Jesus

The Marien Revelation

admin — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Miguel Santana's latest book, The Marien Revelation, which he simultaneously wrote in both English and Spanish, is not your Sunday School version of the Gospels. The reader picks up on that almost immediately when confronted with the two verses preceding the Prologue, regarding the evening before Jesus was arrested: the Secret Gospel of Mark and Mark 14:51-52.

These verses, mind you, precede a chapter wherein a Jesus-in-the-process-of-being-crucified recounts his experiences with a male lover whilst forsaking god: "Oh Father, how I begged you to stay away from me."

Thus does Santana present the reader with the first storyline, that of Mary and her son, Jesus. Jesus' request on the cross resonates throughout the book, especially when interwoven with the parallel story of the modern-day woman, Marien Valbuena, a "radical feminist" theologian who is in an abusive relationship with a former Catholic priest and who was sexually abused by her Mormon father.

It is always bold to revisit "the untouchable paradigms of our western civilization," as Santana refers to them, and infuse them with circumstances that are highly controversial. Undoubtedly, and unfortunately, critics will reject this book without reading it, because of the audacious idea that Jesus might have had a male lover. Yet, Santana's book, far from being a gimmick, is a beautiful combination of intellect, poetry, emotion, and re-contextualized passages of the Bible and other sacred/mythical texts.

From a feminist perspective, the divine feminine is fully present in Santana's Mary and, indeed, many elements of the novel reject an (arguably Judeo-Christian) obtrusive, authoritative god/father who imposes himself on unwilling humans. Mary, as a teacher of the Isis Mysteries, is at least as divine as her son in a world in which multiple mythologies co-exist and influence one another. Indeed, although the disciples venerate Mary for being the vessel from which Jesus was born, her aunt also baptizes her in the name of the Holy Mother, Isis, saying: "I'm Isis, sovereign of the world, the one who set forth laws and set what cannot be changed...I'm the queen of the rivers, the wind, and the sea. I'm the Lady of War, the Lady of Thunder. I have conquered destiny. Destiny obeys me. Blessed is Egypt, for it sustains me." Although, afterward, Mary confesses to having visions of sadness from Isis, perhaps signaling the coming of the male monotheistic god who will "reign over" her.

Within the interwoven Mary/Marien stories are many layers and interpretations. The two protagonists have much in common, despite the roughly 2000 years that separate them. They both want more than the "subjection and motherhood" that their birth religions require of them. And, presenting Mary as a mother who is both aware and accepting of Jesus' sexuality, Santana gives us a progressive model of ancient motherhood. Although, if Jesus took a male lover, what devout mother could be anything but accepting? Perhaps that is part of the conversation Santana was trying to stimulate.

To end, the novel is not linear, parts of it are ambiguous, and the shifts in point of view can be confusing at times. But in Santana's hands, the novel manages to come together in a coherent, lyrical revelation that is, perhaps most importantly, a personal one.

Written by: Fannie @ Fannie's Room, April 16th 2010

Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical

admin — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 17:01:00 +0000

Edited by Hannah Faith Notess

Cascade Books

Jesus Girls is a truly beautiful array of humbling feelings and bittersweet experiences, from fears of generational sin to tales of exchanging the pants off your own body with those from a hitchhiker. Divided into sections—community, worship, education, gender and sex, and story and identity—many of the stories were first printed in publications like Geez Magazine. To be clear, the writers are both reformed Christians and current believers.

Trained to tell the story of one’s life as personal “testimony,” editor Hannah Faith Notess instead describes her “un-testimony”—a reverse conversion of sorts, though admittedly usually a less linear, much more complicated, character-filled than a come-to-Jesus testament of personal awakening. Notess explains that whereas Jesus and your sinning self are the primary roles in evangelical conversion narratives, experiences of conversation—in either direction—never happen in a vacuum and are often heavily influenced by our own church communities.

Notess also made a special point to emphasize women’s voices in this collection. “Even in evangelical circles that approve of women’s leadership, it seems, too often women are only called upon to speak on ‘women’s issues,’” she explains. She also points out that in many evangelical traditions, women are taught to be silence in church congregations, even while their testimonies are often just as—if not more—powerful than men’s stories of conversation and salvation.

