Scriptures and Spirituality: Tools for Women’s Spiritual Quest
If one would interview mystics and saints acclaimed by their cultures as spiritual adepts, one would find hardly an individual to vouch that spiritual growth is easy. Still the story of their achievements fascinates us. Their vexations, their inner trials, the opposing circumstances, their impact upon society, all those ingredients that make a biography interesting, enable us to associate with their spiritual journey. Their stories reveal variations, however, that defy any attempt at neat theological categorizations. The desire to evaluate spirituality on an abstract scale by degrees of holiness is never conducted by the saints themselves, but only by their admirers or their detractors. Saints frequently live an unconventional life, breaking boundaries and forcing society to reconsider its role models. Hence the import of a saint often exceeds our expectations of the spiritual life.
The successful quest for spirituality shows such wide variations in the actual lifestyles of men and women that it is difficult to collate into fixed rules. While institutional religions understandably resist approving those spiritual approaches that do not fit their denominational standards, holy men and women have been known to embarrass church orthodoxy. So how does one learn from the ranks of holy people?
A dilemma recurs particularly in Western women’s quest for spirituality: spiritual guidance can be hazardous to their self-esteem. Women frequently must make a choice between society’s cultural-religious beliefs about their gender and their own personal feelings about themselves. This vexation surfaces acutely in the awareness of women who attempt to control their spiritual destiny.
A principal source of irritation for women continues to be those historical fonts of spiritual waters, the scriptures of the world. The traditional keepers of these scriptures are men who claim the final authority for interpretation. Into this established tradition have come new dissenting voices. These voices, mostly feminine, are bringing fresh reflections upon the interpretive role that gender asserts in the composition of scripture and its social context.
For most male believers, a major basis for religious security arises from the conviction that spirituality, like most everything in the universe, is truly a man’s world. For centuries the male spiritual elite—theologians, pundits, priests, rabbis, shamans, mullahs, lamas, and rishis—used their scriptures to justify their privileged positions in society. The Torah and the Gospels, as well as the Qur’an, are considered by their followers to be divinely inspired words, but words, one should keep in mind, composed from and within the context of a patriarchal culture, and thus unavoidably reflective of those values. In the ambiance of patriarchy—a classical worldview that embraces social, economic, political, and religious values stressing male privilege and domination—it happens that women are subjugated and oppressed. While men recognize that women’s lives demonstrate unique aspects in this cultural context, these differences are given only secondary consideration in spirituality. Women believers have achieved religious security from obedience to these conditions. Security does not necessarily promote growth.
Let us look at one of the principal scriptures. The Bible is not a series of scientific abstracts, but just the opposite. It narrates stories of Semitic peoples in their search and struggle for the meaning of life, covering a period of approximately 1,400 years. Their quest has been characterized by theologians as salvation-history, wherein oppressed and sinful people respond in various ways when offered liberation by a divine benefactor. The heroes of these stories have names like Abraham, Noah, Moses, David, Solomon, Sampson, Jeremiah, Isaias, Daniel, John the Baptist, Jesus, Peter, Paul, Stephen, to name a few. Heroines, in comparison, hardly exist. Since the spread of the Bible into the world it has been customary for believers, not only in Semitic societies, but throughout the Western hemisphere, to accept the patriarchal worldview it depicts as the cultural standard.
Over the centuries a great deal of social modification has ensued. The description of a Jewish or Christian wedding in the twentieth century, for example, is not the same in every detail as in the times of Moses or Paul. Yet the religious and cultural patterns of modern societies still retain the same patriarchal perspective. Women’s social status and spiritual opportunities are primarily devised and approved by men. Spiritual authority and the abundance of spiritual benefices have devolved historically upon males as the primary, if not exclusive, agents of achievements and transmission. Even the God of the Bible has been traditionally imaged as male. Would it seem, women inquire, a blasphemy to imagine the divine as transcending gender? Would God be impugned by inclusive male and female characteristics? Is salvation permitted only if one accepts allegiance to God in the male role? A further question may be asked regarding the Bible as a whole. Just as the prophets in the Hebrew scriptures reinterpreted their own traditions, dismissing and rejecting as well as emphasizing and enhancing inherited values, has the time come in our period of history to place the patriarchal standard of the Bible up for debate? As the standard of social intercourse, it may have worn out its welcome and, thanks to feminine criticism, we are realizing its limitations. A new quandary then emerges for those whose sole roots for spiritual values reside in the Bible. If one relies upon the Bible for every clue to spirituality, then any questioning of biblical structures sounds subversive.
