Showing posts with label Mary Daly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Daly. Show all posts

Friday, June 3, 2011

Mentors in My Life

When I told people that I had a woman priest in my teenage years in Hong Kong, they were very surprised. That was back in the 1960s!

Deacon Hwang Hsien-yuin was the vicar of my church even before she became one of two women officially ordained in the Anglican Communion in November 1971. Rev. Hwang was an educator and a priest, and she was the principal of a primary school, while serving as the head of my church. Born into a privileged family, Deacon Hwang received her college education in China and obtained a Master’s degree at Columbia University. This was rare for women of her generation.

I was a youth leader of my church and sang in the choir for our 8 a.m. morning service. After the service and before choir practice, Deacon Hwang would come to lead a short devotion. It was during these short devotions that I first heard a feminist interpretation of the Bible. As she struggled to be ordained as a woman priest, she discussed with us the meaning of ministry and God’s calling to both women and men to serve.

I had a desire to know more about Christian faith while serving in the church. I fondly remember it was Dr. Philip Shen’s three lectures on theology that opened my eyes to the breadth and depth of the Christian tradition. Dr. Shen was a professor in the Department of Religion and Philosophy at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. He taught courses on Christian classics and philosophy of religion, and was a keen promoter of general education in higher education. In addition, he was a well-known creator of origami.

As a graduate of the Divinity School at the University of Chicago, he had received a broad-based theological training. When I left Hong Kong to begin my doctoral studies at Harvard Divinity School, Dr. Shen told me not to hurry back and to take my time. He knew more than I did at the time that education of a person is a very long process.

I had the fortune of meeting Professor Letty Russell in Korea the year before I went to the United States for doctoral work. She was invited to deliver a series of lectures on feminist theology in Seoul and I was invited as her respondent. Letty became a mentor, colleague, and friend. Letty, Katie Geneva Cannon, Ada María Isasi-Díaz, and I co-edited the volume Inheriting Our Mothers’ Gardens.

Letty was a keenest supporter and promoter of generations of Third World and racial and ethnic minority women theologians. Many scholars can recount stories of how Letty has helped them in their personal and professional journeys.

It was at Letty and her partner Shannon Clarkson’s home that a small gathering of Asian and Asian American women in theology and ministry was held in the fall of 1984. Letty and Shannon called together several Asian women students studying theology on the East coast and ministers. The network that later became Pacific, Asian, and North American Asian Women in Theology and Ministry (PANAAWTM) was born.

For 12 years, Letty and Shannon served as the network’s advisors, raising and managing funds for us. In 1997 when the Asian and Asian American advisors took over the responsibilities, we had a farewell party for them. I told Letty that it was from her that I learned how to become a mentor, modeling after her example.

During my graduate studies, I had the privilege of studying with Professors Mary Daly and Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza. I took a course with Mary Daly soon after her book Pure Lust was published and she used the book as a primary text. The class was small and Daly was famous for “not allowing” men in her classes. From her I learned that women had to learn to think independently outside the “sacred canopy”—the male church hierarchy, androcentric regimes of knowledge, and the male reward system.

Daly’s image of life “on the boundary” became a constant reminder of never submitting to the temptation of “fitting in.” Later when I became interested in postcolonial studies, Daly’s teaching has prepared me to think in the “in-between” spaces. Although I have criticized Daly’s work, my respect for her as a pioneer, trail-blazer, and a fierce fighter for truth is enormous. She also taught me that scholarship can be done with a lot of passion and humor.

Elisabeth was teaching at the Episcopal Divinity School when I took her course on Gospel Stories of Women. Her book In Memory of Her was published a few years ago and quickly became a must-read for women in divinity schools. As women were fighting against male systems of knowing and scholarship, some had misgivings about Elisabeth’s book as it is so dense and with so many footnotes. When I discussed this with Elisabeth, she said that she had worries about who would read her book. The male establishment would not take it seriously and the women would find it too hard. But she said, liberating scholarship is liberating. Women have not been encouraged to develop ourselves to be scholars, and we have to claim back the power to become theological subjects.

I went to Elisabeth’s office for my first appointment with her. She listened to the theological project I was interested in pursuing. Some 25 years after, I still remember the advice she has given me. She told me my work would need three paradigm shifts: from male to female, from West to Asia, and from privileged women to poor women. I did not fully anticipate the process of decolonizing of mind that these paradigm shifts would require and that this would be a life-long work.

I am a faculty member of the Asian Theological Summer Institute, held this week at the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. This Institute provides mentoring and support for Asian and Asian American doctoral students in the United States and Canada. Yesterday during a seminar, I heard myself telling the students that they had to go through multiple paradigm shifts in their work. And I remember I first heard this from Elisabeth.

