Language and Religious Identity: Women in Discourse

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Language and Religious Identity Women in Discourse

Edited by

Allyson Jule

Language and Religious Identity: Women in Discourse

Also by Allyson Jule GENDER, PARTICIPATION AND SILENCE IN THE LANGUAGE CLASSROOM: Sh-shushing the Girls GENDER AND THE LANGUAGE OF RELIGION (editor) BEING FEMINIST, BEING CHRISTIAN: Essays from Academia (co-editor)

Language and Religious Identity Women in Discourse

Edited by

Allyson Jule University of Glamorgan, UK

© Allyson Jule 2007 Preface © Jane Sunderland 2007 All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, or under the terms of any licence permitting limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London W1T 4LP. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. The author has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First published in 2007 by PALGRAVE MACMILLAN Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire RG21 6XS and 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010 Companies and representatives throughout the world. PALGRAVE MACMILLAN is the global academic imprint of the Palgrave Macmillan division of St. Martin’s Press, LLC and of Palgrave Macmillan Ltd. Macmillan® is a registered trademark in the United States, United Kingdom and other countries. Palgrave is a registered trademark in the European Union and other countries. ISBN–13: 978–0–230–51729–5 ISBN–10: 0–230–51729–3 This book is printed on paper suitable for recycling and made from fully managed and sustained forest sources. Logging, pulping and manufacturing processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 09 08 07 Printed and bound in Great Britain by Antony Rowe Ltd, Chippenham and Eastbourne

Contents Tables, Figures and Schemas

vii

Notes on Contributors

viii

Acknowledgements

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Preface by Jane Sunderland

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Introduction Allyson Jule

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1 Testimonies and the Expansion of Women’s Roles in a Transnational Mexican Parish Ethan Philip Sharp 2 The Interplay of Language, Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender: A Case Study of Hispanic Churches in Lancaster, Pennsylvania Neryamn Rivera Nieves and Roxana Delbene Rosati

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3 Gender Constructions and Biblical Exegesis: Lessons from a Divinity School Seminar Tamara Warhol

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4 ‘Do Unto Others’: Gender and the Construction of a ‘Good Christian’ Identity in an E-Community Sage Lambert Graham

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5 From Bridegroom of the Soul to Brand-as-Friend: Metaphorical Relationships in Religious and Marketing Discourses Veronika Koller 6 Being Male and Female in Nigerian Evangelicalism – and Saying Thank You Abolaji Mustapha

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104

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7 The Role of Language in the Construction of Gender and Ethnic-Religious Identities in Brazilian-Candomblé Communities Laura Álvarez López and Chatarina Edfeldt 8 Gender and Language Use in Lisu Traditional Religion Defen Yu 9 Calm and Humble In and Through Evangelical Christianity: A Chinese Immigrant Couple in Toronto Huamei Han 10 Matka Polka (Mother Poland) and the Cult of the Virgin Mary: Linguistic Analysis of the Social Roles and Expectations of Polish Women Bozena Tieszen Index

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172

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Tables, Figures and Schemas Tables 5.1 Aspects of religion and business as leading paradigms (based on Koch, 2001)

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6.1 Distribution of response types of recipients

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6.2 Women’s compliment response types

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6.3 Men’s compliment response types

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9.1 Grace’s and Timothy’s settlement trajectories

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Figures 5.1 Metaphors of the divine–human relationship

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Schemas 6.1 Compliment responses of Nigerian evangelicals

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141

Notes on Contributors Chatarina Edfeldt, PhD, teaches Portuguese Literature and Gender Theory at Stockholm University. Her dissertation, Uma história na História (A History in History) deals with discursive aspects and practices concerning recognition and marginalization of literature written by women writers in twentieth-century Portuguese literary history. Sage Lambert Graham, PhD, is an Assistant Professor of Linguistics in the Department of English at the University of Memphis in Memphis, Tennessee. She has published articles on the topic of gendered language use in religious contexts and politeness in computer-mediated communities of practice. Huamei Han is a doctoral candidate in Second Language Education at the University of Toronto, Canada. She researches language learning as a social process, particularly the interplay between language, identity, and ideology. Allyson Jule, PhD, is Senior Lecturer in Education at the University of Glamorgan, Wales, UK. She has published books and articles on the topic of gendered language use, including being the editor of Gender and the Language of Religion (2005) and coeditor of Being Feminist, Being Christian (2006). Her research focus is the gendered use of linguistic space in classrooms. Veronika Koller, PhD, is Lecturer in English Language at Lancaster University, UK. She has published books and articles on the topic of media discourse, corporate discourse, gender, and language, including Metaphor and Gender in Business Media Discourse (2004). She is particularly interested in critical metaphor research. Laura Álvarez López, PhD, works as a Spanish Lecturer at Linköping University. She has published on the topic of language use in Afro-Brazilian religious communities. Her research interests include contact varieties of Portuguese and Spanish and she has published on the topic of language and identity in Afro-La’tinAmerican settings. Abolaji Mustapha, PhD, is a Lecturer in the Department of English, Lagos State University, Ojo, Nigeria, and has contributed to several viii

Notes on Contributors ix

books published in Nigeria. His research interest focuses on gender in speech behavior, politeness in speech functions, and sociolinguistic features of the English language in a second language context. Neryamn Rivera Nieves, PhD, is currently serving a second term as a Visiting Assistant Professor at Franklin and Marshall College, where she teaches Spanish language and literature classes. Her interests include Puerto Rican culture, Spanish Medieval and Golden Age literature, and the Lancaster Hispanic religious community. Roxana Delbene Rosati, PhD, is a Professor at Brookdale Community College. She has taught courses in Spanish language, Spanish in the United States, and Hispanic Linguistics at Franklin and Marshall College and at the University of Florida. She has published on medical discourse involving HIV/AIDS. Ethan Philip Sharp, PhD, is Assistant Professor of Latin American Studies at the University of Texas - Pan American in Edinburg, Texas. Based on multi-sited ethnographic research, his work explores changes in religious and narrative practices in transnational Mexican communities. Jane Sunderland, PhD, is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Linguistics and English Language, Lancaster University, UK. She publishes in the area of gender, language and discourse. Two recent books are Language and Gender: An Advanced Resource Book (Routledge, 2006) and Gendered Discourses (Palgrave, 2004). Bozena Tieszen, PhD, is a Professor of Linguistics at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee. Her main research interests lie in the area of sociolinguistics and, specifically, different aspects of gender, language, and society, particularly in post-communist Poland. Tamara Warhol is a doctoral candidate in Educational Linguistics at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Her research interests include classroom discourse, language and gender, and language and religion. Defen Yu, PhD, is an Associate Professor at the Yunnan National University, Kunming, China. She is an honorary associate at La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia. Her research interests include Tibeto-Burman (TB) languages and cultures, particularly kinship systems and clan relations.

Acknowledgements I would like to thank the many people who helped to make this book a reality. The enthusiasm and support of the International Gender and Language Association inspired me to collect these contributions as a continuation of my previous collection, Gender and the Language of Religion (2005) and perservere in focusing sociolinguistics on religious life. The growing interest in religion alongside gender and language has been both professionally engaging and personally intriguing. It is my hope that many others will join in on this venture. I am also grateful to those who helped me bring this book to fruition, particularly Jill Lake and Melanie Blair at Palgrave Macmillan in the United Kingdom and Cheryl Wall in Canada. I’ve used my sister’s photography on the cover and I am delighted with the result. In addition to such support, I am particularly thankful for the involvement of Jane Sunderland at Lancaster University, UK, in her willingness to write such a thoughtful preface to the collection. And, lastly, the contributors themselves are owed a great deal of thanks for their diligence and fine scholarship. It is because of them that this collection is so rich and textured and that the field of language and gender is so vibrant and engaging. ALLYSON JULE

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Preface The topic of language, religion and gender is a timely one. Religion, politics, and rhetoric are intersecting across the globe in new ways, as are religious and social practices. As I write, in the United Kingdom we have just witnessed a heated public debate about the wearing and wearers of the veil in Islam and in twenty-first-century Britain, and there is an interesting contradiction between the oft-articulated perception, within a particular discourse, of these women as ‘silenced’, and the public outspokenness and articulacy of some of these same women about the issue. Allyson Jule’s collection accordingly makes an important contribution to the study of gender, language, and discourse. The most obvious reason is the centrality of religion to billions of people, whose number may be increasing. While religion may no longer be a ‘leading paradigm’ in most Western societies (Veronika Koller observes here that this role has been taken by business), this is not true worldwide. And, in some cultural contexts, it is more central to the lives of women than to those of men – one example in this book being BrazilianCandomblé communities (Laura Álvarez López and Chatarina Edfeldt). Simultaneously, religion often has a bad press (in and beyond feminist circles) as regards women – in the Anglican Church alone, it is not hard to bring to mind St Paul’s injunction to women to be silent; the traditional marriage ceremony in which women, but not men, are asked whether they will obey their spouse-to-be; the relatively recent prohibition against women priests, with some male priests in disagreement with the new ruling defecting to Rome, and women still being unable to be ordained as bishops; and negative attitudes to women’s bodies and sexuality, hence the importance attributed to Mary’s reported virginity (in other contexts, a related dislike, fear, and indeed policing of menstruation can be found). This does not mean that those who give religion a bad press are themselves paragons of progress in terms of gender relations; it does mean that religion needs to be properly explored, not only for its near-ubiquitous institutional hierarchies as regards gender, and the circumscribed nature of women’s roles and practices, but also for insider perspectives of what religion has to offer xi

xii Preface

in terms of empowerment, if not institutional power. The qualitative, ethnographic focus of much of Allyson Jule’s collection, which includes chapters written by such insiders of religious groups and communities, in this way enhances the contribution to the gender and language field of this collection. Thick description in the collection provides fascinating insights. For example, religious identity may function as a form of compensation for problems with migrant identity (see chapters by Neryamn Riviera Nieves and Roxana Delbene Rosati, and Huamei Han), with particular and differential implications for female and male migrants. Further, as these same writers show, institutionalized religion may provide valuable and indeed unique language learning opportunities for migrants. As such, this collection also represents a useful contribution to studies of ethnicity and bilingualism (including language maintenance), and indeed language acquisition. The notion of intersecting identities in religious contexts is salient here: in particular, gender and ethnicity. Jule’s wide-ranging collection focuses on Christianity (Catholicism, Protestantism, Adventism, Pentecostal, Menonite, United Methodist, evangelical Christianity – this last being a focus of chapters by both Abolaji Mustapha and Huamei Han), but goes beyond this to animism, ancestor worship, and spiritualism. Cultural contexts span North America, Europe (Eastern), Asia, and Africa. Most of the empirical data is spoken language but there are also written texts: the Bible and its interpretation (Tamara Warhol), commercial advertisements which draw on religious discourse (Koller), an e-list (Sage Lambert Graham) and Polish women’s magazines (Bozena Tieszen). Genres include testimonies (Ethan Philip Sharp) and seminars (Warhol). There is also consideration of linguistic code, Tieszen’s chapter looking inter alia on what can be, and is, said in Polish to render female terms for roles such as ambassador equivalent to male. Religion can be seen as an important ‘epistemological site’ for gender and language study; that is, one which provides special insights into the societal and discoursal construction, negotiation, and contestation of gender more widely, as well as into the actual discoursal performance of gender, and gender identity itself. This is because of religion’s specific affordances. Defen Yu, and Álvarez López and Edfeldt, for example, in their chapters identify constructed gender identities of gods, ‘spirit gender’, and female deities in male bodies. A second affordance of religion for gender and language study, I suggest,

Preface xiii

lies in those characteristics of devotees which are perceived as desirable. Lambert Graham identifies ‘poverty, persecution, persecution in the name of righteousness’ (p. 95) within Christian religions, and to these we can add caring, meekness and humility – although I suggest that these desired characteristics go beyond Christianity. As Lambert Graham points out, these are also characteristics associated with femininity. Though in a given religion they may be seen as a good thing for all, women and men alike, when women transgress, or transcend them (for example, for career advancement), this may be more marked than it would be for their male colleagues or spiritual brothers. A third affordance of religion is in relation to gender identity: given the particular hierarchical nature of religion institutionally, with its essentialist underpinnings, in what ways do women construct themselves and their gender identities differently from men? – a question asked by both Lambert Graham and Clare Walsh (Gender and Discourse, 2001). This special nature of religion as an ‘epistemological site’ thus means that this collection is not only about gender and language in relation to religion. It is not hard for anyone working in the gender and language field to endorse Jule’s belief that ‘locating discourse in various religious groups allows for further consideration as to how and why language creates and reveals identities’ (p. 3). There is clearly scope for both more theoretical and more empirical work in this area. JANE SUNDERLAND Lancaster University

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Introduction Allyson Jule

When I started secondary school in the late 1970s, the nun who taught English and Communications gave an introductory lecture (to those who paid any attention) on how societies established themselves. Her main point centered around some chalk drawing she scribbled on the board – a diagram of a square with an arrow leading onto and through a triangle to a large circle-like shape. She said something about the messenger with a message sent to a receiver. I don’t remember anything else she said, but what has guided my understanding of my life’s work is what she did next. She began to add other lines to her drawing – first, a simple tracing of the original line from the square through the triangle and onto the circle, but then she added a reverse line, multiple lines, loops, and breaks, until the board resembled nothing recognizable at all. It seems to me now that Sister Agnes was on to something: we connect as a society through messages but the lines of communication are so complex and tangled that they are almost impossible to discern. How do we understand each other? What is being said? To whom? And why? It is such questions that propel sociolinguistics. Sociolinguistics is a vast field with a basic human curiosity at its core about who says what to whom – and why. We are all messengers and receivers and we are the message itself. We have various filters and vantage points; we see things our way and, unless convinced otherwise, we have relationships with others who see things similarly; we clash with those who don’t. We listen; we reflect; we speak or not: we are in communication. We also change our minds and our understanding of things. We grow older, travel, read, fall in love, feel loss, and, as a result of living, we alter our views and our identities which surround them. 1

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Language and Religious Identity

We are also raised in a variety of communities throughout our lives. The variables of personality, family life, social class, or education (among a host of other variables) influence our views and what we say, as does our gender and our religious experiences. When I first started my professional life as a language teacher, I was primarily concerned with language as a tool. I was most preoccupied with myself as either a messenger or a receiver; it had not occurred to me that I could also be a message or that we occupy various roles and purposes simultaneously: we are located and we locate ourselves in various identities. Like Sister Agnes’s chalk drawing, we are tangled in the various roles, messages, and relationships which surround us. When attention is paid to the various contexts of communication, we understand more. We come to better understand how we are ourselves and how we proclaim our identities to each other. Whether we are born male or female and how we relate to religion as either a major or a minor aspect of our lives are two compelling variables at the core of identity. It is from such a view that this book emerges: what are the various ways women, in particular, experience their lives in relation to a religious identity? This collection of chapters offers a valuable resource to those interested in the complex and often bewildering field of sociolinguistics, as well as to those concerned with the role religion plays alongside language practices. The articles here have a relevance to those working in gender studies because of the focus on the lives of women. There are many collections of readings on language and gender, but this particular one offers a specific emphasis on religion as an identity marker that is enacted in linguistic ways. The chapters each explore a situation where language and religious identity are positioned together with a specific focus on women at the centre of the discourse. How do women perform a religious identity? What are words used to do this? There are various ways to explore discourse but, in this collection, discourse is understood as language used in a social context and shaped by socio-cultural practices. Discourse creates community; it defines community; it reveals community. The theme running through all the studies put forward here is that language and discourse both reflect and create how we see the world. The term ‘women’ is used as a social category that includes certain behaviors, expectations, and attitudes associated with those being female in certain social/religious communities. It is the lived

Introduction 3

female experience that unifies the studies on women assembled here. How are women revealed in religious identity? What includes them? What excludes or marginalizes them from religious experiences or what linguistic practices embrace their participation? Each of the chapters attempts to explore some possibilities. From its inception, the entire field of gender and language has wrestled with how to handle itself, particularly concerning language differences between those born male and those born female. In its attempt to understand how women use language, the field seems to have organized itself around the ‘dominance’, ‘deficit’, and ‘difference’ models, moving through these versions through the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. However, the recent shift towards how women are constructed through their own choices of language suggests that language is a social practice influenced by context and particular situations. That is, gender differences are not terribly helpful in explaining who we are and why we say the things we do. Instead the context is vitally important in understanding how language is social practice and how both setting and place relate to the happenings. Any generalizations based on the observations of particular contexts from the outside of those communities are limited at best; but those who are inside particular contexts offer powerful insights into how language constructs membership and belonging. Hence, the research profiled in this collection uses qualitative and ethnographic methods to explore situations and contexts that intersect with religion and women’s religious identities inside various communities. It is my belief that locating discourse in various religious groups allows for further consideration as to how and why language creates and reveals identities. As such, each chapter offered here uses a religious context to frame a setting and place where religious identity enacts language patterns in the lives of the women who live inside them. It is the intent that, somehow, the women speak for themselves, revealing their religious identity in what they say and, through their discourse patterns, they locate themselves inside religious identities. Discourse analysis and critical discourse analysis are valuable frameworks for exploring gender. If previous approaches have assumed women use language in certain ways because they are women, discourse analysis flips this and suggests that women are who they are because of language; that is, language is a tool of identity formation and is the identity marker. The way we speak and what we say work to

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construct and maintain our identities – identities located in a variety of contexts, including here religious ones. In this collection, religious communities are varied and made local. These include: Hispanic churches in the United States (Chapters 1 and 2), inside Christian academia (Chapter 3), and in an on-line community (Chapter 4). A religious identity for women is also revealed in advertising (Chapter 5), in new African experiences with Western Christianity (Chapter 6), and in traditional cultures, such as in Brazil (Chapter 7) and in Thailand (Chapter 8). Also, a religious identity is revealed in various life experiences, such as the immigrant one in Canada (Chapter 9) and in the new Polish national identity emerging since the fall of Communism (Chapter 10). The chapters share a focus on women and religion within a sociolinguistic understanding of discourse as dialogic and context-driven, but each chapter is unique in its particular community and in the ways of understanding religious identity (as either something given or something found). To begin, Ethan Philip Sharp looks at how individual testimonies (life stories) are articulated by women in a Mexican-American church community and how the women use their testimonies to create change and power in their local Catholic church. In Chapter 2, Neryamn Rivera Nieves and Roxana Delbene Rosati look at the Hispanic community and how Catholic and Protestant groups differ in their organizational structures and the resulting linguistic choices made by women in the various denominations. In what contexts do women use certain speech acts? It appears that the bilingual approach of the Protestant groups empowers the women in particular ways. Tamara Warhol in Chapter 3 takes certain Christian scriptures concerning women’s roles and explores what young Christian scholars say about them in a seminar setting. The difficulty in interpreting key texts is made evident by the ‘voices’ which attempt to explain them – and how it is that women remain quiet on such topics. Sage Lambert Graham’s work with an on-line community continues to explore how women use discourse to articulate an identity for themselves and how they attempt to use ‘voice’ while avoiding power. How do women ‘craft’ their religious identity? And how do they do this through language? In Chapter 5, Veronika Koller looks at metaphors and how metaphors both establish and reveal quasireligious notions in advertising. It is her linking of the divine with

Introduction 5

marketing and branding that is particularly fascinating. By using cognitive Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), Koller finds similar gendered metaphors in both religious and marketing discourses regarding family, romance, and friendship. In Chapter 6, Abolaji Mustapha explores gendered patterns in responding to compliments in a Nigerian evangelical community – and how it is that Nigerian women experience empowerment inside evangelical Christianity. Mustapha suggests that these women are enacting new gender roles in response to otherwise patriarchal constraints on women’s freedom. Laura Álvarez López and Chatarina Edfeldt in Chapter 7 explore women’s positions in a BrazilianCandomblé community by exploring the historical influences on the context and how naming takes on a special purpose with regards to identity – both a gender identity and a religious one. In Chapter 8, Defen Yu offers a rich description of the Lisu religion of Thailand and how it has been influenced by globalization, namely its interaction with Western Christianity. Yu’s discussion of how beliefs and gender roles have altered, points to the relationship of gender and religion – a belief system once traditionally male and misogynistic has made accommodation to today’s woman. Huamei Han’s work in Chapter 9 looks at the interaction of a particular set of beliefs formed in China, with a modern couple’s newfound Christianity in the midst of their immigrant experience in Canada. What accommodations have been made – and for which identity purposes? The final chapter of the book is Bozena Tieszen’s work on Polish women and Communism’s view of women in relation to today’s Polish society and its focus on more feminine roles and responsibilities. Now in tension, the once-treasured view of ‘the mother’ has been challenged by sexier versions of womanhood. The order of the chapters moves from the establishing of a religious identity to the revelation of one; however, a distinction is hard to make. Establishing one’s identity through language use is intimately connected with the revelation of one’s identity through language. Our identities are ever-changing; hence, they are re-establishing and re-revealing in infinite ways throughout our lives. As such, this book offers a passing glimpse into various identities occupied by some women at one point in time. Also, the chapters move from a specific Western and American location outwards to Brazil and Thailand, concluding with a discussion of today’s Poland.

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In spite of the care taken to use studies from a variety of communities around the world, there are many, many religious communities absent from this collection. In part, this is due to a particular popularity of discourse analysis in Western scholarship as well as the difficulty in locating studies that link gender and language with religious identity around the world. My hope is that this book will stimulate more questions and more research into the vast variety of religious groups and the ways women participate in them. More and more studies will add to the growing tapestry of sociolinguistics in its quest to understand how people connect through and in language. There is an infinite variety of life stories to be told and this collection is one small offering in the attempt to understand how societies work. Perhaps Sister Agnes was on to something: the messenger is everyone; the message is everything; and the receiver is everywhere.

1 Testimonies and the Expansion of Women’s Roles in a Transnational Mexican Parish Ethan Philip Sharp

Introduction Although the Catholic Church has continued to exclude women from the priesthood, there has been a dramatic expansion of laywomen’s roles in many local Catholic parishes. Since the Second Vatican Council of the 1960s provided new possibilities for lay involvement in the Church’s apostolate, increasing numbers of women have been hired as ministers and administrators, or otherwise assumed important responsibilities in the activities of the US Church.1 There have been accounts of similar changes in Latin America, where women have taken on prominent roles in connection with various movements that have swept through the Church, beginning with ecclesial base communities inspired by liberation theology (see Burdick, 1998; Norget, 1999; Peterson, 2001). Scholars have provided a sense of the scope and impact of these changes, but there are few published ethnographic studies of women’s leadership in Catholic communities in and beyond the United States.2 This chapter, which begins to address the need for more ethnographic data, offers some insight into the expanded roles that women have obtained in Mexican Catholic communities. Drawing on research in two interconnected parishes, I contend that changes in linguistic practices among Mexican parishioners, which have resulted from the new evangelization initiated by the council of Latin American bishops in 1992 and the growth of charismatic prayer groups, have facilitated 7

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the expansion of women’s roles. Evidence for this argument is that testimonies, narratives of personal experiences that account for and affirm one’s faith, have become more common as a means of achieving access to and influence in Catholic communities, and that women have proven more adept than men at formulating and rendering testimonies. In this chapter, I provide an account of the movements and pastoral initiatives that have provided spaces in Catholic parishes for the performance of testimonies. I also describe some of the semiotic dimensions of testimonies, before turning to an analysis of testimonies performed by women who have attained official leadership roles within their respective parishes. My analysis illustrates the ways in which these laywomen are able to lay claim to and exercise authority through their performances.

The emergence of testimonies in Mexican Catholic communities Throughout 2002, I conducted ethnographic research, including more than 50 recorded interviews, in overlapping transnational Mexican Catholic communities. Most of this research took place within the facilities of a Catholic church in Indianapolis, Indiana, that had become the principal devotional site for thousands of Mexican migrants and immigrants that came to the city in the late 1990s. The church held its first mass in Spanish in 1994 for a little more than a dozen people, and by 2001, it offered an average of three masses in Spanish every week to a total of more than 1000 people. Throughout the church’s transformation into one of the largest ‘national parishes’ in the Midwestern United States, it maintained a crucial connection with Tala, a town in the state of Jalisco, on the western edge of Guadalajara. Several of the participants in the first mass in Spanish had immigrated from Tala, and throughout the 1990s, more migrants and immigrants arrived from Tala and became involved in the parish’s activities. In order to better understand this transnational connection, I conducted research in Tala, where I discovered that most of the changes that I had witnessed in Indianapolis, including an increase in the performances of and references to testimonies and a growth in the pastoral responsibilities for some laywomen, were also occurring in parts of Mexico. At the parish in Indianapolis, a small group of women was charged with most of the ministerial duties that were not the exclusive domain

Women’s Roles in a Transnational Mexican Parish 9

of the priests, including catechism, evangelization, and other activities outside of the mass, including Bible studies and prayer meetings. All of the women were middle-aged with adult children, who had had some measure of success in their lives outside of the church; two of them completed studies beyond high school before emigrating from Mexico, and another had a successful business. One was a half-time employee of the parish, bearing the title ‘Coordinator of Religious Education,’ and had an array of responsibilities, including the administration of most classes and retreats for the Spanish-speaking parishioners. One was responsible for classes that prepare adults for baptism or confirmation, among other duties, and another was the leader of the charismatic prayer meetings. In Tala, a woman also led the charismatic prayer meetings, and by virtue of that role, was charged with organizing evangelization activities within the parish. In the course of carrying out their responsibilities, these four women mentored and directed laymen and other laywomen, and they displayed their leadership through different kinds of public performances: they served as eucharistic ministers and made announcements during mass, taught classes for people of different ages, gave presentations during retreats, led prayers and interpreted Biblical passages in a range of meetings, and also shared personal testimonies on different occasions. The expansion of these laywomen’s roles within the Church is consistent with social changes that have provided greater educational and professional opportunities to women, and furthermore, it compensates for a critical shortage of priests. The principal impetus for this development, however, has been a series of efforts by the Church’s highest authorities, beginning with the Second Vatican Council, to redirect the faiths and practices of the laity. Since the Second Vatican Council, or Vatican II, as different scholars have noted, the spirituality of most Catholics has evolved into more personal, more scriptural and more liturgical forms (Orsi, 1996, p. 33). This evolution has responded, in part, to the competition and cross-fertilization that the Pentecostal movement has provided. There has been a dramatic rise in the growth of Pentecostal and neo-Pentecostal churches in Latin America in recent decades, and these ‘sects,’ as they are often called in Catholic circles, have significantly threatened Catholic hegemony. In some cases, Catholics have responded to the challenges that Pentecostals have presented by adapting Pentecostal practices to a Catholic faith. The Irish-American priest who served as pastor of the parish in Indianapolis in 2002 described the remarkable changes that Vatican II

10 Language and Religious Identity

wrought as ‘a very powerful movement of the Spirit … like a second Pentecost.’ In the process of catechism and other church activities before Vatican II, the priest claimed, ‘No one told us, “You have the opportunity to accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior,” then if someone was talking about this in those days, the Protestants were’ (translation from Spanish). He explained that the catechism once failed to provide students with an appreciation of the gospel message, but that since Vatican II, catechumens can make ‘individual’ responses to that message. Vatican II also led to new relationships with the Bible. He recounts, ‘In my house, we had a big, very big Bible, and we put it on the table and we left it there. If we opened it, it was to write down the names of the children. Now we walk around with the Bible in our hands’ (translation from Spanish). This ‘movement of the Spirit,’ with its emphasis on personal encounters with God, Bible studies, and new forms of commitment to the Church, generated diverse initiatives and movements. According to one scholar, Vatican II ‘opened the way for an acknowledgment of the plurality of Catholicisms’ and the ‘legitimate expression of their diversities’ (Hervieu-Léger, 1997, p. 105). Scholars have documented this trend in Latin American Catholicism, in which liberation theology gained strength and acclaim, and then gave way to the new evangelization and the charismatic renewal.3 The new evangelization initiative of 1992 represented perhaps the Church’s most direct response to the challenges presented by the sects in Latin America. On the local level, this initiative resulted in a number of efforts to draw in and ‘convert’ adults who claim a Catholic faith but have a tenuous relationship with the institutional Church. Also on the local level, the new evangelization has granted the charismatic renewal a vital and influential role in the Church. The charismatic renewal is a movement that began through the influences of Pentecostalism in the United States during the 1970s and has generated local, parish-based prayer groups throughout the Americas. Prayer groups meet on a periodic basis in order to experience and make use of charismas – like speaking in tongues – made possible by the Holy Spirit. The Tala and Indianapolis parishes have drawn on the charismatic renewal in different ways to achieve evangelization. The Indianapolis parish’s evangelization strategy has relied principally on a retreat, which was repeated with little modification two or three times a year over the course of several years. The retreat provided space for about 30 people to seclude themselves for two entire days,


during which time they listened to a series of nine presentations by lay leaders, sang songs, discussed the major themes of the retreat in small groups, prayed, and participated in other activities that led them through a process of ‘conversion.’ The parish adapted the format of the retreat from a program called SINE, the Spanish acronym for Integral System for the New Evangelization. A priest from central Mexico developed the program in order to instruct parishioners in the ‘fundamentals’ of the Christian life, and several parishes in Mexico and parts of the United States have implemented it. One of the original purposes of SINE had been to synthesize the charismatic renewal and liberation theology, and accordingly, the retreat was designed to introduce participants to prayers and experiences often associated with the charismatic renewal,4 and to help them to develop a ‘social’ consciousness. The Indianapolis parish, however, did not encourage discussion of social concerns within or beyond the retreat. Rather, it used the retreat as a general means for strengthening the faith of parishioners and bringing them into new forms of commitment to the Church, and as one requirement for adults and adolescents who were preparing for confirmation. The Tala parish did not use the SINE program. Instead, its priests collaborated with leaders of the local charismatic prayer group to hold a series of evangelization sessions for adults throughout the year. This more flexible strategy for evangelization harnessed the enthusiasm and power of the charismatic prayer group, and allowed the priests to devote more time to directing the parish’s youth activities. Leaders of the charismatic group had long been aggressive proponents of a kind of evangelization. Chayo, a woman who led the prayer group, described the changes that she and others had experienced through the charismatic renewal in the following words: ‘We were what you would call comfortable Catholics. In comparison with now, we say, “Yes, this is the word of God.” We make personal prayers to Him. We get close to Him. It’s beautiful. Now we enjoy it’ (translation from Spanish). Prayer meetings constituted the principal focus of the charismatic group, and in Tala, they attracted as many as 200 regular participants every week. Performances of testimonies were regular, prominent features of charismatic prayer meetings in Tala and the SINE retreat in Indianapolis. Because the retreat had been a crucial element in the parish’s growth, testimonies were also sometimes heard in Sunday


masses in Indianapolis. Although many of the hundreds of people who circulated through the doors of the parish on Sunday likely never formulated or told testimonies of their own, many had witnessed performances of brief testimonies by one or more laywomen who were actively involved in the parish’s activities.5 Although they may have witnessed performances of testimonies by laymen too, most of the performers of testimonies within the venues that I have mentioned were women. Although testimonies may be framed in a variety of ways, they are most often rendered in a performance mode of communication. Performances, in which individuals engage in a display of competency and artistry before an audience, have a number of analytical possibilities because, among other attributes, they inherently reflect communal values and ‘are consequential and efficacious ways of accomplishing social ends’ (Bauman, 1994, p. 55). Performances often take place before an audience at a pre-determined time – for example, at a designated time during mass – however, performances can also be spontaneous occurrences and occur during the course of a conversation or interview (Bauman, 2004, pp. 109–10). Performances of Catholic testimonies, wherever they occur, represent important opportunities for analyzing recent changes within the Church and the connection of those changes with the expansion of laywomen’s roles in the Church. Some important points for analysis of a performance are a ‘heightened’ mode of communication and the interplay between performer and audience that sustains it. Folklorist Elaine Lawless (1988a, 1988b) has analyzed women’s performances of testimonies in Pentecostal churches in the Midwestern United States and concluded that women performers achieve a ‘modicum of control over the other participants in the religious service’ and that ‘if performed well, the testimony can serve as a catalyst for general church-wide response’ (Lawless, 1988b, pp. 111–12). Her study, which has shown some of the important emergent dimensions of testimony performances, provides clues to the possibilities for women to exercise new forms of power through the influences of the Pentecostal movement. As Catholics have come to make greater use of testimonies, as well as extemporaneous prayer, they have achieved a ‘previously inaccessible facility with words,’ like Pentecostals, and can bring them to bear ‘as powerful ammunition’ (Coleman, 2000, p. 132).6


Performances of the new evangelization in a transnational parish The remainder of this chapter provides evidence of the specific ways in which Catholic laywomen have exercised greater power in the midst of different initiatives and movements within the Church, challenges presented by alternative religions, and transnational exchanges of different kinds. It pursues an analysis of testimonies performed by two prominent laywomen – one of whom is the organizer and leader of the SINE retreat in Indianapolis, and the other is the leader of the charismatic prayer meeting in Tala – and points out the features of each performance that reveal its effectiveness for eliciting desired responses from listeners. These features include the formal coherence of the discourse presented, elements of ritual speech, poetic techniques, and narrative themes that listeners can relate to their own lives, such as immigration, motherhood, employment, illness and death, which are themes that often become connected with the hope for and experience of a miracle. Both testimonies here highlight the experiences and struggles of motherhood, specifically of being a mother who is required to work outside of the home. Formal coherence refers to the effective use and articulation of the three principal forms of testimonial discourse. The first form is a framing device, or what some scholars have called a ‘preface’ (Ochs and Capps, 2001, p. 117). The framing device, which is often just a short phrase, opens and sets apart a discursive space in which the speaker can perform her testimony. The second form is the narrative, which is told in the first person and recounts the speaker’s personal experiences. A compelling narrative has a ‘linear temporal and causal organization’ (Ochs and Capps, 2001, p. 20), involves a focus on one or more specific episodes in one’s life, includes some illuminating details, and makes use of reported speech to mark important turns in the course of the narrative. The third form is a concluding metanarrative commentary, or a final explication of the narrative. This metanarrative highlights important dimensions of the speaker’s narrative, and makes explicit links between the narrative and surrounding discourse. It often addresses how the speaker’s experience has affected her faith and should affect the faith of her listeners. The use of elements found in other instances of ritual speech, such as certain poetic techniques, is essential for maintaining a heightened


mode of communication in a performance – it insists on the fact that the rendition of a testimony is a kind of ritual action, whereby one takes on a special speaking role. Some elements of ritual speech that are present in testimonies are the use of euphemisms and metaphors, parallelisms and repetitions, and disclaimers of personal volition (Du Bois, 1986). There is also repeated use of figurative language, frequently borrowed from the Bible, whose precise referential content is open to question and debate. Furthermore, effective performances of testimonies, like other genres of ritual speech, make recourse to a marked intonation and meter (McDowell, 1983). These explicit discursive features of testimonies reflect implicit beliefs about what testimonies are supposed to achieve, consistent with shared notions about which registers they respond to and fit within.7 I have found that testimonies constitute one genre of speech within an evangelistic register through which individuals account for and defend their faiths in an effort to bring their listeners to a point of change. This register, which is opposed to academic and scientific kinds of registers, is emotional, intimate and engaging, and it has become more common in the Americas in connection with the changes that I described above. I have heard several Catholic Mexicans refer to this register as hablando bonito, speaking beautifully or nicely, in such a way to console a person and compel her to draw closer to God.8 Performances associated with the new evangelization, including performances within the SINE retreat, recount, act out, and achieve instances of change through hablando bonito. A testimony performance by one of the principal lay leaders in Indianapolis – whom I will call Elena – begins to illustrate how these multiple functions can be achieved simultaneously. Elena, who has been the organizer and leader of the SINE retreats since they began in Indianapolis, has delivered a testimony in almost every retreat as part of a presentation on one of the retreat’s major themes. She has employed the same narrative components for most of these performances, including lengthy, complex accounts of her move from Mexico and the challenges of adjusting to life in the Midwestern United States. The testimony performance that I consider here, which occurred within her presentation on the ‘lordship of Christ,’ is especially long, and I have included transcriptions of only some key segments.


Before Elena began her presentation to the small, diverse group of participants in the retreat, another laywoman introduced her and offered a prayer. In her prayer, she said, ‘Lord, come and anoint Elena with power so that she gives and proclaims your word, so that she can lead us to understand what it means and you are the Lord’ (translation from Spanish). This prayer provided one of many frames for Elena’s presentation, indicating that she would speak as one inspired by the Holy Spirit and deserved heightened attention. Over the course of the next 15 minutes or so, Elena explained what it meant to devote all of oneself to Jesus in the style of a lecture, drawing on Biblical references. She then turned to a few analogies or metaphors to help her and others to clarify where Jesus or God fit in each one’s life. For example, she made a drawing of a circle on a large pad of paper to represent a person’s life, and placed a representation of Christ to the side of the circle to show that Christ had not yet become part of this person’s life. Then she sought to explain her relationship to God in terms of where He is seated in a car that she is driving. This metaphor is a frame that both opened and enclosed her testimony. She said: A Dios lo traemos en la cajuela. Se poncha una llanta lo saco. No lo hago parte de mi vida mas que cuando me conviene. Entonces le digo, ‘Señor, vuélvete a la cajuela. Ya te sacaré cuando te necesite.’ Eso era mi vida. We carry God in the trunk. A tire goes flat I take him out. I don’t make him part of my life except when it’s convenient. So I say, ‘Lord, back to the trunk. I’ll take you out when I need you.’ That was my life. The last phrase is a framing device, which opened a space for a testimony that covered the entire course of her life and illustrated how God’s role in her life had changed. Appropriately, she began with her birth and then described successive stages of her life over the course of more than 30 minutes. Her performance was consistent with the importance that the retreat places on length in order to provide participants with a sense that they have been involved in a significant and exhaustive process, involving a clearly marked separation from


their ordinary daily lives. Furthermore, her long testimony addressed the needs of the participants in another way – she provided a model for reviewing and re-evaluating one’s life for people who had identified themselves as Catholic all of their lives but had not understood or made the commitments that the Church would like them to. Her testimony, like the potential testimonies of her listeners, is not concerned with a singular conversion experience, but with a process of reassessing and reappropriating one’s Catholic identity. Elena explained: Yo nací en Tejas, en una ciudad que está como a tres millas de la división entre México y los Estados Unidos. No sé por qué, porque Dios así tal vez lo dispuso. No debo decir tal vez. No, así lo dispuso. Yo nací allí. I was born in Texas, in a city that is like three miles from the division between Mexico and the United States. I don’t know why, because maybe God wanted it that way. I shouldn’t say maybe. No, that’s the way he wanted it. I was born there. This kind of metanarrative commentary, through which one expresses doubt about God’s role in a particular event and settles that doubt in the same breath, is common in testimonies. In Elena’s case, this commentary ultimately confirmed for her listeners an important point of her testimony: that she was born in Texas, so that she would be able to return to the United States and become a leader in the parish. Elena explained that her mother left her father, apparently because of his indifference toward the daughters, returned to Mexico, and married another man. After Elena moved back to Mexico with her family, she did not become aware of the implications of her US citizenship until she crossed the border as a young adult to go shopping. She recounted the extraordinary consequences that she faced from revealing to Mexican immigration officials her US citizenship: A mí me pasó lo que les pasa a muchos mexicanos aquí. ‘La migra mexicana’ me pescó. Qué ironía ¿iquest;no? Por eso entiendo a las personas que pasan por eso, por esas, esas consecuencias ahora.


