Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts

Friday, September 6, 2013

These Women Preach: On Jesus Feminist and Pastrix

by Charity Erickson

I first encountered Sarah Bessey during a pregnancy scare in 2011, when she was still Emerging Mummy and I was on a Google bender. It turned out that I was not with-child, but rather with-paranoia (ladies—you know); nevertheless, my discovery of Sarah Bessey was a date with destiny. She introduced me to the Christian interwebs: Rachel Held Evans (who had just called Mark Driscoll a bully,) Christianity Today and Her.meneutics. It took a year for me to get on Twitter and experience the full glut of Christian internet content, but for that year, it was just Bessey and a few special others.

All that to say, Sarah Bessey’s Jesus Feminist: An Invitation to Revisit the Bible’s View of Women (Howard Books, releasing November 5, 2013) holds a special place in my heart, and I am excited for those who will discover Bessey’s distinctive voice in this important work.

I will admit, I was expecting Jesus Feminist to have more of an emphasis on feminist critique, but as I got more into the book I realized that such an approach would not be “Sarah Bessey.” Just as with her oft-imitated blogging style, her work in Jesus Feminist shines most when she is telling stories and issuing rally cries. Bessey is a lover of poetry and it shows in her creative word-coinage and interesting-noun-play-with-use-of-complex-hyphenates.

The third chapter is where things really pick up, when we learn that Bessey discovered feminism not in critical theory or a social movement, but in early experiences with a church where women’s leadership was highly valued. In later chapters she expounds a feminism that is rooted in kingdom theology, God’s love of justice, and the movement of the Holy Spirit. She doesn’t need theory to prove her point; her stories testify to the value of women’s service and leadership in the Church.

The chapters that do contain more scholarly analysis are interesting, but are not her strongest points; Bessey relies heavily on sources her readership may already know very well (i.e. Rachel Held Evans) and as a result, her distinctive voice gets a bit lost. But when she enters her métier, calling the Church to a better way—climaxing with the “Commissioning” chapter to end the book—her prose-y poetics explode into full-on prophecy.

Bessey characterizes her work “to build a prophetic outpost for the Kingdom’s way of womanhood” as “small ops,” but she is being self-deprecating. Jesus Feminist is on the vanguard of feminist apologetics in the evangelical world, and this initial charge manages to be both challenging and guided by Christ-like humility. Those who most need this book are the same ones who will find it most accessible, as Bessey’s voice is attuned to the needs and language of her evangelical and mainly female audience—though dudes with poetic souls will find much to like here, too.

Nadia Bolz-Weber’s Pastrix: the Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner and Saint (Jericho Books, releasing September 10, 2013) serves as an interesting counter-point to Jesus Feminist. Pastrix is as straight-forward in its language as Jesus Feminist is lyrical. Bolz-Weber’s use of scene, dialogue, narration and straight-up sermonizing is masterful—and I’m sure, much harder than she makes it look. Here we have another author whose sharp, engaging voice has won her many fans—her voice, and her commitment to the Gospel. It surprised me to discover the strongest connection between these two works on the fringe of the Christian culture is that they are both unabashedly focused on the saving message of Jesus Christ. No embarrassment, no mincing of words. These are women who preach.

I can’t really say enough good things about Pastrix. I picked up a copy at Wild Goose and despite the fact that it got soaking wet (yes, I’m harping on that again), I couldn’t stop peeling back page after soggy page. On the way home I had the opportunity to chat up my heroes—Krista Tippett and the On Being crew, with whom I shared a long layover and flight back to Minnesota—but I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just wanted to stay buried in what were by that point dry, curled pages, my copy already showing signs of being well-loved.

The concept behind Pastrix is pretty simple—hard-living former fundie finds sobriety, God, and a call to ministry. Bolz-Weber tells her story, touching on themes of addiction, death, and failure—but always bringing the reader to a place of hope, even “defiant hope.” She speaks from a pastor’s heart, crafting her work for the sake of our ultimate edification, but dang it if she doesn’t just make it fun.

