eirenophile's review against another edition
4.0
If you like this, check out [book: Bare Your Soul] and [book: Introducing Thealogy]
booksladycma's review against another edition
3.0
This book had many different - but all gynocentric - viewpoints on theology. I learned a lot about Christian and Jewish feminist thought that I hadn't previously known. The book also showed the beginnings of the women's rights movement in the 1970's, with which my mother was extremely involved. Some of the scholarship was outdated, but all in all this was an illuminating read.
savaging's review
2.0
"Maybe the most authentic celebration begins with rejoicing in that which is breaking up from down under." - Nelle Morton
There were good moments in this book: Mary Daly's fierce rejection of patriarchy in religion as idolatry; Judith Plaskow retooling the creation myth with sisterhood solidarity ("And God and Adam were expectant and afraid the day Eve and Lilith returned to the garden, bursting with possibilities, ready to rebuild it together."); Starhawk just being Starhawk.
But many of the essays addressed questions far more pressing to white academics in the 70s than they are to me. And here's the thing about compiling an anthology of feminist theology (or rather theAlogy) where all of the writers are white: not only is it unethical and unjust to marginalize the voices of people of color; it is also boring. Let's face it, fellow white feminists: all of the most interesting and powerful theological ideas are coming from people of color, from womanism to liberation theology. It's nice that white folks have witches and Jung -- but otherwise it feels like oppressors get the theology they deserve: dusty, brittle, inauthentic and dull.
The essay that broke out of this for me was Sheila Collins' "Theology in the Politics of Appalachian Women." From the title I was thinking "even when they're going to talk about poor people they hunt down white poor people." While this is true, Collins is aware that the future of religious authenticity is in the struggle against oppression, especially in the work done by black and Latino communities. Her prose sings as she calls religious women, who "have been used to mop up the wounds created by the cruelties of industrial capitalism," to hold to a religious worldview that centers their own stories:
"Such knowledge is powerful. We begin to identify not with the privileged, whom we have always been taught to emulate, but with the common people of the earth. It was such identification Jesus talked about in his Sermon on the Mount. A colonialist church has never been able to understand how the first could be last and the meek inherit the earth. Such knowledge is the beginning of Wisdom, who is personified in the Old Testament as a woman, wild and unladylike, shouting aloud in the streets for bread and justice because no one in the synagogues, the courts or the legislature would listen."
There were good moments in this book: Mary Daly's fierce rejection of patriarchy in religion as idolatry; Judith Plaskow retooling the creation myth with sisterhood solidarity ("And God and Adam were expectant and afraid the day Eve and Lilith returned to the garden, bursting with possibilities, ready to rebuild it together."); Starhawk just being Starhawk.
But many of the essays addressed questions far more pressing to white academics in the 70s than they are to me. And here's the thing about compiling an anthology of feminist theology (or rather theAlogy) where all of the writers are white: not only is it unethical and unjust to marginalize the voices of people of color; it is also boring. Let's face it, fellow white feminists: all of the most interesting and powerful theological ideas are coming from people of color, from womanism to liberation theology. It's nice that white folks have witches and Jung -- but otherwise it feels like oppressors get the theology they deserve: dusty, brittle, inauthentic and dull.
The essay that broke out of this for me was Sheila Collins' "Theology in the Politics of Appalachian Women." From the title I was thinking "even when they're going to talk about poor people they hunt down white poor people." While this is true, Collins is aware that the future of religious authenticity is in the struggle against oppression, especially in the work done by black and Latino communities. Her prose sings as she calls religious women, who "have been used to mop up the wounds created by the cruelties of industrial capitalism," to hold to a religious worldview that centers their own stories:
"Such knowledge is powerful. We begin to identify not with the privileged, whom we have always been taught to emulate, but with the common people of the earth. It was such identification Jesus talked about in his Sermon on the Mount. A colonialist church has never been able to understand how the first could be last and the meek inherit the earth. Such knowledge is the beginning of Wisdom, who is personified in the Old Testament as a woman, wild and unladylike, shouting aloud in the streets for bread and justice because no one in the synagogues, the courts or the legislature would listen."
pattydsf's review
3.0
I have owned this book since it was published in 1979. I was three years married, three years out of college and in my first professional job as a librarian. This collection helped me realize that my thoughts about G!d, Christianity and women’s liberation were not unusual and not a mistake. Here I am forty years later still trying to understand how my faith and feminism work together. I have learned that G!d loves me and loves all women and believes that we have a role in worshipping Her.
I revisited this book because I have been considering visiting Crete with Carol Christ. I doubt I will get there, but I am glad to have re-encountered these essays. This was one of the few times lately that I felt like a little progress might have been made. I suspect that any woman under 50 would find some of these very outdated. However, we still have a long way to go.
I revisited this book because I have been considering visiting Crete with Carol Christ. I doubt I will get there, but I am glad to have re-encountered these essays. This was one of the few times lately that I felt like a little progress might have been made. I suspect that any woman under 50 would find some of these very outdated. However, we still have a long way to go.
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