religion

Kelsy Burke is an assistant professor of sociology at St. Norbert College. Her first book is Christians Under Covers: Evangelicals and Sexual Pleasure on the Internet (forthcoming, University of California Press). 

The #DuggarScandal is rising once again to the top of media headlines as Jim Bob, the father of Josh who molested his sisters and other underage girls, explained away the incidents of sexual abuse in an interview with Fox News. “They didn’t even know he had done it,” he said about Josh “touching” his daughters after they were asleep.

CJ Pascoe and Sara Diefendorf explained earlier this week in another Girl w/ Pen post the rationale used by religious conservatives like the Duggars to make sense of sexual scandals. For these Christians, sexual sin is an expected and, as Jim Bob’s interview reveals, forgivable offense. Importantly, and outrageously, the sin of sexual abuse may be equivalent to the sin of consensual sex before marriage, pornography use, or masturbation. And while the liberal pundits may cry GOTCHA! in exposing the hypocrisy of fundamentalist families like the Duggars, their beliefs rely on a logic that does not see sexual sin as hypocritical, but rather as inevitable. All of us are sinners.

The long, long list of conservative Christian leaders caught in a sexual scandal is nearly all men (here is a story that details some recent examples). Not surprising, the critical-thinking feminist may observe, given that conservative Christian traditions believe in men’s headship and women’s submission. As one blogger described, the Quiverful movement of which the Duggars belong demands that women “never exercise a moment of sexual agency in her entire life.” Conservative Christian men may be hypocrites, but conservative Christian women are the victims or at least the dupes.

To be sure, the girls abused by Josh Duggar are victims of sexual assault. They did not choose it or deserve it. But let’s think for a moment, feminist readership, about the implication of the attitude that conservative Christian women have no agency or an ability to make choices on their own terms. (To be precise, the blog quoted above surmises that the Quiverful movement itself bars women’s agency, but even this isn’t an entirely fair assessment.) When feminist commentary on conservative religion deals almost exclusively with women’s victimization, we are left to believe that religious women indeed don’t have any agency. Is a feminist dismissal of conservative religious women actually endorsing the attitude of Jim Bob that these women don’t know any better?

What would happen if we acknowledged that women may make choices and feel empowered by them even if those choices seem to defy feminist logic? What would happen if we reimagined the plot lines in the typical feminist narrative of conservative Christianity? Instead of women as dupes or victims for believing in a patriarchal religion, how might these religions serve a purpose in these women’s lives?

Many scholarly accounts of conservative religious women suggest that they find some aspect of their religion to be empowering, all while believing they should submit to men. One of my favorite examples of this is a study of evangelical women who are married to “ex-gay” men (men who admit to, though do not necessarily act upon, same-sex attraction). Through interviews with these women, sociologist Michelle Wolkomir finds that they at first blame themselves for their inability to sexually entice their husbands. Yet Wolkomir finds that women overcome this guilt as they realize that their husbands are engaging in sin. This means that their wives are no longer obligated to submit to their husbands, but rather only to submit to God.

Evangelical women married to ex-gay men are certainly a small group, but the lesson here is far reaching: In patriarchal religions, God is the ultimate patriarch. Especially for religions in the Protestant tradition, women believe they connect directly with the final authority, the one who is In Charge. Converting to Christianity has the power to help women feel more, not less, in control of their lives: to have the strength to speak up to a cruel co-worker or to be optimistic about a recent divorce. Conservative Christianity may not change women’s life’s circumstances, but it can help women change their perception of those circumstances.

A common feminist mantra on the choices of other women, in the words of Amy Poehler in her book, Yes Please, is “Good for you, but not for me.” Yet feminists commenting on stories like the Josh Duggar scandal are quick to point to Christianity’s flaws, never its virtues for some of its followers. Women who are complicit in religions that appear to many feminists as anti-feminist seem to cross a line that has no defense. But why can’t feminists take up the attitude, “Good for you, but not for me.”? Of course there are obvious answers to this question: because these religions perpetuate ideas about gender and sexuality that harm us, especially women and queers. Gender-based violence, though, is a social problem that is not limited to fundamentalist Christianity. And don’t we live in a world where nearly all dominant ideas about gender and sexuality harm us? How can we defend Miley Cyrus and Kim Kardashian and nail art and not at least acknowledge that for some women, conservative religions are “good for you, but not for me.”? We may learn from these women that we all must make our own choices in a world that tries to limit them.