For many women, the Bible is the most authoritative source for their spiritual life. As we have seen, the composition and redaction of the Bible has been the responsibility of those living within a patriarchal social context. Down through the ages this fundamental outlook has been the inspiration that male believers have recounted to indicate the proper place of women in social and spiritual life. For the most part, women have accepted this arrangement.
Yet what are women to do when frustrated by the conflict between their religious beliefs about their gender and their own self-discovery? Some assert questions that jeopardize their religious and social inheritance. They criticize specific interpretations of biblical texts that assume, and thus support, the male context of spirituality on social and theological grounds. Some discover how confining and unfair this tradition appears, and later come upon other scriptures, such as the Upanishads, which, in contradiction, exalt the feminine person.
Theological speculation and religious ritual have been derived from those texts of scripture that would indicate that women should retain a submissive role. It has been the common practice to generalize many texts and give them an anthropological import. For example, Paul’s letter to the Corinthians speaks about the proper decorum and manners of women in a religious assembly:
But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head; for that is even all one as if she were shaven. For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn; but if it be a shame for a woman to be shaven, let her be covered. I Cor. 11: 5-6
The traditional interpretation of this text is that women must cover their heads because this decree arises either from an exigency of woman’s nature or by divine ordination. Since Paul spoke about Corinthian women of the first century, traditionalists would insist that his regulation must be valid today. But the expansion of Paul’s remark to a local community into a universal proclamation about women’s headdress makes as much sense as insisting that Paul had vested interests in a haberdashery. Other problems arise: is Paul’s dictum obeyed better by the colossal extravagances of Victorian women or by the postage-size doilies pinned on the heads of the women of the Assembly of God Church? There is neither textual nor logical connection between Paul’s utterance and its unconditional application to women everywhere and for all time. What are exegetes and theologians to do in the face of texts that scholarship alone cannot seem to resolve? What about texts that offer only a negative status quo about women, as well as those that would challenge this presumption?
I will therefore that men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands without wrath and doubting. In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array but (which becomes women professing godliness) with good works. Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. For Adam was first formed, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression. Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing, if they continue in faith and charity and holiness with sobriety. I Tim. 2:8-15
For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female; for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. Gelation’s 3:27-8
These quandaries illuminate a further problem: Just how useful is the Bible as a guide for feminine spirituality? Depicting women in scriptures is one thing; discerning her nature and possible spiritual options is another. Does belief in the Bible as God’s revelation presume that it instructs women to reiterate in their current spiritual life the same socio-religious values that structured Semitic societies? Specifically, is the description of women’s subordinate role an appeal to perpetuate it forever? Is this what being faithful to the holy texts means? With such an approach to the Bible it would be only logical to insist that Jews and Christians initiate holy wars, extending the pillage and rape recorded in Exodus. Obviously, a civilized person would be repulsed by such an inference. But the repulsion does not remove the problem: Should believers today reinstitute the self-image and social status of men and women found in the passages of the Bible? Does the paucity of biblical stories enhancing women’s role mean that this absence is normative, ethically and spiritually?
Confronting the Bible are irreversible changes in history. The cultural emergence of the nuclear age has no antecedents in biblical times; the attitudes, ambitions, pressures, and general sense of living today have no exact equivalent in the biblical world. Curiously the enlargement of women’s roles and the increased recognition of new opportunities in society have been inspired less by biblical resources than by women’s hard struggle in the social, economic, and political arenas. A tension unavoidably arises between the Bible’s description of women and the contemporary assessment of her worth and opportunities.