The collection is based largely on stories of North American evangelism, and while many types of evangelical congregations are not included, that is hardly a weakness of this book. Some of the stories are more interesting or personally relevant than others, and some—like Anastasia McAteer’s “Exorcizing the Spirit” or an essay about swimming lessons—are admittedly startling amidst tales of DC Talk CDs, test-run mission trips to India, and those stiff paper candle skirts that catch candle wax. Perhaps because accounts relating to gift subscriptions to Brio magazine and Jack Chick comics so excite me, a few of the more serious accounts failed to seize me altogether.

Several of the accounts feature women under ten regularly choosing to accept Jesus into their hearts or experience voluntary baptism. As someone who did both of these things during the same developmental periods of my life, these stories were comforting in the normalcy. There are also stories of a different kind of acceptance, like protestant Angie Romines’ desire to be in her story’s namesake, the “Catholic club,” or Kirsten Cruzen’s story of surviving life as a child of missionaries—“a missionary kid, an MK.”

Most comforting for an agnostic such as myself—if also most disturbing—are stories of early confusion, like Shari MacDonald Strong’s account of her inability to grasp women’s supposed original sin at only five years of age. Despite her love of greater knowledge and the Bookmobile, by her teen years, she has been effectively desexualized and demoralized by her church. Later, codependent and abusive relationships stem from so little self-esteem, personal empowerment, and knowledge of the opposite sex. No doubt many feminists who grew up in a church—myself among them—have had to navigate similar quandaries.

Some essays offer engaging, seemingly unintentional contrast as well. Stephanie Trombari details her battles with mental illness that led her to Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship, a “tent revival meets United Nations” faith healing community. And in Carla-Elaine Johnson’s “Family Time,” nurse-type attendants standing around the sanctuary to take care of anyone who “fell out” during rhythmic “stomping.” Depending on whom you believe, faith will either make you collapse or find true healing in concepts like “emotional health gospel.”

One writer tells of having an abortion at nineteen, a devastating event that nevertheless made her move “from pro-life or pro-forgiveness.” After living through myriad scandals including adultery, suicide, and her church splitting in two, unable to choose one of two pastors, Paula Carter writes, “I worry that people who grow up in the church learn to deny their own humanity.” It became clear to her that the church people were simply unable to live up to their own standards. With a bittersweet sentiment that made me laugh out loud, Carter wrote, “It is hard for me even now to reconcile the expectations of church and the reality of being alive.”

From the very real experience of being called to ordination to the confusions of the trappings of faith—as in, the belief that the right music and the right books will yield a saved self—Jesus Girls is a joyous, if sometimes harrowing, exploration of what it means to grow up female, evangelical—and sometimes, even feminist.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, January 1st 2010

Christotainment: Selling Jesus through Popular Culture

admin — Sat, 23 May 2009 18:11:00 +0000

Edited by Shirley Steinberg, Joe Kincheloe

Westview Press

For years now, “Bible-thumping ideology” has clashed with a mainstream popular culture that seems to stand for everything fundamentalist Christians oppose. That is, however, until fundamentalist Christians discovered how they could harness the power of popular culture to sell their own messages of purity, penance, and prayer.

This is where Shirley Steinberg and Joe Kincheloe’s anthology Christotainment: Selling Jesus through Popular Culture begins. Christotainment looks at how conservative Christians have sold movies, NASCAR, music, toys, and even talking vegetables—and, in the process, peddled their own ideologies and values to a blossoming market of believers. Chapters dissect the social, cultural and political identities afforded to members of the “Christotainment” community, as well as the implications of turning faith into a commodity that one can purchase on DVD or wear as a shirt.

“Christotainment” is also approached as a political movement. Joshua Newman and Michael Giardina’s chapter “Onward Christian Drivers” examines how the Republican Party harnessed the loyal fan base of the “NASCAR nation” to win votes that propelled Republicans to massive victories in 2000 and 2004. Later, the politicization of faith is discussed within the context of censorship and the war against rock music. Through these, the authors suggest that the “ever ready army of right-wing Christian fanatics and demagogic populists” nurtured by “Christotainment” promote intolerance and threaten democratic ideals.

