Religious Studies

Balancing yoga traditions with modern wellness requires flexibility

Anonymous — Fri, 20 Sep 2024 20:28:37 +0000

Balancing yoga traditions with modern wellness requires flexibility Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 09/20/2024 - 14:28

Cody DeBos

CU Boulder scholar Loriliai Biernacki reflects on the differences between ancient yoga and yoga as it’s practiced today during Yoga Awareness Month

As yoga enthusiasts across the country celebrate Yoga Awareness Month in September, it’s difficult to ignore how much the practice has evolved—especially in the West. Yoga, born as a spiritual and meditative practice rooted in centuries-old Indian traditions, has become a global phenomenon often centered on physical health and wellness.

A 2022 study by the Centers for Disease Control found that almost 17% of U.S. adults 18 or older had practiced yoga in the preceding 12 months, and about 57% of those who did incorporated meditation into their practice.

But even when it incorporates meditation and other mindfulness practices, how closely does modern yoga resemble the practice that was born millennia ago in India? Loriliai Biernacki, a University of Colorado Boulder professor of religious studies who teaches a course called Yoga: Ancient and Modern, notes that what is taught in studios now may bear varying degrees of resemblance to yoga’s origins.

Loriliai Biernacki, a CU Boulder professor of religious studies, notes that what is taught in studios now may bear varying degrees of resemblance to yoga’s origins.

Mental mastery to physical wellness

Yoga’s traditional roots go far beyond the stretches and poses seen in most local studios and fitness centers today. According to Biernacki, the earliest yoga practitioners focused on mental mastery and spiritual growth. Historical documents also point to beliefs that accomplished “yogis” could acquire magical powers to read another person’s mind or transform objects.

“The goals are essentially what we might think of as enlightenment,” Biernacki explains, “with the terms ‘mokṣha,’ ‘kaivalya,’ and ‘nirvāṇa,’” which are Sanskrit words that describe yoga’s founding ideals of liberation, detachment and karmic release.

In its original context, yoga emphasized learning to control the mind and finding peace rather than achieving physical fitness.

As described in the Sir Edward Arnold translation of the Bhagavad Gita, the yogi is one who:

Sequestered should he sit,
Steadfastly meditating, solitary,
His thoughts controlled, his passions laid away,
Quit of belongings. In a fair, still spot
Having his fixed abode,--not too much raised,
Nor yet too low,--let him abide, his goods
A cloth, a deerskin, and the Kusa-grass.
There, setting hard his mind upon The One,
Restraining heart and senses, silent, calm,
Let him accomplish Yoga, and achieve
Pureness of soul, holding immovable
Body and neck and head…

However, modern yoga, especially as practiced in the West, has shifted its priorities.

“Yoga practice today is very much focused on bodily health if one goes to a studio to practice yoga,” Biernacki notes. Poses, or āsanas, are now central to most yoga classes, and the practice is commonly associated with physical wellness, flexibility and relaxation.

“Āsana is not something we find in yoga as a practice in the early part of the first millennium, but by about the 12th century or so, we do begin to see an incursion of emphasis on a variety of different bodily postures in the practice of yoga,” Biernacki explains.

This shift is no accident. Commercialization has played a significant role in transforming yoga from a spiritual journey into a global wellness trend. Biernacki points to the influence of marketing and the rise of yoga as a booming industry as key factors driving this shift.

“Of course, commercialization has played an outsized role. A great resource on this score is Andrea Jain’s book on yoga transformation in the modern period, Selling Yoga,” she says.

While physical health is undoubtedly valuable, evolving goals raise the question of whether modern yoga has strayed too far from its roots. The answer may lie in how individuals choose to practice yoga and whether there is room to reconnect with its original mental and spiritual aspects, Biernacki says.

The Pashupati Seal, dated to about 2500 BCE and discovered in 1928 in the Mohenjo-daro area of what is now Pakistan, is considered one of the first yogic depictions. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

Appropriation or evolution?

As yoga’s popularity has grown in the West, so too have discussions around cultural appropriation. Some question whether certain modern adaptations of yoga—those that have been commercialized or stripped of their spiritual components—disrespect the practice’s origins.

Biernacki says she believes the issue isn’t black and white: “It’s probably a mix of cultural appropriation and some modicum of paying homage to the insight and wisdom that we find in these traditions of yoga.”

On one hand, the commercialization of yoga can lead to a superficial understanding of a practice with centuries of spiritual depth, she says. Western yoga classes and studio branding may use terms like namaste or chakra without studying their spiritual significance.

On the other hand, Biernacki notes that some modern yoga instructors do attempt to preserve the roots of the practice. “I do find it interesting that there are a number of teachers who are, in fact, emphasizing connecting yoga with its literary roots in a way that does take the history of yoga seriously,” she says. “Especially popular is the classic text ‘Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtra,’ which is keyed into yoga as a way of mastering the mind.”

Ultimately, the question of cultural appropriation depends on how individuals and studios approach the practice, Biernacki says. For some, yoga may be a mindful homage that embraces historical context while adapting to modern needs. For others, yoga may simply be a brand or a lifestyle with beautiful aesthetics.

Balancing act

As yoga continues to evolve, it’s unclear whether modern adaptations will dominate or if instructors and practitioners alike will seek a return to its traditional roots. Biernacki suggests that both trends will likely coexist.

“I suspect that traditional practices will probably be more popular, but there will be some modern adaptations,” she says.

This resurgence echoes a broader cultural shift towards mindfulness, as an ever-growing body of research supports the benefits of yoga for conditions ranging from depression to back pain to cancer.

The rise of interest in traditional practices could signal a desire to reconnect with yoga’s deeper spiritual roots. Biernacki points out that many instructors already strive to bring these philosophies into their practice and remind students that yoga is about more than just physical postures.

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CU Boulder scholar Loriliai Biernacki reflects on the differences between ancient yoga and yoga as it’s practiced today during Yoga Awareness Month.

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The Exorcist maintains its terrifying staying power

Anonymous — Thu, 21 Dec 2023 19:46:38 +0000

The Exorcist maintains its terrifying staying power Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 12/21/2023 - 12:46

Bradley Worrell

The film, which turns 50 this December, continues to leave a mark on Christians and the larger American public as both a horror film and a story about the battle between good and evil

When attendees gathered last month for the annual conference of the American Academy of Religion—the largest professional association devoted to religious studies in North America—the event featured two different panel discussions related to the movie The Exorcist, which marks its 50-year anniversary this December.

That says something about both the movie’s popular appeal as well as the tremendous influence it has had on religious believers, says Deborah Whitehead, associate professor and chair of the Department of Religious Studies at the University of Colorado Boulder, whose focus includes religion and its intersection with American culture.

The Exorcist made $441 million worldwide following its Dec. 26, 1973, release and went on to receive 10 Academy Award nominations, a first for a horror movie. The movie’s influence was felt far beyond the box office, however.

Deborah Whitehead, associate professor and chair of the Department of Religious Studies at CU Boulder, studies religion and its intersection with American culture.

“The film had a big cultural impact,” Whitehead says. “In particular, it was actually very significant in influencing evangelicals’ conceptions of evil and possession.”

Recently, Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine spoke with Whitehead about what made the movie a blockbuster success upon its release, its themes of good versus evil and science versus faith and why the idea of demonic possession is much scarier than zombies or killer robots. Her answers were lightly edited for style and condensed.

Question: When The Exorcist was released in late 1973, it was a huge commercial success. Why do you think that is?

Whitehead: There are so many different angles to take on that. On the one hand, even though the director, William Friedkin, said he wasn’t making a horror movie, audiences and film scholars have classified it as a horror movie. I think that was part of its appeal. …

Another element is that Friedkin was a very famous director. He’s up in that pantheon with Francis Ford Coppola and others who are making films around this time that capture the uncertainty of the time period, of 1973. With Watergate and the Vietnam War, we’re losing faith in government and our government’s ability to make good decisions internationally and domestically. … I think there are all these ways in which the film captures the Zeitgeist of that time period.

Question: Some have pointed to the film’s underlying battle between good and evil. Do you think that played a factor as well in its appeal?