New controversy about free condoms inspires this month’s column, a critique about student health and public health by Chloe E. Bird, Ph.D., senior sociologist at the nonprofit, nonpartisan RAND Corporation and co-author of Gender and Health: The Effects of Constrained Choices and Social Policies (Cambridge University Press).

I dedicate this month’s column to parents who are in the midst of crises which are well-articulated on the website A Heartbreaking Choice:

Pregnancy does not end happily for everyone. Sadly, some parents receive grim prenatal news that something is seriously or fatally wrong with their loved and wanted unborn baby. They have to make a decision about continuing or ending pregnancy. We realize that all parents make a loving choice, one they feel is better for their baby. Regardless of the fetal anomaly found, the decision to end a pregnancy is always a difficult one.

Although it is estimated that between 80 and 95 percent of parents receiving a severe prenatal diagnosis choose to end the pregnancy, those who face this nightmare often feel alone. There is very little in the way of support programs for them. With this site and the dedication of courageous parents willing to reach out, we hope to create a safe haven of encouragement, validation, hope and healing.

How many of us have thought about all that is involved with therapeutic abortions?  Parents in these situations have to navigate a medical system which is under the influence of a legal system which (in my humble opinion) has succumbed to a failure of the separation between church and state. It saddens and infuriates me that these mothers — especially those in their third trimesters — may be denied access to medical options which could best protect their physical and mental health. In this day and age of U.S. abortion policies, should we be grateful that any states allow any options at all?  Gratefulness is hard to come by in the face of so much suffering.  My prayers and love go out to all parents who face these heartbreaking choices.

This month The Man Files welcomes Sam Bullock writing his first guest post for Girl With Pen. In this personal account, Sam explains what happened when his Mormon religion collided with feminist politics.

My professor assured us there was no reason to fear The F-Word.

I was taking Intro to Ethics at a community college where we were assigned to read An Invitation to Feminist Ethics by Hilde Lindemann. It was my first experience with feminist theory.

The book is a basic overview about sexism, gender roles, homophobia, neo-liberal globalization, and stories about gas lighting and rape. Unlike other books, I couldn’t dismiss this one as “just another philosophy.” I couldn’t toss this book aside as I went about my daily life. It was consciousness-raising. Life-changing.

From reading this book I realized I wanted the freedom to choose what made me happy. I didn’t want to be constrained by psychological factors that may have been the product of early—and intense—gender socialization. And I knew that women deserved the same freedom.

Unfortunately, these feminist arguments clashed with my worldview: I was raised Mormon. For Mormons, gender roles are divinely instituted (for the most part) and homosexuality is always a moral evil.

In the Mormon Church, only men are allowed to have the priesthood. Women are effectively barred from positions of authority. No women bishops, no women apostles, no women prophets. Women can fill positions of leadership that are in line with traditional gender roles like young-women leaders, children’s group leaders, and relief society leaders (an exclusively female group).

I was told that priesthood, the power to act in God’s name, depends on individual worthiness. Every man can have it. The traditional Mormon rejoinder to any sort of criticism of this unjust stratification is that “women can bear children.” So … women can’t become priests because babies gestate inside of them? This argument is sheer nonsense.

The sexism of the Mormon Church became more and more apparent. In one discussion about parenthood, I dared to suggest that I was willing to be a stay-at-home dad. I was instantly assaulted by thoroughly archaic views about women. I was told that women were more virtuous than men and this virtue would be lost in the cut-throat business world. Working women were destroying the fabric of society (I actually heard this more than once). Needless to say, I was horrified.

At a different meeting, the discussion topic was female modesty and appearance. The bishop leading the group suggested that women needed to dress modestly because men couldn’t control themselves—or something to that effect. Really? Huh.

The bishop continued, saying that women should wear make-up because even an old barn could use a paint-job. The huge double standard leaped out at me. Male “barns” were not expected to paint themselves, so why should female “barns?”

As the sexism became crystal-clear, I attempted to reconcile my two conflicting worldviews. I tried to rationalize away the sexism, making arguments like, “the Church isn’t ready for gender-equality yet“ or “this sexist doctrine is not of God.” I looked for support online and found it at various feminist Mormon blogs including Feminist Mormon Housewives and The Exponent.

