Feminist Monks?

I've just returned from a brief stay at Holy Cross Monastery, located near Poughkeepsie, NY, where I worked intensely on poetry and reflection. I traveled there by train with my good friend, The Creek Hiker. The monastery was on a hill overlooking the Hudson River. You could walk down to the river and just think, or walk up the hill to a labyrinth made of stones. The monks were so gracious. We went to worship with them several times a day. They sang entire Psalms, and it was just one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard.

So one might ask why a feminist might find solace with a group of men, yet that is exactly what happened during my stay at Holy Cross. There seems to be a general misconception in the public mind that feminisim = man-hating. This cannot be further from the truth for the vastmajority of feminists.

While there are many different versions of feminism, most feminists are fighting against patriarchy, a structure of power that traditionally oppresses women. This structure tends to put men in power and offer them privilege. My goal, then, as a feminist, is to deconstruct patriarchy, to unpack the ways that it harms both women and men.

Patriarchy harms us all, regardless of gender. A wonderful, whimsical illustration of patriarchy is the book Hope for the Flowers. Here, Trina Paulus presents us with the life of two caterpillars, Stripe and Yellow, who try to fulfill their instinct to "move up" in the world. They join thousands of other caterpillars in a giant "caterpillar pillar," a mass of little bodies climbing on top of each other to the great unknown above. Soon, Yellow becomes disconcerted with this effort, uncomfortable at the prospect of having to step on someone else's head to move forward in the world. She begins the long crawl down, abandoning this patriarchal structure for something better.

Yellow learns to fly, and in doing so, to "move up" in the world in a way that empowers others instead of disempowering them. This, too, is what most feminists aim for: a new way of doing things. A new way to reach the sky without stepping on a fellow caterpillar in the process. A butterfly way of being.

It is this kind of deconstructing that I found in the monks. Note their non-patriarchal Vision and Core Values:

*To personally and communally live a more authentic witness of Benedictine Ideals (namely pax or "peace," and ora et labora or "prayer and work" in the Contemporary World.
*To consciously develop and practice the attitudes and skills necessary to genuinely Listen and Respond to each other and our world.
*To face the power we hold to act on behalf of justice and to use that power, individually and corporately, for the sake of justice.
*To Welcome Diversity that enriches our life and mission and to embrace the costs and benefits that results.

It almost sounds like a feminist platform.

Yet you'll notice in my previous post that I referred to my father as "pro-feminist," not a "feminist." In the same way, I would ascertain that the monks at Holy Cross certainly seem to embody many feminist principles, but as men, they don't embody feminism. They can't, anymore than I can embody the experience of an African American. But they can certainly participate earnestly in the cause to eradicate patriarchal forces. And they do.

Perhaps my favorite inkling of resistance came during Vespers one evening. In the prayer book, I noticed that several newly typed prayers were scotch taped over the previous prayers. When I lifted the corner of one, I realized that the new prayer referred to God as "you" instead of "him."

What a beautiful way to deconstruct authority. In that quiet moment, with the monks singing Psalms in a small cathedral, I almost felt like Yellow. I could let go of the caterpillar pillar of religion within me. I could fly.