I lived through what many Mexicans experience here. The Mexican Immigration officials snagged me. How ironic, don’t you think? That’s why I understand those people who go through that, through those, those consequences today. This last metanarrative commentary again served to reinforce the value of her experience and to justify her current position. Elena then skillfully re-enacted a very vibrant dialogue that took place between her and Mexican immigration officials: A los tres, cuatro días en el trabajo, esos señores llegan, sacan sus plaquitas. ‘Somos de inmigración.’ ‘Ah, pues, mire, ¿usted no nació en los Estados Unidos? Bueno, aquí dice.’ ‘Sí.’ ‘Llenó estas hojas y no ha vuelto a su país.’ ‘¿A mi país? Si yo soy, yo vivo aquí. Aquí están mis padres, están mis hermanas, mi familia.’ ‘Usted está aquí ilegalmente. Usted tiene que volver a Estados Unidos.’ Decía yo, ‘¿Cómo voy a volver a Estados Unidos? Yo no conozco a nadie allá.’ Three, four days later at work, these men come, take out their badges. ‘We are from immigration.’ ‘Ah, well, look here, weren’t you born in the United States? Here it says so.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You filled out these forms, and you haven’t been back to your country.’ ‘To my country? But I am, I live here. Here are my parents, here are my sisters, my family.’ ‘You are here illegally. You have to go back to the United States.’ I said, ‘How am I going to go back to the United States? I don’t know anyone there.’ This part of her testimony was well known within the parish, and was a great source of amusement for the participants in the retreat, as well as for the speaker herself, although she made clear that it was a painful experience. The outcome of this dialogue was that, rather


than pay fines for working ‘illegally’ in Mexico, Elena got married and moved with her new husband to Texas and later to the Midwest. Elena then described the process of moving to the Midwest with her husband and some of the difficulties that she endured, including depression. Here, as in other parts of her testimony, she made use of reported speech to track a series of changes through which she slowly came to recognize a need for God and to draw close to him. She recalled: Quería buscar un, un, una iglesia, dije yo. Allí, allí cuando ese vacío, empiezo poco a poco a reconocer, ‘Yo necesito ese Señor, yo necesito algo con quien desahogarme, echar todo eso, esa soledad que traigo.’ Busco iglesias. Cerradas, porque aquí no abren las iglesias en el día. Era cuando yo quería ir porque cuando estaba abierta era en inglés. Y, y no los entendía, entonces ¿de qué me servía? I wanted to find a, a, a church, there, there with that emptiness, I began to realize little by little, ‘I need that Lord, I need someone with whom I can find release, get rid of all that, that loneliness that I am carrying.’ I look for churches. Closed, because here they don’t open churches in the day. That was when I wanted to go because when it was open it was in English. And, and I didn’t understand, so what good did it do me? The use of reported speech here evoked and dramatized those moments, within a period of great sadness, when she was able to find a voice to speak with God, and to begin to accept and validate God’s plan for her life, which became apparent much later, with a visit from a priest. She recounted: Hace tres años, el Señor nos manda el Padre, y nos toca la puerta, está platicando, vemos, ‘Vamos a empezar esta misa en español.’ Allí, allí para mí quedó claro, y a mi esposo y a mí nos quedó claro cual era nuestra dirección a seguir. Nos acercamos más a Dios. Nos acercamos un poco más, un poco más, no lo suficiente. Three years ago, the Lord sends us Father, and he knocks on our door, he’s chatting, we see, ‘We’re going to start this mass in Spanish.’ There, there, it was clear to me, and it was clear to me


and my husband what was our direction to follow. We got closer to God. We got a little bit closer, a little bit more, but not enough. Then Elena recounted an incident that ultimately led her even closer to God: she received news while at work one day that her teenage daughter had become pregnant. Elena made clear that this incident was one of the greatest tragedies that she had faced, and as she retold it, she began to weep. Elena explained that shortly after receiving this news, she attended a retreat, of the kind that she was leading, and there was able to strengthen her faith, draw closer to God, overcome her disappointment, welcome her new grandson, and above all, to recognize that God had been guiding her life so that she could assume a place of leadership within the parish. She concluded: Entonces viene nuestro primer retiro y nos damos cuenta de cuántas cosas hemos perdido. Yo, cuántas cosas he perdido, cuánto tiempo tengo que recuperar. Pero cada vez estoy viendo que todo esto, toda mi vida, todo lo que está pasando, era que Dios lo tenía así ya escrito para mí para que yo llegara a este momento en que yo les dijera a ustedes esto lo que les estoy diciendo, pero con una felicidad en mi corazón, con una alegría bonita. Cuando el señor era así [referring to her diagram] … pero hoy ya es parte de mi vida. Ya es parte de mi vida. ¿Se acuerda del carro que íbamos conduciendo? Entonces ya Dios está ya en el asiento atrás conmigo. Ya me dice para dónde voy, qué estoy haciendo. Ya lo traigo conmigo como parte de mi vida Ahora ya digo, ‘Hágase su voluntad,’ solamente. Así puede llegar a ser para todos nosotros. Dejémonos guiar por la mano de él, que él sea el Señor, el amo, el todo, en nuestra vida. And so our first retreat comes, and we realize how many things we have lost. I, how many things I have lost, how much time I have to make up for. But each time I am seeing that all this, all my life, everything that is happening, is that God had it written for me so that I could get to this moment in which I could tell you what I am telling you, but with joy in my heart, with a beautiful happiness. When the Lord was like this [referring to her diagram] … but today he is part of my life. He is now part of my life.


Do you remember the car that we had been driving? Now God is in the backseat with me. He tells me where to go, what I am doing. I carry him with me as part of my life. Now I say, ‘Let your will be done,’ only. It can be that way for all of us. Let’s let ourselves be guided by his hand, that he be the Lord, the master, the everything, in our life. Elena’s concluding metanarrative commentary is an especially critical component of the testimony performance. It served to situate her narrative within other forms of discourse, to confirm her position as one of the parish’s leaders, to allow her to make demands on her listeners, and to guide her listeners toward a significant conversion experience. Through a shift in the use of pronouns, back to ‘we,’ she included the audience in her testimony, and the audience in turn came to identify with her experience and to find inspiration in her example.9 As a result of this shift, she made recourse to an imperative mode of speech and asked her listeners to follow her example. Her presentation, which became joined with her testimony, ended with a ‘strong sense of closure,’ reinforced by the parallel structures of the closing (Bauman, 1986, p. 70). After Elena ended, the room fell into silence for several seconds, before another lay leader spoke and asked for everyone to remain in a period of meditation for several minutes.

Signs of authority in a charismatic prayer group The second performance that I consider here occurred during a meeting of 14 leaders of the charismatic prayer group in Tala, a context not usually given to these kinds of performance. As the meeting was closing, I was invited to ask questions of the group, and I asked if anyone could tell me about how the group had formed and how he or she had become involved in the group. The group’s leader, whom I will call Chayo, responded first and provided a bit of information about the group, and then she said, ‘I suffered something very bad. That is why I came to Lord, but before that, no. And this is my testimony’ (translation from Spanish). With this preface, she launched into a startling performance, and the pace of her talk slowed and became more measured, as it had been for most public performances that I had witnessed.


The structure of Chayo’s narrative was similar to Elena’s, but her testimony was especially concise. Consistent with the way in which she framed her testimony, she recounted a specific episode that she considered most significant in accounting for her participation in the charismatic renewal and her current position of leadership before me and other listeners. She explained that she had two children, and that one day, when the children were out of school, she sent them out with relatives and then went to work. In the narrative that she constructed, she employed different techniques to foreshadow the terrible loss that she experienced, and made use of reported speech to mark some important turns in the unfolding of her tragic narrative. She continued: Resulta que ese día en la tarde yo me sentí algo raro, pero no, no, no, no supe qué, qué era. Llegó el momento que yo ya me fui arriba. Dije, ‘Voy a preguntar por un compañero allá arriba.’ No me llegan por ningún lado. Entonces me vocearon. Y yo ya bajé y vi la compañera que, que traía un rostro que no me agradó. Luego luego yo le dije, qué pasaba, y ella me hizo – me dijo, ‘Ve a urgencias.’ Ya cuando me dijo eso, pues yo ya [begins to cry], ya fui a urgencias y estaba mi hijo muerto. It turns out that day I felt something strange, but no, no, no, I didn’t know what, what it was. The moment came when I went upstairs. I said, ‘I am going to ask about a friend upstairs.’ They can’t find me anywhere. So they paged me over the loudspeaker. And I went downstairs and saw the coworker who, who had a look on her face that I didn’t like. Right away I asked what was happening, and she made me – told me, ‘Go to the emergency room.’ When she told me that, well I just [begins to cry], I went to the emergency room and found my son dead. She explained that she soon discovered that the boyfriend of her sister had been responsible for the death of her child, and that she became filled with anger and hate toward her sister and the


boyfriend, who later became her brother-in-law. In the midst of her desperation, she described a moment, at which her husband began to speak to her and contributed to a process by which she began to change: Y mi esposo empezó a conocer a Tere. Empezó a arrimarse a la oración, y él me hablaba, ‘Mira, hay un Dios,’ y me hablaba muy bonito. ‘A mí no me hables de Dios. No me hables de Dios.’ Entonces ya empecé yo, ‘Señor, si tu existes, dame una prueba realmente. Quiero conocerte más.’ Yo duré con todo ese peso, ese sufrimiento todo un año. Y mi hija de siete años, ella vio el accidente, también sufría. And my husband began to get to know Tere. He begin to go to prayer meetings, and he talked, ‘Look, there is a God,’ and he talked to me very nicely. ‘Don’t talk to me about God. Don’t talk to me about God.’ So then I began, ‘Lord, if you exist, give me real proof. I want to know you more.’ I had lived with that weight, that suffering for all of a year. And my daughter was seven years old. She saw the accident, and she also was suffering. In this segment, like Elena, Chayo reported instances of her own speech in order to illustrate the process of change in her faith, culminating in a moment in which she finds a voice with which she can address God and make a critical appeal to him. The point at which she had a change of heart, however, is not clear. She continued, recounting that she became more involved in the charismatic prayer group and that one day she approached her sister and brother-in-law, forgave them and asked them for forgiveness. She then concluded her narrative with the following metanarrative: Entonces seguimos adelante. Empecé más a tener más encuentros con Dios, más profundo, amarlo, conocerlo realmente. Entonces esto es lo que me hizo a mí encontrarme con el Señor. Aumentó mi fe y lo empecé a conocer, empecé a amarlo. Y todavía seguimos. Este es mi testimonio, que el Señor me tocó de esa manera. Solamente de esa manera podía yo voltear así a él. Porque, tu sabes, de otra manera,


me ha llegado más cosas, pero no, no me había volteado yo con él hasta que … Y ahora digo, ‘Ya no me acuerdo de mi hijo.’ Ahora digo, ‘Gracias, Señor, por ese hijo, por ese hijo.’ Yo quiero seguir conociéndolo. And so we have continued to move forward. I started to have more encounters with God, deeper ones, to love him, to really know him. So this is what made me come to the Lord. It increased my faith, and I began to know him. I began to love him. And still here we are. This is my testimony, that the Lord touched me in that way. Only in that way could I turn like this to him. Because, you know, any other way, I have had to go through other things, but no, I hadn’t turned to him until … And now I say, ‘I don’t remember my son.’ Now I say, ‘Thank you, Lord, for that son, for that son.’ I want to continue to get to know him. Although I had created the conditions for Chayo to tell her testimony, it resembled a ritual performance, and had effects similar to what ritual performances produce. Like Elena’s testimony, the testimony concluded with metanarrative involving a shift in pronouns and made use of repetitions or parallelisms to achieve closure. The strategies that the metanarrative employed, however, had different objectives. For one, the shift to the use of ‘we’ was not necessarily to bring listeners to identify with her, but to recognize that most listeners have already identified with her and followed her. She closed her performance by saying, ‘Here are my other colleagues who can also share something’ (translation from Spanish). Chayo’s testimony is, in fact, well known, but having performed it in that way, she was able to elicit responses from the others present – some of the women present had cried, and others referred to her performance in the brief discussion that followed. One of the members mentioned that they all had to experience something ‘like this,’ like Chayo’s experience, in order to draw closer to God and to the Church. Like other testimonies, Chayo’s testimony combined direct affirmation of central beliefs, with a reformulation of one’s understanding and


relationship to those beliefs, through a rhetorical process that involved speaker and listeners in a significant communal experience, and opened the possibilities to change through the authoritative voice of the speaker. Her performance, like Elena’s, involved direct communal participation. As Csordas has suggested, testimonies are ‘best described not as individual behavior but as the collective performance of self in ritual terms’ (1997, p. 50). Although individual experience takes on new importance, it only does so through its relationship to the communities in which the experiences can be or are recounted.

The power of women’s testimonies Historian Robert Orsi has argued that women immigrants, dealing with shifts in economic demands, often turn to religion as a way of addressing the difficulties of being ‘at the center of family conflict,’ being more vulnerable to a range of societal pressures, and on the cusp of ‘social change’ ((1996, pp. 40, 68–9).10 Other scholars have added to this insight through ethnographic research, claiming that women can experience an expansion of their roles within their religious communities in the midst of changes like immigration and urbanization (Brown, 1991; Ebaugh and Chafetz, 1999). The testimonies considered in this chapter provide examples of some challenges that women have experienced as part of ongoing social and economic changes in the Americas, and evidence of ways in which testimony performances can transform these experiences – whether of immigrant, professional woman, wife or mother – into bases of authority within Catholic communities. The effectiveness of each performance, as I have shown, depended on different factors, beginning with the performer’s sensitivity to the contexts in which the performance occurred. Both Elena and Chayo demonstrated this sensitivity through skillful use of framing devices, through the length and detail of their narratives, and through metanarratives that responded to the objectives of each performance event. Another factor was the dramatization displayed in the narratives, achieved in part through the use of reported speech, so that the narratives provided not just accounts of change, but models of change that listeners could identify with and follow. Another factor, perhaps the most important, was the use of authoritative speech as part of the concluding metanarrative, through which performers could transform


their performances into a significant ritual experience for everyone present. Anthropologist Susan Gal has encouraged scholars to focus less attention on women’s participation in decision-making, and to consider women’s response to or participation in forms of power that ‘define social reality’ and ‘impose visions of the world’ (1995, p. 178). Although the movements that allowed for the rise of a testimonial tradition within the Catholic Church have been under the direction of a male priesthood and may have reinforced, in some cases, the authority of the priesthood, they have also permitted a greater flexibility in the use of personal judgment and interpretation in the formation of contemporary Catholic communities, and in this way provided space for developing forms of leadership that may work in conjunction with priests and sometimes against priests.11 Women have, within this space, made use of testimonies as means of grappling with changes in and beyond the Catholic Church and ultimately defining those changes for many laymen and women. They have both responded to, and participated in, those forms of power that define Catholic faith and practice for hundreds, if not thousands. Although these women’s leadership of and influence among men is limited, their performances, eliciting applause, moments of meditation, or tears have become central elements in the practices of these different movements and church activities. They are memorable, repeatable points of reference that guide the ongoing processes of change and conversion within Mexican Catholic communities.

Notes 1. Catholic historian Jay Dolan reports, ‘By 1999, as many as 29,146 laypeople and religious were working as paid parish ministers in the nation’s Catholic parishes. Eighty-two per cent of these parish ministers were women, and seven out of ten were lay people’ (Dolan, 2002, p. 229). 2. Sociologist Ruth Wallace has conducted detailed ethnographic research on women’s leadership in Catholic churches in the United States, and has documented the different ways in which women’s leadership has contributed to positive changes in the administration of local parishes and the faith of parishioners (Wallace, 1992). I do not know of any similar kind of research in Latin America, which could reveal the ways in which women’s leadership has affected the faith and practices of Latin American Catholics. 3. Liberation theology failed to generate and sustain ecclesial base communities in an arena of competing alternatives (Burdick, 1999), and liberation


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9. 10.

11.

theology became a basis for ongoing religious reforms, rather than social transformation. One scholar contends: ‘The campaign initiated by the liberationist clergy, when confronted with the great autonomy of the laity, produced unexpected consequences it simply offered new opportunities for the laity to follow their own path of religious action’ (De Theije,1999, p. 118). The SINE retreat introduced participants to different ways of receiving the Holy Spirit, and inspired some parishioners in Indianapolis to form a charismatic prayer group. This group became quite influential in the parish between 2000 and 2003, while at the same time generating controversy. Testimonies in mass usually took place at a time reserved for announcements by lay leaders, just before the priest’s final blessing. These performances often lasted just a few minutes, and usually ended with an invitation to participate in either charismatic prayer meetings or in evangelization retreats. Robin Shoaps has pointed out that in Pentecostal practice ‘notions of the speaking subject and ideologies of religious experience demand nearidentity between author and animator,’ and she contrasts these aspects of Pentecostal speech with the recitations that have characterized Catholic speech, like the rosary, where the authors of speech are distinct from the speaker (Shoaps, 2002, p. 54). The changes that I have described, however, suggest that some Catholics have also become both ‘authors’ and ‘animators’ of religious speech. The degree to which such beliefs are shared between a speaker and her audience can determine the performance’s effectiveness. An appreciation of the efficacy of religious speech, as Webb Keane has claimed, ‘requires examination of formal characteristics of speech performance and the explicit beliefs or implicit assumptions that accompany them’ (Keane, 1997, p. 51). One Catholic laywoman, during an interview, recalled an encounter with a Pentecostal woman during her son’s illness: ‘And she talked to me so beautifully. And she said, “Look, brothers, have faith in God. God is going to help your child to get better. And we’re going to say a prayer” ’ (translation from Spanish). This shift in pronouns also often occurs in sermons during climatic moments (McDowell, 1973, p. 142). Different scholars – noting the common saying among migrants and immigrants, ‘in the north, the woman gives the orders’ – have attempted to understand the ways in which gender roles have changed in the process of migration and immigration (Reyna and Herrera-Sobek, 1998, p. 206; Hirsch, 2002). Elena is identified with the official church and in interactions with me, has been reluctant to criticize anyone of authority in the church. By contrast, the charismatic prayer groups in Tala and Indianapolis have had strained relationships with diocesan authorities. Marcia Farr has connected the


charismatic movement to a trend of ‘increasing literacy and religious knowledge’ among women, through which they are authorized to challenge church leaders (Farr, 2005, p. 308).

Works cited Bauman, R. (1977). Verbal Art as Performance. Austin: University of Texas Press. Bauman, R. (1986). Story, Performance and Event: Contextual Studies of Oral Narrative. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bauman, R. (1994). Informing performance: Producing the Coloquio in Tierra Blanca. Oral Tradition 9, 255–80. Bauman, R. (2004). A World of Others’ Words: Cross-Cultural Perspectives on Intertextuality. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Brown, K. M. (1991). Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn. Berkeley: University of California Press. Burdick, J. (1998). Blessed Anastácia: Women, Race and Popular Christianity in Brazil. New York: Routledge. Coleman, S. (2000). The Globalisation of Charismatic Christianity: Spreading the Gospel of Prosperity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Csordas, T. (1997). Language, Charisma, and Creativity: The Ritual Life of a Religious Movement. Berkeley: University of California Press. Dolan, J. (2002). In Search of American Catholicism: A History of Religion and Culture in Tension. New York: Oxford University Press. De Theije, M. (1999). CEBs and Catholics in Brazil. In C. Smith and J. Prokopy (eds), Latin American Religion in Motion. New York: Routledge. Du Bois, J. (1986). Self-evidence and ritual speech. In W. Chafe and J. Nichols (eds), Evidentiality: The Linguistic Coding of Epistemology. Norwood, NJ: Ablex. Ebaugh, H. and Chafetz, J. (1999). Agents for cultural production and structural change: The ironic role of women in immigrant religious institutions. Social Forces 78(2), 585–613. Farr, M. (2005). Literacy and religion: Reading, writing, and gender among Mexican women in Chicago. In M. Farr (ed.), Latino Language and Literacy in Ethnolinguistic Chicago. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Gal, S. (1995). Language, gender and power: An anthropological review. In K. Hall and M. Bucholtz (eds), Gender Articulated: Language and the Socially Constructed Self. New York: Routledge. Hervieu-Léger, D. (1997). Faces of Catholic transnationalism: In and beyond France. In S. H. Rudolph and J. Piscatori (eds), Transnational Religion and Fading States. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Hirsch, J. (2002). Qué pues con el pinche NAFTA: Gender, power and migration between western Mexico and Atlanta. Urban Anthropology and Studies of Cultural Systems and World Economic Development 31, 351–89. Keane, W. (1997). Religious language. Annual Review of Anthropology 26, 47–71. Lawless, E. (1988a). God’s Peculiar People: Women’s Voices and Folk Tradition in a Pentecostal Church. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky.


Lawless, E. (1988b). The night I got the Holy Ghost: Holy Ghost narratives and the Pentecostal conversion process. Western Folklore 47, 1–19. McDowell, J. H. (1973). Performance and the folkloric text: A rhetorical approach to ‘The Christ of the Bible.’ Folklore Forum 6, 139–48. McDowell, J. H. (1983). The semiotic constitution of Kamsá ritual language. Language in Society 12, 23–46. Norget, K. (1999). Progressive theology and popular religiosity in Oaxaca, Mexico. In C. Smith and J. Prokopy (eds), Latin American Religion in Motion. New York: Routledge. Ochs, E. and Capps, L. (2001). Living Narrative: Creating Lives in Everyday Storytelling. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Orsi, R. (1996). Thank You, St. Jude: Women’s Devotion to the Patron Saint of Hopeless Causes. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Peterson, A. (2001). The only way I can walk: Women, Christianity, and everyday life in El Salvador. In A. Peterson, M. Vásquez, and P. Williams (eds), Christianity, Social Change, and Globalization in the Americas. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Reyna, J. and Herrera-Sobek, M. (1998). Jokelore, cultural differences and linguistic dexterity: The construction of the Mexican immigrant in Chicano humor. In D. Maciel and M. Herrera-Sobek (eds), Culture across Borders. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Shoaps, R. (2002). Pray earnestly: The textual construction of personal involvement in Pentecostal prayer and song. Journal of Lingustic Anthropology 12(1), 34–71. Wallace, R. (1992). They Call Her Pastor: A New Role for Catholic Women. Albany: State University of New York Press.

2 The Interplay of Language, Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender: A Case Study of Hispanic Churches in Lancaster, Pennsylvania Neryamn Rivera Nieves and Roxana Delbene Rosati

This chapter focuses on the interplay of ethnicity and gender as variables that may have an impact on language selection (Spanish/ English) among Hispanic populations in the context of their Catholic and Protestant churches. The study takes place in Lancaster City, Pennsylvania. By Hispanic, we mean an umbrella term that comprises a group of people from different nationalities such as Caribbean, and Central and South American. Under this term, we include those who have recently immigrated as well as those who are of Hispanic descent. We consider Hispanics as an ‘ethnic group’ following Fishman (1972). This is a group which is just like a nationality, except that it presents a level of socio-cultural organization that is ‘simpler, smaller, more particularistic, [and] more localistic’ (Fishman, 1972, p. 3). Thousands of Hispanics who immigrate to the United States find not only spiritual comfort by attending church services but also opportunities for social networking, job training, and other beneficial services. While some of these immigrants have not previously attended religious services in their native countries, they start doing so upon their arrival as a way to combat loneliness, sense of detachment, and poverty (Bidegain, 2006). As one Hispanic woman said, ‘En este país para poder integrarse hay que hacerse miembro de una iglesia, si no 29


te quedas aislada’ (‘In this country in order to assimilate, one must become a member of a church, otherwise, you remain isolated’). Many of these people end up converting and becoming regular members of the churches. One relevant aspect of the acculturation processes that Hispanic immigrants and their descendants experience is the need for acquiring English language. In our view, the Hispanics’ need for acculturation unfolds a social and even religious problem for their churches. This problem concerns the linguistic decisions of their services and church activities in general. On the one hand, Spanish is the language that ethnically represents their culture, but, on the other hand, English is the language they need to learn for social mobility and as a symbol of their American dream. As mentioned by Silva Corvalán (2001), the 1990 Census reports that 65 per cent of Hispanics that declared speaking Spanish at home were also highly competent in English. According to Silva Corvalán (2001), Hispanics’ intentions to acquire English are embodied in the English Plus movement. This movement acknowledges the status of English as the national language, but claims the maintenance of the native languages as an expression of cultural diversity. Fishman stresses the role that language plays in the construction of nationalisms and social identity along with culture, religion, and history. As he points out, ‘a language is not only a vehicle for the history of a nationality, but a part of history itself’ (Fishman, 1972, p. 44). Within this theoretical framework, we consider that the Spanish language constitutes a symbolic bond that unifies Hispanics, in spite of the fact that the youngest generations are less likely to be proficient in Spanish (Hudson, Hernández-Chávez and Bills, 1995; Silva Corvalán, 2001). When one interviewee was asked if his church would be the same if English were spoken, he replied, ‘Yo creo que no porque la iglesia es una iglesia hispana, esta compuesta por hispanos’ (‘I believe not because the church is a Hispanic church, it is composed of Hispanics’). This man’s statement illustrates the attachment to Spanish as a mark of social and religious identity. However, it was many decades ago that by means of the subjective reaction test, sociolinguists, such as William Labov (1966), showed that speakers’ verbal behaviors could differ from their beliefs about the ways they talk when under pressure of social motivation. If we consider Fishman’s definition of language as part of history itself, we need to think that the Spanish language, and its interplay

Interplay: Language, Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender 31

with English, is a constant reminder to Hispanics of the imperialist domination of the United States over Latin American since the nineteenth century (Gonzalez, 2000). For this reason, another role that language plays in nationalism and ethnic groups is what Fishman calls ‘contrastive self-identification,’ (1972) and Garvin and Hathiot the ‘unifying and separatist functions’ (1956). These terms point to the ideological function of language in helping identify, or separate, ethnic groups. One of the aspects we want to examine here concerns whether these unifying and separatist functions associated with ethnicity play a role in language selection in the context of the Hispanic churches in Lancaster. The other aspect concerns the variable of gender. Stereotypically, women have been seen as ‘guardians of the minority language’ (Burton 1994, p. 2). Since Spanish is a minority language in the United States when compared to English in terms of prestige, we want to examine whether Hispanic women reproduce gender expectations as guardians of Spanish in these churches or, rather, contribute to a language shift to English.

Lancaster community and its Hispanic churches Lancaster City is an interesting place to study Hispanic churches because the community is still relatively small. While Lancaster has been traditionally associated with the Amish and Pennsylvania Dutch communities, its increasing Hispanic immigration, since the last century, has substantially modified the ethnic characteristics of its population (Schuyler, 2002).1 Many Hispanics came directly from Latin America and received the support of different Churches, such as the Mennonite Church. Others left the Bronx, New York, in the 1970s and 1980s fleeing poverty and criminality. As they arrived at Lancaster, they became the founders of different Hispanic churches, such as the Adventist and Pentecostal. According to the Lancaster General Hospital Pastoral Services, there are approximately 120 churches in Lancaster City. Out of these, about 30 churches can be identified as Hispanic. However, among the Hispanic churches, there is a great variety of religious credos – each labeled differently by denominational affiliation or independent status. In our analysis, five churches are included: Catholic, Mennonite,


United Methodist, Adventist, and Pentecostal.2 Because of confidentiality reasons, the names of the churches cannot be provided and participants’ names were changed.

Data and methods of collection The data were collected by one of the authors who is a native resident of the Lancaster Hispanic community and, also, a participant at one of the churches in the study. Her social network was of enormous help in gaining access to the different religious communities. The other author is not religious and does not belong to the Lancaster Hispanic community. The data collection was achieved by means of participant observation. This included: note-taking, recording of services and Bible lessons, as well as conducting semi-structured interviews with ministers and followers of the different churches.3 The researcher attended church services that were offered in Spanish, including the ministers’ sermons and Bible lessons, and she conversed with the followers of each church in casual conversations. The researcher at times carried an ‘iPod’ in her hand or purse, with a microphone attached as a recording device. In this manner, she managed to digitally collect a total of 15 hours and 48 minutes of speech. The Bible lessons that were recorded comprise: two adult women’s classes, one youth class, and three classes addressed to both adult men and women. However, this selection does not represent all the Bible lessons offered by every church. A total of 15 semi-structured interviews were conducted with leaders of the churches, such as pastors and a priest, as well as regular attendees. This comprises a total of four hours and 42 minutes. The purpose of these interviews is to consider the believers’ insights, which are used to triangulate our analysis of the data.

Evangelization and the churches’ linguistic decisions Most of the Hispanic churches studied share the fact that, historically, they separated from their respective Anglo churches. This separation was motivated by the need to fulfill not only religious sentiments but also to preserve ethnic, cultural, and linguistic attachments to their


roots. Hispanic churches are still under religious pressure to grow while keeping their ministries attractive for their followers. They are also under a sociolinguistic pressure to communicate in the language that their followers understand and speak. Consequently, all these churches face linguistic decisions which are crucial for their existence and growth; for example, all churches offer either monolingual Spanish or English services, but the Hispanic Pentecostal church offers systematic, simultaneous interpretations, particularly in the Sunday night service. All the churches coincide in offering Spanish for the adults and English for the youth, young adults, and children. Also, while offering English services, the Catholic and Methodist churches have decided to maintain the lyrics of the songs in Spanish. In our view, the five churches of our study face at least two salient linguistic problems that manifest their struggles with their linguistic decisions. One problem concerns the different degrees of proficiency observed among the three family generations that attend. While grandparents speak Spanish, parents may or may not speak Spanish, but prefer to speak in English with their offspring. These generational and linguistic distinctions foreground that while all are in the same church, participants’ cultural and religious worldviews may eventually differ because of their different language experiences. If critical, this situation may become a challenge for the churches that could see families splitting over different churches because of language preferences. Another similar problem is the different degrees of proficiency between recent immigrants, those who arrived at Lancaster several decades ago, and those born in the United States from Hispanic ancestors. Because of this bilingual and changeable reality, Hispanic churches need to constantly redefine their social and religious strategies with their communities. In other words, each Church, as institution, has to define whether to maintain their loyalties to the newcomers or to the Anglo mainstream culture in which the settlers are living. These decisions will be manifested in the languages choices adopted in services. In order to understand the impact that ethnicity and gender may have on language choice among Hispanic followers in Lancaster, it is necessary to discuss the linguistic decisions made by their respective churches. We suggest that the churches’ linguistic decisions may have an impact on the community. If the service is monolingual in Spanish,


this decision may have an impact on Spanish maintenance but, by the same token, the church may risk losing the youth, who tend to be English-dominant. Simultaneously, if the service is monolingual in English, it may impact language shift to English, but also risks losing adults who do not identify with religious services in English. Thus, churches face conflicting religious, social, and linguistic agendas as we describe in more detail below. The Hispanic Catholic church, which comprises the greatest in number of followers and ethnic diversity, on weekends offers four masses in Spanish with no translation into English, and one mass in English for the children. The priest is Anglo, but usually preaches in Spanish. During the English mass, it is worth noting that the lyrics are sung in Spanish. Regarding language selection at this church, an elderly woman, Spanish-dominant, points out that while most of the services are conducted in Spanish, English is currently used among the leaders of the church. Also, English is heavily used with the youth and children and when members of other parishes visit for social activities. Among the Protestant churches, we have studied the Mennonite, Methodist, Adventist, and Pentecostal. The pastor of the Mennonite church who was interviewed seems to be aware of the powerful position that the Church as an institution holds concerning language issues. He said, ‘Los hispanos necesitan hablar español y la iglesia es una buena práctica. Si no lo entienden bien, aquí aprenden’ (‘Hispanics need to speak Spanish and church is good practice. If they do not understand it well, here they learn’). In this pastor’s comment, we read an underlying concern for the risk of Spanish loss, but also an emphasis on the need to strengthen the links between language and ethnicity. Pastora is the pastor of the Methodist church. She was raised in the Bronx, and has been serving in Lancaster for two and a half years. Before her leadership in this church, Pastora recalled delivering her sermons in what she calls ‘Spanglish.’ Once in Lancaster, she expressed the intention to exclusively use a monolingual variety and avoid the ‘mixing.’ Pastora’s intention could be motivated in the need to preach in the same variety spoken by the members of her church. However, Zentella (1997/2004) points out that Spanish/ English code-switching is associated with a sense of ‘linguistic insecurity’ due to the false perception that this verbal behavior reveals lack of knowledge of both languages.


The Adventist church meets primarily on Saturdays for a Bible study in which adults gather in the sanctuary, the youth and children in separate classrooms. Then, all join together for a service in the sanctuary. It is worth noting that in this church, we find participants supporting different linguistic opinions that anticipate opposite functions for the future of the church. Raúl, one of its founders in Lancaster, suggests that the church needs to implement Spanish language programs for their children to help them better identify with their culture. Otherwise, he anticipates that the church will continue to lose the youth to Anglo branches of the Adventist church. On the other hand, the pastor, recently immigrated from Venezuela, considers that the most important function of the church is that of helping new immigrants to overcome social and cultural adaptation. Therefore, he suggests the need to implement English language programs for immigrants as a means of socialization into the United States culture. Hay mucha gente parece mentira que vive en los Estados Unidos, pero no hablan en inglés, especialmente inmigrantes, recién llegados, están completamente perdidos con el inglés. There are many people, unbelievably, who live in the United States, but do not speak English, especially recent immigrants, who are completely lost with English. The Pentecostal church is the largest and oldest Hispanic Protestant church in the city. This church celebrated a life of 50 years, after being founded by four families who emigrated from Puerto Rico. This church holds three services on Sunday: one in English, one in Spanish, and an evening service, primarily held in Spanish, but increasingly more bilingual. At the evening service, the pastor preaches alternating English and Spanish. He has been doing so for the past 12 years. The pastor of the church, born in Puerto Rico but raised in the New York metropolitan area, observed that 12 years ago when he came to Lancaster in order to minister, more Spanish was spoken at the church. The pastor believes that the practice of giving the sermon, simultaneously in both languages, has encouraged Spanish-dominant members to acquire English. From his perspective, English has always been present in the Pentecostal Hispanic churches, especially in addressing the youth and children as well as the material used to teach


these age groups. When the pastor was questioned whether the greater use of English meant a shifting to become an English-dominant church, he replied that that would be a disservice to the immigrants arriving every day. In this comment, we see again the links between language and ethnicity. By emphasizing this aspect, the Pentecostal Hispanic church points to the need for the church to contribute to the socialization process and adaptation of the newcomers to the US mainstream. We observe that, at this point, the philosophy of this church coincides with that of the Adventist church pastor. While conversations with some of the founders of the Pentecostal church show a strong sense of Hispanic identity to be attached to the historically and philosophically Spanishspeaking roots, new members such as Juana, recently immigrated from Puerto Rico, confirm the crucial function that the church plays in helping immigrants to adapt to their new social environment. Juana narrates that one of the reasons she decided to attend the Hispanic Pentecostal church, as opposed to the Anglo church, was its bilingual language policy. Juana explains that in this church, she felt she had the option to learn English while meeting her spiritual needs in Spanish. Juana claims that this bilingual practice allowed her to develop English competence. In the next section, we analyze the ways these churches interact and how their interactive style may also influence language choice among participants.

Religious practices, ways of interaction, and language choice In the five churches that comprise this study, we focus on two particular speech situations (Hymes, 1964) named: the service or mass, and the Bible lessons. By means of the ethnographic observations, listening repeatedly to the tapes, and transcribing the data, we were able to distinguish several speech events that are common to the services of all these churches despite some differences in their religious practices.4 We mention those speech events that we find to be the most representative, but others could be included: (a) preaching, (b) reading of Scriptures, (c) public announcements regarding the community’s activities, and


(d) rituals that form part of the service either lead by the pastor, the priest, or other members. Some of the rituals observed are: (d.i) worshipping God, (d.ii) giving thanks, (d.iii) prayers and petitions, (d.iv) communion, and (d.v) songs. While we find these speech events (a-d) to be common to all the churches’ services, we also observe a distinction in the degree of participation and involvement of the attendees. This degree of participation has to do probably with each Church’s philosophical and religious approaches as well as historical background. For reasons of space, we cannot analyze these different ideological approaches here. We can say, however, that attendees’ interactions in the Protestant churches are characterized by a more spontaneous, individual, and dialogic modality. This does not mean that these interventions are not regulated. It only means that attendees’ participations are less regulated by the pastors’ verbal cues (Gumperz, 1982). Therefore, attendees are more likely to individually manage their turns, such as responding to others’ utterances or expressing their individual feelings during the events. On the other hand, we observe that the Hispanic Catholic church presents the most verbally structured and regulated service of all the churches studied. With the exception of the Bible lessons in which individual interactions are elicited by means of a question–answer modality, the service of the Catholic church is highly monologic. This is because the priest regulates the turn-taking of the attendees by means of specific verbal cues such as, ‘Repetimos en coro “te alabamos Jesús”’ (‘We all repeat in chorus, “we praise you Jesus” ’). Another characteristic of the interactions in the Catholic church is that the whole congregation at once performs many of the attendees’ participations, in a unified, choral style. Therefore, individual expressions seldom occur in the Hispanic Catholic church mass. On the contrary, in most of the Protestant churches of our study, attendees are expected to engage in individual and emotional communications with others. As we see in Excerpt 1, the pastor encourages attendees to commit in individual participation by either singing or expressing their emotions along with the leader.


