Rosemary Radford Ruether: Colleague and Friend

When I came to teach at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in the summer of 1988, one of the first faculty colleagues I met was Rosemary Radford Ruether. I had read many of her books earlier, with deep appreciation. But there at Garrett, where I directed Field Education and taught in the area of Spiritual Formation, she and I became fine colleagues and good friends. Rosemary had begun teaching at the seminary in 1976, where she soon was installed as the first Georgia Harkness Professor of Applied Theology. Here this active Catholic, widely ecumenical and interfaith theologian was officially given an endowed professorship in the name of a primary Protestant (Methodist) woman theologian of the mid-twentieth century. Her office and mine were on the same third floor, in a part of a building with no elevator. We and several other women faculties got good exercise up and down those stairs! Being close by, we also were able to have many significant conversations.

The women faculty of Garrett-Evangelical met together monthly for an evening meal at one another’s homes, where we shared confidentially about many elements of our lives within and beyond the seminary. Rosemary was exceedingly hospitable. She liked gardening and cooking and welcoming us warmly to her large home in Evanston, which she shared with her husband Herman, their two daughters and one son, and later, one or two students. As she loved to cook, we enjoyed some wonderful meals at her warm home. In addition to regularly gardening in the yard by their home, for a few years Rosemary grew tomatoes on a small area outside her office window at the seminary. Her appreciation of the wisdom of the earth was always evident as long as I knew her.

Rosemary was deeply appreciated, respected, and loved by master’s as well as doctoral students. Her teaching, her feminism, and her understanding of oppression and injustice all over the world, including among Palestinian, Latin American, and South African people, were great gifts to all of us—students and faculty alike. Her mentoring of women PhD candidates was superb, evidenced by the festschrift, Voices of Feminist Liberation, written by them for Rosemary’s 75th birthday. In so many ways, Rosemary helped her students become colleagues. Thus, she was assured that her ecofeminist and justice-affirming work would continue beyond her earthly life. Rosemary’s work as a liberation and ecofeminist theologian as well as her continuing attention to the Palestinian situation were significant lessons to all of us (students, faculty, and friends) who knew her in Evanston and beyond.

Rosemary’s intense hope for her disabled son David’s mental health was ever on her mind and heart. She decided to work with him on writing a book about his life and struggles with schizophrenia and about the challenging US mental health system. Published in 2010, the book, Many Forms of Madness, includes both details of the family’s care for and concern for David, and the struggles with the mental health systems. Rosemary shared some of her continuing concern and care for David with us as faculty colleagues and as friends both in Evanston and later at Pilgrim Place.

Rosemary also enjoyed watercolor painting. Once she told me that, for her, painting was a meditative form with no words, but simply appreciation of the natural world and of art. Her watercolor painting offered another dimension of life, beyond her prolific use of remarkable words in her teaching, in her public speaking, and in her 47 books and numerous articles. In many ways, she was clear that painting helped her be coherent about the fullness of all of life.

Rosemary’s sense of humor was a lovely and remarkable element of her life—in her teaching, in her interaction with friends, and in her writing. She also chuckled often, as she was speaking. What a delight that this theologian of great depth and enormous wisdom recognized the humor in much of what was occurring in our challenging world and communicated this so very well!

After Rosemary retired in 2002, she and Herman moved to Pilgrim Place retirement community in Claremont, California. In a very real way, Rosemary was returning to the geographical area of her earlier years. She had graduated from Scripps College as an undergraduate and from Claremont Graduate University with her master’s and doctoral degrees. When I moved to Pilgrim Place in December 2002, I was delighted to renew my friendship with both Rosemary and Herman. Again, their home became a place of welcome and hospitality for many people.

Together with others at Pilgrim Place, Rosemary helped begin Women Church here—a Sunday morning gathering for worship and sharing for many women who felt the need for more inclusive, feminist models than many of them found in their local congregations. Though I personally was not a regular active participant in Women Church, I honor Rosemary for making possible this important lively element within our common life. After a weekly ecumenical Eucharistic Circle was begun in early 2003, Rosemary became a frequent participant. She and I connected there regularly. We also were involved in continuing feminist conversations.

Sadly, in 2016, Rosemary fell and suffered a devastating stroke that led to her becoming unable to speak. Despite good medical attention, this remarkable activist scholar then needed to remain in our Pilgrim Place Health Services Center for tending and support. Her nearby daughter, Becky, often came to be with her mom. Becky and other caregivers would wheel her around to various events on campus. A caregiver often brought Rosemary to Tuesday morning’s Eucharistic Circle. After the services, when I would greet her, take her hand, say my name, and remind her that we had been colleagues and friends with offices near to one another at Garrett Seminary, Rosemary would smile, look directly at me, and squeeze my hand. It was clear to me, as it was to many others who greeted Rosemary, that in her cognition she recognized us, though she could no longer verbally respond.

One element of Rosemary’s character that was frequently evident was her quiet kindness and encouragement. Her supportive presence engaged beautifully with her family members, with graduate students, with faculty colleagues, and with persons in the wider community where she spoke. All of us could count on Rosemary! Her stroke and her eventual death in May 2022 led to deep sadness among all who knew her, as well as enormous appreciation for her full and abundant life that touched so many of us with grace, with hope, and with abiding love.

An amazing, gifted person, manifesting many diverse dimensions, Rosemary greatly influenced and enhanced my life, as a colleague, as a friend, and as a continuing presence.

In the words of affirmation known to many of us, who, like Rosemary, learned from our Latin American friends: Rosemary Radford Ruether: Presente!