the f word

If you haven't figured it out yet, I use the f word a lot. In casual conversation, in arguments, even in formal speeches. Yep, that's right, I'm a feminist. This blog is actually something I eventually want to use as more of a focused space to tackle the 21st century issues of feminism. (Stay tuned this summer for a full critique of The Feminist Mystique.)

In a society where someone with ovaries can vote, play football, sit in the Supreme Court, and legally plan their childbirths, I am still surprised when I come across barriers to positions, pay or power simply because I am a woman. Well not surprised really, but more just disappointed. And usually indignant, especially if you try to convince me that's the way things should stay.

But for 2 hours every week, I still have not figured out how to reconcile my passion for women's issues with my surroundings: in my church pew. I've heard all the reasons in the book why women are still limited in the church; we should "submit" to our spiritual husbands, it wasn't culturally acceptable in Biblical times, women have "different gifts", blah blah blah. I even restrained myself once from punching a college peer who told me he just "didn't trust the spiritual guidance of a woman because it would be too emotionally unstable." I combat this deep-seeded spiritual sexism by trying to contribute to communities that actively encourage women's leadership, from the pastoral position on down. The discrimination and exclusion of women and homosexuals in the Christian church seem to be two of the few hot topics that we use snippet verses to defend and ignore the cultural relativism we apply to most all other passages. In a broken world with broken people, I've always taken comfort to know that in heaven we will all be walking the same golden streets and watching the same big-screen tv, regardless of race, gender, class, or self-proclaimed righteousness. We've all fucked up, but are all equally forgiven.

Recently I realized that my new church in Baltimore still works under these old assumptions. In a community focused on racial and socioeconomic reconciliation, it saddened me to learn that "Biblically" women are not intended for leadership. Sure, they have a women's deacon committee and all that jazz to "honor the contributions of women when the men just can't figure it out," (actual quote from the pastor), but at the end of the day, not allowing women access to key leadership roles is just as damaging as banishing us to a separate tent outside town for 7 days out of each month. In fact, one columnist recently suggested that recent abuse within the church could be solved by allowing women into the Catholic diocese.

I haven't decided yet if this is a deal-breaker for me. But it's a heart breaker, to say the least.