Enter California’s Proposition 8. Here, the second of the big offenders came into focus: homosexuality. In the Mormon Church, homosexuality is a sin. One can be an openly gay, but must remain celibate or enter a heterosexual marriage. Neither is a particularly happy option.

When Proposition 8 (opposing gay marriage) was on the California ballot, Mormon Church leadership endorsed it, and encouraged members to aid in its passing. This led to call centers, special meetings, and Photoshopped pictures of Book of Mormon prophets holding “Yes on Prop 8” signs. Most disturbing was the rhetoric. We were told that homosexuals were like drug-users. Homosexuals were destroying society. They were corrupting our children, our freedom of religion, and our schools. Homosexual-equality was Satan’s idea, an attempt to lure people down the path of destruction.

I am ashamed to admit that in high school I believed this nonsense. I distinctly remember telling a friend that I voted for Bush because he was against gay-marriage. I even wrote a letter to Bush celebrating his wise choice.

But fast-forward and feminism allowed me to see the Church rhetoric for what it was: homophobic, fear-mongering attempts to maintain a cultural hegemony. I still rationalized away the homophobia as yet another doctrine “not of God.” That is, until I read about Stuart Matis, a gay Mormon who committed suicide because of homophobic Mormon doctrine.

I could see the suffering so clearly. I could no longer rationalize away the Church homophobia. A crack had formed in the edifice of my beliefs. Mormons were not inspired by God to pass Prop 8. There was no Satan, no tempter out there trying to trick me into believing evil things. This was merely the ultimate fear-mongering device, a tool designed to silence dissent.

Into this small crack rushed my entire philosophical training, all of my religion classes, my ethics classes, and my critical thinking classes. I no longer saw any reason to believe that Joseph Smith saw God when he founded the Mormon Church. I no longer believed that Jesus was the son of God, or that God even existed at all. My beliefs were gone. I was an Atheist.

I guess the message of this story is that feminism is undeniably powerful. It can alter consciousness. It can foster equality. It can even dismantle an entire worldview. And I would say these changes are for the better.

Sam Bullock aspires to be an attorney with hip jazz-piano chops, and is a self-proclaimed feminist atheist.

I am so pleased to bring another important and insightful post to Girl With Pen from our regular guest blogger, Shawna Kenney.

The world hears much about women in the Middle East from Western media. Most stories are told from a human rights perspective, about women; rarely do we hear from the subjects themselves. Yet there are fierce young women working from within media structures in countries not especially known for their equal rights policies. As a journalist and educator, I have been blessed to encounter many lately. These brief profiles-in-courage are just a sampling of the work being done behind cameras, within newsrooms, from boardrooms, and in day-to-day life.

Mai Yacoub Kaloti has been a reporter with Al–Quds newspaper for almost a year. The 25-year-old Palestinian says she chose her field “to open up minds and reveal the truth about what’s happening” in her part of the world. Kaloti chose the print journalism field despite her father’s wish for her to be an accountant. Now she proudly signs her “full name” to every story and says that he is just as proud of her bylines. When people tell her women shouldn’t work in war zones, she says it’s her job and that she intends to do it right. “Women in the Middle East are just like all women on earth: they deserve respect, love, and care. They work in different fields, defend their country with pen and weapon, raise children with a sense of responsibility and good manners.”

30-year old Mozn Hassan is the Founder and a member of the Board of Directors for Nazra for Feminist Studies in Cairo, Egypt. While most of her time is spent partnering with local and international organizations in promoting women’s rights, she also answers “nonstop questions from neighbors, colleagues and even the guard of [her] building” about why she is unmarried, why she travels abroad alone, and why she chooses to live in an apartment with her sister rather than her parents. “As an Egyptian feminist I see customs and culture here which govern the mentality of Egyptians. The hardest obstacle we face is that most Egyptian men are occupied by patriarchal ideas.” Still, she fights on. “I think this field is one of the most sensitive and important issues that must be tackled openly and critically in my country. The issues of women’s rights opens lots of discussion on all of society’s problems, and in my opinion it is impossible to reform our society without tackling gender issues.”