Whitehead: The religious element is the big appeal, absolutely. The film deals with these universal human questions about good versus evil and doubt versus faith.

It’s sort of science versus religion, too. The mom (in the movie) initially seeks help for her daughter by turning to science, and science fails her. They do all these really invasive, painful procedures … that really don’t help. So, she finally turns to religion out of desperation.

Of course, there’s the Catholic piece. The Catholic Church officially give the film a cautionary rating and a critical review. Protestant groups and leaders also condemned the film. But the studio and distributors viewed all of the negative publicity as a potential marketing strategy, in a kind of 'see the movie your church doesn’t want you to see' vein.

But in internal correspondence between the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, which is the national organization governing the Roman Catholic Church in the U.S., the reaction was more nuanced. Some even felt that the film could spur people to have discussions about belief and about good and evil. And faith wins in the end, so I think there was some positive sense that maybe this will spur people to rediscover what’s important about religion in a secular age.

The Exorcist film was based on the bestselling 1971 novel by William Blatty, who also wrote the film's screenplay and was its producer.

Question: Any thoughts as to whether people of faith can find value in a film like The Exorcist?

Whitehead: I would think it’s mixed. Even the author of the book, William Blatty, was really upset at the final cut of the film, because Blatty was Roman Catholic, and he was writing the book about a priest who has a crisis of faith and then overcomes that crisis of faith at the end to sacrifice himself to save this young girl. So, for him, it was really a story about the affirmation of religious belief in an uncertain world.

But the way that the director cut the film actually leaves it with a lot more ambiguity. Friedkin was a non-religious Jewish director, and he famously told Blatty, 'I'm not doing a commercial for the Catholic Church.'

That’s not what the film was about for him. He was much more interested in these deeper questions of doubt and uncertainty.

Of course, there were segments of the Christian public in the United States who were extremely critical of the film—who felt that it wasn’t portraying Catholicism or Christianity correctly. And there was a subset of the evangelical population who felt the film was dangerous because of the demonic elements.

They would never watch it, or have their kids watch it, because demons are real, and you really can get possessed by playing with a Ouija board or any number of other seemingly innocuous things that kids and adults do. It confirms for them that the world is a very dangerous place—that it’s riddled with evil, and so you want to stay away from those things. You want to stay away from films, books, games or other activities that would involve any contact with evil.

Question An Exorcist film released in October, Exorcist: Believer, featured a Catholic priest, a Baptist minister and a non-traditional religious person attempting to exorcise two demon-possessed children. So, there is a multi-cultural element in this new version?

Whitehead: I haven’t seen the new film, I should say. But I understand from reading reviews that the new film makes exorcism a much more ecumenical affair. Rather than just being the province of the Roman Catholic Church, now we’ve got Protestant clergy involved, and I think an African American traditional religious healer as well.

That’s a really interesting shift. It is suggesting that exorcism and demon possession are sort of universal in all religions. That is a very different message than the first film, where exorcism is something that exclusively belongs to the province of the Roman Catholic Church.

I think that does reflect that maybe people are more inclined today to see all religions as more fundamentally similar to each other than they were in 1973.

Question: The new movie reportedly did fairly well at the box office. One might think this topic would be of less interest today, given that younger audiences are less religious than their predecessors?

Whitehead: The way I would phrase it is not a decline of belief, but a decline of religious affiliation over time in the U.S.

A version of the film's now-iconic movie poster, originally created by graphic designer Bill Gold. (Photo: Warner Bros.)

Demographic data suggest that at least a third of all Americans are unaffiliated with a particular religious tradition, where ‘unaffiliation’ is broad enough to encompass both belief and belonging. It means that they might believe, but they don’t go to services anymore. Or it means that they may go to services, but they don’t consider themselves to belong to any one particular tradition. That number also includes atheist and agnostics and those who explicitly deny or equivocate on the question of belief. So, that’s a really big category that has increased a lot in the last 50 years.

But despite that data, we have other data which suggests that Americans are still really fascinated with the paranormal. They’re still fascinated with the idea of mystical experiences. Many Americans, including younger generations, say that they experience a sense of awe or wonder in relation to something, whether that’s nature or the cosmos or prayer.

So, what that suggests is that the capacity for belief in something that’s larger than the self or some set of forces that operate in a supernatural way outside of the realm of modern science is still there. It’s just that people aren’t looking for the answers or the framework to interpret or explain or understand those experiences in organized religion as much today as they were in the past.

Question: If you were to compare the ‘scare factor’ of demonic possession versus other movie horror tropes, like zombies or killer robots, how would they rank?

Whitehead: That’s a good question. My answer is that possession is way more terrifying than those (other) things because it’s an internal enemy.

If you’ve got zombies, killer robots, malevolent aliens, serial killers or whatever, they are entities that are outside you. But to think about an evil force that actually enters into your body and controls your mind and controls your body—that’s truly terrifying. There’s something about the idea of totally losing control of your body and your mind and giving it over to this evil force who can really command you to do whatever horrible things it wants. …

What can you do? What’s your recourse?

Question: There are reportedly two more Exorcist films in development, so it seems Hollywood believes this theme will continue to resonate with audiences?

Whitehead: Or it indicates that Hollywood is out of new ideas? (laughs) I mean, we’re so much into sequels. Oh, my gosh, all the reboots! It just seems to be really endemic in Hollywood right now.

I don’t know if it is a kind of nostalgia for what are now perceived as simpler times—even though at the time they weren’t perceived as simple. Or if it’s a lack of new ideas, or just trying to capitalize on past financial success with the hope of making more money. So, I’m not sure what the motivations are there. …

Part of the genius of the original film was: How do you sit with the ambiguity of doubt, of not having clear answers, of not knowing what to do when you are confronted with evil and suffering in the world? And the newer film doesn’t seem to be doing that. It doesn’t seem to have the same magic. It will be interesting to see if those new ones get made and what the response to them is. Or if it’s sort of like the Star Wars movies, which by the time we got to the last three, we’re all sick of it, right? We’re like, ‘Come on, stop; you’re ruining it.’

Top image: A still image of the priest in The Exorcist (Photo: Warner Bros.)

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The film, which turns 50 this December, continues to leave a mark on Christians and the larger American public as both a horror film and a story about the battle between good and evil.

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Expert explains why Mormon women embrace multi-level marketing

Anonymous — Mon, 24 Apr 2023 17:51:00 +0000

Expert explains why Mormon women embrace multi-level marketing Anonymous (not verified) Mon, 04/24/2023 - 11:51

Orla McGrath

Deborah Whitehead, associate professor of religious studies, explores connections between entrepreneurship, gender and religion among Mormons

It’s no accident that multi-level-marketing schemes are widely adopted in Mormon communities, which are tight-knit, entrepreneurial and well-trained, through missionary work, for sales.

That is the conclusion of Deborah Whitehead, associate professor of religious studies at the University of Colorado Boulder, who has written an article recently published in the journal Mormon Studies Review that traces the links between “startup culture, multi-level marketing, Mormonism and entrepreneurship.

While Whitehead cites LuLaRoe, a billion-dollar multi-level marketing (or MLM) company launched in 2013 as a primary example of this business model, she also focuses on a general examination of the connections between Latter Day Saints (LDS) theology and the “self-starter” mindset closely associated with the multi-level-marketing business model.

Deborah Whitehead has been an associate professor of religious studies at the University of Colorado since 2007.

The Federal Trade Commission defines multi-level marketing as “businesses that involve selling products to family and friends and recruiting other people to do the same.” With Utah’s high concentration of MLMs making it the “unofficial world capital of multi-level marketing,” Whitehead connects LDS church culture and self-reliance.

“Missionary training translates well into direct sales,” Whitehead writes, noting that missionaries perform door-to-door “sales” pitches and can withstand rejection. She also notes that LDS theology doesn’t demonize social media when used as a tool for “spreading the ‘good news’ about a product.”

“LDS communities tend to be tight-knit and close, so when somebody is passionate about a product, it will be easier to go into these circles and sell it,” Whitehead says. “This also applies to other kinds of media messaging or getting other people involved in your business.”