Excerpt 1 Leader: Ahora vamos con nuestra hermana Sophia. Aleluya. Y no se olviden hermanos, vamos nosotros, ah, a compartir con ella, aleluya. Leader: Now let’s go with our sister Sophia. Hallelujah. And do not forget brothers, we are going, ah, to participate with her, hallelujah. We anticipate that the churches’ ways of interaction involving their liturgical and interactive styles have an impact on the participants’ language selection, as we will develop in the next section.

Monologic versus dialogic ways of interaction and gender distinctions Between Hispanic Protestant and Catholic services, we distinguish different ways of interaction. While the Hispanic Protestant churches favor a dialogic modality, that is, I’m replying to you and/or talking aloud to God, the Hispanic Catholic church favors a monologic modality, that is, We, as a chorus, are replying to God. This distinction is observed in the ways of interaction of each religious community. The choral responses, led by the priest on the one hand, and the individual responses or ‘attendees’ turns’ on the other, are observed in the Catholic and Protestant churches respectively. The relevance in discussing these different interactive modalities (dialogic and monologic) is twofold: more dialogic interactive modalities may promote more individual self-expression along with the enactment of their language of choice. Also, more dialogic modalities of interaction in church may foster women’s public self-expressions along with the enactment of their language of choice since they may feel safer to take the floor in public. As a matter of fact, if we consider the case of ‘attendees’ turns,’ we observe that men and women use their turns differently. Attendees’ turns We define attendees’ turns as individual turn-taking that takes place during the service in an unplanned or planned manner. In the case of unplanned turns, attendees take the floor spontaneously and


unsolicited to narrate a personal story or to express their feelings. If planned, the participant expects that s/he will take the floor during the service to talk about any personal concerns. It is worth noting that in our data all the unplanned attendee’s turns correspond to women. This is the case of Sophia in Excerpts 2(a) and 2(b) (Mennonite church) and Marta in Excerpt 3 (Pentecostal church). The planned attendee’s turn corresponds to Horacio in Excerpt 4 (Mennonite church). We analyze the excerpts below. Excerpt 2(a) Sophia: Todavía no lo saben pero he recibido una [revelación] You don’t know this but I have received [a revelation]5 Excerpt 2(a) shows an unplanned attendee’s turn performed by a woman during the service in which the congregation was worshipping God. Suddenly, in tears of emotion, Sophia took the turn at the end of the singing event to say that she had experienced a sort of epiphany and she would like everybody to sing along with her. After announcing her intentions in Spanish, she switches to English in order to express her feelings. Excerpt 2(b) Sophia: It means so much to me. Because singing this song it really touches your heart, because when I heard it really touches my heart, and I’d like to sing it in church. Because I know when we’ll sing this song tonight that something is going to happen. We analyze that since the whole time of worship and singing were performed in Spanish, this has influenced Sophia’s use of Spanish in Excerpt 2(a). However, we speculate that her switch from Spanish to English is due to the fact that in order to express her emotions, Sophia shifts to her dominant language, English. In fact, Sophia was born and raised in Lancaster and is a youth about to graduate from an English-dominant high school. The shift to English would indicate that her behavior is regulated by her individual dominant language since no institutional constraints seem to prevent her from so doing.


The next example of an unplanned ‘attendee’s turn’ takes place in the Pentecostal Church. In this example (Excerpt 3), Marta, a Spanish-dominant Puerto Rican, takes the turn to narrate the day in which she was informed that her children had had a car accident. In her report speech, Marta reproduces the other speaker’s intention in the same language that the speaker addressed to her, that is, English; but she immediately switches to Spanish to report the referential meaning of the message.6 Excerpt 3 Marta: … porque cuando me dieron la noticia … . ‘I’m sorry porque no me gusta darte esta noticia.’ Y yo le dije: no me diga eso porque yo estoy tranquila. ‘I’m relax.’ Le tenia que hablar en inglés porque me hablaron en inglés. ‘No me diga eso.’ Y le dije aún más, ‘Dios proveerá.’ Marta: … because when they gave me the news … . ‘I’m sorry because I don’t like giving you this news.’ And I told her: don’t tell me that because I’m calm. ‘I’m relax.’ I had to speak to her in English because she spoke to me in English. ‘Do not tell me that.’ And I told her even more, ‘God will provide.’ An interesting point is that she clarifies to her audience that she had to respond to the hospital personnel in English because she was addressed in English. Gal (1979), Hill and Hill (1980), and Gumperz (1977) have all noticed that there is some tendency in bilingual settings to quote people in the language of the original utterance. However, Gumperz (1977) points out that bilinguals do not always quote in the original language and their decision, whether or not to do so, probably has communicative significance. We do not know for sure, what Marta means by clarifying to her audience that she had to speak in English with that person. Her clarification sounds as if she was constrained to use English due to the other person’s choice or language dominance. By code-switching while reporting, she is expressing that selection of any language is, precisely, not constrained in her church, and she seems to prefer Spanish. The final example of ‘attendee’s turn’ corresponds to Horacio (Excerpt 4). His turn was planned since the pastor announced that


Horacio was going to address the congregation. In his turn, Horacio apologizes to his daughters for having made a mistake. Excerpt 4 Horacio: Y yo se sé que a veces alabado sea el señol uno es humano, OK? Uno e humano y uno comete torpezas, alabado sea el señol, OK? … . Y en este lugar alabado sea el señol adelante de toda la congregación Yo quiero pedir perdón. Horacio: And I know that at times, praise be the Lord, one is human, ok? One is human and one commits errors, praised be the Lord, ok? … And in this place, praised be the Lord, before the entire congregation I want to ask for forgiveness. While it seems to have taken a lot of Horacio’s courage to apologize in public, we recall that his turn was planned since he was aware that he had to address the congregation that day. This is an important point to us. When Horacio’s turn is compared to Sophia’s and Marta’s, we see that all of them are able to express their concerns and feelings regardless of gender differences that have depicted women as more verbally and emotionally oriented. However, we stress the fact that in these data, women do so even in an unplanned and spontaneous manner. The impact of this verbal behavior is that women may be more likely than men to participate publicly and express themselves more often when in the social context of these churches. Therefore, they may be more likely to have an influence in language selection and language transmission. We will return to this point in our next section when we address the role that men and women play in the services. We argue that the fact that the Hispanic Catholic and the Hispanic Protestant churches differ in their organizational structures of interaction has an impact on participants’ language selection. We have speculated that churches that have more dialogic organizations of interaction and encourage individual participation promote the emergence of that person’s dominant language as well as some level of acquisition of the other persons’ language. On the other hand, more monologic organizations, which encourage choral responses from the congregation, promote the language that has been institutionally chosen by the church. In this case, it would be Spanish. However, this


Spanish variety used at church ceremonies may run the risk of becoming ritualized and may not be spoken in other contexts. This may lead, eventually, to language death. Returning to our prior inquiry regarding the role of ethnicity and according to the participants’ testimonies, we could observe that ethnicity does play a role in language selection during religious ceremonies. Certainly, language choice is influenced by contrastive self-identification (Fishman, 1972) and unifying and separatist functions (Garvin and Hathiot, 1956) as claimed by the authors. However, this variable does not play a role in isolation from other factors. As we have discussed, the mere interactive modalities of the Catholic, as well as Protestant churches, also influence the participants’ languagechoice behavior. Below, we develop the analysis of gender roles in church and its impacts on language choices.

Gender roles and language choices In order to answer our second inquiry, we analyze the role of women in these churches along with their language choices. As observed by Gal, ‘sexual differentiation of speech is expected to occur whenever a social division exists between the roles of men and women – that is universally’ (1978/1984, p. 294). In our study, we find that in all the churches, there is indeed a gender role division observed in the distribution of tasks that participants do and have assigned to them. The question is: What are the tasks that female followers perform while attending church services? In our study, we analyze gender roles as enacted in the following tasks: pastoral work, the teaching of Bible lessons, leading songs, and leading transitional speech events. Pastoral roles. The first, and most obvious, example of this division of tasks is seen in the fact that among the five churches, women do not perform pastoral roles, with the exception of the Methodist Church.7 Bible lessons. The second example of a division of tasks is that in most of the churches, men lead the Bible lessons to adult men. However, women tend to be in charge of the Bible lessons addressed to women, the youth, and the children. By being in charge of the Bible lessons of the children and youth, women hold a certain amount of power


concerning language transmission, language maintenance and shift in churches. Several sociolinguists have already pointed out the crucial role of women in passing their native language to their children (Gal, 1978/1984; Zentella, 1997/2004). As mentioned, most of the Bible lessons were conducted in Spanish for adults, but we have the example of the Pentecostal church in which a female teacher gives the Bible lesson to the youth in English with translations into Spanish. The teacher is bilingual and of Puerto Rican descent. Excerpt 5(a) 1 2 3

Teacher: What’s the Millennium mean? Class: eh.. Teacher: Por un milenio. ¿Cuánto es un milenio? Un milenio son mil año. Mil año OK? A thousand years. Right? A thousand years. Milenio means a thousand years. Mil in Spanish is thousand. Right?

3

Teacher: For a millennium. How long is a millennium? A millennium is one thousand years. One thousand years, OK?

The dominant language of the interaction is English, but Spanish is used when the participants hesitate and the teacher thinks they did not understand the meaning of the word ‘millennium.’ The interesting aspect is that the teacher explains the root of the word ‘mil’ in Spanish in order to say its meaning in English. Then, we see that Spanish is used for clarification purposes. Excerpt 5(b) 1

2 3 2 3

Teacher: There are different jobs here in other words. Right? And there is a distinction between the folks who are given the authority to judge and the folks who are given, ah, who are going to rule with Christ. Group member: Repita Teacher: Ah sí tengo que interpretar, si esta bien. OK. La pregunta fue. La semana pasada dijimos que … Group member: Repeat Teacher: Oh, yes, I need to translate, yes that’s fine. OK. The question was. Last week we said that (…).


We see in the dialogue above that Spanish is used for clarification purposes again. This involves repetition and redundancy of information in case someone did not understand the English explanation. As a matter of fact, there are some Cubans in the group who are relative newcomers to Lancaster and are still acquiring English. Thus, the most important function of the paraphrasing is to guarantee everybody’s understanding of the Scriptures. Extracts 5(a) and 5(b) show that in the Bible lesson addressed to youth, Spanish plays a function of repetition and clarification while English is the target language of the interaction. This may send the message that Spanish is a language of reference; that is, the language of ethnic reference. However, female Bible teachers to youth may contribute to a language shift to English. Songs. Singing as speech event in church constitutes an essential aspect of acknowledging God’s presence and it contributes to creating an atmosphere of community. Women play a leading role in preparing the congregation to sing by means of brief announcements or introductory speeches to the songs. Attendees follow the women singers since the regular participants know the lyrics by heart or read them from a screen. All the songs, in these services, are monolingual in Spanish, with the exception of the Pentecostal Church in which lyrics are sung either in English or Spanish. Regarding gender roles, we suggest that by acting according to the institutional decisions, women are contributing to maintaining Spanish but just as a language of ethnic reference; that is, as a symbolic language that represents the ancestral origin. Singing in Spanish is not sufficient practice or input to guarantee language acquisition or transmission. Women, though, could have a symbolic and inspirational impact on their children who come along with them to the services. Songs may leave an evocative impression on their children that may trigger the interest for Spanish later on in life, but as a second language. Transitional speech events. Finally, we observe that women realize an even subtler task than leading the singing. Women are the voices of what we call, ‘transitional speech events.’ These speech events can be considered more informal and take place in between the other, more formal, ‘ritualistic speech events.’ Examples of transitional speech events can be noticed in all the churches, but we see these tasks


performed by women most clearly in the Adventist Church; for instance, women are the voices of: (a) guests’ introductions; (b) reading the statistics of attendees; (c) announcing the amount of the collections; (d) helping the pastor in the liturgical event; and others. On the other hand, ritualistic speech events are worshipping, praying, giving thanks, and others that constitute institutional parts of the service. While women are the voices of the church domestic issues, men’s tasks are mostly related to the ritualistic speech events and to the more formal, and institutional, activities such as preaching, giving communion, verbal worship, and reading from the Scriptures. We did not find a linguistic specialization for the distribution of English versus Spanish to be associated respectively with the performance of transitional versus ritualistic activities in church. Hispanic churches are consistently using Spanish in the monolingual services and consistently offering interpretations in the bilingual services. Furthermore, we did not find a linguistic specialization for the use of English or Spanish involving women and men performing these different activities. However, as an interesting point, we want to mention that during the realization of ritualistic speech events, a shift to the peninsular variety of Spanish was heard. This shift can be explained by the fact that followers are reading from the Scriptures, which are translated to the peninsular variety. There is a strong influence of the peninsular variety since the Spanish Bible translation used, most often, is the Reina Valera 1960 (see George, 2004, for further research). In addition, we need to mention that the peninsular variety enjoys more prestige and is commonly seen as the ‘most correct Spanish,’ or as the ‘true Spanish.’ This perception is observed even among Hispanics (Stavan, 2003; Quintanilla, 2006). Because women are also assigned to read from the Scriptures, we cannot assert that men were heard speaking in the peninsular variety exclusively; but if men are those more frequently in charge of conducting the ritualistic speech events, then it is logical to affirm that men will be using this variety more often. And, eventually, this variety may end up being associated with male speech. In sum, we argue that by representing the domestic voices of the churches, women are reproducing stereotypical gender roles. Women take care of the domestic aspects of the churches as they are expected to take care of their families. In addition, the domestic and transitional tasks performed by women, in Spanish, confirms, at least partially, the


use of this language associated with the family domain. This assertion ratifies other authors’ pioneering studies, such as Laosa’s (1975) quoted in Fasold (1984, p. 186). Laosa (1975) examined language selection between Spanish and English in three contexts, and found that the use of Spanish was most often reported in the family context, less often in the recreation context, and least often in the classroom.

Conclusion By means of ethnographic methodology, we analyzed Hispanics’ selection of language (Spanish/English) in the context of Catholic and Protestant Hispanic churches in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We focused on the variables of ethnicity and gender as variables that could play a role in the language choice of the followers. We find these variables to be intrinsically entrenched in other subtle and more complex subvariables. These are the churches’ decisions concerning the language to be used in the services, which imply their strategies for evangelization as well as the churches’ own liturgical and interactive styles. We found that in order to explain how ethnicity and gender play a role in Hispanics’ language selection in church, we needed to understand the influence of these other variables on participants’ verbal behaviors. This is because Hispanic churches are not only religious centers but also centers for socialization and cultural adaptation devoted to immigrants and their descendants. We suggest that churches (for example, the Pentecostal, as the clearest example) which implement bilingual services, promote more successfully the acquisition either of English or Spanish, as well as the maintenance of Spanish, than those churches that have only implemented a monolingual strategy (for example, the Catholic church). This is because monolingual practices do not fulfill the social and economic needs of the Hispanics (acquisition of English, as well as maintenance or acquisition of Spanish). Also the monolingual strategy may create conflict among members, and within the same families, who may split by attending other churches. We agree with the insights of some participants such as Raúl’s of the Adventist church, who anticipates the risk of losing followers if congregations do not take decisions to implement bilingual services immediately. One of these linguistic decisions already made consists of maintaining Spanish lyrics in English services as well as using Spanish for the


purpose of repeating or clarifying information in the Bible lessons, as we analyzed above. In this manner, Spanish in church comes to play a ‘unifying and separatist function’ (Garvin and Hathiot, 1956; Fishman, 1972), but this function mostly remains at the level of a referential and symbolic ethnic identity rather than at the level of the linguistic performance. This referential function may not guarantee the maintenance and transmission of Spanish among Hispanics. We conclude, then, that ethnicity plays a role in maintaining Spanish but as the language of ethnic reference. Regarding the role of women, we find that in these Hispanic churches, women’s domestic tasks, which are associated with the performance of the transitional speech events, reproduce a gender division of roles that complies with social expectations of femininity. This is, the role of women as guardian of their families as well as guardians of the domestic functions of the church. However, we cannot affirm that women in these churches are indeed guardians of Spanish as the minority language. As analyzed above, while women may be more likely to take the floor in an unplanned and spontaneous fashion than men in order to express themselves in public, women used their dominant language: either English or Spanish. Thus, we could say that women may be those who promote bilingual practices in a more unplanned, unadvertised, but effective way. They are speaking in the language that fulfills their needs whenever they so feel. In sum, women may contribute to the maintenance of Spanish in church, but mostly in its role of a symbolic language that represents and evokes ethnic reference. Their verbal behavior may not guarantee the transmission of Spanish to their offspring or the youth.

Notes 1. The US Census Bureau reports the populations by race in Lancaster city as: 34,683 White, 7939 Black or African American, 247 American Indian and Alaska Native, 1386 Asian, 47 Native Hawaiian and Other Pacific Islander, 9826. This information is problematic because the 2000 Census did not include Hispanic as a race. 2. Pentecostal is an umbrella term used to describe a style of worship, but includes a variety of church denominations such as ‘Assembly of God,’ ‘Fountain of Salvation,’ ‘Church of God,’ and others. 3. IRB approved by Franklin and Marshall College in November 2006.


4. The religious and worship styles among the different churches is a highly complex and extensive topic. We suggest the analysis of María E. Pérez y González (2000) for further research. 5. Because it was difficult to understand the recording, we reconstructed the meaning. 6. We follow Gumperz’s (1982, p. 59) definition of code-switching as ‘the juxtaposition within the same speech exchange of passages belonging to two different grammatical systems or subsystems.’ Code-switches can occur within sentence boundaries (intra-sententially) or at the boundaries of complete sentences (inter-sententially). 7. In Protestant churches there is an ongoing debate regarding whether or not women are permitted to teach men. This issue within the Hispanic churches would be an interesting topic for further study.

Works cited Bidegain, A. M. (2006). Personal communication. University of Miami, Florida. Burton, P. (1994). Women and second language use: An introduction. In P. Burton, K. K. Dyson, and S. Ardener (eds), Bilingual Women: Anthropological Approaches to Second-Language Use. Berg: Oxford Providence, pp. 1–29. Fasold, R. (1984). The Sociolinguistics of Society. New York: Blackwell. Fishman, J. (1972). Language and Nationalism: Two Integrative Essays. Rowley, MA: Newbury House. Gal, S. (1978/1984). Peasant men can’t get wives: Language change and sex roles in a bilingual community. Language in Society 7(1), 1–16. Reprinted in J. Baugh and J. Sherzer (eds), 1984, Language in Use: Readings in Sociolinguistics, Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Gal, S. (1979). Language Shift: Social Determinants of Linguistic Change in Bilingual Austria. New York: Academic Press. Garvin, P. and Hathiot, M. (1956). The urbanization of the Guaraní language. In A. F. C. Wallace (ed.), Men and Cultures: Selected Papers from the Fifth International Congress of Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, pp. 365–74. George, C. (2004). The History of the Reina-Valera 1960 Spanish Bible. American Bible Society. Gonzalez, J. (2000). A History of Latinos in America: Harvest of Empire. New Cork: Penguin. Books. Gumperz, J. (1977). The sociolinguistic significance of conversational codeswitching. RELC Journal 8(2), 1–34. Gumperz, J. (1982). Discourse Strategies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hill, J. and Hill, K. (1980). Metaphorical switching in modern nahuatl: Change and contradiction. Papers from the Sixteenth Regional Meeting of the Chicago Linguistic Society. Chicago: Chicago Linguistic Society, pp. 121–33. Hudson, A., Hernández-Chávez, H., Bills, G. (1995). The many faces of language maintenance: Spanish language claming in five southwestern states. In C. Silva Corvalán (ed.), Spanish in Four Continents: Studies in Language Contact and Bilingualism. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, pp. 165–83.


Hymes, D. H. (1964). Towards ethnographies of communication: The analysis of communicative events. American Anthropologist 66(6:2), 1–34. Labov, W. (1966). The Social Stratification of English in New York City. Washington, DC: Center for Applied Linguistics. Laosa, L. (1975). Bilingualism in three United States Hispanic groups: Contextual use of language by children and adults in their families. Journal of Educational Psychology 67(5), 617–27. Pérez y González, M. E. (2000). Puerto Ricans in the United States. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Quintanilla, J. (2006). Esquizoglosia en el Salvador. Unpublished manuscript. University of Florida. Schuyler, D. (2002). A City Transformed: Redevelopment, Race, and Suburbanization in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 1940–1980. Philadelphia: Pennsylvania University Press. Silva Corvalán, C. (2001). Sociolinguística y pragmática del español. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press. Stavan, I. (2003). Spanglish: The Making of a New American Language. New York: Harper Collins Publishers. US Census Bureau, Administrative and Customer Services Division, Statistical Compendia Branch. County and City Data Book: 2000, Official Population and Housing Data from the 2000 Census. Http://www.census.gov/statab/www/ ccdb.html revised: 28 July 2005. Accessed: 19 August 2005. Zentella, A. C. (1997/2004). Growing up Bilingual: Puerto Rican Children in New York. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishers.

3 Gender Constructions and Biblical Exegesis: Lessons from a Divinity School Seminar Tamara Warhol

Introduction The 2000 US Census reports that approximately 83 percent of people who acknowledged their religious affiliation identified themselves as Christian.1 While Christians in the United States represent a heterogeneous group of people, they share the belief that the Bible is the normative text for defining the religion’s ethics (Balmer, 2000; Hays, 1996; Porter and Clarke, 1997). Passages within the Bible itself promote its authority and usefulness. The author of 2 Timothy writes, ‘All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work’ (3:16–17).2 Indeed, many passages in the Bible describe principles, practices, and roles for Christian believers. Yet, despite explicit moral directives in biblical texts, Christians do not promulgate a uniform code of behavior. For when Christians look to the Bible for guidance, they are confronted with a collection of texts that were written by many different authors in different historical and socio-cultural contexts (Berlinerblau, 2005). Thus, although the Bible offers explicit directives, many of these statements, written by different authors with different agendas, directly contradict one another. Additionally, less explicit directives may be vague, confusing, or context dependent. Lacking one clear and coherent moral code, Christians are faced with an interpretive challenge. They must explicate vague and confusing 50

Gender Constructions and Biblical Exegesis 51

passages and attempt to resolve contradictions within and among texts in order to make ethical judgments. This challenge is further complicated by the variety of interpretive methods available to Christians. As Hays notes in his introduction to New Testament ethics, ‘[D]iverse interpretive methods can yield diverse readings of any given text’ (1996, p. 1). Adopting a moral stance based on biblical authority is therefore a socially constructed activity contingent upon the texts chosen for interpretation, the interpretative methods used, and the context for the interpretation. Discourse analytic concepts from linguistic anthropology offer a heuristic for understanding how biblical interpretation is shaped, constituted, and negotiated within communities. When writing about exegesis, that is, biblical interpretation, religious scholars have focused predominantly upon methods of understanding the text. Student handbooks offer step-by-step guidance (for example, Fee, 2002; Hagner, 1999), while edited collections provide more general descriptions of approaches to biblical interpretation (for example, McKenzie and Haynes, 1999; Moore and Anderson, 1992; Porter, 1997). This focus on methodology has not precluded discussions about the influence of interpreter subjectivity and modern ideologies on interpretation. Levine notes, ‘Subjectivity will never be eliminated from historical investigation: the questions posed, passages highlighted, intertexts imported, applications made, and audiences addressed are all products of the researcher’s considerations’ (2004, p. 1). Similarly, Silva discusses the question of ‘whether we can find interpreters who have managed to preserve the integrity of the text’s historical meaning while at the same time deliberately allowing the contemporary context to influence their exegetical method’ (2001, p. 198). For example, some feminist biblical critics, in particular, have advocated rigorous investigation of the biblical text set against an understanding of modern ideologies of gender (Levine, 2004; Ruether, 1983; Schüssler Fiorenza, 2002; Vander Stichele and Penner, 2005). Yet, even discussions that move beyond strict methodological considerations to modern contextualizations usually imagine biblical exegesis as a solitary activity.3 In some forms, biblical interpretation may be a personal devotional act, but in other forms, biblical interpretation emerges from interaction: among friends and family, pastors and parishioners, and teachers and students as well as among colleagues. Once a person articulates his or her interpretations, he or


she becomes part of the activity of negotiating the community’s moral understandings. This paper examines how these language negotiations regarding the meaning of biblical passages may shape a community’s mores. Specifically, it investigates how participants in a divinity school seminar construct biblically-based understandings of identity and thus gender within early Christianity.

Biblical interpretation Exegeses of biblical passages regarding gender highlight how language negotiations may shape community mores. Christians throughout the history of the religion have used biblical interpretation to justify stances regarding principles and practices relating to gender. Historically, these interpretations primarily have been used to support oppressive and patriarchal Christian doctrines (Geisterfer, 2005; Pagels, 1989; Schüssler Fiorenza, 2002). Yet, neither all the texts of the Bible nor all biblical interpretations present the same account of gender relationships. While some biblical narratives offer hierarchical portraits of men and women, others appear to promote gender equity. For example, among and within the apostle Paul’s letters to early Christian communities, Paul appears to offer conflicting statements regarding the status of women within the religion. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul writes, ‘There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus’ (3:28). This statement appears to endorse gender equity. In contrast, in 1 Corinthians, Paul presents a gender hierarchy: ‘But I want you to understand that Christ is the head of every man, and the husband is the head of his wife, and God is the head of Christ’ (11:3). Two other verses from 1 Corinthians further complicate the possibility of understanding Paul’s position about the status of women. In 1 Corinthians 11, he acknowledges that a woman can occupy a position of prestige – that of prophet. He writes, ‘[B]ut any woman who prays or prophesies …’ (1 Cor. 11:5a). Then, despite having acknowledged that women participate in prophecy, Paul writes that ‘[W]omen should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as the law says’ (1 Cor. 14:34). Prophetic activity would be impossible for women if they adhered to this injunction against talk. Between and within only two letters written by the same author within a short span of time, contradictions arise about the status and role of women. The Bible, as a whole, presents many more contradictions.


How Christian communities reconcile these many contradictions will influence how they substantiate statements about gender relationships. In fact, the letters of Paul alone have prompted a number of biblical scholars to write about the role of gender in early Christianity (Boyarin, 1993; Fee, 1997; Hays, 1996, 1997; Levine, 2004; Martin, 1997; Meeks, 1974, 1983; Schüssler Fiorenza, 2002; Vander Stichele and Penner, 2005; Wire, 1990). Hawkins (2004), however, notes that scholars need not confine themselves to passages about relations between women and men in order to gain insight about how Paul conceptualized gender. She suggests that an examination of passages relating to other ‘markers of human particularity’ such as race, class, ethnicity, sexuality, and religious affiliation may provide an understanding of Paul’s anthropology. She writes, ‘Within the logic of identity and the ideology of patriarchy, which together form the conceptual nucleus of Western thought and culture, such markers of particularity are always markers of difference from the perceived, idealized, and privileged “norm”: the white, heterosexual, male’ (Hawkins, 2004, p. 171, italics in original). Thus, a biblical scholar author would enter in a dialogue with the Pauline texts, subsequent Pauline interpreters, and their local communities about any one of these markers of human particularity. How the scholar positions the voice of Paul and others vis-à-vis his or her own will create different understandings of a particular identity compared to the privileged norm, that is, the white, heterosexual, male. Similarly, investigations of how communities use the Bible to understand gender need not focus on discussions of biblical passages about the relations between women and men. How communities negotiate biblically-based understandings of other markers of particularity also demonstrates how they shape and constitute their mores. The concept of voice, first developed by Russian literary scholar, Mikhail Bakhtin (1981, 1984) and expanded upon by linguistic anthropologists (Agha, 2005; Hill, 1997; Parmentier, 1993; Wortham, 2001; Wortham and Locher, 1996; see also Keane, 2004, regarding language and religion more generally), provides an analytical tool for exploring negotiations about the meaning of biblical passages. For Bakhtin, the term, ‘voice’, is not a decontextualized form of speech. Rather, speaking in a certain voice indexes a particular social type. Wortham (2001) offers an example. In the United States, the word ‘dude’ is often part of the register spoken among teenagers. Thus, Wortham concludes, ‘Dude, for instance, would not normally be a


word used by elderly Episcopalians’ (2001, p. 38, italics in original). Different linguistic cues would signal the social type of elderly Episcopalians. Such linguistic cues may include, but are not limited to, direct reference, indirect quotation, free direct speech, and metrical contrasts (Agha, 2005; Wortham, 2001). Voicing also carries with it an evaluative aspect. As an author or speaker voices a particular social type, he or she positions him or herself in reference to that voice. Such positioning indicates the speaker’s assessment of that voice (Bakhtin, 1981). As with identifying voices, different indexical cues, such adjectives and metapragmatic descriptors, will point to the speaker’s position vis-à-vis different voices (Wortham, 2001). Additionally, Bakhtin (1981, 1984) suggests that all voices are dialogical in nature; they cannot be read or heard in isolation. Instead, they respond to utterances that precede them and anticipate utterances that will respond to them. Meaning is found not in one text alone, but amidst a dialogue of interacting voices. While an openended dialogue may begin with one text or image, as contexts change and different texts and points of view converge, new meanings emerge as interactants ask new questions and confront foreign ideas. The original text is reaccentuated with new voices. Furthermore, this interaction is unfinalizable. The dialogic nature of language presumes that old voices are continually recalled and new ones added to the dialogue. Only when an observer freezes a moment in time can the whole meaning of the dialogue be considered. As Christian communities come together to create biblically-based moral stances, they will respond to voices found in the biblical narrative and subsequent exegeses and add new ones to reaccentuate the meaning of the passage. Although biblical scholars have developed an array of different methods to interpret biblical passages, the historical critical method dominates biblical scholarship and focuses upon interpreting the text as it was intended by the original author (Bartlett, 1981; Cosgrove, 1999; Porter, 1997; Porter and Clarke, 1997). Yet, an exegesis of a biblical passage can at best only approximate the original meaning of the text, for any biblical interpretation will reflect at least two voices: that of the original author and that of the modern interpreter. Furthermore, given the long history of biblical interpretation, an exegesis will probably reflect more (see Childs, 1970; Claassens, 2003). Following Hawkins’s (2004) proposal, this chapter examines how members of a divinity school seminar negotiate


an understanding of Paul’s religious identity through an exegesis of Galatians 1:11–24 by positioning the different voices that arise during their discussion. The seminar’s language negotiations on this topic offer a sketch of how this community might construct an understanding of gender relations in Christianity.

A divinity school seminar Data for this chapter come from a study on classroom discourse in a seminar at a non-denominational divinity school in the United States. Divinity schools and seminaries are unique Christian communities in that community members are actively engaged in the study of the religion. Within divinity school classrooms, the interactions of course participants offer overt examples of negotiations about the meaning of religious texts, including the Bible. To investigate interactions regarding biblical texts in particular, I observed and audio-taped a New Testament interpretation seminar during the spring 2004 semester. The syllabus described the course as a ‘participatory, interactive seminar [that] explores the lively patterns of early Christian identity formation within the first two centuries CE’ (Class syllabus, Spring 2004). Additionally, the syllabus indicated that the primary source texts for the course would be the Pauline epistles, as the Pauline churches represent some of the earliest Christian communities. The course was neither an introductory exegesis nor an advanced Greek exegesis course. Rather, student participants were expected to be familiar with methods of biblical interpretation; however, they were only required to read the English translation of the biblical texts. Members of the seminar included the professor, four doctoral students, and six Masters’ students. The professor specializes in New Testament studies with an emphasis on the Pauline corpus. The majority of the students could and did read the Greek version of the Bible in addition to a text in English or their mother-tongue, but at least two of the Masters’ students relied on an English text alone.4 In the excerpts in this paper, the following seminar members participate: Deborah (D): the professor. Bartholomew (B): a doctoral student and the most advanced graduate student in the class. Martha (M): another doctoral student.5


During the portion of the class discussion analyzed below, the participants were exploring how Paul constructed his own identity in relation to Judaism. The apostle Paul appears in the New Testament in the Acts of the Apostles and as the attributed author of 13 letters of the New Testament corpus. Furthermore, most critical scholars consider seven of the letters authentically written by Paul (Meeks, 1993). Acts and Paul’s letter to the Galatians offer some limited biographical information about Paul. He originally was a Pharisee intent on persecuting those who believed that Jesus was the Messiah (Acts 8:1–3; 9:1–2; Gal. 1:13–14); however, on the road to Damascus, Paul encountered the risen Jesus and became not only an advocate for the new religion but its chief promoter among the Gentiles (Acts 9:3–22; Gal. 1:15–16). Throughout his missionary activity and captivity in Rome, Paul wrote to the churches he established to advise and admonish them. Written in approximately the sixth decade CE, these letters represent the earliest documents about some of the first Christian communities (Meeks, 1993). For the first hour of class, the participants had discussed both ancient and contemporary secondary sources about the question of Paul’s Jewish identity. The class then turned to the biblical texts Galatians 1:11–12:14 and Romans 8:1–30; 9:1–11:36 to examine how Paul portrayed himself; this chapter specifically attends to the discussion about Galatians 1:11–24. During this discussion, the professor and students interweave their own voices with those of the narrative and of modern commentators in order to create an interpretation of the passage. Voices included the historical voices of Paul, his opponents, and his Galatian addressees, second-century CE apologists such as Irenaeus and Tertullian (Silva, 2001), and Reformation leaders such as Martin Luther (1538/1999) to the voices of contemporary biblical scholars of Galatians (for example, Betz 1975, 1979; Boyarin, 1994; Fredriksen, 2002; Koptak 1990; Martyn, 1997; Nanos, 2002) and the interactants involved in the particular interpretative event. Galatians 1:11–24 Galatians 1:11–24 is the beginning portion of an autobiographical narrative that Paul uses in a letter ‘to the churches of Galatia’ in response to a ‘different gospel’ than the one he had initially preached to them (Gal. 1:1–6). Prior to Paul’s evangelical activities among them, the Galatians were probably polytheists (Fredriksen, 2002; Martyn,


1997; Nanos, 2002). Paul then preached his gospel and formed the churches in Galatia, but he did not designate adherence to Jewish law as requisite for church membership. However, following Paul’s departure from Galatia, another group came and preached a ‘different gospel.’ Adherence to Jewish law figured prominently in this different gospel and some Galatians did begin to follow Jewish law, including the practice of circumcision (Gal. 6:1). When Paul hears about the activities of this rival group and the Galatians’ acceptance of their ideas, he writes to the Galatians in response. Paul draws on his own story to persuade the Galatians of the legitimacy of his gospel. During the class analyzed here, Deborah, the professor, reads a portion of Paul’s text aloud, translating from the Greek into English: Excerpt 1 [11] for I have not. for I would have you know brothers that the gospel that is proclaimed by me is not (long pause) is not humanly (pause) a humanly gospel according to man. [12] I didn’t receive it from men nor was I taught it but it came from through revelation of Jesus Christ. [13] for you have heard of my former life in Judaism? (long pause) hm (pause) how I persecuted that church of God violently and tried to destroy it [14] and I advanced in Judaism beyond many my own age among my people so extremely zealous was I in the traditions of my fathers. [15] but when he who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace was pleased [16] to reveal his son to me (pause) in order that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles I didn’t confer with FLESH BLOOD (long pause) [17] nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me (pause) but I went away to Arabia and again I returned to Damascus (pause) [18] then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas [remaining] with him fifteen days. [19] but I saw none of the others (pause) none of the other apostles except James and his brother [sic] [20] in what I am writing to you before God I DO NOT LIE [21] but I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia [22] and I was still not known by sight to the churches of Christ in Judea [23] and all I heard he is doing apologia here can you tell? he who once persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy. [24] and they glorified God because of me.6 (Gal. 1:11–24)


Within the narrative text itself, different linguistic markers index several different voices: Paul as a Pharisee and persecutor of the ‘church of God’; Paul’s current life as an apostle; members of the Galatian church; unnamed interlocutor(s) reporting upon Paul’s life; and Jesus. To index his past social position as a Pharisee and his present social position as an apostle of Christ, Paul uses temporal deixis (Wortham, 2001). In Galatians 1:13a, Paul writes that the Galatians have heard of ‘[his] manner of life at one time in Judaism.’ The Greek particle, pote – at one time – refers to Paul’s past situation during which he lived as a Pharisee. As a Pharisee he ‘violently persecut[ed] the church of God and tr[ied] to destroy it’ (v. 13b). Paul next uses the phrase, hote de – but when – to contrast this social position with his current position as someone called by God (v. 15). The post-positive particle, de, may be translated as either ‘but’ or ‘and’; however, because the description of his life that precedes and follows the phrase, hote de, demonstrates a sharp contrast between Paul’s life pre- and post-revelation, the translation of de as ‘but’ is more representative of this contrast (Martyn, 1997). Post-revelation, Paul not only ceases to persecute the church, but also proclaims the new faith (v. 23). Although neither pote nor hote de alone creates two separate social identities, these temporal deictics coupled with the contrasting descriptions of Paul’s pre- and post-apocalyptic life index two social voices of Paul – that of Pharisee and that of apostle. Paul uses indirect quotation to indicate the voices of reporters of his activities. In Galatians 1:13a, Paul writes, ‘for you have heard of my manner of life at one time in Judaism.’ The phrase, ‘for you have heard,’ indexes a voice that had previously told the Galatians about Paul’s former life. The Galatians had ‘heard’ the story from someone, perhaps Paul himself when he first came to Galatia to establish the church. At the end of the passage, Paul once again uses indirect quotation to indicate the voice of another biographer. He writes, ‘And they only had heard that the one who once persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy’ (Gal. 1:23). Once again, Paul obliquely refers to a person or people that the churches of Judea had heard talk about his current activities as an apostle. In this instance, Paul is not the unnamed interlocutor as he is describing the reaction of the churches of Judea to the reporter’s claim about Paul’s conversion. Those speaking with this voice praise Paul’s activities, unlike the other unnamed interlocutor who related Paul’s previous activities as a Pharisee.