Muna Samawi is a 25-year-old Program Officer working for the Freedom House organization in Amman, Jordan. After earning a Bachelor’s degree at St. Lawrence University, Samawi dedicated herself to working in the field of human rights. “I was fortunate to live, study and work in a foreign country for 6 years where I was able to express myself without hesitation, and practice my freedom of expression.” She has since worked with at-risk youth and organized exchange programs focused on including journalists, lawyers, bloggers, and human right defenders from the Middle East. Her activism is not always encouraged. “Political and societal pressures are placed on any activity in the Middle East that is sponsored from foreign agencies, so some eyebrow raising occurs from time to time,” she shares. “As a young woman working in development, I do not always get the recognition or support needed, but my family’s support is sufficient to sustain and push my personal goals to higher levels.” She stresses that advocacy for women’s rights and feminism are “growing movements” in the Middle East—more than most people know.

Marianne Nagui Hanna is a producer at a large news support corporation in Egypt. The 29-year-old describes herself as a “news junkie” who works 14 hours a day in this field she loves. She says her work environment is multicultural and multinational, but that managers tend to assign field missions to men, and has been told “it wouldn’t be cost-effective sending one woman with a team of men, being that she’d need a room to herself instead of sharing.” She takes it in stride and says she wishes the world knew that women in the Middle East “can actually achieve things. We are not all backward housewives from the Middle Ages. We do live in the Middle East in very tough circumstances, in a culture that doesn’t hold much respect to women and considers them second-class citizens, yet we are able to successfully work and gain respect. We don’t ride camels, we don’t live in tents .. and for sure, the harem is no more.” In her bit of spare time, Hanna maintains her blog http://resstlesswaves.blogspot.com/

22-year Hana Al-Khamri is a Yemeni woman from Saudi Arabia living in Denmark to study journalism. Her passion has pushed her to study in another country, due to laws and social pressure. “It is illegal for women to study journalism,” she says of her choice to leave Saudi Arabia. “Second there is a huge social pressure to marry and quit working. Third, I often faced hostility (writing for the ‘women’s section’ of the paper there), especially from older conservative men. I have been refused entry to press conferences only because of my gender. Fourth, I am dependent on men for transportation since I am not allowed to drive a car. And finally, media in Saudi Arabia is under strict government control and censorship, and when you are as open-minded and openmouthed as I am, you are bound to get in trouble.” In her opinion, it is tradition, not religion, that oppresses women in the Middle East, and though her career choice is one not supported by her government, she calls her path in line with God’s will. “My faith is a liberator, not oppressor. I can change my community through my pen,” she says.

Shawna Kenney is an author, freelance journalist and creative writing instructor. Her essays appear in numerous anthologies while her articles and photography have been featured in the Florida Review, Juxtapoz, Swindle Magazine, Veg News, the Indy Star, Transworld Skateboarding, and Alternative Press, among others. She also serves as the Language Editor of Crossing Borders Magazine. You can read more about her work at http://shawnakenney.com/.

Kathryn Joyce is a journalist and author of the new release Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement (Beacon Press). A graduate of both Hampshire College and New York University, her freelance writing has appeared in Newsweek, The Nation, Mother Jones, and many other publications. Joyce recently spoke to Girl with Pen about her research experiences, intersectional conflicts within the Quiverfull movement, and the public’s response to her groundbreaking new work:

What experiences in your journalism career prompted a deeper exploration of the Quiverfull patriarchal movement?

I first came across the Quiverfull movement while researching the anti-contraception movement among pro-life pharmacists claiming “conscientious objections” to dispensing birth control. I had been unaware of anti-abortion claims that birth control functions as abortion, and hadn’t known that opposition to contraception had become an important issue among Protestants and evangelicals in addition to traditional opponents among Catholic and LDS churches. Looking into some of the groups that were supportive of the pharmacists’ movement, though, I came across a surprisingly well-organized coalition of evangelical anti-contraception groups, some of whom were arguing that Christians should leave their family size and spacing in the hands of God. As I began to read a number of books that shaped the community and conviction, particularly early movement texts like Mary Pride’s The Way Home: Beyond Feminism, Back to Reality, and Rick and Jan Hess’ Full Quiver: Family Planning and the Lordship of Christ, I began to see a vehement anti-feminism and another, startling motivation for large Christian families as well, as the Quiverfull authors told readers that by having very large families, and teaching their children to do the same, they could win the culture wars through numbers alone.