“One thing I found interesting about the women in LuLaRoe is that many wanted things not just for themselves, but also for their families. They wanted to be entrepreneurs, because they consider it part of their divinely ordained roles as wives and mothers to care for their children, and operating a business from your home enables them to achieve their financial goals while still being a stay-at-home mom,” Whitehead says, underscoring the link between theology, gender and entrepreneurship.

As an example, Whitehead details a moment from the childhood of DeAnne Stidham, one of the founders of LuLaRoe, in which Stidham’s mother returned from work and began throwing cash to her children while exclaiming, “Mom did this for you!”

This episode could be seen as both fulfilling these “divine roles,” but also a way to “justify a mother’s absence from her children while working outside of the home,” Whitehead writes, noting that remote MLM work is marketed as a solution to this problem.

While LuLaRoe showcased a particularly negative side of the monetization of religious values and entrepreneurship, Whitehead says it can be a positive thing, especially in reference to blogging: “Mormon women have used blogging to showcase their creative and practical skills, and many blogs about fashion, sewing, cooking and even resourceful food storage methods have become hugely popular and lucrative.”

While there can be a comfortable partnership between Mormonism and capitalism—it is not the only way to interpret these situations ... From another perspective, when understood correctly, this theology is supposed to keep capitalism in check—you work hard for yourself and your family, but you don’t exploit other people.”

“While there can be a comfortable partnership between Mormonism and capitalism—it is not the only way to interpret these situations,” Whitehead says. “From another perspective, when understood correctly, this theology is supposed to keep capitalism in check—you work hard for yourself and your family, but you don’t exploit other people.”

Whitehead’s interest in religious culture in the United States goes beyond startups and MLMs: “Over the last 12 years, I have developed a particular interest in religion, media and culture, and within that broad area I focus mainly on present-day U.S. religion and representations of gender,” Whitehead says.

“I have written pieces on evangelical women and mommy blogging, emergency food storage, and various other intersections of religion, gender and digital media.”

Meantime, Whitehead is working on another article about LuLaRoe, this time focusing on “the corporate feminism that is a large part of the company's rhetoric.” She is also working on a book about evangelical Christians and digital media, which is under contract with Routledge.

Deborah Whitehead, associate professor of religious studies, explores connections between entrepreneurship, gender and religion among Mormons.

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Simchat Torah: A Jewish holiday of reading, renewal and resilience

Anonymous — Fri, 14 Oct 2022 17:28:37 +0000

Simchat Torah: A Jewish holiday of reading, renewal and resilience Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 10/14/2022 - 11:28

Samuel L. Boyd

Simchat Torah is about more than beginning to read the Torah all over again. It’s about the need to reexamine what we think we know, over and over again.

Reading can cause many different emotions. For some people, beginning a new book produces excitement about where the narrative will take them. Then there’s the pleasure of the plot itself, watching how events unfold. Finally, there’s the sense of joy at the end: satisfaction, gratitude and anticipation at the prospect of beginning the journey of reading all over again.

The Jewish holiday known as Simchat Torah, which begins at sunset on Oct. 17, 2022, encompasses all these emotions. During the festival, Jews celebrate another year of reading and studying Torah: the first five books of the Bible—Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy—which, according to Jewish tradition, were divinely revealed to Moses at Mount Sinai.

As a scholar of the Bible and the ancient Near East, I am struck by the ways in which Simchat Torah cultivates a sense of humility and resilience in the midst of profound joy.

Joy of Torah

Simchat Torah is Hebrew for “the joy of Torah.” It is a celebration, often accompanied by dancing and singing, to mark the completion of the annual reading of this section of the Bible. Each week of the year, congregations around the world read a particular portion of the Torah, called a parashah, in a specified order.

At the top of the page: Simchat Torah celebrations in Netanya, Israel, in 2013 (Jack Guez/AFP via Getty Images). Above: Jewish men in Tehran, Iran, dance during Simchat Torah as one holds the covered Torah scroll (AP Photo/Vahid Salemi).

On Simchat Torah, the scrolls that contain this literature are removed from the ark, the special place where they are kept at the front of the synagogue. While one or two scrolls are taken out during readings in the usual weekly service, Simchat Torah is one of the few times of year that all the scrolls are taken out of the ark.

Celebrants circle seven—or, in some traditions, three—times around the bimah, the stage where the scrolls are read during services, while holding these scrolls and dancing. This dancing, called hakafot in Hebrew, occurs both in the evening and the morning of Simchat Torah.

In some Jewish communities, people say they become the very “feet” of the scrolls, carrying them so the scrolls themselves can participate in the dancing and joy. The rejoicing can extend into the streets.

The last liturgical section for the year is read, from the Book of Deuteronomy. During the same service the first section of the first book of the Bible, Genesis, is also read. In this fashion, Simchat Torah connects the ending of the reading cycle with the beginning of the new one.

In 2022, Simchat Torah will take place from sundown Oct. 17 to sunset Oct. 18 in most of the world, immediately after a holiday called Shemini Atzeret the day before. In Israel and for Reform Jews, however, both holidays are combined on the same day. In either case, the celebrations come on the heels of another weeklong festival called Sukkot, or the festival of booths, when Jews commemorate the ancient Israelites’ wanderings in the desert after fleeing slavery in Egypt.

Centuries of celebration

Unlike Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret, the celebration of Simchat Torah does not appear in Bible.

Aspects of divinely ordained rejoicing and regular reading of the Torah do, however, appear in the book of Deuteronomy. For example, Deuteronomy 16 commands the Israelites to “rejoice” in the festival of booths. In Deuteronomy 31, Moses commands the priests to read the law, or Torah, to all Israel during Sukkot.

The origins of the celebration of Simchat Torah as known today are likely medieval. One of the most influential compilations of Jewish laws is called the “Shulchan Aruch,” written by a 16th-century Spanish rabbi named Joseph Karo. The overall features of the holiday, or “yom tov” in Hebrew, are set forth there.

Lifelong journey

For modern Jewish thinkers, the celebration of Simchat Torah embeds some of the most profound aspects of life, including themes of humility and strength even amid suffering and a troubled world.

Simchat Torah joyously marks the end of the annual cycle of readings from the Torah (Jack Guez/AFP via Getty Images).

Writer and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, for example, saw in Simchat Torah a reminder that we never know everything, and much less than we think we know. Even for a text as familiar as the Bible, an entire lifetime of reading the Torah week after week, year after year cannot begin to yield all the possible interpretations.

So, according to Wiesel, Simchat Torah is a time to take joy not only in completing the liturgical reading cycle, but in the reminder that we always need to look again, and be willing to begin again—even stories that we think we know so well.

As Wiesel observed, this aspect of Simchat Torah could transform a person and how that person lives with others. He famously once said that “people become the stories they hear and the stories they tell.” The celebration of Simchat Torah had profound significance, in Wiesel’s view, since the very act of reading could make a better world.

Likewise, the biblical scholar Baruch Schwartz calls attention to a prayer spoken during Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, the High Holy Days, which take place weeks before Simchat Torah. The words of the prayer speak the desire for “the discernment and understanding needed in order to comprehend the Torah’s deepest mysteries.” For Schwartz, this prayer anticipates the deeper meanings of Simchat Torah, and prepares celebrants for them.

There is joy in ending and once again beginning the Torah because of its many puzzles. Bringing intellectual energy to interpreting these texts opens windows into the seemingly unending dimensions of the Bible—and also into what it means to be human. Simchat Torah underscores the importance of revisiting the familiar, and, in so doing, cultivates humility.

Reading the Bible in a world gone wrong

The biblical command to have “joy” in reading the Torah also lays a framework for resilience in the midst of troubled times. Wiesel, himself born on Simchat Torah in 1928, recounted witnessing Jews who had no Torah scrolls and lived amid unthinkable horror in a concentration camp. Yet, during Simchat Torah, one adult picked up a child and delightedly danced with him as though he were a Torah scroll.