In addition to his own past and present voices, Paul does highlight other voices in his narrative. Using direct references, Paul represents the voices of his Galatian addressees and Jesus. In the first line of the passage, Paul uses the personal deictic, ‘you’, to address his Galatians addressees. In Verse 13, Paul will once again use a personal deictic to refer to his addressees. He writes, ‘For you have heard.’ Paul then calls his Galatians addresses adelphoi – brothers (and sisters). He writes, ‘For I want you to know, brothers and sisters’ (v. 11a). The personal deictics and the form of address index the Galatians as Paul’s intimates. He wants to enter into a dialogue with them about his gospel, a dialogue that will draw on Paul’s own narrative and their previous familial-like relationship with him. Paul also uses direct reference to represent the voice of Jesus Christ. He writes, ‘For I neither received [my gospel] from man nor was it taught to me, but [I received it] through a revelation of Jesus Christ’ (v. 12). With this claim, Paul asserts that he does not speak in his own voice when he preaches his gospel; rather he speaks in the voice of Jesus Christ. This claim is an overt example of double-voicing (Bakhtin, 1984). Paul uses other discourse to ‘exert influence from without’ (Bakhtin, 1984). By invoking the name of Jesus Christ as the voice of his gospel, Paul attaches absolute authority to his gospel, the authority of the central figure of the new religion. If the purpose of exegesis is to articulate the literal meaning of a passage and illuminate the religious dimensions of the text (Porter and Clarke, 1997), identifying the voices in the passage is a key step in the process. These voices represent the actors in the biblical interaction and structure the denotational text. The denotational text of Galatians 1:11–24 describes the difference in Paul’s life before and after his conversion experience. Paul writes to the Galatians to explain that he received his gospel from a revelation of Jesus Christ (v. 12). He then describes how prior to this revelation he zealously persecuted the church (vv. 13–14). However, after his apocalyptic experience (vv. 15–16), Paul went to Arabia and then returned to Damascus (v. 17). He did not stop to talk to any human being before his travels. Three years after his revelation, Paul went to Jerusalem and visited Cephas (Peter) and James, apostles in the church there (vv. 18–19). After his visit, Paul went to Syria and Cilicia. The people there had heard of Paul’s conversion and ‘glorified God because of him’ (vv. 22–4). How the voices within the denotational text are then contextualized and entextualized represent subsequent steps in the


interpretative process (Silverstein and Urban, 1996). These steps allow interpreters to construct an understanding of Paul’s past and present identification with Judaism.

Language negotiations The voices of Paul, the Galatians, other evangelists, the Jerusalem church, modern commentators as well as seminar participants intermingle from the beginning of their interaction about Paul’s autobiographical narrative. Deborah translates the text aloud from Greek to English (see above), she then asks the students, ‘What do you see going on?’ (Excerpt 2, line 1). Excerpt 2 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

D: we’ll stop there and then we’ll go on. What do you see going on? M: he’s really pissed off because D: (laughter) he’s really pissed off M: because the others went to Galatia and were trying to convince the Galatians that they should circumcise ( ) Paul ( ) and show that his customs are legitimate and that the the Jerusalem Church agreed. this is a nice (pause) uh a very good epistle why do you not like it? Class: (laughter) D: we’ll talk about my personal feelings in a minute. let’s would anyone like to build on this point or add another one (pause) or respond to it. (long pause) T your mouth is open. (laughter) it looked like you were about to speak. T: You’ve known me long enough to know that my mouth is usually open. (laughter) D: so she Martha says Martha says he is pissed off and he’s responding to


16 17 18

another way of approaching (pause) life in Christ (pause) judaizing (pause) he doesn’t LIKE (pause) it he’s reacting to it. others of you what do you see?

In their interaction, Deborah and Martha primarily focus on the voice of an angry, reactive Paul, but Martha also indicates the voices to the Galatians, other evangelists, and the Jerusalem church. In her response to Deborah’s question, ‘What do you see going on here?’ Martha first says, ‘he’s really pissed off’ (line 2), but in her subsequent utterances she uses deictics and direct reference to speak in others’ voices. She says, ‘others went to Galatia and were trying to convince the Galatians that they should be circumcised’ (lines 4–5). The deictic, ‘others’ indexes people who taught something different than Paul’s gospel. She then uses direct reference to voice the Galatians and the Jerusalem church. Here, reference to the Galatians’ voice indexes a social person who believes in Christ but is uncircumcised. The ‘others’ wanted to convince the Galatians to be circumcised. Martha also indicates the voice of the Jerusalem church. She says, ‘and the Jerusalem church agreed’ (line 6). This voice carries the weight of being not only the original church but also the one that is currently led by a member of Jesus’ family, his brother James (Gal. 1:19). Although other voices arise in Martha’s discourse, she and Deborah do privilege the voice of Paul. Martha begins her response with the statement, ‘he’s really pissed off’ (line 2). Answering a question about Paul’s autobiographical text, the personal deictic, ‘he’ presumably refers to Paul and the phrase ‘pissed off’ indexes an angry Paul. Although Martha uses a colloquial phrase that usually would not be used in academic or religious settings, Deborah speaks in the voice of the student, Martha, in the following line. Deborah’s laughter reaccentuates (Bakhtin, 1981, 1984) this voice as not entirely appropriate. However, her first repetition of phrase prompts Martha to continue (line 3) and her second repetition sets up an invitation for other students to participate in the interaction (line 15). Paul’s voice is angry because he is reacting to what he perceives as Galatian disloyalty. Martha says, ‘because the others went to Galatia and were trying to convince the Galatians that they should circumcise ( ) Paul ( ) and show that his


customs are legitimate’ (lines 4–6). Martha used an indirect-direct clause construction to show how Paul responds to the situation in Galatia. ‘The others’ were urging circumcision, so Paul wants to ‘show that his customs are legitimate.’ All the other voices that Martha references are used to frame Paul’s ‘pissed off’ reactive voice. As the seminar’s multivocal exegesis emerges, Martha does not just give voice to Paul and the other social positions in the text – Deborah also speaks in different social voices. Summarizing Martha’s response, Deborah says, ‘so she Martha says Martha says he is pissed off and he’s responding to another way of approaching (pause) life in Christ (pause) judaizing (pause) he doesn’t LIKE (pause) it he’s reacting to it’ (lines 15–17). Deborah first speaks in the voice of a student; she uses a personal deictic and a proper name to speak in Martha’s voice: ‘so she Martha.’ Deborah also directly quotes Martha. Deborah says, ‘Martha says he is pissed off.’ Deborah then recontextualizes Martha’s voice by reaccentuating it with the voice of a modern Biblical commentator. Deborah says, ‘he’s responding to another way of approaching (pause) life in Christ (pause) judaizing’ (line 16). Deborah attributes this voice to Martha by linking it to the phrase ‘pissed off’ with the conjunction, ‘and’; however, the language that Deborah uses is characteristic of modern Galatian commentators interested in Paul’s stance on Judaism (for example, Fredriksen, 2002; Martyn, 1997; Nanos, 2002). The entire phrase ‘another way to approaching (pause) life in Christ (pause) judaizing’ uses constructions and lexis indicative of the field of religious studies. The phrase, ‘life in Christ’ and the term, ‘judaizing,’ offer unique vocabulary for describing the causes for Paul’s anger. Paul’s religious identity has thus far been constructed not only in his individual voice and the social voices of his contemporaries, but also in the voices of local interactants and modern biblical scholars. As the seminar’s exegesis unfolds, these voices continue to echo through the interaction. Additionally, voices emerge from the Hebrew Bible. In Excerpt 3, Martha makes intertextual connections between Galatians and texts from Isaiah and Jeremiah. Excerpt 3 1 2

M: uh (pause) umm to decide to review his (Judaism) and okay he is not (pause) it’s been said he’s following Isaiah and Jeremiah Jeremiah 1:5.


3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

he’s been inspired by those texts (pause) right? D: right M: but even if we compare those texts to what Paul says (pause) uh (pause) to set someone apart is only to appoint to that person for D: ⫽that’s correct (pause) that’s correct M: who would it I believe that also that the Lord that God decided to separate () D: um (pause) one is one that is set apart out of the belly of my mother and called (pause) set apart out of the belly of my mother (and/and) called out of his charitas (pause) grace or favor. well let’s put that on the table. does this look like (pause) does this read to you as set apart from Judaism or something else?

As in Excerpt 2, the voices of Paul in his letter to the Galatians and Galatian commentators arise. Unlike Excerpt 2, the interlocutors in Excerpt 3 privilege the voices of prophets from the Hebrew Bible. Martha begins her discussion of Paul’s relationship to Judaism in Excerpt 3 by suggesting that Paul speaks in the voice of either the prophet Isaiah or the prophet Jeremiah. She even offers a direct reference to a Biblical text – Jeremiah 1:5.7 She says, ‘it’s been said he’s following Isaiah and Jeremiah Jeremiah 1:5. he’s been inspired by those texts (pause) right’ (lines 2–3). This utterance presents four levels of voices. The first, Martha, a speaker in the seminar interaction, uses other voices to develop her own exegesis. The second level occurs with the passive construction, ‘it’s been said.’ This construction implies unknown voices of biblical scholars who agree that Paul has been ‘inspired’ (line 3) by texts of Isaiah and Jeremiah in the Hebrew Bible. In turn, these unknown Biblical scholars provide a third level of voicing; they suggest that Paul, indicated by the deictic, ‘he,’ speaks in others’ voices. The final level of voicing in this utterance is of the named prophets of the Hebrew biblical. Paul draws his inspiration from these prophets. These levels of voicing are found within an


embedded quotation structure in the utterance: Level

Structure

Text

1 2 3 4

Martha says that the Biblical scholars said Paul uses Isaiah and Jeremiah

[Martha speaking] it’s been said he’s following Isaiah and Jeremiah

Although Paul may have been inspired by Jewish texts, Paul does not necessarily speak in the voices of Hebrew prophets to imply that he sees himself as living within Jewish traditions. As Martha continues her analysis, she will assert that Paul’s voice is not representative of Judaism, but separate (line 8). In lines 5, 6 and 8 of Excerpt 3, Martha contrasts the voices of the prophets and Paul’s voice in Galatians. Martha marks this contrast in voices, with the conjunction, ‘but’ (line 5). One the one hand, she says in reference to the prophets: ‘to set someone apart is only to appoint that person’ (lines 5–6). On the other hand, she then says, ‘I believe that also that the Lord God decided to separate’ (lines 8–9). In this interpretation, Martha indexes two social types, the Hebrew prophets who had been appointed and Paul who had been separated from Judaism. Martha then positions these voices to locate Paul outside of Judaism following his revelation. Yet, although Martha perceives these voices as contrastive, Deborah does not agree with Martha’s interpretation. She reaccentuates Martha’s original formulation of the embedded voices, adding the specific text from Jeremiah. She then asks the other students to reconsider how the texts compare. She first paraphrases the Jeremiah text: ‘one is one that is set apart out of the belly of my mother and called’ (lines 10–11 citing Jer. 1:5) and then cites Paul’s text to the Galatians: ‘called out of his “charitas” (pause) grace or favor’ (line 12 citing Gal. 1:15). These direct quotations from Jeremiah and Galatians represent the individual voices of Jeremiah and Paul respectively. Deborah reconfigures Martha’s interpretation by changing her statement about separation into a question. Deborah says, ‘let’s put that on the table. does this look like (pause) does this read to you as set apart from Judaism or something else?’ (lines 13–14) Deborah’s query uses the voices in Martha’s embedded formulation of the text, but questions how Martha positions those texts as a means of formulating Paul’s Jewish identity.


As the class’s interpretation of Galatians 1:11–24 concludes, Deborah once again re-voices Martha’s formulation, but also presents more of Paul’s discourse. Specifically, Deborah adds Paul’s statement, ‘For you have heard of my former life in Judaism’ (Excerpt 4, lines l–2 citing Gal. 1:13). Deborah’s direct question about the biblical verses privileges them as important for an understanding about Paul’s religious identity. Bartholomew answers Deborah’s question by focusing upon Galatians 1:13 amidst the other voices that have arisen in the interaction. This focus creates a heteroglossic portrait of Paul’s Jewish identity. Excerpt 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

D: what (pause) in other words (pause) part of what I am asking is how we interpret phrases like my former activities in Judaism um and I abandoned Judaism and then I was set apart. is that a move from out to in? or from group A to group B? Or is a shift of behavior within (pause) a shift of allegiance within Judaism or behavior in role within Judaism? or some third thing? that I am not thinking of. B: I think that (pause) when I read this you come across Verse 13 you heard of my former way of living in my former way of living in the Judean manner. and then you get down to 15 and you get this I mean if you know if he’s working with people who know anything about scriptural stuff this is going to bring up Jeremiah and Isaiah. So (pause) for me that that points toward a reading of Verse 13 that says rather rather than saying you’ve heard of my former life my former way of living IN JUDAISM to say instead you’ve heard of my FORMER way of living in Judaism.


15 16 17 18

D: exactly. B: and here is how I am doing it now. D: exactly. exactly. (very long pause) it uh just the emphasis of that one word changes the orientation.

Lines 7 through 14 in Excerpt 4 bring together all the voices of the seminar’s exegetical interaction. Although Bartholomew will privilege Paul’s voice, he arrives at his interpretation of this voice by situating it within the voices of others. The passage begins and ends with Bartholomew’s translation of Galatians 1:13: Êkousate hear2nd pl. aor.

gar tên for acc. art.

emên 1st s. acc. pronoun

pote at one timeadv.

en tôi in dat. art.

Ioudaïsmôi Judaisms.dat.

anastrophên manner of lifes. acc.

Bartholomew incorporates the voices of the professor, a biblical scholar; a student; Paul; ‘people who know anything about scriptural stuff’ (lines 10–11); Isaiah and Jeremiah; and the Galatians in his exegesis of this statement. As the speaker, Bartholomew’s voice animates the text (Goffman, 1981). He then focuses on Paul’s claim regarding ‘his former life in Judaism,’ the text that Deborah highlighted (lines 7–8). Both Deborah and Bartholomew re-voice Paul in their translations of his text. However, Bartholomew does not suggest that Paul is a monologic author. Instead, Bartholomew draws on Martha’s voicing of Isaiah and Jeremiah as influential to Paul’s writing. He says, ‘this is going to bring up Jeremiah and Isaiah’ (line 11). Yet, Bartholomew also reaccentuates Martha’s voicing by adding the social voices of ‘people who know anything about scriptural stuff’ as interlocutors of Paul. Who these interlocutors represent in Paul’s letter and for Bartholomew is unclear.8 Regardless of their exact identity, the voices of these interlocutors position Paul as in dialogue with Judaism. Furthermore, Bartholomew sees Paul in a dialogue situated within Judaism, not against it. Bartholomew presents alternate prosodic readings of Galatians 1:13. He says, ‘that points toward a reading of Verse 13


that says rather rather than saying you’ve heard of my former life my former way of living IN JUDAISM to say instead you’ve heard of my FORMER way of living in Judaism’ (lines 13–14). Using the contrastive conjunctions, ‘rather than’ and ‘instead,’ Bartholomew double-voices Paul as someone who has changed his practices, not his religious allegiance. Bartholomew arrives at this exegesis because he positions Paul’s voice as reaccentuating the voices of the Hebrew prophets rather than contradicting them. Deborah strongly agrees with Bartholomew’s exegesis and explicitly notes how Paul’s voice may be reaccentuated with different emphases. She says, ‘exactly. exactly. (very long pause) it uh just the emphasis of that one word changes the orientation’ (lines 17–18). These interactions interweave ancient, modern and local voices to construct an exegesis of Paul’s Galatians narrative as representative of Paul’s Jewish identity.

Gender constructions The many voices found in the seminar’s exegesis of Galatians 1:11–24 demonstrate difficulty in interpreting the text as it was intended by the original author (Cosgrove, 1999). In this one seminar, the exegesis includes voices not only from Paul’s narrative text itself, but also of modern theologians and local interactants. The four excerpts present the voices of Paul; Hebrew prophets (Jeremiah and Isaiah); Paul’s contemporary interlocutors (the Galatians); the other evangelists, the Jerusalem Church, and people who know scripture; modern biblical commentators in general and those who highlight the influence of the Hebrew Bible on Paul; and, the seminar participants (Deborah, Martha, and Bartholomew). As the author of this chapter, my voice is also implied as I excerpt certain voices of the seminar participants to suggest their relevance to the exegesis of Galatians 1:11–24, and the reader of this text will then contribute his or her voice. An infinite number of voices echo through the interpretation of the text. Yet, although interpreters may identify these different voices, they cannot hear these voices in isolation. Voices only have meaning when they are positioned and assessed by local authors (Bakhtin, 1981, 1984). As local authors speak in and position the voices found in biblical texts, they make these texts relevant for their local religious community and open a space for further dialogue. In this manner, biblical texts can speak to local issues, such as modern constructions


of gender, rather than remaining in their historical context. For some, biblical texts have been positioned to promote gender equality. In some Christian communities, women are not only allowed to speak in church, but may be ordained and hold other positions of authority. Other Christian communities have positioned the biblical texts so that they warrant gender hierarchies that restrict the role of women in the church and community (Jones, 2000; Jule, 2005; Schüssler Fiorenza, 2002). Thus, although the intentions of the original author regarding gender relationships may not be revealed, a heteroglossic exegesis may illuminate religious dimensions in the text for its modern audience.

Notes 1. Public Law 94–521 prohibits the US Census Bureau from mandating an answer to the question of religious affiliation; therefore, this percentage only represents people who volunteered their religious affiliation. It may not be an accurate indication of the diversity of religious affiliation in the United States. 2. All biblical citations will be as in the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise indicated. 3. Advocates of canonical criticism (for example, Childs, 1985, 1986; Sanders, 1984) argue that interpreters should also examine biblical texts in light of how the early Christian community shaped the final form of Scripture. Although this approach does have some focus on the communal aspects of biblical interpretation, the approach focuses upon early Christian communities rather than modern ones. 4. Three of the doctoral students were non-native English speakers. 5. The names of seminar participants are pseudonyms. 6. Transcription conventions adapted from Wetherall, Taylor & Yates (2001, p. 62):

([long] pause)

A pause in the text.

[]

A description enclosed in a double bracket describes omitted text.

[#]

A number enclosed in brackets corresponds to verse numbers in the biblical text.

.

A full stop indicates a stopping fall in tone.

,

A comma indicates a continuing intonation.


?

Aquestion mark indicates a rising inflection

CAPITALS

With the exception of proper nouns, capital letters indicate a section of speech noticeably louder than that surrounding it.

bold

Translated text from Koine Greek or Hebrew to English.

italics

Koine Greek text

7. Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, [5] Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you, I appointed you a prophet to the nations (Jer. 1:4–5 NRSV). 8. Paul could be interacting with his Galatian addressees, but as former polytheists, their knowledge of prophets from the Hebrew Bible is suspect. Paul could also be in dialogue with the ‘others’ who have come to Galatia to try to judaize members of the Galatian church. Presumably, as these ‘others’ advocate Jewish customs, they would be familiar with Jewish biblical texts. The question of why Paul would address them in his letter to the Galatians then arises. In making this claim, Bartholomew could be referring to subsequent biblical interpreters of Paul’s letters. Yet, he situates his statement in the past. He says, ‘you know if he’s working with people who know anything about scriptural stuff’ (ll. 10–1). Therefore, Bartholomew seems to posit social types who represent contemporary interlocutors of Paul familiar with the Hebrew Bible.

Works cited Agha, A. (2005). Voice, footing, enregisterment. Journal of Linguistic Anthropology 15(1), 38–59. Bakhtin, M. (1981). Discourse in the novel. Trans. C. Emerson and M. Holquist. In M. Holquist (ed.), The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays by M. M. Bakhtin. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, pp. 259–422. Bakhtin, M. (1984). Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Trans. and ed. C. Emerson. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Balmer, R. (2000). ‘Mine eyes have seen the glory’: A Journey into the Evangelical Subculture in America, 3rd edn. New York: Oxford University Press. Bartlett, D. L. (1981). Biblical scholarship today: A diversity of new approaches. Christian Century, 98, 1090–4. Berlinerblau, J. (2005). The Secular Bible: Why Nonbelievers Must Take Religion Seriously. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Betz, H. D. (1975). The literary composition and function of Paul’s letter to the Galatians. New Testament Studies, 21, 352–79.


Betz, H. D. (1979). Galatians: A Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Churches in Galatia. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Boyarin, D. (1993). Paul and the genealogy of gender. Representations, 41, 1–33. Boyarin, D. (1994). A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics of Identity. Berkeley, CA: University of California. Childs, B. S. (1970). Biblical Theology in Crisis. Philadelphia: Westminster Press. Childs, B. S. (1985). The New Testament as Canon: An Introduction. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Childs, B. S. (1986). Old Testament Theology in a Canonical Context. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Claassens, L. J. M. (2003). Biblical theology as dialogue: Continuing the conversation on Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical theology. Journal of Biblical Literature, 122(1), 127–44. Cosgrove, C. H. (1999). A history of New Testament studies in the 20th century. Review and Expositer, 96, 369–83. Fee, G. D. (1987). The First Epistle to the Corinthians. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans. Fee, G. D. (2002). New Testament Exegesis: A Handbook for Students and Pastors, 3rd edn. Louisville, KY: John Knox Press. Fredriksen, P. (2002). Judaism, the circumcision of gentiles, and apocalyptic hope: Another look at Galatians 1 and 2. In M. D. Nanos (ed.), The Galatians Debate: Contemporary Issues in Rhetorical and Historical Criticism. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, pp. 233–60. Geisterfer, P. (2005). Full turns and half turns: Engaging the dialogue/dance between Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza and Vernon Robbins. In C. Vander Stichele and T. Penner (eds), Her Master’s Tools? Feminist and Postcolonial Engagements of Historical-Critical Discourse. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature, pp. 129–44. Goffman, E. (1981). Footing. In E. Goffman (ed.), Forms of talk. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, pp. 124–59. Hagner, D. A. (1999). New Testament Exegesis and Research: A Guide for Seminarians. Pasadena, CA: Fuller Seminary Press. Hawkins, F. K. (2004). Does Paul make a difference? In A. Levine (ed.), A Feminist Companion to Paul. Cleveland, OH: The Pilgrim Press, pp. 169–82. Hays, R. B. (1996). The Moral Vision of the New Testament: A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Hays, R. B. (1997). First Corinthians. Louisville, KY: John Knox Press. Hill, J. (1997). The voices of Don Gabriel: Responsibility and self in a modern Mexicano narrative. In D. Tedlock and B. Mannheim (eds), The Dialogic Emergence of Culture. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, pp. 97–147. Jones, S. (2000). Feminist Theory and Christian Theology: Cartographies of Grace. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press. Jule, A. (2005). Language use and silence as morality: Teaching and lecturing at an evangelical theological college. In A. Jule (ed.), Gender and the Language of Religion. Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan, pp. 151–67.


Keane, W. (2004). Language and religion. In A. Duranti (ed.), A Companion to Linguistic Anthropology. Malden, MA: Blackwell, pp. 431–48. Koptak, P. E. (1990). Rhetorical identification in Paul’s autobiographical narrative: Galatians 1:13–2:14. Journal for the Study of the New Testament, 40(1), 97–115. Levine, A. (2004). Introduction. In A. Levine (ed.), A Feminist Companion to Paul. Cleveland, OH: The Pilgrim Press, pp. 1–12. Luther, Martin (1538/1999). Galatians. Trans. T. Graebner. Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classics Etheral Library. Available at: http://www.ccel.org/ccel/ luther/galatians.html. Accessed 1 September 2005. Martin, D. B. (1997). The Corinthian Body. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Martyn, J. L. (1997). Galatians. New York: Doubleday. McKenzie, S. L. and Haynes, S. R. (eds). (1999). To Each its own Meaning: An Introduction to Biblical Criticisms and their Application. Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press. Meeks, W. A. (1974). The image of the androgyne: Some uses of the symbol in earliest Christianity. History of Religions, 13, 165–208. Meeks, W. A. (1983). The First Urban Christians. New Haven: Yale University Press. Meeks, W. A. (1993). The Origins of Christian Morality: The First Two Centuries. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Meeks, W. A. (2002). In Search of the Early Christians. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Moore, S. D. and Anderson, J. C. (eds). (1992). Mark and Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press. Nanos, M. D. (2002). The inter- and intra-Jewish political context of Paul’s letter to the Galatians. In M. D. Nanos (ed.), The Galatians Debate: Contemporary Issues in Rhetorical and Historical Criticism. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, pp. 396–407. Pagels, E. (1989). Adam, Eve and the Serpent. New York: Knopf Publishing Group. Parmentier, R. J. (1993). The political function of reported speech: A Belauan example. In J. Lucy (ed.), Reflexive Language and the Human Disciplines. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 261–86. Pippin, T. (1997). Ideological criticisms, liberation criticisms, and womanist and feminist criticisms. In S. E. Porter (ed.), A Handbook to the Exegesis of the New Testament. Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, pp. 267–75. Porter, S. E. (1997). The basic tools of exegesis of the New Testament: A bibliographical essay. In S. E. Porter (ed.), A Handbook to the Exegesis of the New. Boston, MA: Brill Academic Publishers, Testament, pp. 23–41. Porter, S. E. and Clarke, K. D. (1997). What is exegesis? In S. E. Porter (ed.), A Handbook to the Exegesis of the New Testament. Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, pp. 3–21. Ruether, R. R. (1983). Sexism and God-talk: Toward a Feminist Theology. Boston, MA: Beacon Press. Russell, L. M. (1985). Authority and the challenge of feminist interpretation. In L. M. Russell (ed.), Feminist Interpretation of the Bible. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, pp. 137–46).


Sanders, J. A. (1984). Canon and Community: A Guide to Canonical Criticism. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Schüssler Fiorenza, E. (2002). In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins, 10th anniversary edn. New York: Crossroad. Silva, M. (2001). Interpreting Galatians: Explorations in Exegetical Method, 2nd edn. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic. Silverstein, M. and Urban, G. (1996). The natural history of discourse. In M. Silverstein and G. Urban (eds), Natural Histories of Discourse. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 1–17. Vander Stichele, C. and Penner, T. (2005). Mastering the tools or retooling the masters? The legacy of historical-critical discourse. In C. Vander Stichele and T. Penner (eds), Her Master’s Tools? Feminist and Postcolonial Engagements of Historical-Critical Discourse. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature, pp. 1–29. Wetherell, M., Taylor, S., and Yates, S. J. (eds). (2001). Discourse as Data: A Guide for Analysis. London: Sage. Wire, A. C. (1990). The Corinthian Women Prophets: A Reconstruction through Paul’s Rhetoric. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press. Wortham, S. E. F. (1996). Mapping participant deictics: A technique for discovering speakers’ footing. Journal of Pragmatics, 25, 331–48. Wortham, S. E. F. (2001). Narratives in Action: A Strategy for Research and Analysis. New York: Teachers College Press. Wortham, S. E. F. and Locher, M. (1996). Voicing on the news: An analytic technique for studying media bias. Text, 16, 557–85.

4 ‘Do Unto Others’: Gender and the Construction of a ‘Good Christian’ Identity in an E-Community Sage Lambert Graham

Introduction Previous research on women in religious contexts has indicated that women are frequently prevented from participating in the same ways and with the same levels of power and/or prestige as men. Within Christian religions, it is often precisely the characteristics that entail a one-down position that are upheld as desirable (poverty, meekness, persecution in the name of righteousness, and so on). This paradox is problematic for women, who may be torn between trying to achieve equality in a male-dominated hierarchical system while also attempting to craft identities as pious people which may entail adopting identities that carry with them a one-down position. It is the goal of this study to add to our knowledge of how women create their religious identities in a setting where they may feel torn between the desire to achieve power and success (that is, equality) and notions of what constitutes good, pious, Christian-woman behavior. Disparities in Church hierarchy are an ongoing issue for women in a wide array of faiths around the world. In some religious communities, females must contribute in very circumscribed ways; they do not have access to the array of options available to men who are called to ministry. Instead, they are frequently placed in administrative positions where they do the day-to-day management work to run their individual 73


congregations, but are not formally recognized for that contribution through ordination. Females who are called to minister within organized religious communities must instead frequently fight for equality. In July 2006, for example, 12 American women were ordained as Roman Catholic priests in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This ordination followed a secret ceremony in Germany in 2002 in which seven women were ordained by a renegade bishop; these women were later excommunicated. As Patricia Fresen, a Dominican nun from South Africa who was present at these women’s ordinations notes: It’s not the same at all to run a parish as to be a priest. There is a glass-ceiling, and women are second-class citizens. I think the Church would be happy to go on forever to let women do much of the work but not in the form of priestly ministry …. The glass ceiling is almost bullet proof.1 The Roman Catholic Church is not the only religious organization that must address the controversy of women’s ordination. The Church of England still appoints ‘flying bishops’ to cater to parishes that do not recognize women’s ordination and therefore do not want to be visited by female bishops. Jule (2005) notes that female seminary students in the Evangelical Christian Church were silenced (and accepted silence) despite their ‘equal’ status as students moving closer to ordination as priests. Although these are only a few examples of gender disparity in religious contexts, they are representative of the disparities experienced within (Christian) organized religion and women’s attempts to achieve equality within a patriarchal system. One component of the struggle for equality involves the place of women within religious communities. Although women have been ordained as priests in the Anglican Church since the 1940s, early ordinations of women were frequently deemed irregular and there is still controversy surrounding women’s role in the Church. So, although there have been some moves to address the inequalities in religious hierarchy, there is still a disparity in not only the numbers of females in high-ranking church positions, but also in how those trained to be priests are socialized into this (male-dominated) calling. Walsh notes in her examination of women in organized religious contexts that ‘women, whether consciously or not, often have an investment in their own subordinate status’ (2001, p. 20). She also

Gender and Identity in an E-Community 75

argues that ‘the majority of women aspiring to the priesthood were acutely aware of the expectations that they would fashion a distinct identity for themselves, rather than embrace uncritically a masculinist conception of the sacerdotal role’ (Walsh, 2001, p. 165). One of Walsh’s goals is ‘to explore the tensions between women’s construction of themselves, as both campaigning outsiders and as recently ordained insiders, and the sometimes very different ways in which they have been constructed by others …’ (2001, p. 165) Although Walsh is focusing on women ordained into the institutional Church hierarchy, the same issues of identity apply to all women within the Church structure. Robson (1998) explains that women in the Church, whether lay or ordained as deacons, [appear] to have been evaluated according to a set of vocational norms, emphasizing ‘service,’ ‘self-giving,’ ‘self-effacement,’ ‘empowerment of others’ and a lack of interest in worldly forms of wealth and prestige, while men [are] judged according to a set of middle-class professional norms, stressing ‘status,’ ‘preferment,’ ‘stipends,’ ‘job descriptions,’ etc. In addition to the above assertion that women in the Church might be evaluated by their ‘lack of interest in worldly forms of wealth and prestige,’ women in the Christian church have often also been expected to embrace a code of moral behavior that includes kindness, caring for others, nurturing, and humility. This list of ‘proper’ Christian behaviors is by no means limited to women – men are also expected to live up to the qualities of good Christians. But women attempting to break the glass ceiling, like the female Roman Catholic priests discussed above, must balance the expectations of religious ministry (which entail self-giving) with their desire to achieve equality (which might entail aggressive action to achieve professional goals). My goal here is to examine in depth the identity creation of women in an on-line religious community in order to track patterns of identity formation as they relate to notions of Christian behavior. By examining the strategies women use to create their identities, we can gain a more complete understanding of the strategies women have adopted to challenge or subvert authority in the Anglican Church, a setting where men have traditionally held the majority of the power.


Issues of gender in the Christian church The debates about sexuality within the Christian Church have caused an active reassessment of Church policy. Church policy, however, is not the whole picture. As the first ordained female Episcopal ministers discovered, Church doctrine may differ markedly from Church practice on the local level. While doctrine may change on the official stage, there are (sometimes differing) expectations for behavior and practice that are not officially outlined. Jay (2005) notes that females may have expectations imposed upon them by the church structure. He specifically examines cursing and swearing, noting the distinction between obscene language and profane language – that is, while obscene language may reference body parts or sexual acts, profane language involves disrespect for religious figures and/or doctrine. Part of being a good Christian female according to this study, then, involves adhering to the expectations for (female) behavior within the community – among these being ‘avoid profane language and expressions.’ Jule (2005) notes that the women she observed in a theological college were silent all term. She further argues that such specific manners and values are part of their being seen as devout in this community. Women’s roles are supportive roles, even if appearing to reach for the top levels of church governance by enrolling in Master’s of Divinity programmes. … If a century ago there had been a fear that women in theological education would ‘de-feminate’ women and ‘de-masculate’ men, this fear seems an unnecessary worry because, even when present, women continue to behave in quiet, submissive, supportive ways … (Jule, 2005, p. 164) There are other codes for Christian behavior as well, although these are not as quantifiable as swearing/profanity and silence. Among these are the qualities of piety, humility, charity, kindness, compassion, and chastity. Although there are no yardsticks by which one can measure humility, for example, there are guidelines in scripture and doctrine that hold these qualities up as ones that are desirable. The studies by Jay and Jule cited above argue that women’s communicative strategies have been influenced by the patriarchal systems


that exist within the Christian Church structure. In accepting and adopting these communicative strategies, women tacitly accept a subservient position within the Church hierarchy. As I noted in Graham (2005), counter to previous research on computer-mediated communication (Herring, 1992) the on-line Anglican community I have researched includes a higher participation rate among female than male subscribers. In this setting, female community members participate at an equal rate with males. Moreover, the females in this Community of Practice (Eckert and McConnell-Ginet 1992; Holmes and Meyerhoff, 1999; Lavé and Wenger, 1991) position themselves as active and powerful contributors to the community by dynamically refining their expectations for appropriate interaction in this group. This empowerment of women, however, is a complex process; although I have previously addressed positioning strategies used by women to form and (re)negotiate the group identity, there are other, perhaps more subtle, elements to women’s participation. My final conclusions in my previous study posited that if women were allowed fuller participation in an on-line religious community than they are in ‘realworld’ church settings, then they might choose on-line religious practice so that they can achieve power in a system that has been traditionally patriarchal. The fact that women in on-line religious groups might be able to overcome patriarchal practices and achieve a higher level of participation is a promising step in achieving gender equality in religious contexts. Achieving gender equality is still a complex process, however. Exactly what form(s) women’s participation takes and how females navigate the expectations that they (1) be subordinate and (2) support male conversational dominance through silence raises the question of whether females in my e-community are employing different strategies than the male participants to achieve power (and what those strategies might be).

Crafting Christian identities Within the context of the Anglican (and most Christian) communities, there are multiple guidelines that outline which behaviors are desirable; which characteristics one should aspire to. Among these are the Ten Commandments, (which specify that one should not take the name of the Lord in vain, steal, kill, lie, commit adultery, or covet things that belong to others), and the ‘Golden Rule’ which


specifies that you should ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’ (that is, treat others in the way you would like to be treated yourself). These guidelines focus on putting the needs of others ahead of one’s own desires. This is similar to Brown and Levinson’s (1987) negative politeness; it is improper to impose on others (by stealing from them, for example). Positively viewed Christian characteristics are also outlined in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:1–6:34), which lists favorable characteristics for Christians. The text in the New Revised Standard version of the Bible states: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. (Matthew 5:1–6:34) These characteristics are more accurately categorized as embodying positive politeness; if one has these characteristics, one will be ‘Godly’ (and will therefore be liked and admired by others). It is also noteworthy, however, that many of these guidelines encourage and extol the values of subordinate behavior and/or a one-down position – being meek, poor in spirit, and/or persecuted. This issue of being placed in (or accepting) a one-down position is obviously of great concern when examining issues of gender equality in this religious context. Lastly, the vows that individuals must take to become ordained to a ministerial position within the Christian church structure include vows of obedience, chastity and poverty; some religious orders have additional vows such as charity, hospitality, and humility. In each of these cases, the guidelines for behavior de-emphasize hierarchy and attempt to minimize the powerful role that highranking religious figures have. Religious codes of behavior, then, as


outlined by scriptural references and the practices of training within the Church structure, are designed to minimize power differentials while at the same time the organized Church depends on and reinforces them in the administration of Church policy and teaching. Although hierarchy is unavoidable, it seems to run counter to the primary teachings and behavioral guidelines of the Church itself, creating a paradox between effective management of the Church and the embodiment of ‘Christ-like’ behavior.