The oppositions between feminism and Quiverfull Christianity are rooted in the patriarchal traditions of this sect. In your research, did you find any subversive femininst actions taken by former or current Quiverfull followers?

Quiverfull is not a sect of Christianity, but a grassroots movement that spans numerous denominations and church traditions.

That said, there is certainly a feminist subversiveness among women who have left the movement, such as Cheryl Lindsey Seelhoff, Vyckie Garrison and Laura Sutton, as well as other evangelical women who did not follow the Quiverfull conviction but did faithfully believe in the patriarchy doctrines they were taught in their churches. A number of women taught to follow these beliefs have responded by either leaving the faith and conviction entirely, or by attempting to reshape the teachings to fight abuse. However, I think the common thread of all the women I’ve spoken to who contended with these issues is the overwhelming pressure against their leaving these communities, and the financial, emotional and spiritual obstacles they have to overcome in order to do so.

My working title for Quiverfull was “Trust and Obey,” the name of an 1800s Presbyterian hymn that is frequently referenced by Quiverfull supporters as the foundation for their role in life. It reads: “Trust and Obey, for there’s no other way/ to be happy in Jesus but to trust and obey.” The sentiment of the hymn really sums up the role of faith and obedience, or submission, in this movement—that, beyond the demographic dreams of leaders with a vision of thousands of Christian children taking over the country, this movement tells women they must have a faith strong enough to have children they may not necessarily be able to provide for, but to trust instead that God will take care of them if they are obedient to the authorities “he’s placed over them.” It’s a deceptively simple challenge to any woman who is having second thoughts about giving up so much self-determination.

How would you describe the demographics of the Quiverfull movement? In what ways are Quiverfull Christians defined by gender, race, class, and other forms of social and personal privilege?

Quiverfull is largely white, but not entirely so. There are families of color within the movement, as well as prominent biracial couples. I think there are racial undertones to a number of aspects of the movement, particularly its preoccupation with demography and population, and leaders utilizing falling fertility in European countries as a warning that countries that embrace family planning end up “invaded” by hordes of immigrants. Similarly, there are questionable ties between some movement leaders and far-right fringe groups that embrace neo-Confederate notions about slavery and race or immigration. Additionally, one movement author, Charles Provan, author of The Bible and Birth Control, was also notably a Holocaust revisionist. And a very popular author and women’s leader, Nancy Campbell, author of Be Fruitful and Multiply and publisher of the long-running Above Rubies magazine, frequently makes a pitch for large families in order to out-breed Muslims. I don’t think that all Quiverfull people are motivated by racist thinking whatsoever, or even that there’s more racism within the movement than in American culture at large, but I do think that there are troubling undertones to a lot of the messages that the leadership of the movement advances, and the way in which they seem to appeal to people’s racial or immigration fears or biases as a third motivation for having large families beyond obedience to God and the idea of Christian dominion through numbers.

In terms of gender, however, there is absolutely no pretense at equality between the sexes except, as many leaders are fond of repeating, equality under God. Men and women are equal in the eyes of God, they say, but have different roles here on earth. What that translates to in reality is a system of often strict male headship and female submissiveness, where Christian women are never supposed to be out from under the “protective covering” of a male authority any time in their life. Founders of the movement, including Mary Pride, made it clear that the ultimate target of the movement was feministic ideas of equality, and that in order to be good Christian wives, women had to subordinate themselves to their husbands as army privates submit to officers, so that a well-organized Christian army stands a better chance of winning. Other teachers of “biblical womanhood” – the total lifestyle patriarchy advocates promote as an antidote to feminism – include rising early to feed the family, being available anytime to satisfy a husband’s desires (barring a few “ungodly” or “homosexual” acts), seeking his approval regarding work, appearance, and leisure, and accepting that he has the “burden” of final say in arguments. After a wife has respectfully appealed her spouse’s decision — a privilege she should not abuse — she must accept his final answer as “God’s will for her at that time.”

How have the families you interviewed for this book responded to its publication?