Simchat Torah represents renewals in endings—almost as though Jewish communities are receiving the revelation from Moses again for the first time, starting with the book of Genesis.

Such a cycle is not redundant, but instead can promote resilience. As Wiesel notes, the biblical command to “rejoice” becomes the means through which tragedy can be endured—helping to explain Simchat Torah’s power and vitality today.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Simchat Torah is about more than beginning to read the Torah all over again. It’s about the need to reexamine what we think we know, over and over again.

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There is no one ‘religious view’ on abortion: A scholar of religion, gender and sexuality explains

Anonymous — Fri, 24 Jun 2022 14:22:53 +0000

There is no one ‘religious view’ on abortion: A scholar of religion, gender and sexuality explains Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 06/24/2022 - 08:22

Samira Mehta

Views on abortion differ not only among major religious traditions, but within each one

The Catholic Church’s official line on abortion, and even on any artificial birth control, is well known: Don’t do it.

Surveys of how American Catholics live their lives, though, tell a different story.

The vast majority of Catholic women have used contraceptives, despite the church’s ban. Fifty-six percent of U.S. Catholics believe abortion should be legal in all or most circumstances, whether or not they believe they would ever seek one. One in four Americans who have had abortions are Catholic, according to the Guttmacher Institute, which advocates for reproductive health.

It’s a clear reminder of the complex relationship between any religious tradition’s teachings and how people actually live out their beliefs. With the U.S. Supreme Court poised to overturn Roe v. Wade, the 1973 ruling that protects abortion rights nationwide, religious attitudes toward a woman’s right to end a pregnancy are in the spotlight. But even within one faith, there is no one religious position toward reproductive rights – let alone among different faiths.

People opposed to abortion gather at the Washington Monument during the 2017 March for Life rally in Washington, D.C. (Photo by Tasos Katopodis/AFP via Getty Images).

Christianity and conscience

As a scholar of gender and religion, I research how religious traditions shape people’s understandings of contraception and abortion.

When it comes to official stances on abortion, religions’ positions are tied to different approaches to some key theological concepts. For instance, for several religions, a key issue in abortion rights is “ensoulment,” the moment at which the soul is believed to enter the body – that is, when a fetus becomes human.

The catch is that traditions place ensoulment at different moments and give it various degrees of importance. Catholic theologians place ensoulment at the moment of conception, which is why the official position of the Catholic Church is that abortion is never permitted. From the moment the sperm meets the egg, in Catholic theology, a human exists, and you cannot kill a human, regardless of how it came to exist. Nor can you choose between two human lives, which is why the church opposes aborting a fetus to save the life of the pregnant person.

As in any faith, not all Catholics feel compelled to follow the church teachings in all cases. And regardless of whether someone thinks they would ever seek an abortion, they may believe it should be a legal right. Fifty-seven percent of U.S. Catholics say abortion is morally wrong, but 68% still support Roe v. Wade, while only 14% believe that abortion should never be legal.

Some Catholics advocate for abortion access not despite but because of their dedication to Catholic teachings. The organization Catholics for Choice describes its work as rooted in Catholicism’s emphasis on “social justice, human dignity, and the primacy of conscience” – people making their own decisions out of deep moral conviction.

Other Christians also say faith shapes their support for reproductive rights. Protestant clergy, along with their Jewish colleagues, were instrumental in helping women to secure abortions before Roe, through a network called the Clergy Consultation Service. These pro-choice clergy were motivated by a range of concerns, including desperation that they saw among women in their congregations, and theological commitments to social justice. Today, the organization still exists as the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice.

There are myriad Protestant opinions on abortion. The most conservative equate it with murder, and therefore oppose any exemptions. The most liberal Protestant voices advocate for a broad platform of reproductive justice, calling on believers to “Trust Women.”

Who is a ‘person’?

Protesters listen during the 2022 Jewish Rally for Abortion Justice in Washington, D.C. (Photo by Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images).

Muslims scholars and clerics, too, have a range of positions on abortion. Some believe abortion is never permitted, and many allow it until ensoulment, which is often placed at 120 days’ gestation, just shy of 18 weeks. In general, many Muslim leaders permit abortion to save the life of the mother, since classical Islamic law sees legal personhood as beginning at birth – though while many Muslims may seek out their religious leaders for guidance about or assistance with abortion, many do not.

Jewish tradition has a great deal of debate about when ensoulment occurs: Various rabbinic texts place it at or even before conception, and many place it at birth, but ensoulment is not as key as the legal status of the fetus under Jewish law. Generally, it is not considered to be a person. For instance, the Talmud – the main source of Jewish law – refers to the fetus as part of the mother’s body. The biblical Book of Exodus notes that if a pregnant woman is attacked and then miscarries, the attacker owes a fine but is not guilty of murder.

In other words, Jewish law protects a fetus as a “potential person,” but does not view it as holding the same full personhood as its mother. Jewish clergy generally agree that abortion is not only permitted, but mandated, to save the life of the mother, because potential life must be sacrificed to save existing life – even during labor, as long as the head has not emerged from the birth canal.

Where Jewish law on abortion gets complicated is when the mother’s life is not at risk. For example, contemporary Jewish leaders debate whether abortion is permitted if the mother’s mental health will be damaged, if genetic testing shows evidence of a nonfatal disability or if there are other compelling concerns, such as that the family’s resources would be strained too much to care for their existing children.

American Jews have generally supported legal abortion with very few restrictions, seeing it as a religious freedom issue – and a question of life versus potential life. Eighty-three percent support a woman’s right to an abortion, and while many might turn to their clergy for support in seeking an abortion, many would not see a need to.

A different view of life

As much diversity as exists in Christianity, Islam, and Judaism, there is likely even more in Hinduism, which has a range of texts, deities and worldviews. Many scholars argue that the fact so many different traditions are all lumped together under the umbrella term “Hindusim” has more to do with British colonialism than anything else.

Most Hindus believe in reincarnation, which means that while one may enter bodies with birth and leave with death, life itself does not, precisely, begin or end. Rather, any given moment in a human body is seen as part of an unending cycle of life – making the question of when life begins quite different than in Abrahamic religions.

Jizo statues sit along the Daiya River and Jiunji Temple in Nikko, Japan. (Photo by John S Lander/LightRocket via Getty Images).

Some bioethicists see Hinduism as essentially pro-life, permitting abortion only to save the life of the mother. Looking at what people do, though, rather than what a tradition’s sacred texts say, abortion is common in Hindu-majority India, especially of female fetuses.

In the United States, there are immigrant Hindu communities, Asian American Hindu communities, and people who have converted to Hinduism who bring this diversity to their approaches to abortion. Overall, however 68% say abortion should be legal in all or most cases.

Compassionate choices

Buddhists also have varied views on abortion. The Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice notes: “Buddhism, like the other religions of the world, faces the fact that abortion may sometimes be the best decision and a truly moral choice. That does not mean there is nothing troubling about abortion, but it means that Buddhists may understand that reproductive decisions are part of the moral complexity of life.”

Japanese Buddhism in particular can be seen as offering a “middle way” between pro-choice and pro-life positions. While many Buddhists see life as beginning at conception, abortion is common and addressed through rituals involving Jizo, one of the enlightened figures Buddhists call bodhisattvas, who is believed to take care of aborted and miscarried fetuses.

In the end, the Buddhist approach to abortion emphasizes that abortion is a complex moral decision that should be made with an eye toward compassion.

We tend to think of the religious response to abortion as one of opposition, but the reality is much more complicated. Formal religious teachings on abortion are complex and divided – and official positions aside, data shows that over and over, the majority of Americans, religious or not, support abortion.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Views on abortion differ not only among major religious traditions, but within each one.

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�鶹��Ժ opening doors

Anonymous — Wed, 22 Jun 2022 22:15:56 +0000

�鶹��Ժ opening doors Anonymous (not verified) Wed, 06/22/2022 - 16:15

Tim Grassley

Meet three CU Boulder students who are creating supportive, stronger communities by improving understanding, accessibility

The COVID-19 pandemic demanded that University of Colorado Boulder students change the way they interact. They took classes at home and had limited student group contact. On-campus students followed tight schedules to reduce the virus’ spread.

