart Dean

Because the dates for the life of Socrates are certain, it is safe to conclude his mother, Phaenarete, was born about 500 BCE. She seems to have lived well past menopause and thus was certainly alive to see the start of construction of the Parthenon (447 BCE) and probably its completion (432 BCE). As was traditional for many Greek mothers, after menopause she became a priestess, pharmacist and obstetrician.

The relevance of the chronology for Phaenarete requires some context to appreciate. Writing had yet to be widely adopted during her life (the alphabet was not standardized until about 400 BCE). Literary evidence in particular for the practice of medicine before and during her life is scarce. Although Hippocrates was a contemporary of her son, nothing survives of medical writings from antiquity that can confidently be attributed to him. Parmenides and Empedocles (contemporaries of Phaenarete) appear to have been medical practitioners, but what survives of their poetry relates to nature philosophy in general and only in places to medical theory.

Hence, it is extraordinary that an account of Phaenarete’s medical practice survives in Plato’s dialogue, Theaetetus, 149a-150a (hereafter “PMP”). Though PMP was composed by Plato in the 300s BCE, he emphasizes it is based on a transcript of an actual conversation from the late 400s BCE. PMP records what Socrates said about his own mother. It is as authoritative a source of information about her as it is about the origins of the sine qua non of medical practice: optimizing human reproduction.

While evidence exists for women healers in many ancient cultures, the specifics PMP provides show postmenopausal mothers were especially important to early Greek medicine. Curiously, there was no word for ‘menopause’ itself, a fact that suggests it was thought of more in metaphysical than physical terms. Evidence indicates it was thought of as a type of ‘virginity’ (parthenia), the metaphysical meaning of which can be detected in its association with goddesses such as Artemis and Athena (cf. ‘Parthenon’ for her temple’s name). It marked the completion of the ‘internship’ of motherhood, the prerequisite to graduate to become a priestess of Artemis. The name of Socrates’s mother, Phaenarete, evinces that religious context: it essentially means “Revelator.” The Greek for “obstetrician,” maia, also evinces that context: it was also the name of a goddess. The status such a word then connoted is lost in translating it, as many do, as ‘midwife.’ Continue reading “The Mother of Socrates: Priestess, Pharmacist, Obstetrician by Stuart Dean”

Make-up the Most of Your Moustache by Natalie Weaver

Natalie Weaver edited My girlfriend Heidi has a great sense of style. It is theatrical, creative, and always original. I met Heidi when I was eight years old and have had a chance to observe her personal developments and self-presentations grow and change over three decades. Our friendship has always included a strong element of the silly mixed in with the beautiful. We would dress up for high school dances together in classic regalia as easily as we would put floral shower caps and boldly colored wigs on our heads to entertain ourselves as we walked around our neighborhood. Now, Heidi works as an artist model in one of the most theatrically dressed cities in America, becoming the basis for the first city-commissioned sculpture (Kim Bernadas’s Terpsichore) in New Orleans after Katrina. She is slender, tall, and striking with platinum hair and large dark eyes framed by long, elegant lashes, and often adds to her already statuesque appearance by wearing heels and hats. Heidi, moreover, creates hats in her avocational role as a milliner. It is, in short, always a striking surprise when Heidi walks in the door.

Over the weekend, Heidi and I had an opportunity to go to the opera together. Playful as always, Heidi showed up for the event in elegant tuxedo-inspired couture, complete with a handcrafted fascinator and (drum role) a very finely, penciled in moustache. She looked truly stunning, and we enjoyed the night together as a lovely couple. We laughed over the moustache, but more or less would have forgotten about it were it not for the looks people gave us. Some were genuinely appreciative, others merely curious, and yet others, specifically random men, had the great audacity to say something to her, like, “you have a moustache.” It was sufficient to inspire Heidi to try it again the following day as we popped in and out of shops and restaurants on the street, and sure enough, some guys felt obligated to tell her about face.

What does this mean, I have been wondering, and why have I been so unsettled by the commentary she and I have received? On one level, I have been aware that we may be perceived as a same-sex couple. This phenomenon I have been aware of since we were children. Close female friends, who laugh together and sometimes link arms when walking, especially in the USA, seem automatically to evoke in the public imagination a suspicion of lesbianism. I found the suggestions in high school puerile and irritating, but now I find them imposing and reflective of a deep intolerance of inter-women’s shared energy and joy. But, to be fair, Heidi was wearing a fine, little moustache, which, if nothing else, did broadcast androgyny in Heidi if not couple-hood between us. And, yet, here’s were my radar pings even louder. Why not androgyny? What was it to the passers-by and would-be commentators if we were a couple, or if Heidi always blurred gender presentations in her dress?