I haven’t heard from all of the families I’ve spoken with. Those who have contacted me have generally found the book fair and respectful, although they of course disagree with the position I’m coming from. That’s been the reaction of a lot of reviewers, from Bitch magazine to Christianity Today. And I’ve heard from more women who have left Quiverfull or patriarchal churches, and they’ve remarked that they were surprised a secular outsider could understand the movement so well.

Although I haven’t heard from many critics yet, I think that one response that both I and exited Quiverfull women have heard a lot is that to have a negative experience of this lifestyle means that the woman or her family weren’t “doing it right,” or weren’t following the conviction with the right Christian spirit, but with a “legalistic” spirit concerned more with rules than with following Jesus. While I understand where this response comes from, I have to disagree. While apologists for Quiverfull or patriarchy teachings say that both can be wonderful things if practiced with the correct Christian heart and motivations – with an eye towards glorifying God, and not being mired in “legalistic” rules – in my observation, many, many women described beginning to follow the conviction out of a sense of faith, and very soon found that the lifestyle was one of hard and fast rules, and unforgiving standards that few women could keep up with.

Does the Quiverfull movement have a future? Do you feel that changes in American politics or the economy will impact the success of this growing movement?

I think of Quiverfull as a purist vanguard of the antiabortion and anti-contraception movements. I think there has certainly been a growth in the visibility of very large families following these convictions and lifestyles, but I don’t imagine that huge swaths of the country will begin having 18 children next year. Instead, however, I think they will continue to exist and grow as an ideal of the Christian right family: institutionalized already in the “Natural Family Manifesto” that’s promoted by the World Congress of Families: an interdenominational coalition of religious right groups that includes almost every major religious right political organization in the country. They explicitly endorse women having a “full quiver” of children, and have taken their message to Europe, where they tell countries with declining fertility to fight it (and immigration) by encouraging every woman to have 3-4 children each. Likewise, major denominations such as the Southern Baptist Convention, which has 16 million members, have begun making sympathetic statements in recent years (to complement their existing “complementarian” stance on wifely submission), saying that deliberate childlessness among Christians is moral rebellion against God. So I think they will have a trickle-down influence on religious right standards in that way, and will serve as inspiration to the anti-contraception groups that are trying to promote anti-birth control policy.

Courtesy of Feminist Review, I am excited to be able to continue the conversation on GWP about the relationship between feminism and religion. Last week, Allison McCarthy brought us an interview with Leora Tanenbaum, author of Taking Back God: American Women Rising Up for Religious Equality. Today Renee Leonowicz reviews Mary Henold’s Catholic and Feminist (UNC Press) and the rise of a feminist movement that originated within the Catholicism it hopes to change. –Kristen

It may be customary for some to place Catholic and feminist identities in opposition to each other, but Mary Henold’s illuminating and meticulous examination of the Catholic feminist movement unearths a critical link between feminist consciousness and activism, and Catholic tradition and conviction. Her comprehensive research illuminates an exhaustive timeline of the Catholic feminist movement that incorporates information gathered from texts and periodicals, a number of self-conducted interviews, and archival documents.

Henold traces the beginning of the feminist movement within the Catholic community to around the same time of the emergence of the larger women’s movement in the United States. She asserts, however, that religious women’s embrace of feminism was not applied to their faith as a mere reaction to the political climate at large. Henold argues that their feminism was actually propagated by their faith, and explores the inherently radical nature of Christianity through the actions of practicing feminist Catholics who declare social justice as a principle of their faith.

The American Catholic community underwent a radical reconstruction in the 1960s that brought blossoms of feminist consciousness into the church. This change led to a struggle to assert women’s autonomy and integrate progressive ambitions within the staunch conventionalism of the church’s hierarchy, and resulted in confusion, doubt, and subdued optimism in the 1970s. A fissure formed between women who were disenchanted with, and repudiating, the church, and those still hopeful for improvement. Henold chronicles the beginning of those divergent paths, which continue today.

In Catholic and Feminist, readers are introduced to the encapsulating sisterhood of religious women, theological scholars, and laywomen born of the prestigious and virile hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church. Whether ruminating on the sexist implications of the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960s, demanding ordination through grassroots organizing, or marching against injustices alongside nonreligious activists, Catholic feminists have incorporated their zeal for revolutionary equality with their faith to challenge sexism and other forms of oppression within the church and society at large.