While the pandemic’s restrictions were isolating, students sought stronger, inclusive communities and, in many cases, used creative means to generate understanding and connection with others in need.

What follows are three profiles of CU Boulder students who strive to make their communities stronger: an anthropology PhD student who researches the experiences of people with blindness, a philosophy major who uses a website and social media to connect with fellow cancer survivors, and a graduate student in religious studies who encourages students to expand what they believe they can accomplish.

When people give you grace, in the end it motivates you.”

Blind grad student works to improve CU Boulder’s vision

Kevin Darcy grew up in blue collar, manufacturing communities in Massachusetts and Florida that valued independence and masculinity. In his junior year of high school, he lost his vision.

“For a long time, like 15 years, I had a lot of perceived and actual stigma that I internalized, and I refused to accept the idea that I was blind,” says Darcy, now a PhD student in anthropology at CU Boulder. “The way I think about it now is that, when I lost my vision, I was afraid that the image I have about myself wouldn't align with the image that other people create about me when they see me.”

At age 27, Darcy, a first-generation student, began attending Metropolitan State University in Denver and studied biological anthropology. While on a research trip to Peru his senior year, he faced the fact that his blindness would limit his ability to study historical health and disease. But that moment also opened another career path.

“I realized two things: If I stayed in biological anthropology, someone is always going to have to look over my shoulder and confirm my analysis,” Darcy says. “But I also realized that living people had a lot more to say, and they’re more fun to hang out with.”

He enrolled in a medical anthropology program at CU Denver, where he earned his master’s in anthropology. His research focused on health and the environment, as well as immigration and food systems. In 2015, Darcy enrolled in CU Boulder’s PhD program in anthropology, intending to continue studying immigration, food and the environment.

Early in his studies, he felt frustrated by implicit bias.

Kevin Darcy is a PhD student in anthropology.

“I think I was feeling the discriminatory experiences more because, as a first-generation student, I was already feeling like an outsider,” Darcy says. “Everyone seemed to know what to do as a graduate student except me.”

In 2017, Darcy nearly left the university because he had experienced several acts of overt discrimination. He was shocked to be publicly singled out for his disability. However, when he expressed his intent to leave, a faculty member and his Digital Accessibility Office supervisor offered him an opportunity to make CU Boulder more inclusive.

In his research for the Digital Accessibility Office, Darcy discovered an outsized reliance by faculty and staff on students with disabilities, whom they expected to function as experts in particular technologies.

“The assumption behind this is that people have been blind for a long enough period to learn how to use the technology, and that they have the socio-economic resources to purchase it and get trained on it,” Darcy says. “There is a push for people with disabilities to advocate for themselves, which is great, but oftentimes that advocacy shifts to individual responsibility.”

In anthropology, a faculty member offered to become his dissertation advisor, and Darcy began to focus his thesis on market-oriented incentives in universities, like academic tenure and intellectual property, which solidify a hierarchy in which certain groups are given preference at the expense of people with disabilities, he says.

Darcy is still gathering data, but his early findings suggest a need to improve communication about disability and strengthen training for faculty, students and staff to support students with disabilities so they finish their degrees. While there are clusters of disability experts across campus, these groups have not effectively shared their information or found ways to deliver training, Darcy contends.

“I just don't want the knowledge that I produce to sit up in the ivory tower,” Darcy says. “I want to make a positive impact for the people I do research with. Hopefully, I can make some changes.”

Student leverages website and social media to support fellow cancer survivors

In 2020, Aspen Heidekrueger launched a blog documenting her experience surviving leukemia at age 12 and the challenging aftermath. Now, she seeks to bring people with chronic illness together through social media and her website.

Heidekrueger’s blog, called Complicated Cancer, focuses on continuing health issues related to her chemotherapy, which lasted two-and-a-half years. By blending pop culture, memes, philosophy and her reflections to give insight into the experience of surviving cancer, Heidekrueger offers advice and encouragement to readers.

“When I was struggling with debilitating, chronic health problems, I felt so alone and so misunderstood,” says Heidekrueger, who is pursuing a bachelor’s in philosophy. “It was so difficult to connect to people, and I had no one telling me that what I was feeling was normal. I never want anyone else to feel that way, if I can help it.”

In 2021, Heidekrueger began creating content for TikTok, Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram, which she hoped would reach more people undergoing cancer treatment and clarify the experience for a larger audience. She did not anticipate the commonality of her experience and those of people with other chronic health issues, already gaining more than 210,000 followers on TikTok alone.

“I have been able to connect with so many people struggling with cancer or chronic illness,” Heidekrueger says. “Because all those people are experiencing similar things—lots of days of feeling sick, countless doctors, hospitals and physical limitations—it all manifests the same way emotionally and mentally.”

The growing audience is an exciting opportunity for Heidekrueger to offer support for people who might struggle finding understanding communities. While her mother has helped her overcome barriers, she knows that during hard times people on whom survivors relied in the past might be less dependable.

Aspen Heidekrueger, a philosophy undergraduate student, discusses her experience with cancer in her blog, Complicated Cancer.

“When I got cancer, my dad left because it was too much for him,” Heidekrueger says. “That, unfortunately, happens a lot with chronic illness issues like cancer—one parent will leave if they can't handle it. It’s awful.”

Because of that fragile support system, even one faculty or staff member who expresses concern offers students an advocate who helps them persist in their studies and recognizes their humanity. For Heidekrueger, that person was Dom Bailey, an associate professor of philosophy.

“At office hours, I told him the bare bones minimum about some of the stuff that was happening with my health and cancer at the time,” Heidekrueger says. “He immediately said, ‘That is so much. Do you have a good support system? What can I do for you?’ And that was from just telling him the smallest details.”

From Heidekrueger’s point of view, Bailey’s expression of concern and follow-up helped her feel that someone at CU Boulder was available and understood the challenges of trying to complete a college degree while dealing with chronic illness. That readiness to help and be empathetic reflect what she seeks to accomplish on her website and social media.

“To have someone I knew who was there, who really cared about me, was invested in my well-being, could help me through any hard course material and connect me with other professors—it was a lifesaver,” Heidekrueger says. “If I can do small things that help make people feel infinitely better, I want to do that, too.”

To foster a supportive community like the one she had, Heidekrueger plans to expand Complicated Cancer by creating chatrooms where cancer survivors can share their experiences and give support and advice.

“I want them to have someone who can say, ‘This is what it's like. You might feel this way, and that's normal. Here's how you can get through it,’” Heidekrueger says.

“Everyone deserves to have some hope, some encouragement, someone to connect to their pain and give them reasons to move forward.”

Faculty approachability strengthens students’ work

Graduate school appeared impossible for first-generation student Blake Trujillo.

Only certain types of people went on to continue their education—and he, the first person in his family to complete a bachelor’s degree at a university, did not see himself as one of them. At least at first.

“That's something that is often neglected,” says Trujillo, a master’s student in religious studies. “If you don't have someone with you who's been (through the application process), then it becomes a much more difficult experience, especially at the graduate level.”

Born in Wheat Ridge, Colorado, Trujillo moved to Silverdale, Washington, at a young age. He attended Central Washington University (CWU) in Ellensburg, where he was a middle-distance runner and studied political science.

After completing his bachelor’s degree in three years, he wanted to stay at CWU and continue to run track. On a whim, he decided to take a few religious studies classes and fell in love with the subject.

“It opened my eyes,” Trujillo says. “I realized that maybe the world isn't exactly how I picture it and there are new aspects to religion that we can explore and discover.”

Blake Trujillo is a master’s student in religious studies.

Of particular importance was his undergraduate advisor, Lily Vuong, whose dynamic lectures and mentorship encouraged Trujillo to reframe what he believed possible in religious studies. Vuong, who is an associate professor of religious studies at CWU, also encouraged Trujillo to consider pursuing a graduate degree.

Vuong helped Trujillo put together a compelling application with which he gained admission to CU Boulder and, just as important, earned a strong financial aid package.