When the Bible is not appraised as a manual of proof-texts to exemplify a patriarchal society, then there is room for viewing women in other contexts. Seeing many contexts for women’s lives leads to a variety of moral values.
Acknowledging the historical conditions for textual statements clarifies the range for applying these statements. The Jewish community would not cast its reading of the Wisdom literature, for instance, into the political light of Deuteronomy; the Psalms are not legislation. At the same time, the continuity of the people in their history accumulates an overall context for the personal well-being of the community.
One advantage in approaching the Bible overall (its spirit of salvation rather than its cultural mores) is that it exerts a corrective pressure upon all forms of oppression. It questions the patronizing of either gender oppressed over groups in society, thereby exposing any arbitrary assumptions around treatment of those considered different than oneself.
For example, women have known the feelings of being powerless in male societies dedicated to personal freedom. One of the multiple themes taken up in biblical stories involves the perspective of the powerless. Stories of God’s concern for widows, orphans, outcasts, the physically handicapped, the impoverished, and the enslaved abound. The afflicted of society are very much included in the biblical concern for justice and liberation. Women could associate their own exile from recognition by society and religious authorities with these various episodes. Thus, they can draw upon the Bible’s emancipation themes for stimulus to continue their own struggle for personal, social, and spiritual identity. If the Bible opposes such a sense of justice, then belief in the Bible is fruitless and destructive.
There is another unexpected critical tradition within the Bible that is not given sufficient attention as a spiritual resource. The prophetic tradition presents a host of protesters to confront the social and spiritual abuses of not only the “pagan,” but of the Jewish faithful. From Amos to Zechariah there is a long list of prophets whose writings reveal a distinctive perspective that opposed the injustices of the social and religious status quo. The prophets were keen critics. They denounced society’s use of religion to exonerate injustice and prejudice and to entrench privileges of power over the less advantaged.
What these writings provide in their spirit and rationale is both precedent and incentive to examine the forms and policies constituting spirituality today. The reason for resisting the canonizing of particular texts is that they themselves reveal limitations. They relate to specific problems in a specific era, crucial problems at that time, but not exhaustive of every instance of injustice. The acerbic judgment of a prophet does not necessarily extend to every form of oppression in that community. Obviously, the prophets selected certain issues to denounce or praise; others they left untouched. They were sensitive to the enslavement of the Jewish people by foreign empires but neglected to protest the Jewish family’s use of slaves. Is it safe to assume that because other instances of oppression are not denounced, they are therefore tacitly approved by the prophets? If this tradition is more than merely a historical episode, then its prophetic spirit is an encouragement to examine the current forms of spiritual orthodoxy for their enrichment, as well as for their deformation.
The Bible speaks to one’s path when it stirs the mind and heart of life. Scripture can shake our sense of reality, stirring our longing for life, beauty, truth, and goodness. It requires less our submission than our enlargement of soul to recognize its worth. It must relieve our anxiety about the fragmentariness of living and beckon us to wholeness.
Scripture, however, cannot be the highest court of appeal for spirituality; no revealed writings can. The greatness of the Bible, as well as other scriptures, lies not in its composition and proclamations but in its power to induce the reader and listener to fulfill themselves from its message. Once, when I was completing research at a library belonging to the New Church of Jerusalem, I asked one of the church officers, an energetic and intelligent young man, if the people in the community meditated and explored consciousness as Emmanuel Swedenborg, their founder, charted it. He replied that it was most unlikely. Why should they bother since it had all been done already by their founder in the eighteenth century and was vividly described in his writings? Apparently, many people are satisfied to treat scripture as an armchair traveler’s brochure: read about it but don’t visit.
