What I am reading and writing: PART II

January 2020

Same study group, all ages welcome; however, most of us have graying hair as well as lively curiosity and diverse faith heritages. 

We are now tackling Dorothee Soelle’s seminal book The Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance. Dorothee, who died in 2003, was a German feminist liberation theologian. She believed theology must speak for the oppressed, not only the privileged. 

I was enthralled when I read the Introduction and Chapter 1: We are all mystics. Chapter 2: Ecstasy slowed me down to a crawl. This book could be required reading in a seminary course although its meatiness encourages me to reflect on my own mystical moments and awarenesses. 

I am learning, the history of mysticism as it stands over against the traditional, patriarchal, limiting teachings and liturgies of religious institutions. As I listen to the group’s conversations, I jot down my mystical moments and awarenesses, surprised how many come to mind. Rather than thinking how great these remembrances are, I am wondering how each has impacted my life and the contours of my faith.  

Rather than doing crossword puzzles to keep my mind active and supple, I climb the steep stairs to my nest under the eaves and write. Remembering and reflecting is a sacred experience which takes time and effort…and I am easily distracted. I turn on the computer, I am pulled into emails, news and weather, or other Internet magnets. When I begin the hard work of writing, I am pushed to focus sharply as I seek words to express my understanding of my experiences and faith. 

Biblical Stories of Women: Death-dealing or Life-giving?

Justice is what love looks like in public. ~~Cornel West

PART 1
These next blogs are about justice, what love looks like in public, and the “last” taboo: daring to question the patriarchal, traditional, white Western male interpretation of Biblical stories. Daring to propose that God imaged as a man and addressed with male language is unjust. Daring to say that I long to hear my woman name spoken in liturgies and raised up in Bible studies. Daring to proclaim the abuse of women in Biblical stories. Daring to suggest that male-centered language and liturgies are driving people from churches and synagogues. Daring to recommend that we begin to read Biblical stories of women—and of men, once we have considered the stories of women—through a hermeneutic (interpretation) of suspicion, wondering who benefits from the way the stories are written and interpreted and lived out in the world.
In this series, I will begin each blog by challenging you to reflect on two questions. I encourage you to jot down your thoughts before continuing to read the blog. I hope you will discover that your thoughts add to my reflection. I have led studies on many of these stories with over 500 people. Each time there have been fresh insights. Please add your final reflections in the comment area of the blog so that we can enrich our collective knowledge.

Let’s begin with the first two questions.
1. What is your response to what you have read above?
2. When did you recognize male privilege in your life?

The way women and girls are represented and spoken about by the world’s religions has a profound impact on women’s and girls’ sense of their bodies/themselves. Because Western society has been permeated by a patriarchal and male-centered Jewish and Christian ethic, Biblical images of women are ingrained into the collective unconscious in ways often destructive to women’s sense of themselves. In addition, with rare exceptions, Christian and Jewish teaching, preaching, liturgies and theologies continue to image God as male. As a result, women are faced with the ultimate stained-glass ceiling: God is pictured and referred to as a man. The implicit message is that women’s bodies and beings are less acceptable than men’s. The impact of the Godhead depicted as a man has distorted women’s images of themselves, body, mind and spirit. The reverse is also true. Men have a distorted view of their superiority, lording over others being a birth right as well as often burdened by not measuring up to this God-standard.
Christian, Jewish and Muslim teachings and doctrines (as well as those of other faith expressions) that devalue, degrade and dismiss women have resulted in spiritual as well as psychological stress and trauma for millennium. To challenge the pervasiveness of this connection, it is as vital to raise up empowering and life-giving Biblical images of women as it is to proclaim dis-empowering and traumatizing aspects of the Biblical stories of women. Naming narratives which have oppressed women can release blocked energy. Re-imagining narratives which have the power to liberate women can become the creative and redemptive use of that freed energy.