With high expectations for his first year, Trujillo hoped to enjoy the best of Boulder’s residential experience, spend time digging through the library’s vast access to primary texts and explore his research interest in Gnosticism, or a set of religious beliefs in some early Christian and Jewish sects that emphasizes personal spiritual knowledge over orthodox teachings and traditions. He also wanted to replicate the mentorship he received at CWU.

Trujillo is excited to practice being an approachable scholar, replicating the mentorship he received. He hopes the informal manner with which he interacts with students encourages them to seek him out. In conversations with students, he wants to help them see themselves at their best and create an environment that gives them opportunities to become that person.

“Professors are brilliant, and at the same time, this is an avenue that anyone can pursue and should believe that they can pursue. If I can do it, anyone can,” Trujillo says.

Trujillo believes leveling his position of influence and power as much as possible makes him appear more human. That effort creates familiarity with students, which he hopes leads to more students seeking out mentorship.

“Some faculty seem like mythical figures who went to mythical universities, and it can be tough to want to approach someone like that,” Trujillo says. “I want students and professors to know they can approach me and talk.”

Trujillo argues that if faculty maintain distance to give the appearance of expertise, they might inadvertently encourage their students to submit work that is not their best. Instead, he believes intimidated students try to simply meet the established requirements. In his experience, when you give students the benefit of the doubt and make yourself available, they meet even higher expectations.

“After I built a connection with Dr. Vuong, my advisor for undergrad, I felt much worse turning in something that I thought was bad,” Trujillo says. “I knew she had given me a certain amount of grace and kindness, so I felt like I needed to step up to the plate.”

“When people give you grace, in the end it motivates you.”

(Header image illustration by Alex Steele)

Meet three CU Boulder students who are creating supportive, stronger communities by improving understanding, accessibility.

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Russian church leader puts the blame of invasion on those who flout ‘God’s law,’ but taking biblical law out of its historical context doesn’t work

Anonymous — Fri, 22 Apr 2022 14:23:08 +0000

Russian church leader puts the blame of invasion on those who flout ‘God’s law,’ but taking biblical law out of its historical context doesn’t work Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 04/22/2022 - 08:23

Samuel L. Boyd

Patriarch Kirill, the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, preached a sermon on March 6, 2022, in which he suggested the violation of “God’s law” provided divine license for the war against Ukraine.

In particular, Kirill pointed to Ukrainian acceptance of gay rights and the promotion of gay pride parades as specific examples of behavior that goes against God’s law. “This is a sin that is condemned by the Word of God - both the Old and the New Testament,” he said during his sermon.

Yet few readers of the Bible realize that the laws in biblical times worked differently than today.

Legal collections in the ancient world

In my research on the Bible and its legal material, I have come to the conclusion that much of the modern debate about the Bible in political discourse could be ascribed to mistaken literary genres.

For example, laws from the Code of Hammurabi, an often-cited legal collection from King Hammurabi of ancient Babylon, have the familiar structure of modern, practiced law: If someone does something wrong, then that person is guilty according to the details of the law.

At the top of the page: Russian President Vladimir Putin, accompanied by Patriarch of Russia Kirill and Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev (in background), at a monastery outside Moscow in 2017 (Alexey Nikolsky/AFP via Getty Images). Above: Stele of Hammurabi. Department of Near Eastern Antiquities of the Louvre, Iraq. (via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY).

However, Hammurabi himself rarely referenced the collection. At times, his own royal decrees were in violation of what the inscription says should happen.

The Code of Hammurabi was not simply a reflection of law in everyday Mesopotamia. Instead, it was likely a collection of possible legal cases and scenarios assembled by royal scribes.

These cases demonstrate a range of hypothetical legal responses that could ensure maximal justice in society. They may resemble real law, but they are not a direct representation of what happened in every case.

The laws were placed on a rock monument that contained an image of King Hammurabi seated before the god of justice, Shamash. The presentation of these laws on the inscription was for the purpose of making the king look good through propaganda, but, as research shows, not in order to codify practiced law.

Scholars believe that the Code of Hammurabi influenced some of the legal collections in the Bible, such as in the book of Exodus, the second book of the Bible traditionally attributed to Moses. There is evidence that, like Hammurabi’s law code, laws in the Bible were not necessarily practiced.

For example, a law in the book of Deuteronomy, the fifth book of the Bible, also believed to have been written by Moses, says that if a son is persistently rebellious against his parents and gets drunk, the parents will bring the son to the town elders. The men of the town then stone the son to death.

But what counts as “rebellious,” and how drunk would qualify the son to be deemed guilty?

The Bible does not say. Ancient rabbis viewed the passage as not able to be practiced at all. The prophet Jeremiah applied the law metaphorically to Jerusalem’s destruction in 586 B.C., but there is no evidence that the law was actually practiced.

There is another story of one ancient rabbi, Hananiah ben Hezekiah, who locked himself in his room, burning 300 barrels of oil to keep his light on in order to figure out how the laws of the Bible worked together. This incredible amount of exertion highlights how different these laws actually are and how they cannot be reconciled into one simple legal vision.

Laws, the Bible and ancient Israel

While there is evidence that some sense of legal reality in ancient Israel looked like some of the biblical laws, the relationship was not exact.

It seems, instead, that the genre of legal collections in the Bible functioned according to the literary conventions of its day.

The fact that laws in the Bible look like other ancient Near Eastern laws does not mean that the laws in the Bible have no unique features. Scholars have noted an innovation that occurred in the laws in the Bible: There is no king who acts as the lawgiver.

All of the other laws in the ancient Near East were given by the king. The Mesopotamian god of justice, Shamash, endowed Hammurabi with wisdom, but Hammurabi himself derived the laws.

Yet the earliest legal collection in the Bible, in the book of Exodus, lacks the role of the king as a lawgiver for the first time in the history of the ancient Near East. The biblical laws, instead, come directly from God.

The original intent of some of these legal collections may have been to emphasize the need for freedom against larger dominant imperial forces. They were used as statements expressing convictions about justice, divinity and society, but without recourse to ancient Near Eastern kings.

In fact, one law in Deuteronomy relegates the king to a much smaller role than royalty otherwise occupied in ancient society. This law stipulates that the primary job of a king is to study the legal material in the Bible. It also commands that the king not act arrogantly toward other Israelites.

Given these historical observations, “God’s law,” at least in the Bible, limits royal authority and provides a statement against imperialism, all of which would seem to undermine Kirill’s use of divine statutes to promote war and support Putin’s agenda.

But one can only see such functions of these laws when understood in their ancient context.

How and when the perception changed

Byzantine Emperor Justinian brought about legal reforms in the sixth century (Richard T. Nowitz/Collection The Image Bank via Getty Images).

The modern sense of legal collections as practiced law derives in some manner from the legacy of the Byzantine Emperor Justinian. He inaugurated an expansive legal reform in the Roman Empire in the sixth century.

It included precepts such as “innocent until proved guilty,” which would become a maxim for many later legal systems, such as the notion of “proof beyond a reasonable doubt” in America.

Modern Christian thinkers tried to identify three enduring uses of the law in the Bible, the second of which applies a civil relevance to these statutes. The idea is that when a civil code that includes God’s laws is used in society, it should, in theory, curb evil.

One can find such sentiments in statements by modern legislators in America, such as Missouri Sen. Josh Hawley’s comments at The King’s College in New York in a commencement address in 2019.

There, he blamed what in his view is America’s current moral bankruptcy on a fourth-century Christian belief called Pelagianism that highlights free will in humanity.

Hawley claimed that such a Pelagian attitude was at the root of a 1992 court case, Planned Parenthood v. Casey, in which the individual was ruled to have the “right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.”

For Hawley, this sentiment contradicts the belief that all humanity should be subject to God’s rule, evidenced in the need for a personal relationship with God.

For Kirill, the use of “God’s law” in the war in Ukraine is an attempt to provide a divine mandate for Putin’s actions. Yet such a claim presupposes that biblical law was enacted in history and should be implemented in modern society.