Interaction in the cyber-parish I began this study with the goal of examining how Anglican women construct their identities in an on-line community and how they reconcile their ‘real-world’ church identities with their on-line personas. This also involves looking at how they navigate the paradox between embodying a code of behavior that upholds a one-down orientation while at the same time attempting to achieve success within a male-dominated profession/hierarchical institution. In order to explore how women create their identities in this community and how they are influenced by the paradox of expectations observed in Jule (2005), I will build on Goffman’s (1967) notions of footing and face. Goffman defines face as ‘an image of self delineated in terms of approved social attributes’ (1967, p. 5). As DeFina, Schiffrin and Bamburg note, explorations of face and footing used in interaction help shed light on ‘how the identities presented … are shaped by the need to preserve an image of oneself which is consistent with the requirements and exigencies of the situation, the interaction, and the needs of the interlocutors’ (2006, p. 9). This is consistent with a social constructivist approach (Berger and Luckman, 1967; Hall, 1996; Kroskrity, 2000) which specifies that identity creation is a dynamic process that ‘yields constellations of identities instead of individual, monolithic constructs’ (DeFina, Schiffrin and Bamburg, 2006, p. 2). Within a social constructivist approach, positioning is a key element to understanding how conversational participants construct their identities in interaction. Van Langenhove and Harré note that positioning ‘refers to the assignment of fluid “parts” or “roles” to speakers in the discursive construction of personal stories that make a person’s actions intelligible and relatively determinate as social acts’ (1999, p. 17). They go on to note that ‘deliberate self-positioning occurs in


every conversation where one wants to express his/her personal identity’ (1999, p. 24). In the case of this study, positioning is a useful framework for analysis because it allows us to account for the fluid processes and overlapping identities created in interactions within a particular Community of Practice (hereafter, C of P). The idea that identities are fluid and dynamic is critical in the analysis of positioning and identity creation. Goffman’s (1981) framework for face/footing is not fully adequate in allowing us to account for the dynamic and emergent nature of community in the formation of identities. The norms of the community in which interaction takes place, however, play a vital role in how individuals shape and refine their identities within the group. Building on a C of P framework, it is one goal of this study to explore how one individual’s identity-formation strategies are influenced by the norms of interaction within a specific e-mail C of P as well as within the institutional structures of the Christian Church. A C of P framework is useful in this community because it provides a mechanism for getting at the dynamic interactional expectations that influence the ways that individual community members construct and refine their on-line religious identities and how this process is influenced by the changing expectations of interaction within the C of P. In this ethnographic case study, I will examine identity construction on ChurchList, an international discussion list devoted to the discussion of issues affecting the Anglican Church. The data comes from a corpus of e-mail messages sent over a period of ten years; for this study I have chosen to focus on interactions during the month of April 2006, specifically the week before Easter (called ‘Holy Week’ in the Anglican Church). This is one of the most critical times in the Church year – it marks the end of Lent (a time of fasting and reflection) and leads to the beginning of a new Church year with the coming of Easter. Lent is the time when churchgoers are called upon to sacrifice worldly goods and pleasures and reflect on their own spirituality and their relationship with God. Given this fact, one might expect churchgoers to come closest to meeting the rules for ‘good’ behavior during this time of the year. If they are focused on selfsacrifice and spiritual reflection, one might expect them to be at their most humble, charitable toward others, and so on. In short, during the ‘holiest’ time of the year, one would expect communication and behavior within an Anglican ‘cyber-parish’ to also be holy.


This expectation of holiness is not only present in the topics of the list, but also in the composition of the membership. Many of the subscribers to the list hold positions of authority in their respective ‘real-world’ churches; many serve in various Church positions as a career – priests, deacons, bishops, nuns, organists, and so on. For this study I am focusing on the postings of the subscriber who posts the largest number of messages during Holy Week: Sister Goldenrod.2 She is an Anglican solitary, and, according to her website, has begun the steps toward ordination to the novitiate (which would formalize her commitment to a life of service to the Church) with the guidance of a spiritual counselor and an Anglican Priest. Although at the time of this study she had not taken her novice vows, she discusses her spiritual journey on her personal website, noting ‘Monasticism is not what I do, it is what I am.’ This statement encapsulates her identity as a person who strives for complete commitment to a life of service to the Church. She also embodies the paradox discussed above. On her website she details her experience with the patriarchy and condescension of the Roman Catholic Church (which ultimately led her to leave it), yet she makes no mention of any aspirations to become a priest or hold a higher-ranking position within the Anglican Church. In this sense, she has embraced her role as one of supportive ministry (which one might argue also entails embracing a subordinate position, as opposed to an equal one). Yet she also constructs her identity as a rebel. On her webpage she describes herself as a part of the ‘counterculture,’ she is outspoken within the e-community in her criticism of hierarchical institutional and political structures in the United States, and she includes stories of her personal experiences with the Roman Catholic Church in which she challenged priests’ and bishops’ attempts to force her into a prescribed role as a secretary or ‘babymaker.’ On ChurchList, she is also adamant in saying that she is ‘sticking up for herself’ when she is criticized by other list members (in some cases, listmembers who hold positions of authority in the ‘real-world’ church – priests, deacons, bishops, and so on). This rebellion against hierarchical structures that emerges from her criticism of those in power and her willingness to advocate for herself indicates a resistance to accepting a one-down position even as she also employs strategies that entail subordinate status. Of the total number of posts during Holy Week (n ⫽ 439), 60 percent (n ⫽ 262) were posted by female list members, while 40 per cent


(n ⫽ 177) were posted by males. Of the total number of posts, Sister Goldenrod accounts for 24 per cent (n ⫽ 104), which is over twice as many messages as the next-most-frequent poster (n ⫽ 50). This numeric breakdown is consistent with my findings in Graham (2005), but again, does not account for the complex strategies used by Sister Goldenrod to construct her identity within the community and achieve a balance between: (1) the subordinate role that is dictated by Christian codes of behavior; (2) her desire to achieve her own professional goals within the Church; and (3) her desire to occupy a non-subordinate position within this electronic C of P.

Conflicts during Holy Week – politics and nicknames Despite the doctrines that dictate ‘pious and proper’ behavior in the real world, which might lead one to expect ‘nice’ and cordial behavior on the list, there is a great deal of vitriolic interaction considering the fact that it calls itself a cyber-parish. There are multiple conflicts that arise during Holy Week; the two most prominent involve: (1) a political debate about providing health care and services for impoverished people; and (2) a personal conflict involving the use of nicknames/forms of address. In both of these conflicts, Sister Goldenrod plays a prominent role; it is one of her posts that begins the debate about health care and services for the needy, and it is her name that is the focus of the nickname controversy. The first conflict arose as a result of Sister Goldenrod’s post criticizing a political agenda that, she argued, would limit access to health care for the needy. This type of post is not unusual for Sister Goldenrod, she is frequently outspoken against groups (political or otherwise) that she perceives as using resources for less important things than providing services for the poor. The second of these conflicts arises after Sister Goldenrod posts a message asking for personal support from the other community members. She explains that her doctor has just advised her to move because her housing situation is aggravating her health conditions. Because of her physical and financial limitations, however, she is feeling overwhelmed and therefore asks for prayers from the other listmembers. In a response to this request for support, one female listmember, Ernestine, shortens Sister Goldenrod’s name and calls her by her initials, GR, while providing support and


information about the health issues that Sister Goldenrod has described. Sister Goldenrod responds, calling Ernestine by the wrong name; this leads to a conflict in which Sister Goldenrod attacks several listmembers for not considering her feelings and respecting her request to not be called by a nickname; the other listmembers then chastise her for reacting too emotionally and making the discussion ‘all about her.’ Prior to both of these conflicts, Sister Goldenrod has constructed an identity that encompasses characteristics that are desirable in demonstrating that one is a ‘good Christian’; this identity is then questioned/challenged when the conflicts described above arise. Next, I will explore the strategies used by Sister Goldenrod to construct her ‘Church’ identity and then explore the strategies she uses to try to increase her credibility as a Christian woman in this C of P.

‘Sister Goldenrod’ Before discussing the specific identity-construction strategies used by Sister Goldenrod during the Holy Week conflicts, some discussion of her prior identity work is in order. In crafting her on-line identity as a pious woman and ‘good Christian,’ Sister Goldenrod has adopted multiple faces (Goffman, 1967) both on this list as well as on her personal webpage: (1) she constructs an identity as a career holy person – someone who has chosen service to the Church as his/her vocation; (2) she attempts to present herself in a way that maximizes her Christian qualities (even though these qualities sometimes entail a one-down orientation); and (3) she is conversant in and takes pains to demonstrate her expertise in religious study and practice. In adopting strategies to craft her identity as a person who has chosen service to the Church as a career, Sister Goldenrod also adopts an identity that brings with it an element/assumption of piousness. There are two primary ways that she reinforces the notion of herself as a career holy person: (1) she describes her spiritual journey toward the novitiate in detail; and (2) she adopts the moniker of a nun. During one thread which occurred before Holy Week, Sister Goldenrod describes her spiritual journey to another listmember who feels called to enter a life of ministry, but doesn’t know where to start. Sister Goldenrod advises him to find a good spiritual advisor/mentor and then describes her own progression toward her ‘calling.’ She reinforces


this identity as an advisor on her webpage, which again includes references to her own spiritual journey and advice for others who are attempting to pursue a life of ministry. In both of these places (her web page and her on-line interaction within the e-mail community), she talks about being called to a life of ministry and service – rather than presenting herself as wanting to pursue ministry as a career. Since clergy members often talk of receiving ‘the call,’ her use of this metaphor underscores Sister Goldenrod’s alignment with and identity as one who is pursuing a monastic life. By crafting an identity as a career holy person, moreover, she also increases her ‘spiritual capital’ within this C of P. In addition to establishing her expertise as one who has chosen (or been called to) a vocation of service to the Church, Sister Goldenrod also crafts her identity as spiritual and pious by including a quotation from Mother Teresa in her ‘sig. line,’ an automatic message that is attached to the end of each email that she sends. Sig. lines are often quotations, but because they fall just below the message writer’s name at the end of the message, there is an assumption that the quotation is something the message writer would declare him or herself, or would otherwise view as representative of his/her beliefs. By including a quotation from (arguably) the most famous nun in the world as a part of each message she sends, Goldenrod underscores her identity as ‘nun-like’ and reinforces her alignment/association with a figure who devoted her life to ministry and service. In this way, Goldenrod also bolsters the ‘nunly’ associations the other community members might have of her. She also adopts the moniker of a nun. Despite the fact that she is not technically a nun (since she is not affiliated with a particular order), she signs each of her messages as Sr. Goldenrod and her webpage address, ‘collectornun.com,’ combines two details about her: a reference to one of her hobbies and a reference to her professional identity. Even though she is not really a nun, then, Goldenrod includes multiple references to her self-identification as a nun (or as nun-like). Moreover, during the conflict over her name, she says that ‘If Goldenrod is [too] timeconsuming, you may address me as Sister or Sr.’ In this way, Sister Goldenrod’s use of the title ‘Sister’ enhances her identity as one who has adopted a nunly life as a career and thereby has the potential to enhance her ‘spiritual capital’ within this group.


It is not surprising that Sister Goldenrod crafts an identity that incorporates these characteristics, since these are features that are upheld both by scriptural guidelines and are valued within the e-community itself. What is intriguing is the way that she modifies the construction of this preformed identity when she is criticized by the other listmembers in the course of the conflicts mentioned above. When the characteristics outlined above no longer seem to be sufficient to remove her from conflict and/or criticism within the two Holy Week conflicts, shebegins to adopt other strategies of crafting her identity which draw on scriptural and doctrinal codes of ‘Christian’ behaviors and characteristics. I will now examine these in greater depth.

‘Doing unto others …’ In creating her identity as one who has devoted her life to religious observance, Sister Goldenrod implies an association with the ‘good Christian’ characteristics discussed above. One of these involves protecting others’ positive face by being ‘nice.’ In the name-calling conflict, however, Sister Goldenrod (in addition to several other listemembers), violates this dictum. The first way that Sister Goldenrod fails on this count is by entering a name-calling contest with another listmember. As I mentioned above, the name conflict arose after one listmember, Ernestine, offered Sister Goldenrod some advice after Sister Goldenrod requested prayers and support from the community. Ernestine says, ‘GR, I don’t think you have to move,’ and then offers some specific, practical suggestions for how Sister Goldenrod might manage her health and breathing problems in other ways. Sister Goldenrod responds, not only calling Ernestine by the wrong name, but also undermining Ernestine’s suggestions by calling on the authority and expertise of her own doctor. Example 1 Edith, the doctor told me that the particulate from the exhaust from the cars on the freeway is too tiny to be captured in an air purifier and that there is not one made that does. – May the Holy Spirit dance in your heart!


Sr. Goldenrod Lent is a time when we relive the passion of Christ. Let it not be just a time when our feelings are roused, but let it be a change that comes through cooperation with God’s grace in real sacrifice of self. – Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta (emphasis mine) After Sister Goldenrod responds to Ernestine by using the wrong name, Ernestine responds by addressing her next message as to ‘Gertrude’ and signing that message ‘Edith (with Archie’s best).’ The two continue arguing and calling each other by incorrect names, moving from a discussion of what to tell Goldenrod’s doctor to accusations by Ernestine that Sister Goldenrod is ‘pretty caught up in her own stuff.’ In this series of exchanges, Goldenrod calls Ernestine ‘Ethelberta’ and Ernestine responds by addressing Golden-rod as ‘Grizelda.’ Ernestine then criticizes Sister Goldenrod for her lack of sensitivity and concern for others in getting her name wrong. She states: Example 2 You know what, Grizelda? … you haven’t even the sensitivity to notice that you called me ‘Edith’ in the beginning. … Sincerely, Ernestine. P.S. My name is Ernestine. My mother’s name is Ernestine. My great grandmother’s name was Ernestine. My cousin’s name is Ernestine. Not an Edith in the damned bunch. (emphasis mine) In this case, Goldenrod is accused of being insensitive (which she declares hurt her very deeply in a later message). Since nuns are expected to be caring toward others, this accusation runs counter to Sister Goldenrod’s identity as an effective or credible nun. The strength of the accusation is increased by the use of the period after Ernestine’s name at the end of the message. Since signatures are not normally followed by punctuation, this action adds declarative


impact and reinforces the fact that Goldenrod wasn’t sensitive enough to use the right name: Ernestine. After being called Grizelda, Goldenrod posts the following: Example 3 ⬎ You know what, Grizelda?3 I tried to let you know in a gentle manner that I did not appreciate the liberties you took with my name. GR is not an acceptable way to address me. If Goldenrod is really that time consuming, you may address me as Sister or Sr. ⬎ You have no idea I anyone else has had a bad day. ⬎ You’re pretty wrapped up in your own stuff. ⬎ How about asking us what kind of day we’ve had? I have never given any indication of anything other than caring about people on this list. If you or anyone else is having a bad day, they are as equally free to ask for prayer pats. … Yes I am wrapped up in my own stuff. … Laying a guilt trip or trying to heap burning coals on my head is not helping me. I suppose if I told you that I had an ingrown toenail you’d like to step in it for fun? … (emphasis mine) There are several noteworthy features of this message. Sister Goldenrod attempts to underscore her identity as a compassionate Christian by declaring that (1) in using the wrong name to refer to Ernestine she was attempting to correct Ernestine in a ‘gentle’ manner; and (2) she cares about other people. But in the same message she also undermines her identity as a compassionate person by accusing Ernestine of attacking her unjustly and ‘just for fun.’ In accusing and judging another listmember for unchristian behavior, however (as opposed to offering forgiveness), Sister Goldenrod creates an image of herself as unforgiving and uncompassionate (and therefore unchristian). This strategy of criticizing others for their unchristian behavior is not limited to her interactions with Ernestine. After the sequence of messages where Ernestine and Goldenrod call one another by the wrong names, several listmembers post messages stating that, while


Goldenrod is entitled to a preference, there will be times when people make mistakes and get names wrong. Goldenrod responds with multiple messages in which she declares that the list is being inconsiderate to her wishes, in these messages she calls the other listmembers judgmental, uncaring and cruel, and objects to the fact that the other listmembers want her to justify her name preferences. She also accuses several other listmembers of not apologizing for using nicknames to refer to her after she voices her objections to the shortening of her name. In one such exchange, when a priest on the list reiterates the idea that Sister Goldernod is ‘pretty caught up in her own stuff,’ she responds by saying ‘you are so smug and dismissive.’ By responding to other listmembers with criticism and name-calling, even as she is attempting to construct her own identity as one whose life mirrors the solemn vows of nuns and priests, Goldenrod also positions herself as unchristian. Forms of impolite interaction also work to undermine Goldenrod’s construction of herself as someone who follows a Christian way of life. While Goldenrod condemns others for not apologizing to her with statements such as ‘perhaps it would be more courteous to respect my stated wishes,’ (which implies that the others have been discourteous), she simultaneously undermines her credibility as a pious woman by using sarcasm, which in this case not only as impolite, but also as unchristian (since this is one of the ways that she fails at ‘doing unto others …’. Example 4 I suppose if I told you that I had an ingrown toenail you’d like to step in it for fun? Because that is exactly what you are doing to me. I told you I was in a very bad place today and all you can do is criticize me? Such compassion. – May the Holy Spirit dance in your heart! Sr. Goldenrod Lent is a time when we relive the passion of Christ. Let it not be just a time when our feelings are roused, but let it be a change that comes through cooperation with God’s grace in real sacrifice of self. – Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta [sic]


In this message, Goldenrod uses a sarcastic utterance to position Ernestine as being unchristian – not being compassionate and deriving pleasure from inflicting pain on others. This is consistent with Goldenrod’s strategy in other messages – she accuses multiple listmembers of unchristian behavior even as she is criticized for being unchristian herself. Moreover Goldenrod also uses utterances that, while seeming polite on the surface, are actually mock-politeness (Culpeper, Bousfield and Wichmann, 2003; Culpeper, 2006). Mockpoliteness is defined by Culpeper as an FTA (Brown and Levinson, 1987) that ‘is performed with the use of politeness strategies that are obviously insincere, and thus remain surface realizations’ (Culpeper, 2006, p. 42). In one such instance within the names conflict, Goldenrod states ‘I am sorry’ after she has been criticized for her behavior, but follows this ‘polite’ formulaic utterance with criticism of the other listmembers. Example 5 I am sorry that people of this list are unable to distinguish between a general dislike of what the Republican Party is doing and the dislike of individuals. Example 6 ⬎ I’m betting, however, that is will just be easier to move. Or talk about moving. ⬎ Or something. I am sorry, but I don’t know what you mean about it being easier to talk about moving. It sounds to me as if you either don’t believe my report about what the doctor said or that I’d rather complain than take action. And I would be very glad to know that I am mistaken. The phrase ‘I am sorry’ is often interpreted as a polite form of indicating regret for one’s actions. Beginning the messages above with a declaration that she is sorry might herald a message indicating remorse for her earlier ‘unforgiving’ and self-involved behavior. In both of these cases, however, the statement that she is sorry is insincere and instead provides a vehicle for her to criticize others, which again undermines her attempts at crafting an identity as a pious, nunly, Christian woman.


While sarcasm is viewed negatively for anyone, the use of sarcasm by someone who has created an identity as a nun is particularly problematic, since it runs counter to the expectation that nuns should be among the most pious and caring of people. In addition to using mock-politeness and sarcasm to attack others, within these conflicts Goldenrod also withholds the blessing that ordinarily appears in her sig. line in several messages. In the majority of her messages, Sister Goldenrod’s sig. line underscores her identity as: (1) a person familiar with scripture and religious figures and doctrine; and (2) her association with Christian ideals as discussed above. Most of the time, the sig. line seems to accomplish this without incident. Within the Holy Week conflicts, however, the sig. line often provides a striking counterpoint to the content of the messages themselves. In the conflict about politics and the treatment of the poor, one listmember notes that ‘how you think of [fiscal responsibility] is not shared by many of us sinners, and the world therefore doesn’t run according to how you think it should.’ Sister Goldenrod replies: Example 7 What a very odd and dysfunctional response to an idle thought. – May the Holy Spirit dance in your heart! Sr. Goldenrod … Lent is a time when we relive the passion of Christ. Let it not be just a time when our feelings are roused, but let it be a change that comes through cooperation with God’s grace in real sacrifice of self. – Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta [sic] In this case, calling someone’s response odd and dysfunctional seems inconsistent with the wish that they be ‘infused with the Holy Spirit,’ as well as contradicting the ‘sacrifices of self’ in the Mother Teresa quote at the end of the sig. line. One reading of this is that Sister Goldenrod is attempting to offer spiritual guidance/advice after pointing out another’s shortcomings. If this is the case, the act would place Sister Goldenrod in a one-up position, since it would position her as one who has the authority or expertise to direct and advise others on


how to behave. Later in the conflict, however, she withholds her sig. line, thereby undermining any identity as a forgiving Christian the use of the sig. line might have given her. In part, this is due to the fact that eliminating a sig. line cannot be accidental. Eliminating her sig. line is a deliberate act; since e-mail sig. lines are attached automatically to each message sent, the removal of a sig. line requires actively deleting it within the e-mail preference settings, which in this case frames the action as a deliberately aggressive and/or marked act. In one of the five messages where Goldenrod deletes her sig. line, she writes: I keep getting told what a loving community this is. Surely a loving community would respect my desire for privacy and take me at my word that diminutives of my name are not acceptable to me. ‘No’, after all, is a complete sentence. I don;lt [sic] believe I need to explain myself in order to have people hear and respect it. (no sig. line) In this case, Goldenrod appears to be lashing out at the other listmembers in withholding this sig. line quote that advocates ‘cooperation with God’s grace in real sacrifices of self.’ Again, although she has declared throughout this conflict that she is a compassionate, pious, and caring person, her withholding of a blessing that she normally gives undermines this caring identity. The other listmembers respond to Goldenrod’s posts about her name by accusing her of unchristian and un-nunly behavior. Example 8 In the particular case you were bitching about, you were lucky it was a name as pretty and probably affectionate as ‘Golden Glory’ … and not something worse. … You are _never_ going to get everybody (in _any_ place) to observe at all times the full and correct spelling of your whole first name, no matter how many tantrums you throw about it. … If you want to be seen as a nun, then act like one (invariably), and wear a verbal ‘habit’ (invariably). (emphasis mine)


In this case, this listmember is directly challenging Sister Goldenrod’s identity as a nun by implying that she isn’t acting like one; Sister Goldenrod’s identity as a pious, caring person is therefore under attack. Another listmember, a priest, further points out that, in requesting that she be addressed as a nun, Goldenrod is requesting an accommodation that is not consistent with the normal practice in this C of P. In this instance, it is not only her identity as a nun that is being challenged here, it is also her insistence that the other listmembers reinforce this identity by addressing her with the title of a nun. Example 9 ‘Sister’ may be a stretch since we don’t on this list normally refer to members who are priests as ‘Father’ or ‘Mother,’ or to deacons as ‘Deacon,’ or to bishops as ‘Rt. Rev. Father in God.’ A list rule (unwritten, to be sure) seems to be to use first names. Any other use is seen as ‘saying something’ in addition to identifying. In these messages, the other listmembers challenge Goldenrod’s request that she be addressed with the moniker of a nun. For her, adopting ‘Sister’ as a form of address might be seen as a move to increase her authority as a spiritual person (as noted above). In this case, however, her insistence on being addressed this way runs counter to the norms within this C of P and therefore undermines her authority rather than enhancing it, as seen in Example10 below: Example 10 Alright, dammit, give us a break. You and your obsessions are becoming tedious beyond belief. An uncle of mine once said when asked how he preferred to be addressed: ‘I don’t care what you call me, as long as you call me to dinner.’ … In my real life, people sometimes call me Abe. I simply tell them, call me Abe and I won’t respond. But make an issue of it? PULLEEZE. Goldenrod, this list is a lot of things, but it is not an open session in group therapy. You clearly need professional help …


You are clearly reaching out for sympathy and compassion. Yet you are increasingly alienating everyone on this list. I haven’t even read what it is that you insist on being called. I don’t care. Your name is Goldenrod, and that’s good enough for me. But if you keep this up, ain’t no one even gonna call you to dinner. In addition to criticizing Goldenrod’s actions like many other posts in these two conflictual threads, this poster ‘ups the ante’ by suggesting that Goldenrod needs therapy. In this case, not only has her nun-like credibility been challenged, her mental health has been questioned as well. Moreover, this writer also positions Goldenrod as reaching out for sympathy and compassion. By positioning her as someone who wants and/or needs to receive sympathy and compassion (rather than providing sympathy and compassion to others), Abe further undermines Goldenrod’s identity as a giving, nun-like figure and a Christian and reinforces a one-down orientation. In the next section, I will discuss the strategies that Sister Goldenrod employs to create a strong Christian identity after her identity as a pious nun-like person who cares for others is questioned. These strategies include: (1) constructing piety; (2) adopting a Christlike martyr persona; and (3) adopting the Christ-like attribute of poverty.

Constructing piety When she is criticized by the other listmembers for calling them names and being uncaring, one of the strategies that Sister Goldenrod adopts is to highlight an identity as one with expertise in religious doctrine and practice. In one message she sends after the conflict over her name has been ongoing for two days, she notes: Example 11 It’s Holy Week and that is where my attention should focus. Which reminds me, I’d better spend some time looking through the Triduum4 volume of my Breviary5 to be sure I know what I am doing when I start praying from it ion [sic] Thursday.


Beginning a new thread about breviaries allows Sister Goldenrod to demonstrate her religious knowledge and expertise, and to some extent counterbalance the behaviors that have caused her to be criticized within the conflict about her name. She acknowledges that she should be focusing on the fact that it is Holy Week and thereby reinforces her identity as a pious person who focuses on religious practice. She also reinforces this identity by referring to the fact that she uses a Breviary – a book that serves as a guideline for prayer. She advises others on the list as to which Breviary she uses, and, in a later message, notes the problems she has had with different versions. Example 12 I have the Anglican Breviary and gave up on that. I know a hermit who rewrote his copy into a 700 page document in order to have it make sense. I use the Monastic Dirurnal6 Revised. … I have to admit, the Daily Offices in the BCP7 are the simplest to use. [sic] In discussing breviaries, Sister Goldenrod positions herself as an expert within the community of practicing Christians. In referring to three different prayer books (the Anglican Breviary, the Monastic Breviary, and the Book of Common Prayer), she demonstrates the fact that she has used a variety of resources to guide and enhance her spiritual practice. She also positions herself as expert enough to criticize the Anglican Breviary for being too hard to understand. Although her comments about this work include the fact that she found the text too difficult (which might undermine her expertise), her claim that a hermit rewrote a 700-page adaptation of this work in order to make it understandable indicates that the Anglican breviary is too obscure for any person. It also implies that it is unreasonably long, since it was translated into a 700-page document. Goldenrod also notes that she uses the Monastic Diurnal Breviary, which is an 880-page work translated from Latin. By contrasting these two works, she positions herself as not only knowledgeable, but also as someone who has the expertise to critically evaluate these resources. There are also cases where Sister Goldenrod makes reference to her ‘real-world’ church community, thereby underscoring a link to and


involvement with religious practice in a non-solitary Church setting. This involvement also enhances her spiritual capital on ChurchList; although being a solitary monastic may be viewed as holy, having contact and involvement within a spiritual community also lends one credibility in this setting. Discussing how she practices her faith/prayers, then, allows Sister Goldenrod to construct her identity as a practicing Christian, which has the potential to increase her credibility within this community. Finally, Sister Goldenrod constructs her identity as a pious, practicing Christian by making references to her spiritual practices and activities. She notes in one message that she prays ‘for all the members of this list everyday.’

Identity as an outcast/martyr/ persecuted one Sister Goldenrod adopts multiple strategies in an attempt to reconstruct her identity and recover her face during and after the conflicts described above. When Goldenrod fails at ‘doing unto others …’ and is criticized for that failure, she adopts strategies to recover her identity as a ‘good Christian.’ One of these involves adopting an identity as a martyr, which, one could argue, allows her to craft an image of ‘Christ-like’ persecution. This is consistent with the Beatitudes quoted above: ‘Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’ In crafting an identity as a martyr/one who is being persecuted, Goldenrod is calling on the positive associations with these behaviors that are outlined in these scriptural passages. Sister Goldenrod creates her identity as one who is persecuted on both her web page and within the list community. When discussing why she is not part of a religious order on her web site, she explains that either (1) she didn’t agree with their politics or (2) they didn’t respond favorably to her as a candidate. In the first case, she can form an identity as one who stands up for her principles, even if she is condemned for doing so. In the second case, not being received into a religious community positions her as an outcast (like Jesus). On the list, she also reinforces her identity as a (Christ-like) outcast by highlighting her persecution by the other listmembers.


Example 13 I don’t get this need people on this list have to extrapolate from my words something I never said. … That you want to twist my words into something I never said reveals more about you than me. Example 14 Why don’t all of you who have something against me, who for whatever reason are unable to let go of it and forgive me for being a sinner and a human being like everyone else just unloiad it all at once? Just post to the list all the reasons that you think i am too despicable to share the planet with you and just get it out of your systems. [sic] In this message, Goldenrod is not present as an actor in the sequence of events – she is simply describing what the other listmembers have done (extrapolate incorrect meanings, twist her words). By not positioning herself as an agent in the events she describes, Goldenrod constructs herself as a passive recipient, and therefore reinforces her persona as a victim/one who is persecuted. Although being an outcast and being persecuted are characteristics that are associated with Christ in the Christian Church, for Goldenrod, these associations only bring criticism. Example 15 ⬎ You might meditate on why this is continually happening to you, and ⬎ not to most of the other posters who post what are probably minority ⬎ opinions. Why are they not writing whiny notes complaining about how ⬎ they are being mistreated? Because, unlike them, people do not respond to me in highly insulting terms. They are disagreed with in a respectful manner. … ⬎ Consider that perhaps you are somehow asking for this kind of response.


⬎ You continually announce your opinions, and when somebody takes ⬎ exception to them, you quickly jump into victim mode … ⬎ IAE8 I find myself having less and less sympathy for you as this cycle repeats ⬎ itself, in which *you* Sr. Goldenrod, and *your* hurt feelings somehow always ⬎ become the center of discussion. But **I** don’t make them the center of the discussion. In this particular case, it is you who have done so. Example 16 Goldenrod, the victim pitcher that goes too often to the well frequently gets broken. Example 17 Life is tough. People fight. Sometimes not nicely. Playing the victim in such cases is not IMO9 productive. And you *are* playing the victim, as you also do with your poverty. (emphasis mine) In this case, Goldenrod’s identity as a victim might actually have the potential to increase her clout within this religious community by associating her more strongly with ‘Christ-like’ characteristics (that is, being one who is persecuted unjustly). She reinforces this by balancing her statements about her persecution with references to her active prayer practices and her expertise in religious doctrine. Although being persecuted entails a one-down position, in a Christian community, being persecuted has the potential to increase one’s association with the religious ideal (even while also requiring that one-down position). One might note that any attempt to cast oneself as a victim is likely to be an attempt at achieving power through assigning agency to another; but in this (Christian) community, being victimized has the potential to increase one’s association with a positive figure and therefore might be used as an attempt to increase credibility/clout within this C of P. Whether or not this is Goldenrod’s only intent here is not clear, but in any event this (potentially empowering) strategy fails as she is criticized by the other community members for adopting a stance as one who has been persecuted.


The prominence of poverty In addition to crafting an identity as one who is persecuted in the name of righteousness, Goldenrod also calls upon another facet of behavior that is upheld in Church Doctrine and Scripture (despite the fact that it also entails a one-down position): poverty. As one of the vows that many ordained ministers take, poverty is upheld as a desirable characteristic – particularly for someone like Goldenrod who is actively pursuing a career in ministry. Poverty is one of the characteristics that is upheld within the Christian Church; although nuns and priests are not always required to take a specific vow of poverty, according to Father Michael LC (a Roman Catholic Priest), priests are ‘called through [their] imitation of Christ and [their] Christian life to live the spirit of poverty.’10 As I mentioned above, one of the two conflicts that occurs concurrently with the threads on names and name-calling relates to political issues – specifically the distribution of health care resources to the poor. Sister Goldenrod has frequently declared her passion about this issue in previous posts and addresses it directly in this sequence of messages. At the same time, she also creates an identity as someone who lives in poverty herself. Example 18 I am trying to make people understand what it is like to live in poverty in the USA. In the past three weeks in my neighborhood there has been a murder [and] a SWAT team action … This kind of thing stresses me out. … It is highly stressful to live in poverty. I am not asking anyone to take care of me. I am asking you to see that those of us who live in poverty have names and faces and that you might know us. How cruel and mean-spirited it is to think I mean anything else. You might examine your own motives in saying that. [sic] As was the case with creating an identity as persecuted, constructing her own poverty is also a way for Goldenrod to reinforce her ‘Christ-like’ identity. If nuns and priests, who are revered as being holy, adopt a


lifestyle that embraces poverty in order to live in a Christ-like way, by adopting a persona of poverty Goldenrod potentially increases her spiritual clout in demonstrating that she lives in poverty also. In addition, in the example above Goldenrod admonishes the other listmembers to remember that people living in poverty ‘have faces,’ which reinforces her nun-like persona in creating her as an instructor in how others should practice Christian piety. This strategy, however, like her attempt to create an identity as one who is persecuted, also fails. In this case, Goldenrod’s poverty is not itself challenged. Instead, other listmembers also post messages declaring their experiences with poverty, which undermines the strength of Goldenrod’s strategy. One such listmember, Doris, asks: Example 19 Do you think I’ve never been poor or something? I’ve been low income most of my life. In this case, Joshua, a priest who has also entered the discussion about poverty, responds by saying: Example 20 I’ve been poor a number of times. I lived in a tent for a period. I’ve also been ‘low income’: for much of my early years of ministry my children were eligible for free school lunches. Probably still would be if I had them at home. By constructing themselves as poor, these other listmembers counteract Goldenrod’s strategy to raise herself through her (Christ-like) poverty. In fact, several listmembers get into a ‘who’s the poorest’ match, which might be considered evidence for the importance of embodying Christ-like characteristics; if being Christ-like is important within this community, adopting a persona of poverty is one potential way to construct a Christ-like identity and thereby increase one’s respectability within the (Christian) C of P. Goldenrod addresses this directly when she posts a message asking if the other listmembers are trying to engage her in a contest about living in poverty.


Example 21 … Are we playing bridge? Are you trying to trump me? So, because I am not as worse off as someone else, I don’t deserve prayer, compassion or consideration? … Again, the idea that the listmembers would try to ‘trump’ one another in declaring who is the poorest indicates the importance of poverty within this community. Having multiple listmembers construct their own poverty, however, also results in the strategy being less effective for Goldenrod. If creating poverty is a way to enhance her Christian persona, then this strategy is limited when other listmembers use the same strategy and thereby dilute the effectiveness of the move for Goldenrod.

Discussion As I noted above, in this Christian community (as in others) there appears to be a paradox for women between trying to achieve power and be assertive and attempting to embody the characteristics frequently associated with Christian identities and Christ-like behavior. In the case of Sister Goldenrod, she is trying to simultaneously construct a Christian identity while also constructing a powerful/expert one. In doing so, she interestingly tries to embrace characteristics that are subordinate/one-down to increase her standing and credibility within this C of P. After the conflicts have been going on for four days, Goldenrod is asked by Joshua, ‘Is there anybody today you haven’t attacked?’ Goldenrod responds by saying: Example 22 I have not attacked anyone. I have not called anyone names. I have stood up for myself. … I have been assertive and women often get called names when they assert themselves. (emphasis mine) This statement seems to indicate that Goldenrod interprets her behavior as simply standing up for herself as an assertive woman. To the other listmembers, however, she has undermined her identity as a nunly person and called into question her Christian persona through violating


the admonition to ‘do unto others.’ When she tries to reassert her identity as a Christian by taking on the characteristics of poverty and martyrdom, these strategies are either countered by other listmembers (in the case of poverty) or criticized (in the case of martyrdom). So, although she tries to raise herself above the subordinate status through both (1) co-opting ‘Christian’ characteristics and making them markers of power and credibility, and (2) sticking up for herself in an overt and open way, her attempts falls short and in fact draw additional criticism from the other community members. Further, her attempt to craft her identity as an expert and practicing Christian also falls short. Although she is not directly challenged in her attempts to demonstrate her expertise and advise others on spiritual matters, her action is counterbalanced by other listmembers who display equal expertise, active practice, and involvement in the Church. Although this study only examines one case, it illustrates the conflicting pressures on women attempting to achieve equality (professional or social) within Anglican Church communities. In this case, after damaging her credibility as a nun, Sister Goldenrod adopts strategies to increase her spiritual capital within this C of P that include: (1) demonstrating her religious expertise and piety; (2) adopting a persona as one who is ‘persecuted in the name of righteousness’; and (3) crafting an identity of poverty. Each of these characteristics could be said to reflect characteristics that are revered within the Christian church as Christ-like. Also noteworthy, however, is the fact that, while demonstrating expertise can increase one’s credibility in an overt way, crafting persecution and poverty entails a one-down orientation. In this setting, Sister Goldenrod tries to employ not only strategies that are used to establish credibility in a traditional (male-dominated) way, but also to ‘flip’ strategies that place her in a subordinate position to instead increase her spiritual clout within this group. One potential avenue for future study might examine whether this strategy is adopted by other listmembers (male or female) and whether all female listmembers in this C of P attempt to craft their identities in ways that allow them to take one-down characteristics and use them as markers of power. If, as Walsh (2001) notes, the expectation is that women will craft identities for themselves that are different from those of their male counterparts, the question arises: ‘What will these identities be and how will they be evaluated’? Goldenrod’s attempt to alter one-down strategies in order to increase


her spiritual capitol in this C of P is certainly different from the strategies and identities that have frequently been adopted by males in this setting, but in the end she is unable to use them to create a more powerful, one-up position.

Notes 1. Boorstein, B. ‘Reclaiming the Feminine Spirit in the Catholic Priesthood.’ The Washington Post.com at: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wpdyn/ content/article/2006/07/29/AR2006072900849.html 2. All names are pseudonyms. 3. Messages often include material quoted from previous messages. Within the new message, this quoted material is often set apart by a ‘⬎’ symbol before each line of (quoted) text. 4. Triduum is a term used by some Christian churches, particularly the Roman Catholic Church, to denote, collectively, the last three days before Easter Sunday (www.wikipedia.org). 5. A Breviary is a liturgical book containing the public or canonical prayers, hymns, the Psalms, readings, and notations for everyday use, especially for priests, in the Divine Office (series of prayers to be recited for specific purposes or at specific times of the day) (www.wikipedia.org). 6. The Monastic Diurnal is an 880-page translation of the Latin Breviarium Monasticum. 7. Book of Common Prayer. This is a book used in Anglican Worship services which lists prayers, psalms, and guides for special services and ceremonies. 8. In Any Event. 9. In My Opinion. 10. This explanation was sent in response to an email query to: www. vocation.com

Works cited Berger, P. and Luckman, T. 1967. The Social Construction of Reality. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Brown, P. and Levinson, S. (1987). Politeness: Some Universals in Language Usage. New York and Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Culpeper, J. (2005). Impoliteness and entertainment in the television quiz show: The weakest link. Journal of Politeness Research 1(1), 35–72. Culpeper, J., Bousfield, D. and Wichmann, A. (2003). Impoliteness revisited: With special reference to dynamic and prosodic aspects. Journal of Pragmatics 35(10–11), 1545–79. Davies, B. and Harré, R. (1990). ‘Positioning: The discursive production of selves.’ Journal for the Theory of Social Behavior 20, 43–63. DeFina, A., Schiffrin, D. and Bamberg, M. (2006). Discourse and Identity. New York and Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.


