Vol. 22, No. 1 |
Spring 1998 |
A Spiritual Heart
Transplant: An Interview with Joan Chittister, OSB
by EEWC Update Editor Letha Dawson Scanzoni
"A new heart I will give
you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of
stone and give you a heart of flesh" (Ezekiel 36:26, NRSV).
Sister Joan Chittister is the executive director of Benetvision, a
resource and research center for contemporary spirituality in Erie, PA and has established
an international reputation as an author and lecturer as well. Her latest book, published
this spring, is entitled Heart of Flesh: A Feminist Spirituality for Women and Men.
When I asked how she happened to tie a book on feminist spirituality
to the passage from Ezekiel quoted above, her reply was quick and passionate: "I've
always consciously felt that this development of the human heart (which in Western
constructs always means feeling) is what is lacking in a highly technological and very
legalistic society."
She
explained that she had been struck by the passage when she was a young Sister. It showed
her that "you could have all the law and all morality on your side and be missing the
dimension that we most ascribe to God--heart. Compassion. Forgiveness. Sensitivity.
Sensibility. Care."
She believes, for instance, that the presence or absence of these
qualities has made all the difference in various periods of American history. "You
find when the heart is in full gear that people do best. But when the heart of flesh is
not what is underlying policy-making--whether in a family or in a government--then you
have great suffering."
Joan is convinced that "the feminist dimension, the new world
view, will be the view of the world seen through the human heart." This is what she
means when she calls feminism "the cornerstone of spirituality." She hastens to
distinguish between "feminism" and "femininity" and also makes clear
that "feminists come in two genders--female and male."
"I do believe that feminism is a new world view," she told
me. "I have been maintaining for years that feminism is the radical justice issue.
Now you have to understand," she continued, "that I myself came into all this
through (a) the purpose and function of religious life, and (b) the peace movement."
She says that when she got into the peace movement and was trying to
understand how it was that we "could live in a world where 6 million people could be
exterminated and nobody noticed, where we ourselves could do carpet bombing of Dresden and
think we had done a good thing, then experiment with two different bombs in two different
cities when we knew Japan wanted to surrender," she asked herself, "What kind of
a people are we? Are we human?" At the time, she was reading Teilhard de Chardin and
began questioning whether we had "really evolved to any full state of humanity."
"I was trying to put all these things together," she says,
"and sometime in the mid to late 70s, I came to understand that there was only one
thing that justified this kind of violence and continued oppression. And that had to be
the notion that God had built inequality into the human race."
It had to be the misinterpretation of the creation stories in Genesis.
Otherwise, she maintains, we would surely have had a moral problem, generation after
generation, with the destruction of people. "We know that some people are in charge
of the rest of the people, and they know who they are. So if you believe that God built
inequality into the human race, then in my opinion you are a very short step from the
lynching of black people, the nuclear destruction or napalming of Asian people, and the
gassing of the next generation of Jews. When you take that subversion of Genesis and you
add to it Darwin's survival of the fittest, then we know who's 'fittest.' It's not women.
And it's not nonwhites. So then I had this phenomenal Eureka moment that was tragic. It
almost broke my heart."
She then embarked on a study of the creation myths or origin stories
from other religions and found that "in every case, creation began with a divine
co-equal couple, or a hermaphroditic being who gave birth to both males and females, or
some act of divine power that spawned a male and a female figure for the propagation of
the race. Equality was in every creation myth. It was only when we got to the religious
application of those stories that you began to see the distortion," she said.
"All equality was lost; women were subjected to the heel of the men and the creation
story itself was distorted."
She went on: "And that's when I began to say, 'feminism is the
radical meaning, the justice issue at the root of all justice issues.' Until you deal with
feminism, you will not have peace; people will not be safe; and you will have some type of
new slavery colonialism, industrial slavery. You will have a hierarchy of control and
people thinking that they not only have a right to control but a responsibility to do it.
Look at the history of religion. Look how each of us claimed full truth, the total truth,
and the right to impose that truth on everybody else. And it's all in the name of God!
"That's why you see me involved in those three issues: the peace
movement, the women's movement, and the ecology movement. I have developed a new
presentation at Cambridge that I call 'Theology, Ecology, and Feminism: In Conjunction or
in Conflict?' And what I do is braid these three pieces and show they are one."
Joan Chittister loves to look for connections and put ideas together.