Moreover, this sort of argument envisions a legal authority over Ukraine from the Russian Orthodox Church, a claim that has been vigorously contested by many who think that the Ukrainian Orthodox Church should be independent from oversight in Moscow.

Yet the Bible’s laws and its vision of society were more complex than such a direct application that Kirill in Russia or Hawley in the U.S. advocate.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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Why translating ‘God’s law’ to government law isn’t easy

Anonymous — Thu, 17 Mar 2022 16:18:50 +0000

Why translating ‘God’s law’ to government law isn’t easy Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 03/17/2022 - 10:18

Samuel L. Boyd

The relationship between certain interpretations of the Bible and public life in the U.S. continues to be in the headlines. During the March for Life anti-abortion rally in Washington, D.C., on Jan. 21, 2022, the Bible featured prominently, with passages from the books of Jeremiah and Proverbs, among others, on display.

The Museum of the Bible in D.C., located near the site of the rally, offered free admission during the March. A prominent speaker at the event was the Catholic priest Mike Schmitz, who hosts a popular podcast called “The Bible in a Year” and has published articles on his website pertaining to the Bible and abortion.

Some religious groups take the relationship between the Bible and American law and society even further. A movement called “dominionism” and a particular version of it called “theonomy” in Christianity have become prominent in part through politicians associated with the movement, such as Michele Bachmann and Sens. Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley.

Many Christian dominionists want, in some fashion, to apply God’s law and Christian principles to American politics.

Yet few readers of the Bible realize that the laws then were not practiced in the way many think of laws functioning today.

Legal collections in the ancient world

In my research on the Bible and its legal material, I have come to the conclusion that much of the modern debate about the Bible in American society could be ascribed to mistaken literary genres. Ancient texts that might look like law codes today were not necessarily enforced as the law of the land in biblical times.

Stele of Hammurabi (Department of Near Eastern Antiquities of the Louvre, Iraq, via Wikimedia Commons).

However, Hammurabi himself rarely referenced the collection. At times his own royal decrees were in violation of what the inscription says should happen.

The Code of Hammurabi was not simply a reflection of law in everyday Mesopotamia. Instead, it was likely a collection of possible legal cases and scenarios assembled by royal scribes.

Scholars believe that the Code of Hammurabi influenced some of the legal collections in the Bible, such as in the book of Exodus, the second book of the Bible traditionally attributed to Moses. T here is evidence that, like Hammurabi’s law code, laws in the Bible were not necessarily practiced.

But what counts as “rebellious,” and how drunk would qualify the son to be deemed guilty.

Laws, the Bible and ancient Israel

While there is evidence that some sense of legal reality in ancient Israel looked like some of the biblical laws, the relationship was not exact.

It seems, instead, that the genre of legal collections in the Bible functioned according to the literary conventions of its day.

All of the other laws in the ancient Near East were given by the king. The Mesopotamian god of justice, Shamash, endowed Hammurabi with wisdom, but Hammurabi himself derived the laws.

And given how the distinct collections in the Bible differ and change over time, the legal material shows a remarkably adaptable sense of how ancient Israelite society constantly evolved in its response to historical events.

But one can only see such functions of these laws when understood in their ancient context.

How and when the perception changed

The modern Western sense of law collections and judicial sensibility derives in some manner from the legacy of the Byzantine Emperor Justinian. He inaugurated an expansive legal reform in the Roman Empire in the sixth century.

Emperor Justinian brought about legal reforms in the sixth century (Richard T. Nowitz/Collection The Image Bank via Getty Images).

It included precepts such as “innocent until proved guilty,” which would become a maxim for many later legal systems, such as the notion of “proof beyond a reasonable doubt” in America.

Later Christian thinkers tried to identify three enduring uses of the law in the Bible over time into modernity, the second of which applies a civil relevance to these statutes. The idea is that when a civil code that includes God’s laws is used in society, it should, in theory, curb evil.

One can find such sentiments in statements by modern legislators, such as Missouri Sen. Josh Hawley’s comments at The King’s College in New York in a commencement address in 2019.

There, he blamed what in his view is America’s current moral bankruptcy on a fourth-century Christian belief called Pelagianism that highlights free will in humanity.

For Hawley, this sentiment contradicts the belief that all humanity should be subject to God’s rule, evidenced in the need for a personal relationship with God.

Yet the Bible, its laws and ancient debates that stem of from its vision of humanity and society were more complex than such a direct application that Hawley and others advocate.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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Partners in Play

Anonymous — Fri, 04 Mar 2022 22:43:05 +0000

Partners in Play Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 03/04/2022 - 15:43

Doug McPherson

Alumnae create business to inspire connection and play at work

At first glance, degrees in theater, religious studies and art history might not seem ideal for entrepreneurship.

But Katie Wall (BFAThtr’05) and Courtney Jacobson (RelSt, ArtHist’07) say their classes were the perfect training ground for starting and running their new company, The Culture Biz, which builds culture and connection through intentional play.

At the top of the page and Above: Katie Wall and Courtney Jacobson, co-founders of Culture Biz, hold crates from the business (Photos by Kalen Jesse Photography).

The two didn’t know each other while at the University of Colorado Boulder. After college, Jacobson began working in summer camps and community programming while Wall waited tables at night and vied for acting jobs during the day. It was during Wall’s work in restaurants that she realized culture was key for workers.

“We’d play frivolous games to keep ourselves engaged,” Wall said. “Find the cork was a staple, we’d hide a cork around the restaurant, and while bussing tables or taking orders, we’d look for the cork. That simple game would bring the entire staff together.”

Wall said that concept of play at work stayed with her as she transitioned to more corporate jobs where it became even clearer which work teams had core values of trust and connection and which ones didn’t.

“When we feel connected to the people we work with, we are happier, more productive, and we can be more creative,” Wall said.

Jacobson and Wall met by chance in 2019 at a Denver community center where Wall was facilitating a workshop on how pre-school kids and their grandparents could better connect through play. Jacobson had just returned from a conference about the benefits of play as a science.

“We got to talking,” Wall said. “We both aligned on the necessity of culture as a huge benefit to an organization. We connected on that shared value of connection as well as play.”

When they met again, Wall pitched Jacobson on the idea for the business. “We left the meeting as business partners,” Wall said.

They started The CultureBiz in October 2019. To date, and despite the pandemic, they’ve worked with over 600 people in 25 organizations, spanning nonprofits and businesses across several industries. The company is also launching new products in team building, communication, strategic planning and creative problem solving. Plus, it’s expanding into the business-to-consumer world with a new product that helps connect people in situations where awkward small talk is at a peak via games and conversation starters.

Both women credit classes from their respective degrees in helping them in their roles at The CultureBiz.

“Theater is all about ensemble,” Wall said. “Many of my performance classes were all about building a successful ensemble, where we felt like as a group, we could fail, try new things, and then succeed as a group. And a lot of that initial trust was built through play-based theater games. I really enjoyed watching something start as an ember of an idea, and with support, become something magical.”

Wall said classes outside her major helped, too, specifically sociology and psychology. “They solidified my excitement about people and showed me how my interests could translate beyond performing.”

When we feel connected to the people we work with, we are happier, more productive, and we can be more creative."

Jacobson said she “loved every minute” of her classes.

“One class I think of regularly is Rituals and Rites of Passages. When we’re talking about team building and making sure employees feel like a community, ritualizing things like staff meetings, communications and appreciation is so important,” Jacobson said. “You not only want employees to know what to expect in meetings, but to make sure they feel a part of the community—a connection to the greater whole.”

Both have advice for students who are considering entrepreneurship.

“You have to believe in your idea, be willing to continue to home in on it, and be able to talk about it confidently,” Wall said. “But honestly, the best thing for an entrepreneur is to have a collaborator, whether it be a mentor or a business partner.”

And Jacobson suggests taking classes “that will open up your mind and thoughts. You never know what value that may add later on in your career. And all work experience—in restaurants, at camps, in retail, wherever—is all so helpful to learning the professional world and operating on a team.”

Alumnae create business to inspire connection and play at work.