My only criticism—and I don’t know if this is a true criticism at all—was that I was left at the end wanting more. More stories, more creativity, more cranky insight from someone who we might lovingly call a curmudgeon-at-heart. Could we perhaps look forward to a Pastrix II: The Reckoning of the White Collar? I hope so. In any case, Pastrix comes out this week. You need to get it.

One final reason why you should check out both Pastrix and Jesus Feminist: They exemplify so much of what is going on in the world of young Christian culture. These authors defy any attempt at categorization. They do not toe party lines. They are inspired by a variety of Christian traditions and don’t see a problem with taking the best from new things they find. These books represent a moment in history when Christians who used to strictly adhere to denominational identities are busting out and finding exciting, confusing, and promising possibilities for their faith. And as my call for sequels suggests, I’m already excited to see what might come next.

Charity Erickson and her husband live and work together in the north woods of Minnesota. Check out her blog for more of her writing and follow her on Twitter @CharityJill.


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Monday, August 5, 2013

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 34 - On Women in Ministry w/ Jen Thweatt-Bates

by Ben Howard

This week on the show Ben sits down with Jen Thweatt-Bates, theologian and moderator of Gal328.org, an organization working for gender equality in Churches of Christ. Ben and Jen talk about their shared Christian upbringings and breakdown the interpretive steps used to restrict the role of women in the church. In additIon, they talk about different ways of overcoming these restrictions and hopeful steps for the future. Finally, they'll discuss Jen's book "Cyborg Selves: A Theological Anthropology of the Posthuman" as well as her run-in with Michelle Williams and Heath Ledger once upon a time.

Follow Jen on Twitter @gal328CofC and check out the Gal328 website. Also, check out her book Cyborg Selves on Amazon or at a library near you.

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you download the show through iTunes, please be so kind as to rate and review us. We want your feedback and it helps the show to grow.

Also, remember to "Like" On Pop Theology on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology for all the updates, posts, and links throughout the week.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here: 


Peace,
Ben

If you have any questions, comments, or if you just want to say hi, you can contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

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Wednesday, March 13, 2013

On Christian Superstitions



black cat, superstition
by George Elerick

A black cat. Friday the 13th. A cracked mirror. Locking your door numerous times. Tying your shoes incessantly. Eating your foods in a certain order. The number 23. A rabbit’s foot. Our culture is riddled with superstition. But what is it? Why is it important? And is the church perpetuating it?

Dating back to the 14th century, the term superstition is defined early as an "excessive fear of the gods." Remember, an excess is something outside or beyond the normative experience of reality. It exceeds something. And the fear itself is the anxiety of not knowing whether we can control fate, to bring about our desires. 

In ancient times, superstitious practices served to appease or persuade the gods, attempting to 'control' them, to coerce them to: bring rain, heal someone from the brink of death, sustain crop growth, win wars against other tribes, and so on. It was a method of trying to manage the fear, to achieve what was desired by means of a specified act (i.e., murdering a virgin, offering the first crop, etc.). 

Superstitions are practiced in an attempt to control fate; to achieve the object of our desire, or to protect us from the frightening prospect of a world that is eminently dangerous.

In the movie 'As Good As It Gets' with Jack Nicholson and Helen Hunt, Nicholson plays a man suffering from severe OCD. He has to avoid cracks on the sidewalk; he has to lock his doors a certain number of times before he is able to feel safe.  

This last part is key; it gives us a window into his obsessive neurosis. The object of his desire (i.e., safety from a dangerous world) is not focused on the specific door, the locks, or even the idea that this single door provides some barrier between himself and the world, but rather, all these things represent something much more important. They are imbued with power; they are symbolically something more than the object itself. The door is not just a door; it is a DOOR. All doors, taken together, represent the desire for safety from a perversely septic world.  

These actions, which are self-imposed rules, force the person to then view these rules as 'other'; they must make these rules sacred in order to justify them and their relationship to them. These self-created rules become superstitions, imbued with a great power, justified by an interior logic: "It is not that I wish to avoid the crack in the sidewalk; rather I MUST. If I don't, then I might be injured; it might bring bad luck; it might cause others harm." 