I have found myself more and more perplexed that any random man (and we only received male feedback) feels entitled to advise openly a strange woman (or, for that matter, a known one, or even more, anyone at all) on how s/he should look. One stranger man at a bar, who was openly critical of her style and verbal about it, even dared ask me why I was so charmed by my friend. When I ignored him altogether, he patronized me with, “Are you ok?” like a date fishing from his girlfriend for an explanation about her sudden moodiness.

Continue reading “Make-up the Most of Your Moustache by Natalie Weaver”

“Cocks Not Glocks:” Protesting and the Phallus by Sara Frykenberg

In the past month, Feminism and Religion has posted important pieces regarding the serious debate in the United States over gun control in the wake of mass shootings at our schools, including “Its Okay to Kill Each Other,” by Kate Brunner, and “It’s Mom’s Fault,” by Esther Nelson. Both of these authors give powerful insights into this discussion, pointing to the humanity (or inhumanity) involved, and challenging assumptions/ attitudes underlining this debate and corresponding inaction.

Preparing for motherhood these past nine months, a state of being that both authors also discuss when considering the larger issue of gun control, I have found myself hoping for hope—looking for something positive: progressive action in this sea of violence and inaction. I wanted to share one of my discoveries in light of this national (and international) discussion of gun control, something that gave me hope, a protest that made me smile even when given such great cause to despair.

#CocksNotGlocks is a demonstration organized by former University of Texas (UT) student Jessica Jin, to protest concealed carry legislation that would allow students to carry guns on campus, specifically, “into classrooms, dormitories and other buildings at public and private universities.” Continue reading ““Cocks Not Glocks:” Protesting and the Phallus by Sara Frykenberg”

CROSSING THE SEA OF DEATH by Carol P. Christ

I am washing wet clothes cast off by refugees who crossed the Sea of Death, the new name for the channel only 4 nautical miles wide that separates Turkey and Lesbos. A tiny pink long-sleeved shirt with a boat neck, for a girl, size 3 months. The channel was relatively safe in the spring and summer, even though people were pushed into black rubber dinghies wearing illegal life jackets that would not float. A pair of leggings with feet, grey with pink, orange, brown, white, and blue polka-dots, to be worn over diapers. North winds have made the journey treacherous.

I am not on the front lines, pulling wet children alive and dead from the sea. I think my heart would break. Tiny black stretch pants with nylon sequined bows at the knees, size 2 years. My friends were in the harbor when an overcrowded fishing boat collapsed, throwing 300 people into the sea. Two pairs of children’s underpants, one navy blue, the other turquoise. They pulled babies from the waves and tried to revive them. Small stone-washed blue jeans decorated with rhinestones, for a little girl. They were wet and cold. Their clothing was removed. They were wrapped in blankets. Red knitted leggings with black hearts and white reindeer. Some survived after spitting out the sea’s water. Blue leggings with feet, blue with white and beige stripes, for a boy. The newly donated ambulances do not carry oxygen. Continue reading “CROSSING THE SEA OF DEATH by Carol P. Christ”

All Saints Day and All Souls Day by Barbara Ardinger

In the Roman Catholic calendar, today is All Saints Day, tomorrow, All Souls Day. The following slightly edited paragraphs are from my book Pagan Every Day (RedWheel/Weiser, 2006), which is obviously not just about Pagan topics. (I couldn’t find goddesses for every day of the year, so I widened my view.)

November 1: All Saints Day

All Saints Day

During the persecutions of Diocletian (245–313), the number of martyrs became so great that separate days could not be assigned to honor them. They were given common memorial days. All Saints’ Day, the Catholic Encyclopedia informs us, was instituted in the fourth century when dioceses began to divide up and exchange the relics of martyr-saints. At first, only martyrs and St. John the Baptist were recognized, but in 609 Pope Boniface IV consecrated the Pantheon to the Blessed Virgin and all martyr-saints. The vigil for All Saints’ is Hallows Eve, which was also first celebrated in the fourth century. By the 13th century, All Saints’ Day was solemnly celebrated to honor “all saints known and unknown” and to remedy any deficiencies by the faithful in remembering the saints on their proper days. In other words, it became a sacerdotal catch-up day. If a saint was neglected on his assigned day, he could be honored today.