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Women lead religious groups in many ways—besides the growing number who have been ordained

Anonymous — Wed, 19 Jan 2022 21:50:24 +0000

Women lead religious groups in many ways—besides the growing number who have been ordained Anonymous (not verified) Wed, 01/19/2022 - 14:50

Deborah Whitehead

What constitutes women’s leadership in religious communities is open to many interpretations. In the U.S., more attention has been given to women’s ordination because of the highly public and visible nature of these roles, but the issue is far more complicated.

In her 2010 book “Breaking Through the Stained Glass Ceiling: Women Religious Leaders in Their Own Words,” radio host Maureen Fiedler identifies at least eight types of religious leadership roles for women: denominational and organizational leaders, biblical scholars, theologians, religious activists, spiritual teachers, interfaith leaders and journalists. While each has its own particular challenges and struggles, Fiedler notes that “denominational leadership is hardest for women to achieve, because it involves real power.”

As a scholar of gender and U.S. religious history, I argue that while attention to women’s ordination is important, it does not tell the whole story of women’s leadership.

Vibrant traditions

Though women have not always had the same rights and privileges as men, there are also long and vibrant traditions of women’s leadership in the world’s religions.

At the top of the page: Rabbi Diana Villa, center, with colleagues at the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, in Jerusalem, in 2013 (AP Photo/Sebastian Scheiner).Above: Sally J. Priesand, the first female rabbi, speaks in New York, on March 5, 1974 (AP Photo/Marty Lederhandler).

Women have been nuns, teachers, priestesses, gurus, heads of religious orders, deacons and elders. In the U.S., Jarena Lee became the first woman authorized to preach in the African Methodist Episcopal Church, in 1819. In 1854, Antoinette Brown Blackwell was ordained by a local Congregationalist church in New York, becoming the first U.S. woman to receive full ordination as a minister.

But women’s ordination was not widespread in the U.S. until the 1950s, when some Protestant Christian denominations began to offer formal ordination and full clergy rights to women, beginning with the United Methodist Church (UMC) and what would become the Presbyterian Church USA in 1956. These changes sprang from the desire to formalize local and smaller-scale practices of women’s leadership as well as to respond to larger cultural changes such as the second-wave feminist movement.

Some feminists rejected all religious institutions, and religion more generally, as inherently patriarchal. Others left their own communities to create entirely new women-centered forms of religion. But many preferred to remain and work within their traditions to make them more inclusive, looking to history, tradition and sacred texts for resources. Women’s ordination is only one piece of this ongoing work.

Ordaining women

In the 1970s, more Protestant denominations, such as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the Episcopal Church, voted to ordain women. In 1980, Marjorie Mathews became the first female bishop in the UMC and the first U.S. woman to hold the position of bishop in any major Christian denomination. In 1989, Barbara Harris became the first female and first African American female bishop in the Episcopal Church.

Today there are more women, women of color and LGBTQ priests and bishops in U.S. Protestantism than ever before.

There have been equally dramatic changes in American Judaism since 1972, when Sally Priesand became the first U.S. female rabbi, ordained by a Reform Jewish rabbinical seminary. The Reconstructionist and Conservative traditions followed, ordaining women as rabbis in 1974 and 1985, respectively.

Since that time, at least 700 women have been ordained as Reform rabbis and at least half of all rabbinical students at liberal Jewish seminaries are female. The American Jewish rabbinate is more diverse than ever, not just with respect to gender but also racial and ethnic diversity as well as LGBTQ identity.

Opposition to change

But women’s ordination remains largely off limits in many other traditions, including the two largest U.S. Christian denominations—the Roman Catholic Church and the Southern Baptist Convention, or SBC—as well as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, known as the LDS, and Orthodox Judaism.

In 2014, Kate Kelly, founder and leader of a movement to ordain women to the LDS priesthood, was excommunicated by the LDS Church. In 2000, the SBC attempted to settle decades of debate on women’s ordination by issuing a statement that “the office of pastor is limited to men as qualified by Scripture.” Despite this, because of the decentralized nature of Baptist polity, individual churches can, and still do, occasionally ordain women even though they risk being ostracized from the denomination for doing so.

While some continue to advocate for women’s ordination within the SBC, others, such as popular Bible study teacher Beth Moore, have made the painful decision to leave to pursue their leadership vocations in less restrictive communities.

Orthodox Judaism also remains officially opposed to women’s ordination, although beginning in 2009, a small number of women have received rabbinical training and ordination through Yeshivat Maravat, a New York City-based Modern Orthodox seminary. Most have chosen to call themselves by titles other than “rabbi.”

In response, the Rabbinical Council of America, one of the world’s largest associations of Orthodox rabbis, passed several resolutions condemning the ordination of women, including a 2015 statement declaring that “RCA members with positions in Orthodox institutions may not ordain women into the Orthodox rabbinate, regardless of the title used.”

Evangelist and author Beth Moore (Terry Wyatt/Getty Images for Dove Awards).

But in 2016, Yeshiva Maharat graduate Lila Kagedan made history by becoming the first woman to take the title “Rabbi.” She currently serves a congregation in New Jersey.

Roman Catholics

Earlier this year Pope Francis issued a decree formally allowing women to serve as lectors and acolytes in the Roman Catholic Church, roles that many women around the world have informally had for some time. Yet he simultaneously distinguished these lay ministerial roles from the “ordained” ministries of the priesthood and diaconate, which remain male-only.

When asked in 2016 whether women would ever be ordained as priests, Francis referenced Pope John Paul II’s 1994 apostolic letter definitively denying the possibility of women priests and remarked that “on the ordination of women in the Catholic Church, the last word is clear.”

Yet many Roman Catholic women remain undeterred and continue their decadeslong struggle for women’s ordination. Since 2002, the controversial organization Roman Catholic Women Priests has ordained around 200 “womenpriests”—and some men—into what they term “renewed priestly ministry,” many of them serving communities in the U.S.

Thinking beyond ordination

Women’s ordination has contributed to significant changes in U.S. religious communities, in many cases opening pathways to ordination for LGBTQ and other marginalized groups and leading to greater diversity within their traditions as well as higher levels of participation and commitment among women parishioners.

But others have criticized the focus on ordination as too limited. Instead of simply being incorporated into male-dominated institutions, they argue that women should work to transform them.

The focus on ordination also obscures the many less visible forms of women’s leadership in religious communities. Further, it may reflect limited understandings of individual freedom and the nature of religious authority.

Professor Amina Wadud leading a Friday prayer service in Oxford, England, in 2008 (AP Photo/Kirsty Wigglesworth).

For example, within the U.S. Muslim community, scholar Amina Wadud made headlines in 2005 when she led mixed-gender congregational prayers at a highly publicized event in New York City, with some calling her the first American female imam.

Wadud and other Muslim women have continued to lead prayers in their communities. But Muslim women’s leadership may also be measured by increased representation of women on mosque boards of trustees and the establishment of more women-led spaces, such as the Women’s Mosque of America, the first women-led Muslim house of worship in the U.S., founded in 2015.

Other forms of discrimination

There is also an important practical difference between ordaining women and having women in top leadership roles.

For example, 71.8% of U.S. congregations surveyed say they allow women to preach or lead services. But the 2018-2019 National Congregations Study, which surveyed 5,300 U.S. religious communities including Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and other religious groups, found that only 56.4% of these communities would allow a woman to “be head clergyperson or primary religious leader.” It also found that only 13.8% of congregations are actually led or co-led by a woman, and only 8.1% of U.S. adherents belong to communities that are led or co-led by women – both figures representing increases of just 3% since 1998.

Even after decades of women’s ordination in major U.S. religious organizations, very few women have served in top leadership roles.

The phrase “stained glass ceiling” has been used to describe “the limitations encountered by women in religious leadership roles.” Although much progress has been made, more subtle forms of discrimination and limitations on women’s opportunities for advancement persist. The gender pay gap among clergy is far worse than the national average.

Although some women have been successful in breaking through the stained glass ceiling, the struggle for more inclusive and just religious communities continues.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

A scholar of gender and US religious history explains how women are trying to make religious communities more inclusive. Women’s ordination is only one piece of this ongoing work.

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