Eckert, P. and McConnell-Ginet, S. (1992). ‘Communities of practice: Where language, gender and power all live.’ In K. Hall, M. Bucholtz and B. Moonwoman (eds), Locating Power: Proceedings of the 2nd Berkeley Women and Language Group, University of California, pp. 89–99. Father Michael, FC. (2006). Answer to query sent to: www.vocation.com. Goffman, E. (1967). ‘On face work.’ In E. Gofman (ed.), Interaction Ritual: Essays on Face to Face Behavior. New York: Pantheon, pp. 49–95. Goffman, E. (1981). Forms of Talk. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Graham, S. (2003). Cooperation, Conflict and Community in Computer-Mediated Communication. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. Washington, DC: Georgetown University. UMI number: 3114024. Graham, S. (2005). ‘A cyber-parish: Gendered identity construction in an online Episcopal community.’ In A. Jule (ed.), Gender and the Language of Religion. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Hall, S. 1996. Who needs ‘identity’? In S. Hall and P. duGay (eds), Questions of Cultural Identity. London: Sage. Harré, R. and van Langenhove, L. (1999). Positioning Theory. Oxford: Blackwell, pp. 14–31. Herring, S. (1992). ‘Gender and participation in computer-mediated linguistic discourse.’ Washington, DC: ERIC Clearinghouse on Languages and Linguistics: ED 345552. Holmes, J. and Meyerhoff, M. (1999). ‘The community of practice: Theories and methodologies in language and gender research.’ Language in Society 28, 173–83. Jay, T. (2005). ‘American women: Their cursing habits and religiosity.’ In A. Jule (ed.), Gender and the Language of Religion. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Jule, A. (2005). ‘Language use and silence as morality: Teaching and lecturing at an evangelical theology college.’ In A. Jule (ed.), Gender and the Language of Religion. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Kroskrity, P. 1993. Language, History, and Identity. Tuscon: University of Arizona Press. Lavé, J. and Wenger, E. (1991). Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press. Robson, J. (1998). ‘Ministry or profession: Clergy doubletalk.’ In M. Furley (ed.), Mirror to the Christian Church: Reflections on Sexism. London: SPCK, pp. 106–23. van Langehove, L. and Harré, R. (1999). ‘Introducing positioning theory.’ In R. Harré and L. van Langenhove (eds), Positioning Theory. Oxford: Blackwell, pp. 14–31. Walsh, C. (2001). Gender and Discourse: Language and Power in Politics, the Church and Organizations. London: Pearson.

5 From Bridegroom of the Soul to Brand-as-Friend: Metaphorical Relationships in Religious and Marketing Discourses1 Veronika Koller

Analogies are ideally suited to draw attention and spark interest in learning. They are like a sweet sugar and pleasant spice that make a dish delicious and increase the appetite. (Neumeister, 1722, ll. th. 307)2 Speaking about the family of tropes known as parable, analogy, simile, and metaphor, Neumeister elaborates on their virtues of explaining difficult matters, training the mind and sparking the reader’s or listener’s interest. The fact that he uses a range of metaphors and similes himself only proves his point. His claims anticipate much of what was written in later centuries about the didactic functions of metaphor (Cameron, 2003; Ortony, 1975), and it is this affordance of metaphor to explicate that makes it useful in religious texts. After all, such texts seek either to communicate personal religious experience to others in an intelligible manner, with genres including poems and hymns, or to teach a sanctioned understanding of the divine, in genres such as tracts or sermons. In addition to its didactic function, however, metaphor also serves as a persuasion device, ideally convincing its recipients of the truth value or at least common sense of a proposition expressed in metaphoric terms. This function is afforded by the cognitive nature of metaphor. 104

Metaphor in Religious and Marketing Discourses 105

Metaphor, religion and marketing Cognitive metaphor theory (see, for example, Barcelona, 2000; Lakoff and Johnson, 1999, 2003) posits that metaphor, rather than being a merely decorative literary device, is essentially a cognitive phenomenon structuring much of human thought. In particular, metaphor is the means by which the human mind conceives of one, usually abstract, entity in terms of another, usually a more concrete one. For example, Christian writers have conceptualized the highly abstract notion of divinity as a natural phenomenon (for example, GOD AS SUN) or even as a human being (for example, GOD AS SHEPHERD).3 The processes by which these metaphorically structured mental models are brought about have been theorized as mappings from a source to a target domain, or as blends of the two (Fauconnier and Turner, 2002). It is only in a second step that these models are realized at the surface level of language, or any other semiotic mode. Metaphoric expressions derived from the above examples would for instance be the following (see below for quotation conventions): (1) Ein ander Sonne, mein Jesus, meine Wonne, gar hell in meinem Herzen scheint. Another sun, my Jesus, my joy, shines brightly in my heart.4 (Paul Gerhardt, Nun ruhen alle Wälder) (2) Denn sucht der Höllenwolf gleich einzudringen, die Schafe zu verschlingen, so hält ihm dieser Hirt doch seinen Rachen zu. Should the hell wolf seek to crash in and devour the sheep, this shepherd will clench its jaws shut. (unknown author, before 1725, BWV 85)5 Conceptual metaphors structure mental models, often very basic, ‘primary’ ones acquired early in life (Grady, 1997). Particular models will be especially relevant in a given discourse, here defined as the total of texts produced, distributed and received between members of a particular social field, for example a faith community. Subsequently, the metaphoric expressions deriving from metaphoric models become typical of that discourse, indeed often seeming the most ‘natural’ way of expressing a particular idea. Repeated exposure to the same set of


metaphoric expressions, extended and elaborated as they may be in language, regularly activates the metaphoric mental model underlying them and thereby reinforces it. Drawing on particular metaphors that are ingrained enough to be perceived as common sense can therefore serve persuasive ends. Marketing as the quintessentially persuasive practice also utilizes metaphor to a great extent. Branding, in particular, seeks to personalize product and corporate brands by endowing them with a metaphorical personality. In the saturated markets of the developed world, it is intangible brands rather than tangible products that are among a company’s most valuable assets, up to the point where products are merely ‘the material extension of a brand’ (Askegaard, 2006, p. 100). Customer relationship management intends to raise brand awareness and create brand loyalty by instilling the mental models associated with the brand in the target consumer’s mind (Moore, 2003, p. 335). Again, many of these models are metaphoric in nature, mapping features from the less abstract domain of relationships between humans (family, friendship, romance) to the more abstract one of the relationship between humans and brands. This is reminiscent of how the divine is modeled and made intelligible in religious discourse and thus provides a central link between religion and marketing.

Alignment of religious and marketing discourses The sectors of religion and business are related in a two-directional way, with business both appropriating and colonizing religion. This section will illustrate this direct relationship between the two sectors with anecdotal examples, and then proceed to make a case for a triangular model in which business and religion are also indirectly related by means of the metaphorical relationships that have become typical features of their discourses. Taking a broad historical perspective, the gradual replacement of religion by science in Westernized cultures has led to a spiritual void that was first filled by politics, in particular the imagined community of the nation-state (Anderson, 1983, p. 19). Throughout the nineteenth century, the nation became a leading paradigm by providing individuals – conceived as citizens – with the conceptual schemata to make sense of their social and individual life. With the demise of the


nation-state in the wake of globalization, that meaning-making role was taken over by capitalism. Stereotypically seen as rational, factual, and hence anything but spiritual, capitalism has morphed into socalled late (or ‘new’) capitalism, with its elites attempting to endow practices of consumption and employment with additional emotional and even spiritual meaning. Such redefinitions of economic relations can be observed in phenomena such as ‘emotional branding’ (Gobe, 2001) and ‘corporate religion’ (Kunde, 2000), which are effected through texts and material practices. Marketing, and branding in particular, plays a central role in this process. Indeed, the notion that brands take on spiritual meaning and foster quasi-religious forms of interaction with them has become almost a commonplace in contemporary branding theory: ‘Brands take on religious dimensions, something which today is a deliberate part of corporate communication’ (Askegaard, 2006, p. 96; see also Bergvall, 2006, p. 195; Olins, 2000, p. 63). A convincing argument about the succession of religion, politics, and business as leading paradigms in Westernized societies has been made by Koch (2001). In cognitive semantic terms, the three paradigms form a three-way metaphor in that any of them can serve as a source domain for one of the others. However, the focus of this chapter is on the links and similarities between religion and the corporate sector and politics will therefore be disregarded. Table 5.1 adapts the complex taxonomy set up by Koch to make his point: Table 5.1 Aspects of religion and business as leading paradigms (based on Koch, 2001) Religion

Business

art form

altar piece, church building, mass

advertising, film, pop music

building

cathedral

shopping mall, corporate headquarters

community

congregation

brand, corporation

ethics

Christian morality

economic independence

generalized philosophical God-given reality code

profit maximization

genesis

branding

creation

Continued


Table 5.1

Continued Religion

Business

idea of human being

God’s creation, believer

consumer, employee

institution

Church

corporation

metaphorical relationships

Jesus as bridegroom of the soul, God as father and friend

brand as parent, lover and friend

metaphysics

God

corporation

power abuse

dogmatism

globalization

representatives

clergy

executives

theoretical foundation

theology

business administration, especially marketing (psychology, anthropology etc.)

ultimate goal

heaven

wealth (individual and corporate)

At the level of language, this paradigm shift leads to corporate discourse integrating features of religious discourse. From a critical perspective, it can be argued that discourse participants introduce lexis originating in religious discourse; that is, draw on a previous meaningmaking system, in order to legitimize business as the new leading paradigm. This development can be traced in the quantitative and qualitative analysis of corporate discourses appropriating religious terminology; for example mission statement, corporate credo, efficiency jihad (see Koller, forthcoming b, for analysis and discussion). While obviously not each and every instance of these terms is a conscious act of appropriation, it is still worth asking why religious lexis was introduced into the language of business in the first place and how it could come to play such a central role that some of the more formulaic phrases have even achieved the status of technical terms. A particularly interesting site of corporate discourse incorporating religious discourse is marketing, especially the religious metaphors found in advertising. For instance, Vonage, a phone company, draws heavily on the experience and language of evangelical Christians, asking its prospects ‘Have you seen the light? Are you weeping with joy? Are you ready to convert?’ and claims that ‘The answer to your


prayers has finally arrived!’ On their website (www.vonageishere.co. uk, all websites accessed 19 August 2006), the transcendental is signified by a sunset. A similar strategy of conveying humor through incongruity can be seen in the tongue-in-cheek use of religious language and iconography employed by TV channel SkyOne, which ran an advertisement in seven parts in a British Sunday newspaper (The Observer, 16 July 2006) for a show titled Sunday Service and hosted by the appropriately named Christian O’Connell. The series of ads not only mimicked stained-glass windows and the typography of medieval bibles in its visuals but also drew intertextually on biblical passages like Genesis (‘In the beginning there was the telly and the remote’ etc.). Given the emotional power of faith, it is no surprise to find that such metaphors are sometimes combined with those of romance: Recruitment consultants Office Angels promise their clients ‘a match made in heaven’, with visuals including a halo in the logo and a cloud to illustrate heaven (www. office-angels.com). If corporate discourse appropriates its religious predecessor, the marketization of ever larger sectors of society vice versa leads to features of corporate discourse colonizing religious discourse (see Fairclough, 2003). Thus, we find churches renting out buildings for advertising, employing PR experts for their communications, and generally redefining themselves as service providers and business organizations. Similarly, priests have taken up additional careers in corporate consulting (Mautner, 2006), and evangelical pastors in particular have become avid (if not always successful) salespeople and entrepreneurs. The boundaries between religion and marketing thus become blurred from both sides: Not only do religious organizations seek to become more business-like, but corporations equally aim to appropriate religious terminology to endow brands with emotional and spiritual meaning, leading to consumption as a quasi-religious practice (deChant 2002). Extending this two-way model to a triangular one, metaphors provide a prominent link between religious and corporate, specifically marketing, discourses: A comparison between the two shows that both conceptualize the relationship between an intangible entity (God, brand) and humans (believers, consumers) by metaphorically drawing on familial, friendship, and romantic relationships between humans. As leading paradigms at different points in history, both social spheres thus bring about discourses that are characterized by similar metaphors. As will be shown in the following two sections,


these metaphors address the universal emotional needs of being loved, guided, and protected.

Metaphorical relationships in religious discourse: protestant hymns The particular genre of Christian religious discourse investigated for its metaphors here is German Protestant (more specifically: Lutheran) poetry of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Many of these religious poems were later set to music, with the often well-known and popular hymns being sung not only in church services and schools, but also appearing in other musical contexts such as Bach’s cantatas and oratorios. Personally, my choice was determined by my familiarity with the genre, which played a central role in my religious upbringing and musical activities until the age of 20. Historically, a focus on this particular context makes sense because seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Protestantism promoted the personal, unmediated bond between God and humans, which led to God being humanized to reduce the distance between him and the faithful (Türck, 1943, pp. 22–3). In addition, religious poetry at the time was influenced by the Baroque fashion of bridal mysticism, which, fed by ecstatic personal devotion and courtly love poetry, conceived of the human soul as feminine in the face of a male God (Türck, 1943, pp. 30–1). Although contemporary Christian discourses equally show an anthropomorphic concept of God as well as expressions of bridal mysticism (Curtis and Eldridge, 1998; see also Mooney, 2005), texts from the period under investigation also promise a range of metaphors that conceptualize the divine-human relationship, and do so in rather anthropomorphic terms. The specific texts analyzed were (see also Works cited): ●

●

●

●

a selection of 42 out of the 130 hymns of Paul Gerhardt (1607–1676); these are quoted with their titles or first lines; the texts to Bach’s (1685–1750) 200 sacred cantatas, as well as his St Matthew’s Passion and the Christmas Oratorio; quoted with the name of the author as well as the respective number in the catalogue of Bach’s works (BWV); selected religious poems of the Baroque period, quoted by author and year; the sermons of Erdmann Neumeister, reverend at St Jacob in Hamburg (1722); while the historical and denominational background are the


same as for the other data sets, the argumentative aspect of this genre helps to shed light on the reasoning at work in some metaphors. Many metaphors observed in the above texts can be traced back to biblical usage, ensuring their validity in religious discourse, while the popular nature of the hymns guaranteed their longevity. In this study, the metaphors were analyzed for their explicitly or implicitly gendered nature. Examples include the notion of GOD AS FATHER compared to the more implicit maternal image of GOD AS (MOTHER) HEN, or the explicitly gendered metaphor of GOD AS GENERAL compared to more implicit metaphors from the culturally masculine field of the military, such as GOD AS FORTRESS. A second dimension is the transactive or interactive relationship between God/Jesus and humans; that is, God/Jesus acting upon a passive humanity or a twoway relation in which God/Jesus and humans act upon each other. The findings were modified by looking at whether the relevant metaphoric expressions were embedded in declarative (statements), interrogative (questions) or imperative (requests) sentence types. Figure 5.1 provides a systematic overview of the main metaphors used to conceptualize the relationship between humans and God/Jesus: Starting with the top-left quadrant, we find God metaphorized in

explicitly gendered

implicitly gendered

God as: king, general; father, mother human soul as: subject, subordinate; child God as: water, (sun-)light, seed; fire/flame; hen, eagle; guardian, shield, fortress human soul as: soil, plant; flammable material; chicken; protectee

God as: friend; lover, bridegroom; dancing partner human soul as: friend; beloved; dancing partner

God as: penetrating force human soul as: receptacle, cavity

transactive

Figure 5.1

Metaphors of the divine–human relationship

interactive


explicitly gendered terms and as acting upon passive humans. This metaphor category partly draws on socially powerful positions traditionally reserved for men; thus we find the metaphors of GOD AS RULER/KING and, related to that, GENERAL: (3) Himmelskönig, sei willkommen, lass uns auch dein Zion sein. King of heavens, we welcome thee, let us be your Zion too. (Salomo Franck, before 1714, BWV 182) (4) Bist du doch nicht Regente, der alles führen soll; Gott sitzt im Regimente und führet alles wohl. For you are not the ruler who shall lead us all; God is in his regiment and knows how to lead us best. (Paul Gerhardt, Befiehl du deine Wege) Here, God’s superiority is framed in political and military terms, with additional metaphors being transferred from those fields. Thus, the time-honored and influential metaphor of the head of state is echoed in Christ in particular being depicted as the head and humans as the subordinate limbs. Although pre-dating Christianity, use of this metaphor in a Christian context can be assumed to have reinforced the metaphor’s use in political discourse in a cyclical fashion. The relevant metaphoric expressions show God in a position of higher power and as acting upon humans as their ruler. Grammatically, this is conveyed in material processes in which actions impact upon their targets (see Halliday and Matthiessen 2004 for a categorization of process types). Among the explicitly gendered metaphors that see God as acting upon humans, we also find the notion of GOD AS FATHER. As Beattie (2003, pp. 157–8) points out: [t]he idea of God as a father figure modeled along the lines of patriarchal authority came to prominence … after the conversion of Rome [under the reign of Constantine, 306–337], when the social and sexual hierarchies of the ancient world began to pervade Christian ideas and institutions. Given this social context, the metaphor found widespread acceptance and can indeed be regarded as prototypical. While examples are


too numerous to list, it is of particular interest to see what notions of fatherhood the metaphor entails. Interestingly, Lutheran hymns of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries see God as the loving and protecting rather than the strict and punishing father: (5) So wird mich Gott ganz väterlich in seinen Armen halten: drum lass ich ihn nur walten. God will hold me in his arms like a father: that’s why I give it all up to him. (Samuel Rodigast, 1674, BWV 12) (6) Wie sich ein Vater erbarmet über seine Kindlein klein, so tut der Herrr uns Armen, so wir ihn kindlich fürchten rein. Just like a father takes mercy on his small children, so the Lord will do unto us if we fear him with a child’s purity. (unknown author, before 1726, BWV 17) In anthropomorphic terms, it is God’s arms and embrace which are central to this parental image. The embrace often involves another body part, the ambiguous Schoß, as in the collocation Arm und Schoß. In present-day German, the word is used in the sense of ‘lap’, but historically, it had the predominant meaning of ‘womb’. (In Luther’s translation of the Bible, Song of Solomon 7:3 even features the term as a euphemism for ‘vulva’.) Although the meaning of ‘womb’ may give rise to an abstract usage in which the word Schoß comes to denote a secondary metaphor ‘innermost core’, the expression’s source domain is clearly the female body, thus feminizing and maternalizing the otherwise male God: (7) Er kommt aus seines Vaters Schoß und wird ein Kindlein klein. He comes out of his father’s womb and becomes a little child. (Nikolaus Hermann, 1554) Example (7) dates back to even the sixteenth century, showing the long history of the idea that ‘the Father both begets and gives birth’ (McFague, 1982, p. 173). In fact, the doctrine of Jesus being born out of God’s womb can be traced back to the Council of Toledo in 675


(Hampson, 1990, p. 93). Feminist theologians have pointed out how such an ‘augmentation of what it is to be considered male’ constitutes an appropriation of the female, with patriarchal Christianity rendering women superfluous even in their function of giving birth (Hampson, 1990, p. 95). Although God is not referred to as a mother in the bible (Hampson, 1990, p. 93), maternal imagery is occasionally used in the texts under investigation: (8) Denn wie von treuen Müttern in schweren Ungewittern die Kindlein hier auf Erden mit Fleiß bewahret werden: Also auch nichts minder läßt Gott ihm seine Kinder, wenn Not und Trübsal blitzen, in seinem Schoße sitzen. Just as little children are carefully shielded from storms by their mothers on earth, so God lets his children sit in his lap during hard times and misery. (Paul Gerhardt, Neujahrs-Gesang) Paternal and maternal metaphors are often juxtaposed, and it is interesting to see how such juxtaposition allocates nurturing, as a stereotypically feminine characteristic, to God as mother: (9) Mit Mutterhänden leitet er die Seinen stetig hin und her … Der Schöpfer selbst, [er] neiget die Vateraugen denen zu, die sonsten nirgends finden Ruh. With a mother’s hands he guides those who are his … The Creator himself, [he] turns his father’s eyes on those who cannot find peace elsewhere. (Johann Jakob Schütz, 1673, BWV 117) The mother’s hand, standing metonymically for her caress, is clearly more directly tender than the father’s eyes; that is, his gaze, which appears more distant and judgmental. This contrast reflects paternal and maternal roles within the patriarchal family. Paul Gerhardt at least also speaks of God as the punishing father: (10) Seine Strafen, seine Schläge, ob sie mir gleich bitter seind, dennoch, wenn ichs recht erwäge, sind es Zeichen, daß mein Freund,


der mich liebet, mein gedenke, [mich] durch das Kreuze zu ihm lenke. Although his punishments and beatings are bitter to me, if I weigh them in the balance, they are signs that the friend who loves me thinks of me … leading me to himself through the Cross. (Paul Gerhardt, Sollt ich meinem Gott nicht singen?) Further, we can see father and mother metaphors for God, when juxtaposed, as instances of what Lakoff (2002) has identified as the STRICT FATHER versus the NURTURING PARENT model.6 We also find the aspects of shelter, safety and nurturance expressed by writers who intertextually draw on Luke 13:34 by referring to God or Jesus as a (mother) hen: (11) Breit aus die Flügel beide, o Jesu meine Freude, und nimm dein Küchlein ein! Spread both thy wings, oh Jesus my joy, and gather thy fledglings! (Paul Gerhardt, Nun ruhen alle Wälder) Sometimes, reference is made to God’s wings alone, but occasionally we also find the mother hen being replaced with the rather more masculine, if equally protective, eagle: (12) Wie ein Adler sein Gefieder über seine Jungen streckt, also hat auch hin und wieder mich des Höchsten Arm bedeckt. Just as an eagle spreads his wings over his offspring, so the Highest has occasionally covered me with his arm. (Paul Gerhardt, Sollt ich meinem Gott nicht singen?) The idea of shelter and protection is also at the heart of the metaphor of GOD AS SHEPHERD, instances of which abound in the texts: (13) Er sammelt [die Frommen] als seine Schafe, als seine Küchlein liebreich ein. He lovingly gathers [the faithful] as his sheep, his fledglings. (unknown author, before 1723, BWV 46)


Gendered, transactive metaphors then depict God mostly as a male figure of authority who provides love, safety, and guidance. Paternal metaphors see God as caring rather than punishing, but take on a more distanced air when contrasted with the occasional maternal metaphor. In quantitative terms, this part of the data reflects what Jantzen has observed for the Old and New Testaments, which present God in overwhelmingly masculine terms, as Lord, King, Father, Judge, Mighty Warrior, and so on. There are indeed a few places in which the divine is portrayed in female (usually maternal) imagery; but they are rare and marginal in comparison with the hundreds of references to the divine in masculine terms. (1998, p. 181) While some ‘feminist theologians contend that male metaphors for God reinforce androcentrism, subordinate women to men, make women invisible or unimportant, and silence them’ (Britto, 2005, p. 31), others have claimed that by ‘understanding the fatherhood of God in terms of qualities … more commonly associated with maternal stereotypes, it becomes a judgment against men who use the paternal role to justify the abuse of power’ (Beattie, 2003, pp. 158–9). In any case, the metaphoric expressions looked at so far all see God as a powerful, gendered force acting upon passive humans. However, metaphors can be interactive as well. The metaphor that constructs God/Jesus as the lover and bridegroom of the human heart/mind/soul (top-right quadrant in Figure 1) has its roots in the intensely erotic Song of Solomon, which the sex-negative Church Fathers were at great pains to metaphorize and abstract from. Hence, the sexual relationship became reinterpreted as the spiritual love between Jesus and, alternatively, the human soul, the Church or Zion. The texts under investigation draw upon, and intertextually integrate quotations from, the Song of Solomon thus reinterpreted: (14) Gleichwie es eine Braut entzücket, wenn sie den Bräutigam erblicket, so folgt ein Herz auch Jesu nach. Just as a bride is delighted to set sights upon the bridegroom, so a heart will follow Jesus. (Christian Friedrich Henrici [Picander], 1731, BWV 36)


(15) Ach! Nun ist mein Jesus hin! Wo ist denn dein Freund hingegangen, o du Schönste unter den Weibern? Oh! Now my Jesus has gone! Where hast thy friend gone, oh thou the most beautiful among women? (Christian Friedrich Henrici [Picander], 1729, BWV 244) In musical terms, Bach’s cantatas BWV 21, 32, 49, 57, 140, 145, 152 and 172 all include duets the words of which are based on the Song of Solomon, and in which the part of the soul is sung by a soprano voice, while Jesus is sung by a bass.7 It is noteworthy that it is Jesus rather than God who is conceptualized as the lover and bridegroom, or, related to that, as a dancing partner: (16) Nimm mein Herz, o mein höchstes Gut, und leg es hin wo dein Herz ruht, da ists wohl aufgehoben. Da gehts mit dir gleich als zum Tanz. Take my heart, oh highest treasure, and put it where thy own heart is, it will be safe there. It will be like dancing with thee then. (Paul Gerhardt, O Herz des Königs aller Welt) Jesus’s dual nature as both human and divine may make it easier to conceive of him as a lover. Thus, while God as father is anthropomorphized by metaphoric expressions denoting his arms and embrace, Jesus as lover is depicted in even more physical terms, with particular attention given to his mouth and kisses: (17) So mich Jesus liebet, ist mir aller Schmerz über Honig süße, tausend Zuckerküsse drücket er ans Herz. If only Jesus loves me, all pain is sweeter to me than honey, a thousand sugar kisses he presses on my heart. (Heinrich Müller, 1659, BWV 87)8 The bride is described in physical terms as well: (18) Bereite dich, Zion, mit zärtlichen Trieben, den Schönsten, den Liebsten bald bei dir zu sehn! Deine Wangen müssen heut viel schöner prangen.


Prepare thyself, Zion, with tender affection, to soon welcome the fairest, the dearest! Your cheeks must flush with even more beauty today. (Christian Friedrich Henrici [Picander]?, 1734/35, BWV 248) The metaphors are explicitly gendered, with the speaker taking the female part vis-à-vis Jesus. It has been noted that although the expression of divine-human intimacy is couched in the language of male-female complementarity, it is males, not females, who enter in to the convenantal marriage with the deity … the dilemma of homoerotic desire [that] is … posed for Christian men in relation to a male Christ’s body … is avoided by speaking collectively of the Christian community as a woman. (Frankenberry, 2004, p. 15)9 One cannot help thinking though that the erotic tones in which male poets address Jesus serve as an outlet for repressed desires (Jantzen, 2004, p. 33). This becomes even more obvious in metaphors that abstract from the relationship between heterosexual lovers; that is, in implicitly gendered interactive metaphors (the bottom-right quadrant in Figure 5.1). These conceptualize the human heart/mind/soul as a receptacle – referred to as a house, room, temple, or hut – to be filled by God’s love:10 (19) Komm doch in die Herzenshütten, sind sie gleich gering und klein, komm und lass dich doch erbitten, komm und ziehe bei uns ein! Won’t you come into our hearts’ huts, even if they’re low and small, come and let our prayers move you, come and move into us all! (Salomo Franck, before 1714, BWV 172) The idea of the receptacle waiting to be filled by God’s love is reminiscent of Plato’s notion of the chora as: a receptacle, a space, though it is not a stable or unchanging space, but mobile and amorphous … [Plato] links this mobile space with nourishing and with the maternal, and sees it as disordered and without unity … Only when the deity intervenes like a father


impregnating this formless receptacle can ordered forms be produced, as it were the children of the god. (Jantzen, 1998, p. 195; see also Kristeva, 1980). The gendered mental models at work become even clearer in a variation on this spatial metaphor, in which the human heart/mind/soul is conceived as a deep cavity into which God lowers himself. Penetration by God’s love is met with active encompassing, so that God and humans become one in a mystic union (unio mystica). The metaphor is thus both implicitly gendered as well as interactive: (20) Mund und Herze steht dir offen, Höchster, senke dich hinein! Ich in dich und du in mich. Mouth and heart are open for thee, Highest, lower thyself into them! Me in thee and thou in me. (Christian Friedrich Henrici [Picander], before 1723, BWV 148) (21) O daß mein Sinn ein Abgrund wär und meine Seel ein weites Meer, daß ich dich möchte fassen! Oh that my mind were an abyss and that my soul were the wide sea so that I could enfold thee! (Paul Gerhardt, Ich steh an deiner Krippen hier) The erotic overtones of this metaphor are related to the writings of medieval woman mystics, who experienced ‘God as the ultimate sexual other and the perfect lover, before whose gaze a woman experiences a profoundly erotic calling to discover herself’ (Beattie, 2003, p. 56). Interestingly, the male writers of the texts analyzed have taken on this female role, feminizing themselves before a God conceived as male. The idea of the human heart/mind/soul as passively waiting to be penetrated and filled by God’s love also shows in a host of implicitly gendered metaphors that construct God as acting upon humans (the bottom-left quadrant of Figure 1). Thus, God is conceived as a flame burning, even incinerating the human heart/mind/soul: (22) Laß deine Flamm und starke Glut durch all mein Herze, Geist und Mut mit allen Kräften dringen.


Let thy flame and strong heat pierce my heart, mind and soul with all its might. (Paul Gerhardt, O Herz des Königs aller Welt) (23) O Flamme der Liebe, zerschmelze du mich! Oh flame of love, make me melt! (Salomo Franck, 1715, BWV 185) The idea here seems to be that of a purgatory that cleanses the soul, safe for the fire causing love instead of pain. A related image to God forcefully acting upon humans can be found in the metaphors of God as light, water and seed that fertilize the human soul and let it grow: (24) O Sonne, die das werte Licht des Glaubens in mir zugericht’t, wie schön sind deine Strahlen! Oh sun that has brought the precious light of faith to me, how beautiful are thy rays! (Paul Gerhardt, Ich steh an deiner Krippen hier) (25) Hilf mir und segne meinen Geist mit Segen, der vom Himmel fleußt, daß ich dir stetig blühe! Help me and bless my mind with blessings that flow from heaven, so that I may always blossom for thee! (Paul Gerhadt, Geh aus mein Herz und suche Freud) (26) Mein Gott, hier wird mein Herze sein: Ich öffne dir’s in Jesu Namen; so streue deinen Samen als in ein gutes Land hinein. My God, my heart will be here: I open it up for thee in the name of Jesus; sow thy seed into it as into good soil. (Erdmann Neumeister, before 1713, BWV 18) The explicitly gendered transactive metaphors of Examples (3) to (10) mostly represented statements. In most of the above examples, by contrast, the speaker explicitly asks for God’s actions to be performed upon them. Grammatically, this is achieved by combining appellations with imperatives, as seen in Examples (16) and (19) to (26).


On the one hand, then, humans are portrayed as being passively penetrated and inseminated, a clear legacy of ‘medieval thought, [in which] the masculine was conceptually linked with the mind and with God, while the feminine was associated with the body, the earth, and reproduction’ (Jantzen, 1998, p. 175). On the other hand, however, humans are shown as asking to be acted upon. This combination of imperative and transactive processes finds a blatant realization outside the corpus used in this study, namely in the barely disguised masochism of John Donne’s (1572–1631) Holy Sonnet XIV. This opens with the imperative (27a) Batter my heart, three person’d God and culminates in the paradoxical (27b) Take me to you, imprison me, for I except that you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor chaste, except you ravish me. Even though some metaphors are interactive and even though God is also asked to act upon passive humans, the power asymmetry between divine and human beings is recast as a gender hierarchy in all four metaphor ranges: Just as God is conceived as a male authority figure, albeit a loving and protective one, so human beings are passively filled with his love, with the focus either on God as a penetrating and fertilizing natural force, or on the human heart/mind/ soul as a receptacle and encompassing cavity. Likewise, the relationship between the metaphorical lovers is not one between equals, in that Christ as the bridegroom of the Church is also seen as its head (Neumeister, 1722, ll. th. 635). Although this hierarchy is tempered by love and willingly sought by the (male) speakers in the poems, it has still been used to ‘justify various social and political structures of patriarchy that exalt solitary human patriarchs at the head of pyramids of power’ (Frankenberry, 2004, p. 7). However, the male voice of religious authority at the time rather focused on God’s continued care in the face of human inferiority and unworthiness as proof of a divine love, rejoicing in the belief that God allowed humans to talk to him like children to their father, loving souls to one another and friends to each other (Neumeister, 1722, ll. th. 726). It is the latter metaphor of GOD AS FRIEND that seems most gender-neutral and hence least hierarchical. Arguing that ‘religious


metaphors and the models that emerge from them are not pictures of God but images of a relationship’, patriarchal metaphors have come to be regarded as ‘a serious perversion of Jesus’ understanding of the father model and utterly opposed to the root-metaphor of Christianity, which is against all worldly hierarchies’ (McFague 1982, pp. 166–7). The same author discusses GOD AS FRIEND as a more appropriate metaphor, and indeed it can occasionally be found in the texts: (28) Er liebet alle Frommen, und die ihm gütig seind, die finden, wenn sie kommen, an ihm den besten Freund. He loves all the faithful, and those who are open towards him will, when they come, find their best friend in him. (Paul Gerhardt, Der 146. Psalm) The last example, an adaptation of Psalms 146, deviates from the biblical original in introducing the notion of GOD AS FRIEND. We can thus see the dual nature of Lutheran Protestantism in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries: While ‘in Protestantism more than ever, the super- and sub-ordination between God and creatures, Christ and the Church, is represented by a hierarchical, omnipotent “masculine” God and a passive, self-abnegating “feminine” humanity’ (Ruether, 1975, p. 56), the simultaneous humanization of God in the Baroque period (Türck, 1943, p. 23) diminished the distance between God and humans. In any case, relationship among humans – friendship, family, romance – are used as source domains to metaphorically describe the relationship between God and humans, with the latter taking the less powerful part in hierarchical relationships. (Implicitly gendered metaphors support this model.) In that they derive from biblical usage and have persisted for centuries across religious genres, the metaphors ascertained in the texts under investigation have a strong intertextual component (Soskice, 1985, pp.154–8). The next section will illustrate that metaphors of friendship, family, and romance can also cross discursive boundaries.

Metaphorical relationships in marketing discourse: branding Just as a concept like God cannot be understood unless in metaphoric terms, brands, too, are too intangible and too abstract to be grasped


literally. Although brands are often materialized in concrete objects (products), the increasing importance of corporate brands (Soenen and Moingeon, 2002, pp. 30), that is, mental models of companies, signals a move towards the more abstract. The crucial link between notions of the divine on the one hand and brands on the other resides in the fact that humans – as believers and consumers, respectively – are expected to enter into a relationship with the highly abstract entity.11 To facilitate the formation and maintenance of an emotional attachment to this abstract notion, the relationship in question is modeled on relationships that humans have experienced, and of which their mind has consequently formed models: family, romance, friendship. We could see the respective metaphors at work in metaphoric concepts of God. The following analysis of brand statements and advertisements shows that marketers likewise tap into existing relationship models to make consumers brand-aware and brand-loyal (see Koller, forthcoming a, for further analysis and discussion). The examples represent business-to-business (B2B) marketing, which intends to sell services to corporate clients. Taking place in the realm of the abstract, such marketing provides a rich source for metaphors of brand-consumer relationships. As is the case in religious discourse, the central aspects of the FAMILY metaphor in marketing are care, nurturing, safety and attention for the metaphorical child. Thus, ConocoPhillips, an energy company, claims to ‘build and nurture long-standing, mutually beneficial relationships’ with its customers (http://www.conocophillips.com/about/Purpose⫹ and⫹Values/index.htm), while Aflac, an insurance company, sets store by ‘nurturing and listening to the many voices that comprise our workforce, our communities, our customers, and our business partners’ (http://www.aflac.com/us/en/aboutaflac/MissionAndValues.aspx). The latter company also cites as two of its central values to: ‘treat individuals with care, respect, dignity, and fairness’ and to ‘promote a positive environment, caring culture and team spirit that extends to the community.’ Kuraya Sanseido, a health care company, uses a physical metaphor reminiscent of religious discourse when stating its aim to ‘embrace people with sincerity and caring attitude [sic]’ (http:// www. kurayasanseido.co.jp/company/02.php). Finally, Total, an energy company, makes its branding strategy explicit when referring to itself as ‘a 50-year-old brand whose listening, caring image is a strong asset’ (http://www.total.com/identite/portail/en/index.htm#).


Beyond the purely verbal, advertisements also use topic and layout to centre the viewer, that is, the consumer, as the child that is loved and cared for. An advertisement by oneworld airline illustrates the point, showing two penguins bowing their heads toward a baby penguin standing between them. The picture in the ad is accompanied by the following copy: It’s natural to want to be cared for. oneworld is an alliance of eight airlines, with one goal: To care for our passengers. Whether that’s rewarding your loyalty with frequent flyer miles, giving you access to over 340 lounges or simply being there to look after you. Why? Because oneworld revolves around you. In the picture, the baby penguin is given maximum emphasis by being centered horizontally with the parents at the margins bending their heads, which thus function as vectors that point to their child. Moreover, the baby penguin looks at the viewer directly and thereby functions as a mirror for them. This focus on the customer is reinforced in the copy, which directly addresses the viewer four times (‘you’, ‘your’). Care and attention figure another four times with the customer featuring either implicitly, as in the initial passive phrase (‘to be cared for’), or as the acted-upon entity in phrases like ‘to care for our passengers’. The viewer of the advertisement is obviously meant to identify with the looked-after baby, the centre of attention. Support for the notion of nurturing and caring about the customer is provided by the GARDENING metaphor found in some advertisements, for example by UTA, a phone company. Their advertisement depicts a thirty-something man sitting on his desk in a yet scantily furnished office, pruning a bonsai tree, with the German copy translating as follows: Your growth is only as fast as your Internet connection. With UTA Direct you are directly connected to one of the major private landline operators, providing you with one-stop telephony and Internet services. UTA Direct takes you to the Internet 15 times faster than a traditional ISDN connection. UTA Direct provides a dedicated line that allows for a speed of 1MB/sec in either direction. UTA Direct charges no extra rates for regional calls.


