Patriarchy:
A system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it.
A system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it.
(כז) וַיִּבְרָ֨א אֱלֹקִ֤ים ׀ אֶת־הָֽאָדָם֙ בְּצַלְמ֔וֹ בְּצֶ֥לֶם אֱלֹקִ֖ים בָּרָ֣א אֹת֑וֹ זָכָ֥ר וּנְקֵבָ֖ה בָּרָ֥א אֹתָֽם׃
(27) And God created man in God's image, in the image of God created him; male and female He created them.
יְהוָה֙ כַּגִּבּ֣וֹר יֵצֵ֔א כְּאִ֥ישׁ מִלְחָמ֖וֹת יָעִ֣יר קִנְאָ֑ה יָרִ֙יעַ֙ אַף־יַצְרִ֔יחַ עַל־אֹיְבָ֖יו יִתְגַּבָּֽר׃ (ס)
The LORD goes forth like a warrior, Like a fighter He whips up His rage. He yells, He roars aloud, He charges upon His enemies.
הֶחֱשֵׁ֙יתִי֙ מֵֽעוֹלָ֔ם אַחֲרִ֖ישׁ אֶתְאַפָּ֑ק כַּיּוֹלֵדָ֣ה אֶפְעֶ֔ה אֶשֹּׁ֥ם וְאֶשְׁאַ֖ף יָֽחַד׃
“I have kept silent far too long, Kept still and restrained Myself; Now I will scream like a woman in labor, I will pant and I will gasp.
Elizabeth Childs Kelly: If God is Gender-Fluid, Why Not Call Her a She?
If God really contains both genders, then why is it considered “normal” to only discuss the male version of Him? The word God itself is typically understood to refer to a male; even my Webster’s Dictionary says so. Why is it so rare that we talk about God specifically as a She?
I’ve known many people who can readily embrace the concept of God as genderless but suddenly get squeamish, uncomfortable, or even outright dismissive when asked to think about God as a Goddess or “Her.” For example, I have a Christian friend who told me recently that while she always refers to God as “He,” God is probably both genders, anyway. No matter that my friend belonged to a church that would never refer to God as a “She” — Her inclusion is implied, so we don’t even have to name it, right?
How many names for Divinity are there? Do the names for God change? Ought they change as humans evolve and as circumstances of life change around us? Do we have permission — and maybe a serious responsibility — to change our understanding and naming of God as we mature as individuals and as we face a critical time, a “turning time,” in human and planetary history?
Yes — and referring to God as “Her” or Goddess or by any of her many Her-storical names, such as Asherah, the Lady, Black Madonna, Isis, Kali, or so many others, is an excellent place to start. For the record, Matthew Fox agrees — his 89 words for God include 13 he specifically identifies as female, plus another 10 whose origins lie with ancient Goddess traditions.
But back to Rabbi Sameth’s original point: is God indeed gender-fluid? I suspect anyone who’s had an authentic spiritual experience, whether through meditation, worship, dance, yoga, or simply being quiet in nature, would say, “yes — and then some.”
God / Goddess / Source / Universe / Great Spirit surpasses all our feeble human attempts at labels. And yet here we are, in our feeble human bodies, with our meager language, attempting to describe the indescribable.
Limitations of language aside, if we truly want to embrace the awesome expansiveness of the Divine, we can begin by fully acknowledging that religion has been a primary driver of inequality, abuse, and misogynistic thinking for millennia. We can have honest, heartfelt conversations about how this reality affected — infected — the self-esteem of my female ancestors, and how it is still plaguing the self-esteem of women and little girls today. We can also talk about how this loss of the Sacred Feminine has shortchanged our men, our little boys, and poisoned the entire planet.
We can step outside of the boxes drawn for us by patriarchal traditions and begin to explore the wisdom traditions that have been labeled for us as inferior, blasphemous, or wrong. Shamanism, nature-based traditions, the wisdom of indigenous peoples… all of these have much to teach us, especially at this particular moment in time. We can also explore the rich body of evidence demonstrating the pre-patriarchal prevalence of the Divine Feminine.
If God really contains both genders, then why is it considered “normal” to only discuss the male version of Him? The word God itself is typically understood to refer to a male; even my Webster’s Dictionary says so. Why is it so rare that we talk about God specifically as a She?
I’ve known many people who can readily embrace the concept of God as genderless but suddenly get squeamish, uncomfortable, or even outright dismissive when asked to think about God as a Goddess or “Her.” For example, I have a Christian friend who told me recently that while she always refers to God as “He,” God is probably both genders, anyway. No matter that my friend belonged to a church that would never refer to God as a “She” — Her inclusion is implied, so we don’t even have to name it, right?