Scripture can be viewed as one of the many important companions that we meet along the way of our life’s destiny, a companion which offers us an encouraging word, suggests a route, and displays a rough map. This encounter illuminates the meaning of our experience, provided we pay attention. Our weariness with the many insoluble moments of not knowing what to do about the confusion of life can fade almost like magic. We feel refreshed. Scripture has this power to renew when it reflects our most profound desires. It is a precious map; it is not the territory. It offers only a guide to where the treasure lies, leaving the details of how to get there to us. As a trusted companion it can reveal much about ourselves but it becomes a peril when we substitute it for the private work of self-discovery.
Spiritual growth, then, does not necessarily result from reading and believing in scripture. Faith in the biblical word cannot be equated with the realization of spirituality. Memorizing a biblical text is not the same thing as realizing that text in our concrete daily life. The profound meaning and direction of life is not a duplication of biblical stories. By itself the Bible cannot serve as the sole resource for human wisdom any more than as the sole source of astronomy when it describes the heavens. At best, it is naive to use scripture as the only means for spiritual guidance. God does not reside in a book. Genesis and the Wisdom books assert that God is found by means of learning about reality. Only by engaging in life’s problems, living in the world and drawing upon its values, does one begin the long, twisting road to understanding the meaning of God and of oneself.
The objective discrepancy between the biblical account of women and that of the ever-changing contemporary scene demands that women cross-examine both. They must perform the interrogation by themselves. It is a spiritual inquest, one that hopefully illuminates evidence to assess in the unending journey of self-definition.
For this task, full of wonder and pain, there are certain aids and principles that hasten the marvel of self-discovery and its attending freedom. The aids have proved sound over the centuries. They are useful only if the traveler finds a resonance with them. Not all will be suitable at once; they require adjustment to one's lifestyle. But since they come recommended by historical persistence, they are worth more than a glance.
First is the recognition that health and spirituality belong together. Taking care of one’s body is imperative. A spiritual program that undermines health is spiritually destructive. It almost seems banal to mention, but it is a fact of our hectic world that women are as guilty as men in abusing the elementary requirements for sound health. Adequate sleep, nutritious food, sufficient exercise and relaxation are the staples that, if neglected, imperil one’s overall health and spiritual vitality. Occasionally one must step back and ponder: What am I doing to my body? Since my body is an extension of my mind, what I do with my body rebounds upon my mental outlook. It is amazing how melancholy and nervous behavior lessen when bodily requirements are met. Too often one’s concept of spirituality includes a disregard of the body which leads to decreased energy and illness.
The second principle is one’s responsibility for the formation of personal identity. Spiritual growth does not entail the vigorous diminution of the ego, for without it one could hardly entertain a serious possibility for spiritual fulfillment. One’s individual responses to life and the way one judges life’s experiences derive from, as well as instill, an intimate sense of identity. Self-worth and personal ambition reflect one another. When women think they should disqualify themselves from spiritual attainment out of a restrictive sense of modesty, then the result is mediocrity, a sense of unworthiness, and a threatening, scattered life. Healthy spirituality, on the other hand, instills a vibrant sense of self-direction. Forming a strong sense of personal worth is not necessarily equivalent to self-aggrandizement. The candid assessment of one’s talents, together with an attitude of positive engagement with life’s ambiguities, and a refusal to be less successful about life than the sages and saints are some of the elements composing the spiritual formation of personal identity.
The various spiritual practices are designed not to embellish the personality’s complacency in its holiness, but to confront oneself with ever more and richer reality. All spiritual practices are attempts at personal insight which liberate one from self-imposed boundaries. The finite personality reaches out to the unknown, the infinite. The bruises incurred by growth, it seems to me, have only one ultimate reason: to bring one to the truths about life. Anything less is self-delusion, which is the biggest cause of our troubles. One struggles until shrewdness dawns.
The third principle is the recognition that one’s person is not just the result of historical forces and society's standards. Persons possess a life force which may be described as inherent dignity. This quality is neither granted nor abrogated by society. People may abuse it, but it is never lost. Historically, societies have been slow to recognize the broad implications of this irreversible truth and in the contemporary world it is insufficiently appreciated. But cultural roles and social mores cannot erase the priority of human dignity; it remains unalterable and must include an equitable share in the cultural good, services, and opportunities necessary for humane survival with dignity.