Learning takes place in a matrix of relationships, as my former student Alan Hesse has said. I am very privileged and fortunate to have many mentors who have accompanied me in my long journey to become a scholar. I came from a family of modest means and my parents were farmers from China. Without the help of others who have recognized that I might have something to contribute, I would never have been able to dream of who and what I can become. I am full of gratitude to my mentors and teachers and I hope to pass on the wisdom I have learned to others.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Top 5 Funniest Theological/Biblical Works


Theology—God-talk—is often heavy, serious, and pretentious. Often too long-winded (Thomas’ Summa) and dry (Barth’s Church Dogmatics).

Yet occasionally there are some gems that cause a good laugh. Have you read something humorous and witty lately? I’d love to hear them.

Here is my list of top 5 funniest works by theologians and biblical scholars:

1. Stephen D. Moore, “Ugly Thought: On the Face and Physique of the Historical Jesus,” in Biblical Studies/Cultural Studies: The Third Sheffield Colloquium

Moore is a rare biblical scholar who has the skills to write fiction. He pokes fun at the covers of the books on the historical Jesus.

“Many of us have joined that manhunt for the Jew of Nazareth, many more of us cheering or yelling obscenities from the sidelines. Startled eyes turn as the hysterical Jesus suspects are dragged into the church by the triumphant band of scholars. To the dubious congregation in the pews, each Jesus seems more unlikely than the last. 'Did you at any time claim to be the Christ, the Son of the living God?' each is asked in turn. 'I did not,' most of them reply.”

2. Gale A. Yee, “‘Oooooh, Onan!’: Geschlechtsgeschicte and Women in the Biblical World,” in Are We Amused? Humour About Women in the Biblical World

This one is rated PG-13—parents strongly cautioned, lest you have to explain to your child what did Onan do.

To avoid onanism, one conservative pundit instructs:
1. Never touch the intimate parts of your body excerpt during normal toilet processes.
2. Avoid being alone as much as possible.
3. Wear pajamas that are difficult to open, yet loose and not binding.
4. In very severe cases, it may be necessary to tie a hand to the bed frame.

3. Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology

She would surely win the Most Daring Theologian Award, if there were one. For her the greatest sin of a theologian is to be dull.

She creates a whole new vocabulary for theology: the G-spot, French kissing God, Bi/Christ, dis-grace, queer God, and the like. She invites us to lift up the skirt of Jesus and see what is there.

4. Mary Daly, Pure Lust

Arguably the most witty and sharp-tongued feminist philosopher. Her ability to make fun of Christian symbols, doctrines, and the church was legendary.

“Vice [from the Latin vitis, vine], then, can Name the characteristic spiral pattern of biophilic movement, of growth.”

“Thus lust is pure in the sense that it is characterized by unmitigated malevolence. It is pure in the sense that it is ontologically evil.”

5. Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies
I know, I know, she is not a theologian. Don’t be a snob. Isn’t she funny?

“looking back on the God my friend believed in, he seems a little erratic, not entirely unlike her father—God as borderline personality.”

Now, please help to make the list up to 10, or more.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

How to Read a Theological Book


As theological educators, we want to help students to develop critical theological thinking. Let me offer some hints on how to read a theological book:

· When you read a theology book, instead of nodding, shake your head. Don’t give consent to the author too easily.

· Don’t assume the author has you in mind. Then you will see Anselm, Calvin, or Tillich were writing for a different audience and context.

· Try to see the forest and not just the trees. Let me teach you some Chinese and you'll get it. Forest looks like 森, and a tree is 木.

· A picture is worth 1,000 words. Some people will benefit from something like a concept map.

· After reading, put down the book, summarize the main arguments in your own words. If you can’t do this, that means you haven’t grasped it yet. Re-read.

· Ask who is missing from the conversation? While you can’t expect the author to speak for the poor, the blind, your next-door neighbor, the girl with a tattoo, and everyone else, you want to ask what are the voices missing.

· Set up a debate with a friend or in your own head, e.g. I asked the students to debate whether Christ is Black when reading James Cone.

· If you don’t understand, take a break. Your mind might be constipated. Poke somebody on Facebook, tweet, and have coffee.

· Laugh Out Loud. This is a strategy taught by Mary Daly. Ask many early feminists. This was how they survived seminary.

· Create your own index. The indexer of the book might not have your interest in mind. Note down the concepts important to you and page numbers.

· Buy the book. This is not to fatten the publishing houses. Having the book means you can underline, draw droodles, and stick colored tapes on it.

· Stretch the ideas to the limit. This one is from Gayatri Spivak. This is how she can be a feminist, Marxist, and poststructuralist at the same time.

· Plot a different itinerary. Also from Spivak. Trace the itinerary of the author’s thought and plot a different one.

· Invite yourself to the table. What would you say to the author if you meet her? What are the questions you want to ask?