Jack Nicholson, As Good As It Gets, OCDNotice the theme here: Safety. This person thinks the world is an inherently dangerous place to be. His self-imposed superstition grants protection from what he fears; it helps him achieve his desire for safety.

Has not the role of the pope become a form of religious superstition? In the modern era, its functional significance is anachronistic. It’s noteworthy that while the Vatican currently sits without a physical pope, socially speaking the papacy hasn’t been this empty for years. It suggests that in the current arc of history, society is beginning to question its own superstitious upbringing. For one man to be the mediator for billions of other humans not only seems like an eccentric role, but also one that relies upon suspending belief in one's self-worth. 

When people fetishize other humans (another example would be when people become obsessed with actors/actresses) they ultimately negate their own inclusion (and experience) in the narrative of life. Their life is simply a translation through the gaze of another.  

When superstitions become self-justifying, they demand allegiance and observance, and ultimately remove any space for actually experiencing anything beyond the superstition itself (i.e., reality). They require people to create a world where their fears and desires control them; desires and fears which are dealt with only in temporary fashion, and only by people offering themselves to a reflexive ethic of being (i.e. the way one walks, talks, one’s verbal responses to specific events, one’s physical actions required after certain situations, etc.). 

This is one reason why Freud addressed religion as a superstition. To achieve its ends, it required a sacrifice: the very essence of the person committing to it.

And is not this the current state of the Christian church? I use church in the institutional sense. The implications here are various, but for quite some time, one such superstition that has continued to rear its head involves the exclusion of women from leadership. 

Okay, let's stop here for a second. What's the implication when we must create rules (i.e., superstitious ethics & behaviours) around half of the human species? Is it not that they in some sense do not naturally embody humanity as fully as men do, that they must somehow earn that humanity? In this light, the superstition supersedes the ontology of ‘woman’, so much so that it is not necessary that ‘woman’ even exist because the superstition has taken her place. In this regard, superstitions are quite evil, a parasite needing a host. Here, it’s an archaic host that now must seriously be dealt a tragic blow: patriarchy. Patriarchy demands a sacrifice; in this case, the opposite gender.

worship, sacrifice, hands raisedWhen viewed in these terms, is not sin itself a form of superstition? The idea that either some or all of humanity is inherently flawed and so, to deal with this flaw, we need a sacrifice to appease the 'gods' - is this not an excess fear of the gods? And is not the earliest conception of worship a part of this same practice, a form of superstitious disavowal of self? 

Let me explain. Worship is undertaken with the hope to make god feel good about herself, or to recognize who god is and who we are, or to pay homage to the person of god or (well, the list goes on). But what are the implications? Certainly, one is that God needs it, that God demands it, that God can't exist without it. And in a very perverse sense, some use this idea to coerce God; they use the promise of worship as a bargaining chip to entice God to give them what they want.

Ultimately, superstitions are beliefs we act out; we rely on them out of fear of disintegration. We create rules and actions that we imbue with significance, with holiness, with power. We cordon off reality (which we cannot control) by circumscribing it with superstition (which we can). We think that living through these constructs will save us from the danger of having to engage what we really want.  

In this light then, people need the Pope because they are afraid to meet with God. People need to see the black cat because if they don’t, they will have no reason for why things went bad. Superstitions are the hope that we can make sense of how things work. 

Yet, Jesus offers something different: Spirit and Truth. In Hebrew, these terms speak of the essence of a person - not objects or rituals outside of us. They speak of a person living out of the very center of their being - not through external objects or practices. Jesus says this is possible. And I think we find just such a person waiting for us beyond the pornography (excess of reality) of our superstitions.

George Elerick is an author, speaker and activist living in London. He is the author of Jesus Bootlegged and a regular contributor to the Huffington Post. You can find him on Twitter @atravelersnote or read more of his work at his personal blog The Love Revolution.

You can also follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.