Review by Renee Leonowicz

Cross-posted from Feminist Review

We’re extremely pleased to give you a guest post from Allison McCarthy, who is offering a unique addition to Girl with Pen with author discussions on recent books with a feminist twist. Allison is a freelance writer based in Maryland and a recent graduate of Goucher College. Her work has been published in The Baltimore Review, ColorsNW, Girlistic, JMWW, Scribble, Dark Sky, and The Write-Side Up. –Kristen

Leora Tanenbaum is a full-time writer and the author of classic contemporary feminist texts such as Slut! Growing Up Female With A Bad Reputation and Catfight: Rivalries Among Women–From Diets to Dating, From the Boardroom to the Delivery Room. She worked for ten years at the Jewish Education department of the National Headquarters of HADASSAH: The Women’s Zionist Organization of America. Her new book, Taking Back God: American Women Rising Up for Religious Equality (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), explores the complex relationships between American women and faiths such as Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. Drawing on a wide variety of sources, including many historical texts and personal interviews, Tanenbaum analyzes the dynamics of religion and feminism with skillful insight and nuanced sensitivity. In a recent phone interview, Tanenbaum discussed her work with this groundbreaking new book:

1.) Although this book may seem like a departure from the themes of your previous two books, it still carries a strong current of secular feminism. Do you see this book as continuing the work of your previous books?

It does on the face seem to be very different, but everything I write is ultimately about the same concern: to improve the lives of girls and women. Obviously, if we improve the lives of girls and women, it will improve the lives of boys and men. [My books] share in common the ways females are socialized in our culture and certainly in our culture, religion is chock-full of socialization of females to behave in certain circumscribed ways.

2.) Have you always self-identified as an Orthodox Jewish feminist? Were there any conflicts in your life that fractured these two identities?

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While I was disappointed by Obama’s choice of Rick Warren to give the invocation at the inauguration, and felt it was a double slap in the face to those fighting for gay rights after Prop 8, I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt to the choice. It seemed that it spelled the beginnings of a new era where the many faces of America were recognized, no matter which administration was in power and even if that meant recognizing those who refuse to do the same for their fellow citizens. It also just seemed like a symbolic, if potentially politically beneficial move for Obama, and one not to lose too much breath over given more substantive battles ahead. A New York Times article reported the following on how the invocation choice was received in Oklahoma:

The church’s pastor and founder, Billy Joe Daugherty, said that the selection of the Rev. Rick Warren, a prominent evangelical minister from California, to give the inaugural invocation went a long way to easing fears in Mr. Daugherty’s mostly conservative congregation about a liberal social agenda. Mr. Obama’s selection of Mr. Warren has been denounced by many gay rights advocates and other liberal groups.

And as Bishop Gene Robinson wrote, the inaugural committee’s request that Bishop Robinson, the only openly gay pastor of a major Christian denomination, give the invocation at the opening We Are One event was “an indication of the new president’s commitment to being the President of ALL the people.”

As long as Obama’s administration still pursues that liberal social agenda (getting rid of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, shoring up abortion rights, getting rid of Bush’s 11th hour health provider “conscience” rule), I’m fine with him extending the symbolic olive branch.

But speaking of facts on the ground, in reality Rick Warren’s speech was extremely disappointing, a piece exclusionary buffoonery. First, it felt generally uninspired, an ordinary speech for an extraordinary moment. Second, while some felt it gave inclusive nods to various American religious populations, I found his invocation of Jesus and full inclusion and leading of the “Our Father” prayer as unsettling, and I was raised with both in my religious background. I can’t imagine how it felt to those for whom such prayers and invocations have no religious meaning.

But it was the contrast between Rick Warren’s invocation on Tuesday, and Gene Robinson’s on Sunday, that was the most stark. Bishop Robinson began with a explosively inclusive tone: “O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…” and continued on:

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.

Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.

You should also read Gwen and Tonni’s awesome GWP post about feminism and faith from this morning.

Update:

I like this description from the New York Times of the national prayer service this morning attended by the Obamas and Bidens at the National Cathedral:

Some new traditions were also being made. The service featured no fewer than 20 interfaith clergy, including woman leaders of the Muslim and Hindu faiths. And for the first time, the preacher was a woman, the Rev. Dr. Sharon E. Watkins, general minister and president of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), a mainline Protestant denomination.