Editorial

The political scene of 2018 might well be categorized as one of polarization. In the US, UK, and in Europe, the divides between those on the ‘right’ and those on the ‘left’ are stark. Any possible centre ground between positions seems impossible against the cacophony of voices stating loudly that ‘if you aren’t with us, you are against us’.

Against this backdrop, arguments in academic feminist studies and in more popular forms of feminism seemed similarly polarized. If historical misogynistic discourse in philosophy and theology grouped itself around the questions ‘What is Woman?’ and ‘What does Woman want?’, today’s world sees these questions reframed through a querying of what it means to be ‘a woman’. In today’s world, these discourses are framed through the lens of discussions of the status of ‘transwomen’, and arguments proliferate regarding their status alongside those who have been born female.

Once again, we find these discussions taking on the now familiar shape of polarized positioning: you either affirm the existence of transwomen, and thus stand with the LGBTQIA (the acronym for ‘Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Asexual’) community against transphobia; or you are a ‘TERF’ (Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist), and reject the idea that someone can be born a man and ‘become’ a woman.

It is very difficult in a context where positions are reduced to acronyms to think seriously about some of the questions regarding identity and the body that are being raised by the presence of transwomen. Is the physical body irrelevant to the fluid gendering of the human subject? What does it mean to be feminist, or, indeed, to be a woman? And these are far from academic questions, for they pervade the practical realm of political decision-making. An example from the UK Labour Party gives a sense of this: should the ‘woman only shortlists’ hitherto used to increase the number of women running for Parliament include transwomen? Or should there be a separate process for them?

These questions of identity require reasoned and careful, respectful engagement. To suggest this kind of approach can seem quaintly old-fashioned in a context where hard and fast lines are being drawn in the sand between opposing positions. Can we move beyond this to real communication with those whose ideas we might not much like, or is it necessary to hold firmly to what we believe in a world where the key political players are dividing and ruling in a way we have not seen since the middle years of the twentieth century?

The articles in this edition of the journal might seem far removed from such visceral, political discussions; but in many ways they model how we might open up some space for reflective, nuanced consideration of questions such as these.

The subject of Susan Hekman’s article is Luce Irigaray’s contention that women require a ‘female divine’ in order to develop as female subjects. Hekman argues that Irigaray’s argument requires a dualistic rendition of the divine and is, as a result, highly problematic. Instead, she argues, we should explore the divine through ideas derived from process theology, for it is only in this way that we might escape the historic dualisms that made women’s bodies so problematic in the first place.

The ideas of process theology also inform Maxine Walker’s article on Karen Armstrong’s highly personal account of her spiritual journey out of Christianity. Walker’s analysis picks up on Armstrong’s articulation of the way a negative account of the female body affected one woman’s spirituality, and she uses Armstrong’s escape to suggest possible ways forward.

The historical problem of dualism is also considered in Ioanna Sahinidou’s account of women’s lives in the ancient world. Her focus is on the goddesses Athena and Hestia, and she reveals both the patriarchal dualism that informs their characterization, as well as suggesting the potential for alternative readings for women in the stories told of these two goddesses.

Marianna Ruah-Midbar Shapiro continues this excavation of the stories that have shaped narratives of womanhood through her discussion of Adam’s first wife Lilith. Her history of this mythical figure reveals the potency that this image might still have for feminists.

Detailed readings of this kind reveal that the narratives which have been used to exclude women from public roles are not always what they seem. Karen O’Donnell turns to the practices of the early church, and suggests that presiding at the eucharistic meal was not simply the preserve of men. In private homes, women took the lead in these central Christian celebrations. Women might have been pushed out of the public arena of the church, but that does not mean that they were without agency in drawing upon the symbols of the sacred.

In O’Donnell’s article we get a sense of the homeliness of religious practice. Pamela Yetunde’s commentary on Audre Lorde’s spirituality offers a similarly powerful reading of the concrete locatedness of one woman’s spiritual journey. A womanist non-dualism emerges from Yetunde’s reading of this important foremother that suggests the importance of the spiritual for shaping the political realm.

This practical concern with how best to live informs Silvia Martinez Cano’s article on a spirituality of connectedness. In a context where ‘austerity’ is often used to describe cuts designed to curb the public sector, Martinez Cano reclaims this idea to think about the kind of simple living that makes possible the flourishing of women, the planet and all people.

That feminism can be a movement for the exploration of women’s lives and the possibilities of creative tensions is borne witness in these varied articles. Perhaps it is this tone of thoughtful discussion and careful analysis that we can take into the world of 2019. That is the challenge, but also the promise, of the kind of feminist theologies presented in this edition of the journal.