Women’s experience of life is as important as men’s. The complementarity of the sexes means that one gender is not inferior or subservient to the other, scriptures notwithstanding. A woman must trust her own experience rather than man’s interpretation of it. So many assumptions are embedded in society’s ways of treating people that a constant vigilance is demanded to disclose any demeaning of the sexes.
Men and women are variously interdependent among themselves and among each other. We require each other in order to become self-reliant. Society’s rules are not made to establish utter conformity but to support sufficient order so that people can become themselves. Personhood does not deny autonomous individuality but realizes that it can take place better in community. People can achieve more by fostering ties with a developing community.
A community, however, remains an abstraction without a material setting. We cannot exist as spiritual human beings without preserving our earthly roots. It finally comes down to the insight that both men and women are morally responsible to ensure that the universe succeeds. People are not monads, islands of sheer individuality. A certain reciprocity emerges as one recognizes how dependent one is upon clean air, pure water, nutritious crops, and the rhythms of nature. No longer a leisurely option, ecology must become a trust, an indispensable obligation, for survival.
These minimum principles are not really subject to the democratic procedure of consent. They are not a temporary preference, but a requirement of the very nature of self-consciousness in either gender. Any lessening of them in political, economic, educational, and spiritual aims or policies dehumanizes all in the community. They belong to the spiritual essence of being human and thus form a foundation for spirituality.
It should be obvious that the comprehension of spirituality, like humanity, is impossible through one sex alone. The marvel of nature is that each gender reveals those characteristics that are variously androgynous to both. How the human spirit expresses these potentials is the particular combination of temperament, character, and choices that blend into making the individual. Gradually one understands that only by nurturing personal relations with others can certain truths about individual human nature and gender emerge. In this way, individuality-in-community comes into being, a paradox but not a contradiction. The various ways society can discover to encourage interdependence upon genders protects the claim to public and private recognition of individuality. One’s interactions are a telling index of one’s self-regard. Hence spirituality thrives when there is a healthy recognition of diverse paths. Orthodoxy is not necessarily one-dimensional. A diversity of traditions must prevail if the value of the person is appreciated.
And so, the factors are listed. All quite simple on paper and seemingly unspiritual. Yet without them to forge the journey, one makes oneself anemic on a diet of holy dreams. Christian women must resist the temptation to imagine spirituality as a holy fairy tale with Prince Jesus coming to their rescue.
Spiritual growth demands a revision of the meaning of life. It takes place in the face of real experiences, private and social. A spiritual path forces one to pass through a series of predicaments, confusions, upheavals, and readjustments to life. It’s never easy. The revisions demanded for growth are more than a change in ideas. The will, emotions, attitudes, relationships, the way one schedules each day, all affect a lifestyle that embodies the uneven growth in self-knowledge. The locus for feminine spirituality cannot start in scripture. It begins in the throes of that feminine struggle that finally sees in the heat of life’s trials the world’s attitude that she still ought not be as free as men because of her gender. Out of this painful insight and her personal struggles of defeat and gain, however tenuous, emerges a clarifying freedom that, assimilated alone though shared with others, disposes a woman to find the ultimate resource in herself.
Spirituality always remains a personal odyssey, a life ripening towards wisdom; a life wherein one gradually loses fear of change, where insecurity and loneliness are whiffs of memory recalled in the laughter of remembrance, where a steady tranquility feels at home amidst the chaos of ephemeral values of the day, where petty anxieties cannot touch deeply, and where one senses more and more a union with creation in its altering manifestations of creative energy. Self-discovery now becomes for her a sacred revelation, not because a church confirms it or that any bible suggests it, but because a woman matures from it into her feminine consciousness of being. The spiritual quest beckons to her to nurture from out of all this complexity of pain and wonder a personal philosophy that kindles a new awareness of life’s worth and a celebration of feminine destiny. From the truth of her experience of living she may even hear echoes of the scriptures.