How many names for Divinity are there? Do the names for God change? Ought they change as humans evolve and as circumstances of life change around us? Do we have permission — and maybe a serious responsibility — to change our understanding and naming of God as we mature as individuals and as we face a critical time, a “turning time,” in human and planetary history?
Yes — and referring to God as “Her” or Goddess or by any of her many Her-storical names, such as Asherah, the Lady, Black Madonna, Isis, Kali, or so many others, is an excellent place to start. For the record, Matthew Fox agrees — his 89 words for God include 13 he specifically identifies as female, plus another 10 whose origins lie with ancient Goddess traditions.
But back to Rabbi Sameth’s original point: is God indeed gender-fluid? I suspect anyone who’s had an authentic spiritual experience, whether through meditation, worship, dance, yoga, or simply being quiet in nature, would say, “yes — and then some.”
God / Goddess / Source / Universe / Great Spirit surpasses all our feeble human attempts at labels. And yet here we are, in our feeble human bodies, with our meager language, attempting to describe the indescribable.
Limitations of language aside, if we truly want to embrace the awesome expansiveness of the Divine, we can begin by fully acknowledging that religion has been a primary driver of inequality, abuse, and misogynistic thinking for millennia. We can have honest, heartfelt conversations about how this reality affected — infected — the self-esteem of my female ancestors, and how it is still plaguing the self-esteem of women and little girls today. We can also talk about how this loss of the Sacred Feminine has shortchanged our men, our little boys, and poisoned the entire planet.
We can step outside of the boxes drawn for us by patriarchal traditions and begin to explore the wisdom traditions that have been labeled for us as inferior, blasphemous, or wrong. Shamanism, nature-based traditions, the wisdom of indigenous peoples… all of these have much to teach us, especially at this particular moment in time. We can also explore the rich body of evidence demonstrating the pre-patriarchal prevalence of the Divine Feminine.
Suckling at My Mother's Breasts by Ellen Davina Haskell
God-dess in Judaism
Jill Hammer challenges the features of traditional Jewish conceptions of God by creating a relatable deity, a Goddess, for those who cannot relate to “God.” The Goddess is nondual, panentheist, and earthbound. Hammer describes the Goddess as both a person and in an impersonal form of nature.[16] While she privileges the imagelessness that allows for a God beyond gender, she honors all framings and diverse experiences and visualizations of the Goddess. Julia Watts-Belser also discusses God/dess’ gender. Like Hammer, Watts-Belser celebrates diversity of experiences and conceptions of God, stating that “She was none of that and all of it,” demonstrating also panentheist notions.[17] Watts-Belser visualizes a “trans God/dess…characterized by fluidity, a shifting nature that refuses to resolve itself into a single manifestation or gender expression.”[18] This God/dess would allow the Jewish tradition to reclaim the female divinity it was denied rather than replace God with Goddess.[19] In order to do so, she wants to utilize the Shekhinah, God’s feminine side. She concludes that God is ultimately beyond gender since gender is a social construction and therefore insignificant. However, because gender does matter so much in our society, God’s gender does and should matter to us.[20]
Jill Hammer challenges the features of traditional Jewish conceptions of God by creating a relatable deity, a Goddess, for those who cannot relate to “God.” The Goddess is nondual, panentheist, and earthbound. Hammer describes the Goddess as both a person and in an impersonal form of nature.[16] While she privileges the imagelessness that allows for a God beyond gender, she honors all framings and diverse experiences and visualizations of the Goddess. Julia Watts-Belser also discusses God/dess’ gender. Like Hammer, Watts-Belser celebrates diversity of experiences and conceptions of God, stating that “She was none of that and all of it,” demonstrating also panentheist notions.[17] Watts-Belser visualizes a “trans God/dess…characterized by fluidity, a shifting nature that refuses to resolve itself into a single manifestation or gender expression.”[18] This God/dess would allow the Jewish tradition to reclaim the female divinity it was denied rather than replace God with Goddess.[19] In order to do so, she wants to utilize the Shekhinah, God’s feminine side. She concludes that God is ultimately beyond gender since gender is a social construction and therefore insignificant. However, because gender does matter so much in our society, God’s gender does and should matter to us.[20]
The Goddess as Metaphoric Image by Nelle Morton
Weaving the Visions by Judith Plaskow and Carol Christ