The UTA example renders the basic ORGANISM metaphor more specific by depicting a tree and an office metonymically representing a company, thus yielding COMPANIES ARE TREES. This conceptualization is part of a metaphor scenario (Musolff, 2006) in which the COMPANY AS TREE is tended by the EXECUTIVE/ENTREPRENEUR AS GARDENER. The Internet services provided by the advertiser spur corporate ‘growth’, much as a fertilizer would. The text is metonymic as well, with ‘your growth’ elliptically representing your company’s growth. Although both source (tree) and target (company) are present in the picture, the text still serves to anchor the picture by adding the growth aspect. BNP Paribas, a financial services provider, employs a similar GARDENING metaphor; their advertisement shows farmers working in a field, with a skyline of corporate buildings in the background. However, the seedlings they plant are miniature skyscrapers, which again metonymically stand for office buildings and hence companies. The BNC Paribas advertisement, in particular, is reminiscent of religious discourse, in which God was conceptualized as the sun, water and seed fertilizing the soil of the human mind. In Forceville’s (1996, 2002) terms, we are here dealing with a pictorial metaphor, in which the picture includes both the source domain of the field as well as the target domain of the company, here metonymically represented by office buildings. The two are blended in a single meaningful image, making the example an MP2, a visual metaphor with two pictorially present terms. Both domains are also reinforced verbally, with the copy reading: ‘Grow your business wherever you want. We know the terrain and we know how to work it.’ Both advertisements address corporate clients whose concern is the wellbeing of their company, seen in metaphoric terms as a living organism. The brand-consumer relationship is also modeled on romantic relationships. In B2B advertising, these show less rigid gender roles than the comparable metaphor in religious discourse, in which Jesus was always cast as the male lover of the female soul. Rather, the principle within the ROMANCE metaphor seems to be that the brand is constructed as the gender opposite to that of the target group. (The target audience can be inferred from the nature of the product or service offered, as well as from the ad’s placement in particular publications; for example, business magazines with their overwhelmingly male readership; see Koller, 2004, pp. 44–6). A typical example is the advertisement by Tendi, a software services provider. Shot from a low


angle, the picture shows women in bridal gowns on the left and right who give way to the viewer, who is positioned centrally but outside the picture. The German copy translates as follows: Which is the right one? Software shopping for the undecided. Many mothers have pretty daughters. But which is the right one for you? Tendi.com is software shopping on the Internet. We offer more service, more information, more clarity – and save you from being spoilt for choice fast. Whether you finally consent to marry Adobe, Corel, Lotus, Macromedia, Microsoft, Network Associates, Quark or Symantec will then be your personal decision. And that can be for life. The central perspective, which sets the individual viewer off against a number of brides to choose from, enables the viewer to envisage himself walking up and along the alley to the vanishing point, having his pick from the women left and right. His status is even further elevated by the slight bird’s-eye angle and by the fact that at least four women look at him directly while none of them interact with each other. The advertisement is a rather blatant example of the metaphorically gendered nature of brand–consumer relationships: In view of the fact that the advertisement promotes the services of a software consultant, constructing the consumer as male is likely to reflect the marketer’s main target group. In this respect, the advertisement is a good example of how operating in a buyer’s market affects the (metaphoric) strategies employed to win that buyer. On a more critical note, however, the advertisement is crudely sexist, depicting as it does a large number of women competing to become the object of male choice. Obviously, this construction only works within a heterosexual matrix, assuming the ideal consumer to be male. Viewers outside that target audience can take on a subversive role: As Messaris notes, by ‘giving female viewers a male perspective on the models in the images, these ads are creating visual conditions that can lead to cross-gender identification’ (1997, p. 41). Although the brand is here metaphorized as a bride, it allows for a cross-gender reading not unlike the feminization of the human believer vis-à-vis the male divine lover. However, the consumer can also be constructed as female. An advertisement by investment banking group Morgan Stanley Dean


Witter (MSDW) extends the metaphor to BRAND–CONSUMER RELATIONSHIPS Here, we see children engaged in some formal dance, with one girl-boy couple positioned centrally. The boy directs a frontal gaze at the viewer, while the girl turns her back on her. Moreover, this gaze is coupled with direct address of the viewer (‘shall we dance?’). If we furthermore consider that the text implicitly constructs the corporate client as female (‘for any company, this is absolutely not the time to be a wallflower’), it becomes clear that this particular advertisement conceptualizes the brand as the boy asking the consumer to dance. By constructing the consumer as the courted woman, the advertisement reflects the conviction that ‘the consumer is not a moron. She is your wife’ (quoted in Newman, 1999). The above examples show that the metaphorical romance between brands and consumers allows for more fluid gender roles than religious discourse. Yet, while the consumer can take either gender, gender roles largely remain along the lines of active masculinity and passive femininity. To avoid the risk of triggering the potentially negative connotations of such gender images, as well as the helplessness that could be associated with the PARENT–CHILD metaphor, marketing occasionally opts for the non-familial, non-gendered FRIENDSHIP metaphor. For instance, British Telecom in 2000 launched a campaign under the slogan ‘Brand as friend,’12 which elaborated on the corporate brand as a relationship revolving around the qualities of being responsible, consistent and true. Actions included liking, attending, sharing and staying together. In an illustration of this metaphor, private bank UBS depicts the prototypical customer as the friend of the brand owner: In their slightly surreal advertisement, the foreground is taken up by a man and a woman sitting at either side of a low coffee table, with the man on the right, slightly leaning towards the woman. The background, however, has a central perspective opening up into first an arcade of columns, and then into a tree-lined alley (see Messaris, 1997, p. 232 for the sophistication and prestige conveyed by surrealist imagery in advertising). The domestic setting emphasizes the exclusive focus on the customer, and the text likewise focuses on the generic terms ‘partnership’ and ‘relationship’, as well as listing the semantic components of those models (‘understanding’, ‘trust’, ‘confidence’). Summing up, we can see that some brands are metaphorically represented as a nurturing parent. Given the stereotypically feminine ARE A DANCE.


quality of care and nurturing, it comes as no surprise to see the implicit gender made explicit in some examples. It is often corporate brands, that is, the mental models associated with companies rather than specific products, that are constructed in this manner. The metaphor posits the company as the parent offering love, guidance, and safety in very much the same way that God could be seen doing in the examples from religious discourse. Nevertheless, the BRAND AS PARENT metaphor represents only a partial mapping; the semantic features transferred are very much that of love and nurturance, while guidance and strictness, which could still be found in the religious texts, are backgrounded. This may have to do with progressive ideas of parenthood, but more likely reflects the different power dynamics between brands and consumers (see below). By comparison, especially service brands tend to be constructed as lovers, with the metaphorical gender being the opposite of that of the target group. Gendering is more flexible than in religious discourse, but the heterosexual imperative is still followed. In the relationship-intensive service industries (Kapferer, 2002, p. 178), we also find the metaphor of BRAND AS FRIEND with its egalitarian and gender-neutral aspects. The above similarities between religious and marketing discourses, as well as their significant differences, will be discussed in the final section.

Discussion We find a very similar range of metaphors in both religious and marketing discourses, with family, romance, and friendship acting as source domains to model the relationship between God and believers or brands and consumers, respectively. However, different semantic features of the domains are foregrounded in either case. Thus, the parental metaphor in religious discourse may emphasize the loving and nurturing aspects of God, but religious poets of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries were certainly no strangers to the idea of God as a strict, even punishing father. Similarly, while brands can be either male or female lovers, depending on the target group’s gender, religious discourse is as good as devoid of metaphors conceptualizing Jesus as female. There, the vast power difference between any divine being and humans is mirrored in the metaphor casting humans in the role that is less powerful in patriarchal society; that is, the female role. Seventeenth-century ideas of parenthood and


marriage centered on dominance and obedience, with children and wives being subjected to their fathers or husbands. The metaphors for the divine–human relationship mirror these social and sexual realities – indeed absolutism as the almost unlimited power of kings, fathers, and husbands was justified as reflecting the divine order where an omnipotent God ruled over humanity, most notably in Thomas Hobbes’s Leviathan (1651) and Robert Filmer’s Patriarcha (1679–80). Obviously, such philosophical foundations are very different from modern-day notions of democracy, parenthood, and egalitarian partnerships. Power dynamics are the key to accounting for the differences between the discourses in yet another way: While a post-traditional understanding of humans as involved in their individual ‘projects of the self’ (Elliott and Wattanasuwan, 1998) may recast particular denominations or even religions as ‘lifestyle choices’, faith was in the Baroque period seen as a given. Although people did convert on occasion, this was by no means a step taken lightly, indeed it was one that could mean persecution and forced relocation. By contrast, the buzzword in branding is of course ‘choice’; the very practice of branding is borne out of the necessity to differentiate products and services from a plethora of virtually indistinguishable competitors. In an extension of the ROMANCE metaphor, both companies and consumers are metaphorically constructed as faithless and promiscuous, offering and switching brands without much consideration. Consider the following extract from an article aimed at marketing professionals: Many markets are simply saturated these days. Companies that want to continue to grow can only ogle the customers of others, i.e. steal from the competition. These companies dress up (massive advertising campaign) and give expensive presents (discounts for new customers). They go down on bended knee. Promise the world. … Get the girl! The consequences are clear: Don Juan makes a fool of himself. And the wife kicks him out to have fun elsewhere. (Lotter, 2005, trans. VK) Since there is no moral necessity to be loyal to a particular brand, consumers have to be ‘wooed’ and persuaded. This not only means that negative emotions, evoked for example by parental authority,


have to be avoided in the mental model that is the brand. Moreover, the consumer is also in a position of power vis-à-vis the brand, and thus diametrically opposed to the believer who sees him- or herself as subject to God’s will. It would therefore be a mistake to simplistically equate the preachers and poets of previous centuries to latter-day marketers attempting to sell emotions to their target groups in order to move products and services. While religious institutions have always sought to shore up their own power base by inducing guilt and setting themselves up as the only path to spiritual happiness, Lutheran Protestantism of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries championed personal, unmediated faith and focused on a loving and protective rather than punishing God. Therefore, we should give the writers of the period the benefit of the doubt; while they of course adhered to the conventions of their time by intertextually drawing on biblical metaphors, there is no reason not to regard their works as reflecting genuine religious experience. By contrast, the metaphors for the brand–consumer relationship that are found in marketing discourse complement the metaphoric transfer of religious language to the corporate sector. Both the twoway and the triangular models help to lend spiritual meaning to the corporate sector, and in particular increase the importance that brands have for consumers by elevating them to an emotional and religious level. In fact, marketers now speak of the ‘romance’ between brands and consumers (Harquail, 2006, p. 162) and of the ‘covenant between an organization and its key stakeholders groups’ (Balmer, 2006, p. 39). The metaphoric construction of brands as parents, lovers and friends is perhaps the logical extension of advertisements that promise the prospective customer attractiveness and happiness when they use a particular product. Both strategies exploit unfulfilled needs, but ‘emotional branding’ (Gobe, 2001) no longer just promises that use of a product miraculously brings another person’s love and attention to the customer’s life. Rather, the brand has become the direct source of love, safety, and happiness by being itself constructed as the consumer’s caring parent, irresistible lover, and reliable friend. The immoral nature of such strategic metaphor use lies in the fact that love and attention now have to be bought; while God’s love abounds for everyone who is open to it, a brand’s promise


of love is dependant on the consumer’s disposable income. This limitation of course means that what branding offers is not love at all. Rather, it is a substitute that may fill an emotional void in the short run, but does nothing to enhance human life through the trust, freedom, and serenity that faith affords. To quote Paul Gerhardt one last time: (29) Die ihr arm seid und elende, kommt herbei, füllet frei eures Glaubens Hände! Hier sind alle guten Gaben und das Gold, da ihr sollt euer Herz mit laben. Come you who are poor and miserable, fill your faithful hands for free! Here you will find all the good gifts and the gold to comfort your hearts. (Paul Gerhardt, Fröhlich soll mein Herze springen)

Notes 1. I would like to thank John Heywood and Kate Power for their helpful comments on an earlier version of this paper. 2. The German original reads as follows: ‘Gleichnisse sind überaus bequem, aufmercksam zu machen und lehrbegierig. Sie sind gleich einem lieblichen Zucker und angenehmen Gewürtze dadurch eine Speise wohlschmeckend und der Appetit desto mehr erwecket wird.’ In this and all subsequent examples, the original spelling has been retained. 3. In line with the conventions adhered to in cognitive semantics, conceptual metaphors will be indicated by small capitals while their linguistic realizations are represented by italics. 4. All translations are the author’s. 5. Texts from works by the composer Bach are cited using the catalogue of his works (Bach Werkeverzeichnis or BWV), as indicated in Bischof (no year). 6. Tellingly, Lakoff uses the allegedly gender-neutral term parent to link it to stereotypically feminine characteristics, while retaining the male term father for masculine traits. The goal of feminist language reform to have one gender-neutral term for everyone is thus thwarted, just as in the pair chairman and chairperson, where the latter is used overwhelmingly for women. 7. In BWV 172, a soprano voice sings the part of the soul, while an alto has the part of the Holy Spirit. The fact that the soprano and alto parts would have been sung by boys does not alter the association of high voices with the less powerful positions of youth and femininity. 8. Catholicism, always more given to sensuality and histrionics, has couched this metaphorical relationship in even more starkly erotic terms, focusing on the ‘sweetness in pain and pain in sweetness’ (Friedrich Spee von


Langenfeld, 1649) caused by being penetrated. In the example below, Jesus seems to have been modeled on Cupid: Jesus du mächtiger Liebesgott, nah dich zu mir: Denn ich verschmachte fast biß in Tod für Liebsbegiehr. Ergreiff die Waffen und in Eil, durchstich mein Hertz mit deinem Pfeil, verwunde mich. Jesus you mighty God of love, come close to me, because I languish almost to death with love’s desire. Take up arms and hurry to pierce my heart with your arrow, wound me. (Johannes Scheffler [Angelus Silesius], 1657) Türck (1943, p. 38) has shown how Catholic poetry of the Baroque period imitates orgasmic moaning through interjections, appellations, exclamations, and incomplete sentences. (See also Kurzke, 2001, on erotic poetry addressing the Virgin Mary.) 9. See Eilberg-Schwartz (1994) for a Jewish perspective; de Sondy (forthcoming) for an Islamic perspective. 10. It should be noted that this metaphor is mirrored by one conceptualizing the world as a guest-house in which God is the landlord and humans the guests. The metaphors are sometimes juxtaposed, as in the following example:

so wissen wir, daß die Welt ein grosser Gasthof ist … Aber so ist Gott Herr im Hause und regiert es durch seine Providentz. Sind wir gleich Gäste und Frembdlinge, so bewirthet er uns doch väterlich … Unser Herr Jesus will gern in unserem Hause einkehren. Ich meyne das Hertz. Thus we know that the world is a large guest-house … But God is master of the house and reigns through his providence. Although we are guests and strangers, he still serves us as a father … Our Lord Jesus wishes to come into our house. I mean the heart. (Neumeister, 1722, ll. th. 417) 11. Again, a similar case could be made for the relations between business and politics, or politics and religion. 12. http://www.worldwide.bt.com/brand_as_friend. Accessed 27 May 2000, now defunct.

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6 Being Male and Female in Nigerian Evangelicalism – and Saying Thank You Abolaji Mustapha

Introduction This chapter explores the compliment responses of some Nigerian evangelicals to discern the held beliefs and practiced values that they contain in order to answer the following questions: 1 Which response types constitute an acceptable form of responding to proffered compliments? 2 What does the pattern of compliment responses suggest about religious life and concept of gender? 3 Do women’s pattern of responses align with men’s? Compliments and responses have been studied for what they reveal about social values and norms. For example, Manes’s (1983) study of American English compliments reveals some of the cultural values of her subjects; that is, what is highly valued in American society. In particular, one of her findings is that women’s appearance attracts more compliments. This was interpreted as signifying the ornamental role of women in that society – women are expected to look attractive. Similarly, Herbert (1989) demonstrates how the preferred compliment response types of a speech community may show either their elitist or egalitarian beliefs or practice. In his study of South African compliment responses, he reports that there is a high frequency of acceptance responses. Since acceptance of compliments confirms the import of 136

Being Male and Female in Nigerian Evangelicalism 137

the compliment (compliments frame the status of the recipient higher or enhances that of the complimentee), he interprets this to be a mark of an elitist society. Rejection of, or disagreement with, compliments by American English speakers in his data has been interpreted as an index of their belief in the equality/egalitarianism of all humans, irrespective of their sex, social status, race, ethnicity, and so on. These polarized response types – agreement and rejection – do not imply that responding to compliments is that simple. Many studies show complexities in the speech act of responding to compliments. For example, it has been shown that recipients of compliments are often faced with the problem of resolving conversational conflicts (both agreeing with their complimenters, and avoiding self-praise). On the one hand, to accept/agree with the compliment with an appreciation token (such as ‘thank you’) has been interpreted as nonsolidary because agreement/acceptance does not avoid self-praise, rather it enhances/marks social distance. Agreement response type has also been explained in terms of certain conversational maxims. For example, agreement with one’s conversational partner is said to be desirable because it promotes interactions between dyads – there is cooperation and the complimenter’s need to be accepted or have his/her action approved by others is satisfied. However, acceptance of compliments has been interpreted to show failure to meet the negative-face need of the recipient because acceptance of the verbal gift puts the recipient in debt to return the proffered verbal gift of the complimenter. On the other hand, disagreement/rejection of the compliment rejects praise to self in a way that violates the conversational maxim of cooperation, while at the same time, it meets the need to be modest (modesty maxim of avoiding self-praise). In fact, responding to compliments is complex. Pomerantz states that responders are always between two conflicting constraints which are concurrently relevant but not concurrently satisfiable (1978, p. 81). One of the ways to resolve the conflict of avoiding being immodest and at the same time ensuring the conversational maxim of cooperation is the employment of speech strategies that maintain inbetweenness. Pomerantz (1978) describes this as a ‘self-praise avoidance mechanism.’ Her study of American English compliment responses shows Americans’ preference for this self-praise avoidance mechanism. She also notes that reject responses occur more frequently than accept responses. However, some studies do not support Pomerantz’s


findings, particularly those that found more acceptance/agreements than disagreement/rejections in their data (Golato, 2002; Herbert, 1990; Holmes, 1986). Different speech communities were studied, which could explain the differences in the results. According to Golato (2002), the differences between Pomerantz’s findings and the others can be traced to two major factors: difference in methods of categorization of response types and differences in the method of data collection. This presupposes that similar methods may result in similar findings. However, this may not always be so because compliments and responses have been shown to be culture-specific – how a compliment obtains in one culture might be different from another although similar features may abound. Although Gelato’s study of compliment responses and Holmes’s New Zealand study are from two separate speech communities, their results are similar – more acceptance/agreement than rejection/disagreement responses were found among their subjects. It appears that responding to compliments is a very complex act involving a choice from three available options: (1) accept/agree with the compliment with an appreciation token; (2) reject the praise to self; and (3) maintain in-betweenness. As a result of these conflicts, recipients often resort to the social/religious beliefs and held practices of their community for choosing an appropriate response. Even this does not alleviate the problem of categorization of response types. The literature on compliment responses suggests three broad responses types or categories (sometimes called taxonomies): acceptance/ agreement, disagreement/rejection, and the self-praise avoidance mechanism. However, many schemas available in the literature do not seem to agree – there are varied categorization methods, aside from Golato (2002), which adopt Pomerantz (1978). It is our view that one major reason for the differences in schematization is the failure to identify and distinguish the social actions of the compliment that compliment receivers are reacting to. According to Holmes (1986) many studies on compliment responses fail to identify and distinguish the various social actions in compliments. In another article by this writer, it has been observed that at least three social actions might be identifiable in compliments and that recipients often respond to each. In the following example, B (the recipient of the compliment) questions the sincerity of the positive assessment (‘Do you really mean it?’) and accepts the verbal gift (‘Well, thanks’)


which also accepts the credit to self: A: Uche [a name] your handwriting is very beautiful. B: Do you really mean it? Well, thanks. Based on the assumption that there might be at least three components of the compliment (three social actions that the compliment as a speech act performs) – the supportive, evaluative, and attributive social actions – it is argued that compliment responses might be better analyzed by identifying and distinguishing social actions in any study on compliment responses. This might help to clarify whether it is the supportive actions that the recipients accept more or the evaluative and/or the attributive. A compliment offers a verbal gift (supportive action); it also evaluates the complimentee’s qualities in accordance to what society values (evaluative action); and it attributes credit to the complimentee (attributive action). Holmes (1986) believes that a compliment not only makes a positive assertion, it also attributes credit to the addressee in relation to that assertion. Thus, compliments on addressees’ appearance implicitly give credit to the addressees for achieving a good appearance. She adds that in analyzing and categorizing compliment responses it is important to distinguish the responder’s agreement or disagreement with the positive evaluation or content of the complimenter’s assertion, from their acceptance or rejection of the credit which is implicitly attributed to them as recipients of the compliment (Holmes, 1986, pp. 491–2). In the next example, A’s compliment on B’s performance receives an acceptance of the verbal gift (‘Thank you very much’) and for the credit attributed to B, B shifts the praise/credit to God (‘It’s God-given’). A: You have a nice voice. B: Thank you very much; it’s God given. Thus this study focuses on one social action – responses to the attributive social action of the compliments that were proffered. Recipients indicate acceptance of credit to self in many ways. Some recipients accept explicitly (‘Thanks, God bless you’), while others reduce the credit (‘Sister, thanks, that is not up to that’). Responses that accept the compliment, agree with the assessment and those that


reciprocate/return compliments (‘Thanks, you too look nice’) implicitly accept credit unless it is explicitly refused as in (‘You’re looking fine’/‘I beg with all these my pimples …’). Recipients sometimes avoid accepting and rejecting credit to self. They do this by shifting the credit (‘You’re looking good’/’Thank you; it is the handiwork of my wife’). Rejecting the compliment indicates declining the credit to self. This may be done explicitly (‘Keep your compliment to yourself’). Compliment responses that reject the content of compliments also reject the credit to self.

Data Our data was drawn from a corpus of 1200 compliments/responses from speakers of Nigerian English. Exchanged compliments/responses were noted with field-notes. Aside from the subjects’ compliments/ responses, the dyads’ sex, ethnicity, status, degree of intimacy, and religion were also noted. Some data were also procured from popular Nigerian fiction (Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, Alkali’s The Stillborn, and others). Supplementary interview data was obtained from participants by using open-ended informal interviews. According to Potter such interviews usually provide confirmatory information about self-reported data, increase the researcher’s understanding of native pattern of use, and provide an indication of stylistic effect that could be attributed to individual informants (1995, p. 121). Out of the 1200 compliments/responses, we found that 193 were from evangelicals (dyads who call themselves believers, church members, Christian friends, and so on).

Analysis Three main response types are described using a quantitative method of analysis. The schema used for this study is believed to be a reflection of what we found in the data since the data should determine the taxonomy. Adapting the schema of other studies might be very helpful. Thus, we used Schema 1. The question posed by the study was: What is the preferred response type among compliment recipients? Table 6.1 shows that acceptance (at 52 percent) is the preferred response. Shifting praise to God is second, while rejection is the least


Schema 6.1

Compliment responses of Nigerian evangelicals

Response types

Example

Acceptance

Thank you, God bless you! Thank you for the encouragement.

Shift praise/Credit to God

Really? I give thanks to God. Thank God for everything!

Reject

Mm … the bag – that’s so old. You’ve not seen the other side of me.

Table 6.1

Distribution of response types of recipients

Response types

Frequency

Percentage

Acceptance

100

52

Shift praise to God

56

29

Reject

37

19

Total

193

100

preferred. It is interesting that shift credit responses number more than half of the number of acceptance responses. This suggests that when recipients do not accept praise to self, the next preferred response is to shift praise to God. The next question we asked was: Does the pattern differ between women and men? Tables 6.2 and 6.3 illustrate our findings. Table 6.2 and Table 6.3 show that women’s shift-praise response type (36 percent of their responses) compares favorably with that of men (36 percent). However, in their acceptance response type, the ratio of women’s accept and shift credit to God (2:5) differs from that of men (2:3). In other words, men shift credit to God more frequently in their responses than do women.

Findings and discussion According to our data, Nigerian evangelicals’ responses favor acceptance the most in their attribution of credit to the self component of the compliment. Their second preferred response type is to shift praise to God. Lastly, men shift praise to God more than women, while women accept praise to self more than men do.


Table 6.2

Women’s compliment response types Responses to men’s compliments (M–F)

Women’s responses to fellow women’s compliments (F–F)

Accept Shift credit to God Reject

20 16

53 13

6

13

19

16

Total

42

79

121

100

Men’s responses to fellow men’s compliments (M–M)

Total

Percentage (%)

20 13

27 29

Women’s responses

Table 6.3

Total

Percentage (%)

73 29

60 24

Men’s compliment response types

Responses to women’s compliments Men’s responses (F–M) Accept Shift credit to God Reject

7 16

36 24

6

13

19

16

Total

42

79

121

100

The fact that acceptance takes first place of in our subjects’ responses suggests that these subjects are more concerned with ‘self’ or with the speech strategy that most enhances their status above others (their complimenters) thereby violating the maxim of modesty. This does not portray adherence to the ideals of the Christian faith, especially among brethren ‘where there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither Greek nor barbarian … .’ However, we are aware that their complimenters were both believers and non-believers. A study that concentrates on their community (where both complimenters and complimentees are believers) might be needed to determine which response type is most favored among them. It is noteworthy that aside from Pomerantz’s (1978) study, compliment acceptance dominates the responses within English-speaking communities (66 percent for Americans, 88 percent for South Africans, 61 percent for New Zealanders (Farghal and Al-Khatib, 2001). Thus, the overwhelming


finding in most studies, including Nigerian English speakers (Mustapha, 2004), lends support to the claim that acceptance seems universally popular (Miles, 1994, p. 104). For example, Herbert (1989) shows that acceptance accounts for fully 76 percent of South African data, as compared to 32 percent in the American corpus. According to Herbert, fewer non-acceptance responses among Americans might be an indication of their value for democracy and human equality, whereas South African results point to the nature of an elitist society. This might be the case among our subjects (Nigerians). Although there is no white dominance of the blacks as in South Africa, it is a society where the rich, the educated, upper classes and royalty are segregated from the others – they dominate those outside their circle. This difference is often enacted in situations where the highly placed remind the lowly of their subordinate position with expressions such as, ‘Do you know the person you’re talking to?’ In sum, the preference for the acceptance response type suggests that our subjects place less value on the equality of humans. Although the acceptance response type ranks first, the second most used response is to shift praise to God. This might be what many members of the Nigerian evangelical speech community consider to be the form that constitutes an acceptable response to the self-praise that the compliment proffers to the recipient. It has been observed earlier that this response type adheres to the maxim of modesty in compliment responses since it avoids credit to self. Christians believe that all praise should go to God for every good thing in their lives and of course one of the attributes of love (charity) is that it does not puff up nor does it seek its own (I Corinthians 13). In addition, the use of religious expressions also suggests the use of religious language in everyday conversation. The language of religion has long been established as a province on its own with its registers. And there are common linguistic features that mark the province. Webster says that religious communities are set apart linguistically, not only in terms of lexicon-semantic features, but also by other features belonging to the stylistic dimension of religious language (1998, p. 94). Amongst its features is the term ‘God’ which has been described as a major and an interesting centre of focus in all religious texts and that from it all lexical items can ultimately be inferred (Crystal and Davy, 1969, p. 165). They further state that regardless of the purpose of the religious language being examined (whether it is a


statement of belief or a prayer or praise or supplication), it is the case that the meaning of the whole derives from, and can be determined only by reference to, this concept of God. This semantic dependence is always made quite explicit at or near the beginning of the religious utterance. In the responses of our subjects, the term ‘God’ occurs frequently, especially in their shift praise to God response type. Another linguistic feature is the use of theological phrases and terms, which we also found in their responses. The presence of these terms has led to the claim that any religious text is bound to display a number of theological terms, the equivalent of the specialist terminology of science, which provide the verbal basis for the formulation of a person’s belief. Phrases/terms such as ‘God’s glory,’ ‘the grace of God,’ ‘pray,’ ‘bless,’ ‘glory,’ ‘kingdom,’ and so on, are examples of theological terms. Thus, the vocabulary of a religious text is largely distinctive and any analysis will yield several of these kinds. We found biblical phrases and terms in our data (for example, God as in ‘Thank God’/‘God bless you’/‘I give thanks to God’/‘God helped me’/‘Thank you, it is God’s grace’). A further analysis of our data reveals more biblical expressions (‘It’s the Lord’s doing’/‘Thank God,’ and others). These responses may be classified as religious utterances although compliments/responses might be difficult to include in the mainstream of sacred texts – ritual texts used in baptism, funerals, marriage ceremonies, and others. However, it is noted here that religious language abounds in phatic ordinary conversations. For example, Crystal and Davy observe that one pointer to religious language lies in the fact that the linguistic importance of liturgical and biblical language is not restricted to religious situations, though, of course, its primary function is there (1969, p. 149). Whether one believes in the content of the language or not, the fact remains that its style has a cultural function and a linguistic impact which is generalizable beyond the original religious context in which it appears. Thus phatic communion that the British-Polish anthropologist, Malinowski refers to as ‘communication between people which is not intended to seek or convey information but has the social function of establishing or maintaining social contact’ might be labeled religious if it displays these elements. In fact, for many Christians in Nigeria, phatic communications are not only the means of establishing and maintaining social contact among themselves and with non-believers but they are also linguistic


strategies for conveying important information about their beliefs and way of life (that is, God should be thanked and given the glory for the good things in their lives). According to Thorne (1997, p. 347) features of religious language serve a number of functions, namely: 1 for upholding spiritual belief; 2 for persuading people to believe and to act in a certain moral way; and 3 they serve an expressive function – expression of feeling both in public and in private contexts. Thus our subjects’ shift praise to God responses might be interpreted to be performing some kinds of religious function. When an evangelical responds to a compliment, as in the following example, she or he accepts the verbal gift that the compliment proffers and agrees with the evaluation, but avoids self-praise by shifting the credit to God (‘It’s God-given’). Thus, the glory is given to God ‘for what have we that we did not receive and if we were given, there is no cause to glory in self, rather let all the glory be given to God.’ A: You have a nice voice. B: Thank you very much; it’s God-given. Thus, a large number of our subjects’ responses to the credit attributive component of the compliment avoid praise to self by shifting the credit to God with religious expressions such as, ‘Thank God for everything’/‘Really? I thank God for that’/‘To God be the glory’/ ‘Well, it’s God’s goodness.’ Regarding gender differences, we found that the pattern of women’s responses differs from that of men, especially in the frequency of shifting praise to God (see Tables 6.2 and 6.3). This might be interpreted to mean that evangelical men are more concerned with being arbiters of morality and religious politeness than women are, and that evangelical women are becoming more concerned with their status or enhancing their statuses above others than men are. This is the reverse of the common interpretation in the literature on the language use of men and women – that women’s speech differs from men’s in that women are more polite because they are the preservers of morality and civility (arbiters of morality and judges


of manners) while men’s language is rife with coarseness such as slang and swear words, and their language more often geared towards enhancing their own status. This explanation is premised on the cultural explanation of gender. The cultural or difference theory of gender states that the ways women and men use language points to the fact that women and men are socialized differently (Holmes, 1998, p. 477). This is akin to the sociolinguistic generalization that women use more standard forms than men do. Although the findings of many studies lend support to the above position there are exceptions to this. Hudson (1980), Labov (1982) and others, show where men use more standard forms than women of the same social group (Chambers, 1992; Holmes, Bell, and Boyce, 1991; Trudgill, 1983). Holmes (1998) suggests that such results are common in communities where women’s roles are extremely circumscribed. Assuming that shifting praise to God is the standard form or the emerging acceptable response type among Nigerian evangelicals, our findings suggest that men use the standard form more than women do in our data. Therefore, one of the ways to explain our findings is that perhaps Nigerian evangelical women’s roles in society, and particularly among ‘brethren,’ are extremely circumscribed. In other words, their (women’s) rights, power, and abilities are limited or restricted. Not many Nigerians would judge this unfair, since most evangelical assemblies in Nigeria are under the superintendence of men while women play supportive roles as leaders of faithful women and mothers of our children. Depending on our theoretical leanings, this situation might be viewed from either a dominance or cultural/ difference theory of gender. Another possible interpretation of our results, with particular reference to women’s pattern of response type is that contrary to the traditional position in the literature, which portrays women as those who value solidary actions more than status actions and as the sex group who tends to reduce status difference rather than emphasize them (Troemel-Ploetz, 1992), is that women seemed to be enacting new gender roles, thereby transgressing the conventional gender roles as arbiters of morality and politeness. This aligns with the postmodernist model of gender, which argues that though gender is regulated and policed by rather rigid social norms, this does not reduce men and women to automata, programmed by their early socialization to repeat forever the appropriate gendered behavior.


The theory treats women and men as conscious agents who may, albeit often at some social cost, engage in acts of transgression, subversion, and resistance (Butler, 1990). In fact, in recent times, Nigeria has witnessed the establishment of evangelical churches led by women. More women are occupying key positions in some traditional evangelical churches. Rather than remain in the background, as is often displayed in religious billboards where ‘men of God’ are placed higher than the women in the picture, women are beginning to take the lead. In summary, these results suggest what appears to be an emerging acceptable response type among Nigerian evangelicals – shifting credit to God. It also draws attention to the use of the religious style of our subjects in responding to compliments, which on its own serves a particular function. In relation to gender, the results portray evangelical women as the group whose abilities and powers are either being restricted or the group that is enacting a new gender role/ identity in response to the global changes that have been improving the lot of women.

Works cited Butler, J. (1990). Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge. Chambers, J. C. (1992). Linguistic correlates of gender and sex. English World-Wide 13(2), 173–218 Crystal, D. and Davy, D. (1969). Investigating English Style. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Farghal, M. and Al-Khatib, M. A. (2001). Jordanian college students’ responses to compliments: A pilot study. Journal of Pragmatics 33, 1485–502. Golato, A. (2002). German compliment responses. Journal of Pragmatics 34, 543–7. Henderson, A. (1996). Compliments, compliment responses, and politeness in an African-American community. In J. Arnold, D. Blade, B. Davidson, S. Schewenter, and J. Solomon (eds), Sociolinguistic Variation: Data, Theory, and Analysis: Selected Papers from NWAV at Stanford Centre for Study of Language and Information, Stanford, California. Herbert, R. K. (1989). The ethnography of English compliment and compliment responses: A constructive sketch. In W. Oleksy (ed.), Contractive Pragmatics. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Herbert, R. (1990). Sex-based differences in compliment behaviour. Language in Society 19, 201–24. Holmes, J. (1986). Compliments and compliment responses in New Zealand English. Anthropological Linguistics 28, 485–508.


Holmes, J. (1998). The question of sociolinguistic universals. In J. Coates (ed.), Language and Gender. Oxford: Blackwell. Holmes, J., Bell, A., and Boyce, M. (1991). Variation and change in New Zealand English: A social dialect investigation. Project report to the Social Sciences Committee of the Foundation for Research, Science and Technology, Victoria University, Wellington, New Zealand. Hudson, R. A. (1980). Sociolinguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Labov, W. (1982). Objectivity and commitment in linguistic science: The case of the Black English trial in Ann Arbor. Language in Society 11: 165–201. Manes, J. (1983). Compliments: A mirror of cultural values. In N. Wolfson and E. Judd (eds), Sociolinguistics and Language Acquisition. Rowley, MA: Newbury House. Miles, P. (1994). Compliments and gender. University of Hawaii Occasional Papers Series 26, 85–137. Mustapha, A. S. (2004). Gender Variation in Nigerian English Compliments. Unpublished PhD Thesis, Deptartment of Language and Linguistics, University of Essex. Pomerantz, A. (1978). Compliment responses: Notes on the cooperation of multiple constraints. In J. Schenkein (ed.), Studies in the Organization of Conversational Interaction. New York: Academic Press. Potter, T. M. (1995). A Study of Moroccan Arabic Address: Findings to support the development of communicative instructional materials for Arabic. PhD Dissertation, Georgetown University. Richard, J., Platt, J., and Platt, H. (1985). Longman Dictionary of Language Teaching and Applied Linguistics. Harlow: Longman. Thorne, S. (1997). Mastering Advanced English Language. London: Macmillan. Troemel-Ploetz, S. (1992). The construction of conversational equality by women. In K. Hall, M. Bucholtz, and B. Moonwomon (eds), Locating Power. Proceedings of the Second Berkeley Women and Language Conference, 4 and 5 April 1992, Vol. 2. Berkeley, CA: Berkeley Women and Language Group, University of California, pp. 581–9. Trudgill, P. (1983). On Dialect. Oxford: Blackwell. Webster, J. (1998). The language of religion: A sociolinguistic perspective. In M. Ghadessey (ed.), Registers of Written English. London: Pinter.

7 The Role of Language in the Construction of Gender and Ethnic-Religious Identities in Brazilian-Candomblé Communities Laura Álvarez López and Chatarina Edfeldt

Introduction Brazil was the country that received the greatest number of slaves over an extended period of time, with the ratio of women to men being about one to five (Nascimento, 2002, p. 103). It has the major concentration of African descendants outside Africa, and this explains the presence of cultural features of African origin throughout the country. A set of those features is transmitted from generation to generation within Candomblé communities in the city of Salvador (capital of the state of Bahia, Brazil), where data have been collected during extensive fieldwork (Álvarez López, 2004). Candomblé is a religion that emerged in Bahia by the late eighteenth century and has received far less attention than its sister religions Vodou and Santeria, all of which were (re)created in New World settings by enslaved Africans and their descendants. Its roots go back to the ancient religions of West, Central and Southwest Africa, but there are Amerindian and Catholic elements that reflect the influence of the multicultural society in which it emerged (Harding, 2000). This chapter will discuss the socio-religious organization, women’s positions, and the role of language in the construction of what 149


we call alternative ethnic-religious and gender identities within Brazilian-Candomblé communities.