Her voice rings with power and passion as she says, "I mean it when I say new world
view." She puts her own heart of flesh into implementing the message of her latest
book. "It's not a book; it's a life commitment," she emphasizes. She says she
thanks God that she is a writer because otherwise she doesn't know how she "would get
it out of [her] system."
And what a writer she is! One of the major bookstores on the Internet
lists 5 pages of titles of Joan's books and audio tapes. She has also authored articles
too numerous to mention. (She holds a doctorate in speech communication theory from Penn
State.)
She traces her love of writing to her earliest days. An only child,
she entertained herself by writing about her adventures with five imaginary brothers. In
high school, she worked diligently on the school newspaper. She says she found it
impossible not to write.
One of the most poignant and disturbing of the anecdotes with which
she opens each chapter of Heart of Flesh recounts her daily keeping of a journal after she
entered the convent. She recorded her thoughts about the spiritual life, her reactions to
monastic living, and her observations on the structures that formed and maintained the
life of the community. She worked on the journal every night and every morning and then
tucked it into a corner of her tiny desk "the only private place a novice had, except
for a three-drawer clothes stand by the bed." She writes in her book: "I knew,
somehow, that someday I would look back on this work as a treasure house of idea
development, a map of my own spiritual development."
But one day the journal was missing. She suspected that behind its
mysterious disappearance was the rigid novice mistress who scrutinized the young women so
closely, demanding unquestioning conformity and obedience and never hesitating to punish.
"Her role, she thought, was to turn us all into what the male world said were good
nuns," Joan wrote in that chapter, which she aptly titled "The Patriarchal
Woman: Internalized Oppression." Joan watched the woman closely to see any hint of
her having taken the journal, but she saw no sign that the novice mistress had even known
about the journal. Over the next five years, Joan did not put down on paper any further
personal thoughts; she bottled up her reflections inside.
But on the night before her final profession, the novice mistress sent
word that she wanted to see Joan by the elevator. Here is what happened as Joan describes
it in Heart of Flesh (p. 152):
It was a strange request. We had hardly seen one another in years and
never ever talked about anything when we did. Night Silence had, in fact, already begun.
No one talks about anything to anyone after night prayer in a monastery. Nevertheless, she
was indeed waiting for me, elevator at the ready, when I came to the hall. Silently and
solemnly she took me to the basement, then to the boiler room, and finally to the
incinerator. "Open it," she whispered, as she brought something out from under
her apron. I recognized it instantly. My journal. "Here," she said as I swung
open the top of the flaming furnace. "I think you ought to burn this now. You don't
want to do this kind of thing anymore."
But why not? I thought as I threw the journal slowly and reluctantly
into the fire. To this day, I can see the flames curling around those pages still. The
only difference is that now I know the answer to the question. *
I asked Joan what thoughts went through her mind as she watched the
journal burn. Calling the incident "obscene," she replied, "The funny thing
is, Letha, it's harder for me to deal with as I get older than it was when I was
younger." She paused. "I wanted to jump into that fire after that book."
Her voice grew soft and sad and she spoke slowly and emphatically, with a clear separation
between each word: "I wanted that book. Even at that age I had the perception--maybe
the insight to know--that there would come a time when the reflections of that young,
young woman on this strange new world around her would have its own spiritual value--and
it was taken away from me...
"You knew that in this very hierarchical, patriarchal structure
you were not a person--that anybody could reach in at anytime, do anything to you--and
that was all in the name of holiness. And I wanted to be holy with all my heart. . . .I
knew there was something wrong. I had been raised a very independent child--by a mother
and father who raised my sights as high as they could go, especially my mother. It was the
inside of me being taken away. Every private thought I had had now been destroyed. I never
will forget it.
"And I never wrote again. I did not write for years. I never
wrote another personal word. When everybody else began to journal, when journalling became
very popular, I didn't journal. To this day, I don't journal daily. I will journal major
events in my life. [Her book Beyond Beijing is a personal chronicle of her trip from the
Women's International League for Peace and Freedom in Helsinki to the United Nations
Conference on Women in Beijing in 1995.] But I don't do a daily journal."
She is determined that no one is going to take those private thoughts
away from her again. She will not risk it. I mentioned that she has nevertheless stored
them in her heart and is now sharing them with the world through her books. She laughed.
"That's right! They come out sideways!" I replied, "Yes, but they do come
out. And we, the readers, are the beneficiaries."
* Excerpt copyright 1998 by Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing
Co., Grand Rapids, MI. Quoted by permission
© 1998
Evangelical and Ecumenical Women's Caucus
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