To take your thinking a step further, I encourage you to write down your responses to these questions:
1. What are you thinking after reading the above?
2. What have you learned?
3. What life giving action might you take in response?
These questions will be asked at the conclusion of each part of this series. Thank you.

POPE FRANCIS: Moving the conversation and questions forward

During his visit to the United States, Pope Francis’ gentle and compassionate presence was authoritative without a punishing edge; he called us to take responsibility for the problems facing us as human beings. Specifically Francis challenged people to intentionally address our responsibility for climate change, for the oppressed living in poverty, and for displaced refugees.

My response to his call is to push the conversation forward by raising underlying questions about the foundational images of the world’s major religions which stand in the way of each of these challenges being addressed fully. Considering these questions might deepen our responses to the Pope’s challenges.

How does naming God almost exclusively as male, and imaging “Him” as omniscient (all knowing), omnipotent (all powerful/almighty), and omnipresent (always present) contribute to the problems of climate change, poverty, refugees and religious fundamentalism? How is man’s (literally) treatment of the earth–often called Mother Earth and associated with the fecundity of the female–interwoven with the treatment of women as secondary citizens in most of the world? How does Christianity along with other faith expressions perpetuate this treatment of the Earth and of the oppressed peoples of the Earth by focusing on achieving eternal life in Heaven rather than on the quality of life on Earth? How has the image of a punishing Father God led to the subjugation of some people, particularly of women and their children, by men whose power over others has been sanctioned by male-dominated faith communities?

These are complex questions which lead on to further questions. My desire is to explore these questions and raise new ones in conversation with your responses.

I invite you to begin by pondering Mary Daly’s 1973 proclamation, “If God is male, then male is God.” As you consider her statement, I would like to slow down the discussion by inviting you to read my understanding of several Biblical stories of women in an eight-part occasional series “Biblical Stories of Women: Death dealing or Life Giving?” The original article upon which this series will expand appears under the tab DARING Faith.

The Blue Seaglass

A True Story of MORE

Nancy’s mother lay dying in a nursing home. Years of mental and physical anguish, enduring life in the shadow of her domineering husband, had drained her belief that life has meaning. Despite having witnessed and endured her mother’s suffering and now her desolation, Nancy’s faith remained strong. When her mother questioned, Nancy replied, “You can lean on me now; I have enough faith for both of us.”

One day after her mother had come back from the edge between life and death, Nancy reached out further, saying, “Mother, there has to be more than this or nothing would make sense. I want to make a covenant with you. I want us to promise that whoever dies first will do everything possible to let the other know if there is More.” Her mother laughed, “Anyway I can, I will.”

Weeks later Nancy’s mother died. After the immediate relief Nancy felt empty, then angry. Several months later, now in despair, having had no sense of there being More after death, Nancy was walking on Duxbury Beach, that five mile spit of land jutting out into the Atlantic just north of Plymouth, Massachusetts. Meaning had dissipated. All she believed amounted to nothing; what she had put her trust in was not there.

Sobbing, she stopped walking, raised her arms toward the sky, fiercely yelling, “God, you’re a phony; it’s all fake! Mother, if there is More, you have to tell me NOW!” Nancy looked down. Through the blur of her tears, a bit of blue sea glass partially buried in the sand caught her eye. Sea glass, once sharp and dangerous, now tumbled and softened by waves and sand, cobalt blue a rare find. As she picked it up and brushed the sand away, Nancy felt smooth, slightly curved glass the size of a communion wafer. Running her fingers over the smoothed glass, she detected embossed letters near one edge. Wiping away her tears, she slowly made out the letters M-O-R-E, then, in an instant, the word: MORE.

Immediate disbelief and harder sobbing. “It can’t be!” Then awe and gratitude.

Nancy did not put this blue sea glass in a frame or safe deposit box. She tells the story to anyone who will listen and shares the sea glass with people who are dying. Eventually she had it mounted in soft silver on a thick chain making it easier to hold or wear.