|
‹‹ Return |
|
Appendix N - The Church as Contested Territory by The Rev. Margaret R. Rose
|
|
Within the context of the debates that are occurring at the United Nations during the "Beijing +10" conference this month -- on the "contested territories" of human rights, development, and the marginalization of women across the world -- a focus on institutional religion might seem surprising. But I also live in contested territory -- the church. And it is time for some of us to come out of the closet in a big and public way. Also, we need the passion from women of faith to shape the contested territory that claims the voice and power of women today in church and society. Let me begin "at home" by addressing my own church denomination as contested territory. Being a biblical person, I believe it is important to look at what the Bible calls the "log in your own eye" before complaining about the mote in another's. The Anglican Church -- of which the U.S. Episcopal Church is one part -- has long had a presence at the United Nations through the office of an Anglican U.N. Observer. But it was only three-and-a-half years ago, when Taimalelagi Matalavea from Samoa took the observer position, that women's issues became a top priority. Over the years, there have been small U.S.-based delegations of Anglican women to the U.S. Commission on the Status of Women (UNCSW). But our real passion for this work has come more recently, in the midst of what I will call "the contested territory" of the Anglican Communion. I am speaking of the controversy following the election and confirmation of an openly gay bishop in New Hampshire in 2003. Throughout the following months, there was talk of a church split and many threats were flung around. At the same time, Anglican women gathering at last year's UNCSW began to claim a different voice: a global network of Anglican women working for change in our own countries and whose bonds of unity did not depend on the disagreements of "faith and order." Nevertheless, as the controversy has raged, we have realized that the representation of women in church decision-making positions is as paltry as the governments about whom we have been complaining. Among the 800 official members of the Anglican Communion hierarchy of our church (the so-called "Instruments of Unity"), only 30 are women. That's a pretty bad percentage. In official Anglican circles, reports and communiqués have been issued. And aside from a few very competent women -- thank heavens, at least, for them -- the whole conversation has been carried out by men. In spite of the fact that the VOICES of women are excluded, much of the HIDDEN agenda is men speaking for women, related to traditional views of power, masculinity and femininity, and of course, patriarchy and women's bodies. This year, there are 41 women from the worldwide Anglican Communion who have gathered for the 2005 session of the UNCSW. After weeks of work together, the conversation has yet to break down over questions of sexual orientation. But there is great energy for achieving equity in decision-making, both in the church and in governments. The religious voice among these women is also claiming a political voice, and it is our faith which is compelling us and calling us to do it. This leads to second arena of contested territory that goes far beyond my own church: the broader question of religion and public life. Religion may well have its private sphere, but for Christian feminists today it is also vital to public policy. The Moral Majority and others have no trouble at all with this concept. I would wager that mainstream and progressive women claim that our values shape our thinking. And if one is active in any faith community, one would claim that those are religious values. Many have said that had John Kerry been more explicit about his religious practice, things in the U.S. presidential election might have been different. It is, of course, not that easy. For even when that different voice is spoken, even when the feminist religious voice does come out of the closet -- even when we are very, very clear, our voices go unnoticed and unheard. And this leads me to another contested territory: the media. As a vehicle for the public voice, the media too often do not take note of women's voices. Or perhaps I should say, they do not take note of more feminist voices. Several examples: I was recently on a plane where a previous passenger had left a newspaper on the seat -- I think it was The Wall Street Journal. It was during the height of the controversy at Harvard University over the inflammatory remarks by its president, Lawrence Summers, on women and science. Throughout the paper, the main characters of the articles or the author are printed in digitized photos to draw your attention to what is being said. There were at least ten of those photos in this article -- and every single one a white male. Now, it could be that I just picked up the paper on the wrong day, but I don't think so. The article had plenty of quotes by women, but no pictures. Even the good guys do it: a recent New York Times editorial by Nicholas Kristoff spoke about the current religious climate and referred to secular liberals and the Religious Right as if there were no other categories. Last April's huge March for Women's Lives in Washington, D.C., was another example of the contested territory of faith in the mainstream press. The Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice was a major player in the March. Along with others from the Episcopal Church, I was present. I can assure you that those who were against our participation let us know and were visible in the media. But the mainstream press gave the religious voice for choice little coverage, and what was there was not on the front page. One reason for this invisibility, I think, is language -- which I am not really anxious to relinquish. The feminist voice -- or at least the one I hope for -- does it differently. Patriarchy looks for heroes and villains. Feminism, I hope, builds a movement across many lines, encouraging all voices to have a say. It is a slower process and does not make such a splash. And it lives in the tension of Audre Lorde's warning that "you cannot dismantle the master's house with the master's tools." Then how do we do it? We have to find the tools not only for speaking among ourselves, but also for getting heard in the wider world. For women of faith it means speaking out of a conviction that our faith undergirds and encourages a public voice. Some years ago, Constance Buchanan at the Ford Foundation wrote a book called Choosing to Lead. In it she spoke of many religious women who at the turn of the 20th century and in the early feminist movement chose to act publicly for women's suffrage because being faithful to their religious beliefs called them to do so. We have much to thanks them for. In the intervening years, faith and the public arena has become too much the purview of the Religious Right. Those of other positions have too often retreated to private closets. My hope is that the numbers of women of faith present at the UNCSW were a sign of hope that new voices will be heard in this contested arena -- so that the so-called women's issues (like education and health care) will no longer be sidelined, but will move from the margins to the center, from contested territory to mainstream. [Ed. Note: This article is based on a presentation delivered on March 2, 2005, at the U.N. Church Center in New York City, during a forum titled "Women's Voices: Contested Territory -- Who Speaks for Women? Public Policy and Why It Matters."] |