Like all good anthologies, Christotainment tackles a core issue from several different perspectives and engages a variety of audiences in the process. Ultimately, the critical lens they use to explore “Christotainment” may turn off those who are already a part of the “Christotainment” culture. However, their scholarly examination of the ramifications associated with the commercialization of faith remains sensibly balanced with enough cultural vignettes to keep it accessible and interesting to all readers.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, May 23rd 2009

The Book of Mary

admin — Tue, 02 Jan 2007 13:38:00 +0000

By Gail Sidonie Sobat

Sumach Press

Initially, this novel annoyed me. It begins with the story of Mary at the age of 14. She is of marriageable age, but she is a willful girl who is not only literate, but a teenager with ideas of her own. She sneaks out at night, and catches the eye of a young man named Jeremiah at a brothel, where she is allowed to dance. Joseph is there, too, and he has his eye on Mary, but she finds him to be dull. Mary and Jeremiah fall in love, and Mary gets pregnant. She then finds that Jeremiah is a rogue. Undaunted and ever resourceful, Mary saves both herself and the baby by concocting a wild lie about being visited by an angel who tells her that she is to give birth to Yahweh’s son. Joseph, who by now has already asked for her hand, is not fooled, but he is easily dominated, and so he goes along with the lie. Her parents, though devout Jews, do as well. And so Mary is married to Joseph, and he takes her to Bethlehem on a camel’s back. You may know rest.

Mary reminds me too much of a stereotype in the beginning. It is a story of a girl becoming a woman and coming into her own, refusing to buckle before authority, no matter how harsh and domineering that authority might be. Sobat repeatedly reminds us that in Mary’s day, women were stoned on a routine basis. This is, in theory, what kindles Mary’s crazy story about a virginal conception. What is so hard to believe, however, is that she actually gets away with it, or with the pseudo hospital and spiritual home for women that she supposedly builds, and which survives, despite the harsh patriarchal rule of law. However, the more I read, the more entranced I became. Sobat is a good story teller, and her Mary becomes a character that it is hard not to fall in love with. And the fact that Sobat comes up with her own version of the story told for 2,000 years becomes rather fascinating. We all know how this one is going to end. But it is the question of what happens to Mary, not to Jesus, that kept this reader turning the page.

Written by: Susan Melinda Dunlap, January 2nd 2007

The Secret Magdalene

admin — Mon, 01 Jan 2007 18:07:00 +0000

By Ki Longfellow

Crown Publishers

Although the daughter of a privileged affluent Jewish aristocrat, Mariamne is unable to overtly display her love of learning as females do not obtain a formal education. Thus, she secretly studies whatever she, her personal slave, Tata, or her father’s ward, Salome, can borrow books without anyone knowing. After becoming ill, she began hearing voices in her head that she assumed were prophecies even as she fully recovers from her ailment. When her father catches Salome alone with a young male guest and no escort, he becomes irate and tosses her out with nothing except the clothes that she is wearing. Though he has no evidence of violation except a nebulous guilt by association, he also accuses his daughter of the same outrageous behavior and exiles her to his brother-in-law’s house with an admonishment to never see Salome again. Instead Mariamne and Salome, dressed as men, run off to Alexandria, where they study in the library. Eventually Salome meets John the Baptizer while Mariamne finds herself attracted to Yeshu. The latter two share a love and the premonition of the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. Providing a female perspective to the birth, death and rebirth of Jesus, readers see a unique viewpoint from that of The Secret Magdalene. Mariamne and Salome are terrific protagonists, who, aside from a retelling of the major events in Jesus’ life, enable the audience to obtain a look at the restricted lifestyle of even a wealthy female in the Holy Land. Though the action is limited, readers who want to a wider feminist glimpse of the last days will want to read Ki Longfellow’s fascinating biblical tale.

Written by: Harriet Klausner, January 1st 2007