Oooops

What Was I Thinking?

In my last post, I wrote:

His (Bryan Stevenson’s) next statements were an awakening as I saw the parallels for women’s concerns:

“We don’t realize that we are in the very early days of a post-apartheid/post-genocide era in this country.”

I wondered, “What would we call it for women … post-marginalization/post-oppression?”

And then it dawned on me! For women, we are not “post-.”

Clearly, I Wasn’t Thinking

I don’t know if it is brain fog, senior moments, or what, but when I listened to Bryan Stephenson and Jon Stewart’s conversation and wrote that post, the only words that came to me were “marginalization & oppression.” Somehow I knew they didn’t quite contain the power of “apartheid & genocide.” I’m sure some of my readers did as well.

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to join a dozen women for a ritual … a binding ceremony. In that circle, I heard more powerful words … more fitting words … “misogyny and patriarchy.”

A Binding Ritual

The intent of this ceremony was to bind the power creating harm to others and the earth.

We were asked to prepare something symbolic of the power used to overthrow women’s right to choose and to bring it along with a spool of black thread.

We began with a chant to restore harmony and justice to the peoples and creatures of the earth.

Then we collectively developed the words to chant as we wrapped our symbol in black thread.

“We bind misogyny so no harm is done to women and the earth.”

Following the ceremony, we buried this symbol of women’s disempowerment in the earth.

Memories of Awakening

In 1975, I entered United Theological Seminary. As a valued and active church volunteer, I was encouraged to take this step by church leaders who saw my leadership potential. By the way, all those church leaders were women.

As a naïve young mother, I knew little of the women’s movement. I had heard in the news about women burning their bras, but had no idea what that was about. But I did feel like a failure as a woman. My marriage wasn’t going well and my children were facing challenges I couldn’t understand or seem to help them with.

My first class, Woman, Man, and the Sexual Revolution, was an awakening. In that class, my consciousness was raised to the realities of patriarchy and misogyny and how they were affecting my personal life. I wrote about it in my memoir, A Long Awakening to Grace, on page 62. The following is an excerpt:

The third week, our class viewed documentaries about growing up male and female in the 1950s and 1960s produced by local filmmakers Julia Reichert and Jim Klein. Harriet (our professor) showed “Growing Up Female” first. I couldn’t understand the point the film made and why Harriet included it in the syllabus. It looked like normal life for girls to me—learning how to apply make-up, style hair, and dress fashionably. Maybe that guidance counselor telling those girls to attend to their future husband’s every little need is a bit over the top.

A male classmate broke the hush that descended on the room and remained several minutes after the lights turned back on. Ken’s voice sounded incredulous. “You get so many messages you’re not okay just as you are.”

Oh my gosh. Could this be the reason I feel so inadequate as a woman?

Three Years Later

By 1978, I had witnessed the cruel and disrespectful treatment some of my sisters had experienced at the hands of denominational leaders. And I had my own challenges as I moved from valued volunteer to threatening colleague.

A group of us eagerly embarked on an independent study of feminist theology. A male faculty member agreed to sponsor us while he remained in the background. He trusted us to do the work. In fact, the seminary professors valued our enthusiasm for our studies, our fresh thinking, and the quality of our scholarship. It was those in power in our denominations who wanted us to stay in our place as lay volunteers.

A Ritual of Rendering

At the end of our twelve weeks, we gathered in one of the women’s yards to enter into a ritual we had developed together.

One of the women brought a cauldron. Another brought a large circular wooden ring, a sacred symbol representing the circle of life, wholeness, unity, the infinite, The Divine and so much more. Another brought a ball of red yarn and scissors for each of us. Pens and small squares of paper were handy.

We hung the ring from a tree over the cauldron and draped it with lengths of red yarn. We named our own and the experience of women in general harmed by the patriarchal system, including in the institution of the church. As we shared, we wrote these experiences and observations on the small squares of paper and tied them to the red strings. They dangled over the cauldron.

After reading passages from the feminist theologians who inspired us and scripture affirming our calls to ministry and our worth as women, we chanted …

“We render impotent the demons of patriarchy.”

As we cut the strings, our misogynist experiences and observations fell into the cauldron. We closed our ceremony by lighting afire these demonic forces.

I never dreamed we’d be moving backwards as a country forty-seven years later.

Signs of Hope

Think Kansas = referendum to strip abortion rights out of the state constitution fails.

Ohio, Kansas, Pennsylvania, & Idaho see a surge in women registering to vote since the overturn of Roe v Wade.

Pulling for you, Michigan … voters will decide on abortion rights in November.