Candomblé in Brazilian society Candomblé is an urban phenomenon that emerged above all in the city of Salvador, where up to today descendants of Africans have been a constant majority of more than 70 percent (Bacelar, 2001, p. 43). Most of the members of Candomblé communities are women, Black and poor (Siqueira, 1994): that is, identities or groups that suffer from structural discrimination in Brazilian society (Ferreira, 2000) or are suppressed by hegemonic culture on the basis of gender, ethnicity – or color of the skin – and class. Since the Portuguese colonizers arrived, Brazil has been a patriarchal society and, in terms of income inequality, Brazil is an outlier, with the second worst place in the world, after Sierra Leone (Ribeiro, 2005). In colonial Brazil, Africans and their descendants lived under highly unfavourable conditions imposed by the system of slavery and, after Abolition in 1888, they were incorporated into a class society in which a minority of rich people control most of the wealth and resources in society. ‘Racial’ segregation was never legitimized by Brazilian law, but there were no measures taken to integrate liberated slaves into Brazilian society (Álvarez López, 2004, pp. 12–13). In colonial discourse, enslaved African women were often considered sexual objects and/or producers of new generations of slaves. Candomblé and other African American religions have emerged and developed in the same way, in similar ‘historical contexts’ and ‘social frameworks’ (Castelli, 2001, p. 6). In that sense, McAlister states that Vodou ‘arose out of the institutionalized violence of slavery and still remains embedded in a system of unequal relations of power’ (2000, pp. 141–2). These multicultural contexts where enslaved Africans of various origins and their descendants lived side by side with European colonizers produced ‘intercultural transformations’ (Matory, 2005, p. 231). Another factor that has favored transformations is the oral transmission of religious knowledge and traditions from generation to generation. Today each community has its own traditions and, in that sense, they are autonomous and heterogeneous. Candomblé is

Constructing Gender and Ethnic-Religious Identities 151

not institutionalized and there are no holy books with dogmas and clearly defined written rules, which means that ideas can be negotiated and recreated in interaction. However, it has been observed that the ideological and behavioral unity in the communities is significant, and it is possible to identify analogies between the groups, no matter how autonomous and heterogeneous they might be (Costa Lima, 1977, p. 124). According to McAlister, ‘a creolized set of gendered structures’ can be observed in Vodou communities (2000, p. 141), and we believe that social categories or gendered structures upon which identities are constructed in Candomblé communities also can be described from a constructivist perspective as ‘creolizations’ or ‘intercultural transformations.’ Therefore we will analyze them as recreations that have been and still are negotiated and constructed in specific historical contexts and social frameworks in Brazil. Consequently, language and identities, including gender and ethnic-religious identities, will be studied in terms of reinvention within tradition (Alleyne, 1993, p. 179).

Agency in Candomblé communities In Candomblé, women are not silenced, nor excluded, from leading positions as they often are in the context of Brazilian society or in Catholic settings.1 The numbers of both female spiritual leaders and practitioners are high, and Candomblé has therefore been considered by some scholars of religion to be one of the few ‘female-dominated religions’ in the world (Sered, 1994). These religions exist worldwide, but when Susan Sered discusses women’s strong position in their organization, she finds no common explanations (cultural or historical) for women’s domination. Nevertheless, the author points to the shared social structures of matrilinearity and matrifocality as common denominators (Sered, 1994). An important task for religious gender studies has been to criticize the androcentric view and the claim of universality in mainstream research processes that historically led to women’s invisibility – in terms of agency – in religion. At an empirical level these studies examine and deconstruct the traditional view of women’s status as agents in religion by, for example, shifting the focus from religious doctrine to religious practice.


Ursula King states in her introduction to Religion and Gender that cross-cultural studies on religion have shown that ‘women’s position in religion is often a reflection, however oblique, of women’s status in society’ and that studies within the social sciences have pointed out that ‘religious systems both reflect and reinforce cultural values and patterns of social organization’ (1995, p. 15). The majority of the studies in this book seem to concentrate on women in the great world religions and therefore produce theories limited to that context. Although King’s statement may be relevant in relation to the social status of women in the official Catholic religion of Brazil, it nevertheless fails to include the complex gender order of the religious system of Candomblé. Since they are active agents in the communities, women’s and men’s participation is essential for religious rituals, and both can acquire power and status positions. In effect, any women and men who belong to low-status groups in Brazilian society may become respected spiritual leaders; there is also the fact that the four most prestigious Candomblé communities in the city of Salvador, said to be the most ‘traditional’ and ‘authentic,’ were founded by Black women. These individuals acquire alternative identities, different from those they may have in the surrounding society (Siqueira, 1994, p. 60), and this makes social ascent and empowerment possible within the communities. Sometimes women can also empower their positions outside the religious sphere – within their families, for example – by being recognized as religious leaders (Oliveira, 2003, p. 41) – and women who choose to remain unmarried also get accepted in the communities more easily than in Brazilian society (Matory, 2005, p. 214). That is why we understand Candomblé communities as spaces where alternative identities are possible ways of compensating for the subaltern position that many of the practitioners have in Brazilian society, considering its history of slavery (Oliveira, 2003, p. 41).

Stereotyped Afro-Brazilian identities In Brazilian society, the physical appearance of many of the members of Candomblé communities, mostly descendants of Africans, their worldview and their Africanized speech have been seen as negative characteristics upon which stereotypes have been elaborated (Alkmim, 1998, 2002).


Most members of Candomblé communities belong to groups that are discriminated against in Brazilian society (Ferreira, 2000; Siqueira, 1994) on the basis of gender, class, and ethnicity, and sometimes also sexual orientation. Several scientific studies from the twentieth century claimed that Africans were inferior, both ethnically and culturally. One example of this is the discussions in which trance and procession dances in Candomblé were explained by Africans’ supposed inferiority or women’s so-called nervous nature (Querino, 1988 [1938]; Rodrigues, 1976 [1933]). Lustosa (2004), who writes about the image of Blacks in Brazilian cultural tradition, concludes that individuals characterized as Black are synonymous with all kinds of negative qualities. In popular Brazilian literature, or cordel literature, individuals categorized as Black have been associated with evil and witchcraft, and Black and ‘mulatto’ women have been portrayed as immoral and lascivious (Moura, 1976). According to various authors (Franklin, 1970; Moura, 1976; Santos and Vianna, 1989, p. 14), such representations reflect the dominant ideas in Brazilian society about Black individuals.2 On the other hand, there is the image of the Black Mother, who became a powerful stereotyped icon of Freyrean mythology, which, ‘much like southern regionalism and nationalism in the United States, included the sentimentalization of plantation slavery’ (Matory, 2005, p. 200). The characteristic clichés are that she is ‘selfsacrificial, self-effacing, long-suffering, generous’ and also ‘constantly available’ as a nursemaid (Matory, 2005, p. 203). Along with this image of Black Mothers associated with Candomblé, there are stereotypes about men in Brazilian Candomblé, Cuban Ocha and Haitian Vodou communities as homosexuals and/or transvestites (Matory, 2005, p. 209). When it comes to language, negative attitudes towards the speech varieties historically associated with Afro-Brazilians have been identified by Alkmim (2001). In addition, it is known that recognized philologists have reproduced stereotypes by denying that some millions of speakers of what they considered inferior African languages would have influenced Portuguese – a language that, in their view, was superior (since it had a written literature) – and caused the obvious differences between Brazilian and European Portuguese (Álvarez López, 2004, pp. 80–91).


Empowerment and resistance Our belief is that religious fellowship and organization shape individuals’ perceptions of themselves, and religious communities can offer their members new cultural and social identities that help them find a way to self-actualization and empowerment. In a historical perspective, Candomblé practitioners have established bonds of symbolic kinship with everyone who has been initiated in the same temple. Religion may not only have given enslaved Africans and their descendants spiritual force; the communities also represented bases from which individuals found their way to construct and express individual and collective identities. By interacting in the sacred space of Candomblé, many individuals endured slavery (Moura, 1998), and the religious space turned out to be a place for resistance against hegemonic culture. Candomblé communities came to represent an arena where enslaved individuals constructed and negotiated identities. These identities were alternative in the sense that they contrasted to identities forced upon them by dominant sectors in colonial society, which attributed all kinds of negative qualities to women and men defined as Black and to their cultural values (Alkmim, 2001; Harding, 2000; Lustosa, 2004). Today, religious communities continue to offer new cultural and social identities to their members. Consequently, it is important to consider the significance of religious belief, symbolic references (for example, to Africa) and organizational structures in the formation of so-called ‘diasporic identities’ (Kokot et al., 2004, p. 6). Due to the importance given to African origins by many Candomblé communities, we believe the ‘diasporic’ factor to be an essential aspect of the collective identities constructed within these groups. Since we believe the construction of identities to be related to and specific for socio-political and cultural contexts, the notion of alternative Afro-Brazilian identities includes the different ways in which descendants of Africans have defined themselves and their culture (and how they have been defined) based on ideas about cultures and cultural differences in terms, among others, of gender, ethnicity, ways of life, religion, place/region and language (Kokot, Tölölyan, and Alfonso, 2004, p. 7). The fact that these religious communities were organized in colonial societies (Donaldson and Pui-lan, 2002) leads us to interpret them as spaces from which a


group of agents can ‘develop strategies of resistance for coping with their situation of oppression’ (King, 1995, p. 16) or subalternity.

Female leadership Historically, we know that in the city of Salvador, women have assumed an active role within Candomblé communities from the beginning. In that sense, they have been able to create alternative spaces for themselves – spaces that were, and still are, inclusive to all persons. When they become leaders, these women will direct the communities, handle the communication between community members and divinities, assure the performance of rituals, initiate new members and transmit religious knowledge to initiated persons, and so on. The first Candomblé temple in Salvador, the Engenho Velho or Casa Branca, is said to have been founded in 1830 by three African women (Carneiro, 1961, p. 63). Priestesses from that community later founded the communities called Gantois and Opô Afonjá. The Alaketu temple was also founded by an African woman (Costa Lima, 1977, pp. 24–9) in the nineteenth century. Consequently, the four most known Candomblé communities in Salvador were, as reported by oral tradition, founded by women. Today, the priestesses in charge of these communities are the most famous Candomblé leaders at a national level, and probably also internationally. That is why, since the 1930s, a group of charismatic women have been able to use their socio-religious prestige, among other things, to achieve the preservation of their cultural heritage. One example is the famous Mother Aninha, born in 1869 and founder of the temple called Ilê Axé Opô Afonjá in 1910, of which she was in charge until her death in 1938. It is said that it was due to her direct interference that the President of Brazil at that time, Getúlio Vargas, finally handed down a presidential decree, giving liberty to the Afro-Brazilian ‘cults’3 (Encontro de nações de candomblé, 1981, p. 70). Female leadership is significant since senior priestesses’ positions as recognized spiritual leaders, elected by the divinities, make it possible for women to openly display their religious power and knowledge in public. An interesting development, pointed out by Costa Lima (1977, p. 55), is that female leadership has increased over the years. In fact, Carneiro reported approximately 50 percent of women leaders in


67 registered temples in 1948 but, during his fieldwork in 136 communities in 1971–72, Costa Lima found that 75 percent of the religious leaders in charge of the communities visited by his team were women.

Candomblé language Since the 1970s, social and attitudinal changes in Brazil have given descendants of Africans increased opportunities for social mobility. Afro-Brazilian culture and religion have been officially recognized, and ethnic consciousness has increased in recent years. Consequently, it is possible to observe the reinvention of speech habits, food, hairstyles, clothes, and other aesthetic expressions with a focus on the groups’ alleged African origins. In this study, we are dealing with speakers who ‘produce and reproduce particular identities through their language use’ (Bucholtz and Hall, 2004, p. 369). Seen from the theoretical framework of linguistic anthropology presented by Bucholtz and Hall (2004), Candomblé language is a ‘deviation from the norm’; that is, from social and regional varieties of Brazilian Portuguese used in the same context, and the speakers using this variety would have failed to express themselves in a normative way, a fact that could be used as justification for social inequality. However, according to the same authors (2004, p. 373), studying speakers who challenge existing linguistic norms can lead us to the ‘theoretical understanding of identity as the outcome of agency.’ According to Giles (1977), individuals who do not have a positive social identity try to improve it, while individuals who do, try to keep it that way. This shows that speakers, whether they do it consciously or not, construct positive identities by adopting a linguistic variety that for some reason – often by identification with dominant social identities (Philips, 2004) – is evaluated in a positive way in a particular context. Although Africanized speech varieties have been stereotyped in Brazil, Candomblé language is definitely valorized in the observed religious settings (Álvarez López, 2004). The active use of Africanized varieties of Portuguese in a society where Africanity is associated with negative stereotypes can be seen as an act of resistance. The groups’ Africanity consists, among other things, in the preservation and recreation of cultural and linguistic features of various origins. Candomblé language represents a cultural


heritage that is limited to, at most, a couple of thousand words and expressions of African origin that are introduced in Portuguese utterances in specific communicative situations (Álvarez López, 2004; Castro, 2001). This linguistic code has a symbolic value (Castro, 2001, p. 80); thus, it is as important to the speakers to know when, where, and how they should use a special greeting or ask for a blessing, as it is to know the literal meaning. It is used both within and outside the communities and it can present several forms and social functions, such as secret code, sacred language and identity marker, all of which are susceptible to social change (Álvarez López, 2004).

Individual identities after religious initiation Candomblé requires initiation, and some of its main characteristics, such as divination, the offering of sacrifice, trance, and possession dance, were inherited from related religions from Sub-Saharan Africa. When initiated, each person is consecrated to specific deities that are said to ‘own their head.’ Individuals will also identify with their personal deities in terms of ethnic-religious origin and initiatic gender and age as well as personality. Belonging to what is called a Candomblé nation is part of the followers’ ethnic-religious alternative identity, just as their Brazilian nationality, on top of age and gender, is a meaningful part of the identities that the same persons can adopt in a secular setting (Barbour, 2000, p. 9). Nations constitute ‘auto-denominations that make reinvention of traditions evident’ (Teixeira, 1999, p. 134)4 by representing different ideological and ritual patterns related to the mythical origin – that is, the nation – or ethnic origin of the specific deity that protects each initiated person or his/her temple (Castro, 1981; Costa Lima, 1976). In Salvador, the units that we call ethnic-religious families belong to three main African nations with subdivisions: Ketu or Nagô, Jeje or Mina-Jeje and Angola or Congo-Angola. Initiatic gender means the gender category to which the initiated person will belong depending on the gender attributed to the deity to which she or he has been consecrated. During rituals, it is possible to observe that women possessed by male deities are addressed as if they were men, and people will refer to them, in Portuguese, as ‘he.’


The same thing will happen with men possessed by female deities. In this setting, women can assume male gendered alternative identities and vice versa. This phenomenon has also been attested to in other Afro-American religious (McAlister, 2000, p. 129). As we shall see, the use of gender-related words and expressions reflect a group’s views of femaleness and maleness (King, 1995, p. 5). Initiatic age – that is, by year of initiation, regardless of birth age – is another factor that identifies individuals and affects their positioning in the socio-religious organization of Candomblé communities, including power relations. Personality is another factor related to the deities. Just as an individual’s personality can be defined by her or his sign in the Zodiac, here individuals are defined on the basis of the deities who ‘own their heads.’ The same thing has been attested within Cuban Santería and Haitian Vodou (Menéndez, 2002, pp. 153–64).5 Afro-Brazilian deities are called Exú, Iemanjá, Iansan, Ogun, Xangô, Oxumarê, and so on. Each one is associated with a set of characteristics that rules the practitioners’ personalities. A person is usually consecrated to more than one deity, but one of them will be the main guide in each person’s life. Women and men consecrated to the male divinity called Xangô, for example, will be gendered as male and described as, among other things, generous, self-indulgent, epicurean, portly, domineering, and lazy (Matory, 2005, p. 247). If they are possession priests, they will be possessed by Xangô during specific rituals. Candomblé followers are expected to adopt certain behavioral patterns and use a specific terminology in religious contexts. Candomblé is not exceptional in this; there are several examples of religions that use special linguistic codes (Brand, 2000; Castro, 2001; Hymes, 1972; Saville-Troike, 1989). During a first period of socialization into the group, individuals should acquire not only religious knowledge, but also social and communicative competence through experiences, group activities, rituals, lyrics and rhythms, dances, gestures, and corporal language (Augras, 1983). Both women and men have access to a set of speaking roles and speech genres (Philips, 2004, p. 483). The main rule is that the younger members in terms of initiatic age should listen to their elders, who are supposed to transmit their knowledge to the newly initiated. In any case, neither gender categories used in Brazilian society and based upon biological assumptions, nor ‘natural’ age or ‘nationality’


are ignored in Candomblé communities. In fact, there are taboos for menstruating women in ritual spaces and some ritual duties are normally restricted to men (Bastide, 2001, p. 147; Matory, 2005, p. 208). We are saying, rather, that in this socio-cultural context, such categories are often understood as less important factors than the initiatic age and gender or ethnic-religious national belonging of a practitioner, which are constituent parts of the identities constructed within the sacred space of Candomblé.

Initiatic gender identities and language Orixá A specific gender system is articulated and negotiated within Candomblé communities. An observation made by Oyewumi is that the Yoruba word oris. a (and its reproductions in New World settings as orixá in Brazil or orisha in Cuba), the generic word for god, is not gendered (2001, p. 90): both male and female deities take the same denomination. Iabá and aborô In several communities, female orixás and the practitioners consecrated to them will be categorized as iabá or ayabá, and the ones consecrated to male deities will be categorized as aborô. According to Castro, the term iabá as used by Candomblé practitioners has its origin in the Yoruba expression ìyá àgbà (2001, p. 146), meaning ‘the old mother, the queen.’6 This term is related to ayabá, which is explained as a generic term for female deities and initiated women devoted to them (Castro, 2001, p. 146). Ayabás are said to take care of the ritual cooking for the divinities, and the etymology given is ayaba (Fon-Yoruba), meaning ‘domestic divinity, person who takes care of the fire and helps to prepare the food; queen; female name’ (Castro, 2001, p. 146).7 The proposed etymology for aborô is àbúrò (from Yoruba), a male gendered term meaning younger brother (Castro, 2001, p. 138). Iabás and aborôs will have different responsibilities and duties. In some of the communities, iabás, and especially those consecrated to Iemanjá, are expected to prepare ritual food. Other communities prefer to see female iabás performing Candomblé-related domestic services (Matory, 2005, p. 205; recording with female priestess in


2005). In some of the groups, men, and not only the gender category of the aborôs but also the category of male adult based on biology, are not allowed to enter the kitchen (Marinho, 2000, p. 207). This fact may be explained by the influence of gender roles in the surrounding society. Since different groups have different traditions, everything can be negotiated in interaction with the deities through the oracles, and therefore exceptions from these rules are always possible. Mogê and erô Another example of the phenomenon of ‘doing gender’ in interaction has been observed when an iabá or aborô is addressed. If that person – regardless of her or his gender outside the community – has been consecrated to a female deity, ‘she’ will be gendered as female or iabá and should answer ‘Mogê?’ while the aborô – that is, someone consecrated to a male deity – answers ‘Erô?’, both meaning ‘Yes? What is it?’ Adé and monokó Gender systems in Brazilian society and Candomblé communities are not limited to the construction of male and female: they include a continuum of categories classified by sexual options. Amaral argues that it is possible to identify five ‘gender categories’ in Candomblé (2002, p. 76): man, woman, adé (homosexual male), monokó (homosexual female) and gilete (razor blade, which means bisexual). However, these categories are valid not only in Candomblé communities. Gilete is not a word of African origin specific to these groups; it is the trademark of a razor blade: Gilette. This expression can be heard in gay communities that have no relation to Candomblé. In addition, the category of adé exists and has been silenced in Brazil, Cuba and Haiti (Matory, 2005, p. 209). In the Brazilian context, the stereotype adé has been represented as a ‘particular, locally recognized type of homosexual’, associated to transvestism or cross-dressing and to sexual ‘passivity’, or the experience of being penetrated during intercourse’ (Matory, 2005, p. 212). Earlier studies have shown that tolerance for transgressions of normative sexualities is greater in Candomblé communities than in Brazilian society (Amaral, 2002; Birman, 1995). In any case, seen from the perspective of most Candomblé practitioners, there is no transgression of gender roles or sexualities. A woman consecrated to a male deity can (if she wishes) justify her desire for other women by being


aborô, and, according to Amaral, her sexual orientation would be understood not as a lack of balance but as another level of expression of the initiated individual’s sexuality (2002, p. 75). In the same way, an adé can explain his love for other men by being iabá. Moreover, Candomblé has its mythology, and there are legends about deities like Oxumarê, who is said to be male during a six-month period and female during the rest of the year (Lody, 1995, p. 101). Birman argues that adés are men specialized in exploring, through possession trance, a side of their personality or sexuality associated with femaleness (1995, p. 111–15). Within many Candomblé communities, adés are free to acquire and emphasize alternative gender identities. Gender is constructed in interaction by Candomblé practitioners according to their worldview. In fact, by looking at initiated persons’ clothing code in ritual settings or observing the activities they are performing, we may be able to deduce which initiatic gender category she or he belongs to. But gender identity is also constructed in interaction by the use of a set of gendered words and expressions of African origin that define individuals’ identities in terms of personalities, age, gender, and sexual orientations, and so forth.

Initiatic ethnic-religious identities and language In general terms we could say that words and expressions of Yoruba origin dominate in the Nagô-Ketu nations, Ewe-Fon in Jeje nations, and that the Angola nation and its variants show a predominance of terms from Bantu languages (Castro, 2001). There are similar patterns in the Afro-Cuban context, where Regla Ocha or Santería communities use terms of Yoruba origin, Adja-Fon languages dominate in the expressions of Regla Arará, and the secret Abakuá societies would mainly show Efik and Ibibio influence, while Regla Conga or Palo Monte has a majority of Bantu terms (Fuentes, 2002, p. 24). In other words, the concept of African nation, on which ethnic-religious identity is built, has emerged in various non-European social and historical contexts, is related to language use and is still going through transformations. Initiatic names Each initiated person gets an alternative initiatic name of African origin, nome de santo (saint’s name), associated with the deity that


guides her or his life. Initiatic names are normally used in in-group communication.8 In other groups of descendants of Africans in the Americas, like Rastas in Jamaica, the choice of alternative African names reveals the positive qualities associated with Africanity in these groups. According to Hutton and Murrel: What is most important about African names is the psychological identity and Black consciousness that they inspire in diaspora Africans, and in Rastafarians in particular, as they identify themselves with African nobility, strength, endurance, deities, and resistance. (1998, p. 50) Observations about the symbolism of African names also suggest that the name is an important factor since it highlights the relationship between language and identities in in-group interaction. Aceto explains that: alternative names or multiple naming practices signal the emphasis or construction of an imminent or latent identity (or inversely, in some cases, the rejection or concealment of a previous identity) correlated with one or more socially constructed components, such as language, kinship, social status, ethnicity, nationality, spirituality, or gender. (2002, p. 582) Initiated members of Candomblé communities get alternative African initiatic names as symbols of the individual deity that guides each person’s life. Eventually, by using an initiatic name of African origin, people use language to signal ethnic-religious identities: their names represent their deities, their ethnic-religious origins, and reflect solidarity in in-group interaction, working as markers of the speakers’ collective identities. Saville Troike (1989, p. 238), points out that ceremonies of reception of titles and names are part of many passage rites, observable in various cultures. In Candomblé communities, alternative names function as markers of an alternative identity and cultural solidarity associated with Africanity. There are also ceremonies held by groups of various ethnic-religious nations, that finalize the first process of


initiation, where the novice, possessed by the deity, declares her or his name (dijina or oruncó, the first term of Bantu origin, the second of Yoruba origin, both meaning initiatic name; see Castro, 2001). Initiatic names are always related to the principal deity of each initiate: a person belonging to the Nagô-Ketu nation and consecrated to Oxum, a deity associated with sweet or salt water, may have a name that includes the word omim, which means ‘water’ in Yoruba. Consequently, initiatic names are also gendered. During the naming ceremony, the initiate is presented in public for the first time after a period of reclusion in the temple. According to Castellanos and Castellanos, initiatic names in Afro-Cuban contexts express the individual’s new religious identity (1992, p. 321). Today, the presence of inherited African names in Candomblé communities reveals that these do in fact have symbolic values as well as social and cultural meanings. They are positively valued in Candomblé communities, where people interpret and explain their meanings, and that is the reason they survive. A priestess explains the importance of African names: I consider that receiving an African name by entering the group of novices is a way to regain an African identity, since the Africans brought here and their descendants were denied the right to preserve, to have their real name. Maybe that’s why the oldest persons of Angola nation have been very exigent when it comes to the use of initiatic names within the religious community, and the elders today always react when people do not observe addressing by the initiatic name. (Our translation, Encontro de Nações de Candomblé 2, 1995, p. 47) In addition, many Candomblé followers explicitly defend the obligatory use of alternative names within the religious space (Encontro de Nações de Candomblé 2, 1995, p. 47). Forms of address The nation–language relationship can also be seen in the forms of address used by followers of different nations. Many of these expressions of African origin translate the socio-religious organization of the groups. Some of the titles, such as babalorixá (priest), makota (priestess),


nêngua (priestess), and ialorixá (priestess) are gendered words that function as forms of address and as social and gender identity markers. This appears explicitly in the example below, when a priest and a priestess of different nations interact during a conference: C: I’m a babalorixá, I come from São Paulo … To begin with, I would like to congratulate this ialorixá, an excellent ialorixá, for what she is saying. VP: Please, I’m a makota, below the nêngua that is the equivalent to ialorixá. (Encontro de Nações de Candomblé 2, 1995, pp. 66–7, our translation) ‘C,’ a priest who has the title of babalorixá (of Yoruba origin) of the Nagô-Ketu nation, does not show communicative competence by using the appropriate expression during this public conversation. He treats his interlocutor as if she was a priestess of the Nagô-Ketu nation, and she does not accept that. ‘VP’ answers by correcting her interlocutor’s error and identifies herself as an initiated woman who has the post, or social position, expressed by the gendered term of makota, used within the hierarchy of her community. She explains that the position of an ialorixá in the Ketu nation is equivalent to the nêngua in the Angola nation, and she places herself one step below that in the hierarchy of her group by affirming her position as a makota. Both interlocutors are constructing their identities, based upon the ideas about ethnic-religious, age and gender identities, and social positions, using terms of African origin. VP apparently has a lower rank, but surely a higher communicative competence, than her interlocutor. Examples of forms of address used in the communities are: ●

●

Afro-Brazilian title and initiatic name in combination: Tata Kasutemi, a man initiated in the Congo-Angola tradition who does not get possessed and is consecrated to a male deity called Kassuté; title in Portuguese, personal name and Afro-Brazilian name of the deity to which this person was consecrated: Pai Carlinhos de Oxalá, a priest (pai means ‘father’), in this case the priest’s civil name is Carlinhos (diminutive form of Carlos), and he is consecrated to Oxalá, a male deity of the Nagô-Ketu nation;


●

Afro-Brazilian term corresponding to the person’s place in the group of novices initiated at the same time: dofono de Iemanjá, the first initiated male in his group of novices (a woman would have been dofona) consecrated to a deity called Iemanjá.

Other titles are ogan, ekede, mameto, dote, done. These are gendered as male-female on the basis of the individual’s sex, and they can help the interlocutor identify her or his ethnic-religious nation, position in the hierarchy, and whether or not she or he ‘has the gift of’ getting possessed by specific deities during ceremonies. In all the examples above, the forms of address reveal the individual’s initiatic gender. There is also the term iaô (novice), which can be the title of both men and women since it is not gendered; it refers to a person with less than seven years of initiation in the Nagô-Ketu nation. In this case, initiatic age is more important than natural age or any gender category. Verbal greetings Verbal greetings accompanied by appropriate gestural expressions are the usual way of saluting the deities or starting a conversation when one initiate meets another. It is important to know when and how to salute each deity properly and how to greet or thank each of the members of the communities according to her or his ethnic-religious nation, the communicative situation, and position in the hierarchy of Candomblé. In fact, when greeting somebody, people are supposed to be asking their interlocutor’s principal deity for a blessing. One of the informants affirms that: I: You also have to know how to communicate … with ogan … ask for a blessing … ask oh … kolofé or motumbá or mokuiú9 … (recording from 30 March 2000, our translation) Iká and dobale: non-verbal salutes There are also female and male types of salute, and there are gendered words for them: dobale and iká. Dobale means salutation, or gesture of respectful greeting, made by those who are consecrated to female deities. Iká is the salute of persons consecrated to male deities. The difference between the two salutes is the position of the persons, who lie on the ground to reverence different deities. Both expressions are of Yoruba origin (Castro, 2001).


Greetings and blessings Greetings or blessings thus illustrate linguistic differences between the nations and, although they can be interpreted as formulaic sequences (Wray, 2001, p. 9), their symbolic value has to be taken into account. Sometimes initiates use Portuguese expressions to ask for a blessing, but most frequently, expressions from Candomblé language associated with one of the African nations, are used. These will work as identity markers and indicate social differences and speakers’ ethnic-religious origin from the moment the interaction starts with a greeting. Greetings are specific to each nation and are part of the communicative competence needed to become a member of the speech community (Duranti, 2001, p. 208). In that sense, language represents the speaker’s ethnic-religious nation, and communicative competence is part of her or his identity as a member of the community. By saying mukuiú to greet his elders, an initiate of the Angola nation will be asking for a blessing. In a Nagô-Ketu temple, the corresponding expression is motumbá, while kolofé is the Jeje version of the greeting (see Castro, 2001 for more etymological details). The use of expressions of African origin discussed in this section reveals that Candomblé language has a symbolic value in the sense that expressions are transmitting information about factors that are essential to the alternative identities acquired within the communities: worldview, initiatic age, place in the socio-religious hierarchy, gender and qualities of the deities to whom the individual has been consecrated, ethnic-religious nation, as well as the temple where she or he has been initiated. These factors are more important in this context than the nationality, gender, social identity, or age attributed to the same person outside the community. That is the reason they are made explicit through a set of linguistic elements.

Final remarks It has been argued in this chapter that Candomblé practitioners articulate alternative ethnic-religious and gender identities based upon cultural tradition through language use. In addition, we have said that these identities have been constructed to favor individual and collective self-actualization of members of groups that historically have been cast as inferior by dominant groups in Brazilian society. In


that sense, the function of the inclusion of differentiating lexical linguistic markers (or vehicles of symbolic expression) in interaction is to elaborate the speakers’ identities. By choosing a specific linguistic variety, practitioners are actively accepting, valorizing, and actualizing their cultural heritage and affirming an alternative positive identity. It has also been pointed out that in these communities, the transmission of religious knowledge by means of orality opens the way for new interpretations and transformations, among which we can find, as we do in Candomblé communities, ‘a creolized set of gendered structures’ (McAlister, 2000, p. 141). From this perspective, Candomblé communities can be understood, both historically and in the present, as alternative social settings of empowerment and resistance of marginalized groups in Brazilian society. In them, prevailing hegemonic social identities can be renegotiated and deconstructed to offer new and different social and cultural identities to members. We have also pointed out some characteristics of the religious discourse of Candomblé that challenge the standard Western view of gender orders and roles in a patriarchal society. In the first place, women have strong positions, can become leaders of these religious communities, and have the opportunity to display their power in public settings, a fact that contradicts earlier assumptions that the position of women in religion often reflects the status of women in society (King, 1995, p. 15). Second, we have explored some of the ways devout behavior is specifically gendered and how language is the transmitter of these codes. We are referring to the continuum of socially constructed gender categories classified by sexual options and to the sex categories attributed to initiated members depending on the deity to which they have been consecrated. We have also commented upon the fact that women can assume male gendered identities and vice versa. ‘Doing gender’ through language in these communities is an activity influenced by and depending on the constructed identities of deities. In some cases, this means an inversion or transgression of a heteronormative Western conception of social and gender orders. In any case, it is important here to bear in mind that the inclusion of transgendering acts in ritual settings may not be interpreted as such within their own religious understanding. Having said all this, we


suggest that Candomblé religious discourse challenges the dominant Catholic religious dogma as well as the hegemonic discourse of social gender and ‘racial’ order as a whole in Brazilian society.

Notes 1. In the national census of 2000, 125 million of the 170 million Brazilians declared that they were Roman Catholics (see: http://www.ibge.gov. br/home/estatistica/populacao/censo2000/populacao/religiao_Censo 2000.pdf). 2. See also Moura (1988, p. 80), about negative stereotypes of Black people in Brazil. 3. Until 1946 Candomblé celebrations were forbidden by law and temples had to be registered in the police station up until the 1970s. 4. Our translation. 5. See also: http://www.ezilikonnen.com/mettet.html. 6. Our translation. 7. Our translation. 8. According to Valdina Pinto (Encontro de Nações de Candomblé 2, 1995, pp. 46–7), the initiate of the Angola nation has two names: the particular name of his/her deity, which is considered secret, and the initiatic or African name, dijina, which should be used in communication within the group. 9. Ogan is a post within Candomblé. Kolofé, motumbá and mukuiú are different expressions used to ask for a blessing, according to the person’s and the interlocutor’s ethnic-religious nations.

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Ribeiro, A. P. (2005). Brasil tem segunda pior distribuição de renda do mundo. In Folha Online 1 June 2005. http://www1.folha.uol.com.br/folha/brasil/ ult96u69318.shtml Accessed 20 April 2006. Rodrigues, R. N. (1976). Os Africanos no Brasil, 4th edn. São Paulo: Companhia Editora Nacional. Santos, O. de J. and Vianna, M. (1989). O negro na literatura de cordel. Rio de Janeiro: Fundação casa de Rui Barbosa. Saville-Troike, M. (1989). The Ethnography of Communication: An Introduction, 2nd edn. Oxford: Blackwell. Sered, S. (1994). Priestess, Mother, Sacred Sister: Religions Dominated by Women. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Siqueira, M. de L. (1994). ‘Ago Ago Lonan’: Mitos, ritos e organização em Terreiros de Candomble na Bahia. Bahia Análise & Dados 4, 56–64. Teixeira, M. L. L. (1999). Candomble e a [re]Invenção de Tradições. In C. Caroso and J. Bacelar (eds), Faces da tradição afro-brasileira: religiosidade, sincretismo, anti-sincretismo, reafricanização, práticas terapêuticas, etnobotânica e comida. Rio de Janeiro: Pallas; Salvador, BA: CEAO, pp. 131–40. Wray, A. (2001). Formulaic Language and the Lexicon. New York: Cambridge University Press.

8 Gender and Language Use in Lisu Traditional Religion1 Defen Yu

Introduction This chapter investigates gender and language use in the Lisu traditional religion. It first provides a brief introduction to the religion. Then, gender roles of the spirits in the Lisu religion as well as gender status in religious life of the Lisu are discussed. Language use in religion, such as names for various spirits as well as shamans, linguistic terms and styles for religious activities, and gendered terms in daily usage which originated from religious language, will be looked at. The study attempts to discover how traditional religion empowers gender status in Lisu communities through language use. The data used in this chapter are mainly from the Western and Northern dialects of the Lisu language. It is presented using Qing 4 font. Lisu is one of the 55 ethnic minority people groups officially recognized in China. There are approximately 900,000 to 1,000,000 people (Bradley, 1994, 2003) who are living in the border mountains of four countries, namely China, Myanmar, Thailand, and India. The Lisu language belongs to the Tibeto-Burman language family, under Sino-Tibetan stock. There are four major dialects of Lisu: Southern (Thailand), Western (Nujiang, Yunnan, China), Northern (Ninglang and Dechang, Yunnan and Sichuan, China) and Central (Luquan, Kunming, China). The Lisu are also divided into three groups according to the different national costumes they wear: White, Flowery and Black Lisu. The Lisu traditional religion consists of animism, ancestral worship, and spirit worship. Spirit worship in the Lisu communities gave rise to a system of social as well as religious responsibilities which 172

Lisu Traditional Religion: Gender and Language Use 173

came to be called the nigusu (‘people who worship the spirits’) by Christian Lisu. The Lisu do not have a specific term or self-address form for their religion. Their beliefs are inherited from their ancestors. Due to the lack of an earlier writing system, the Lisu religion, culture, and history were, and are still, carried on and transferred to generations by shamans and elders orally through religious language such as the oto (‘funeral song’; literally, language of the dead), which is actually a singsong-style conversation between the dead (represented by the shaman) and the living (also represented by the shaman). Younger generations gain knowledge of their religion through religious language, which is more ancient, remote, and stable than daily language. In the same way, religious practice and knowledge is transferred to younger generations, mostly by shamans. Language use prescribed in the Lisu religion is often prefixed either by ma (‘the soul or spirit of a deceased person’) or a (‘evil’ or ‘wrong’). Religious language is presented in a stylized chanting genre. Like the Thailand Lisu (Hutheesing, 1990), gender roles in the Lisu communities in China appear to be male dominant and female subordinate. Women are restricted to domestic housework. However, since the Lisu do not have specific social organizations like some large national groupings and since their religion is not as institutionalized as in other, bigger societies, there is no clear ‘gender segregation’ as there is for the Indian women who feature in Shabadi’s work (2005, pp. 257–69). Women are restricted from traditional religious activities which compose the most important part of Lisu life. One often hears female behavior and activities being criticized as in Example 1: (1) zamza

a

si

woman COP SQ ‘Aren’t you a woman? (You should know the consequence of doing or saying things you are not allowed.) Female spirits as well as female mediators are also of a lower status, or even malevolent, when it comes to the Lisu religion. This can be seen from the vampire-like character nimoma or p iama (‘old female spirit’) in Lisu traditional ghost stories. It is also seen in totemic creators of disease and death of the Lisu o (‘funeral


song’ or ‘death language’) as in Example 2: (2) mi

ma

mo

ni

i

monkey female old S create ‘Created by the old female monkey’ h

EVID

b?

rat female old S sing ‘Proclaimed by the old female rat’

COP

EVID

ma

ni

COP

a

la

mo

bɯ

gua

i

ma

a

o

i

create TOP NEG have create ‘Created things that should never been seen’ gua

la

ma

o

gua

a COP

a

sing TOP NEG have create COP ‘Proclaimed things that should never been heard’

bɯ EVID

bɯ EVID

It is obvious to the Lisu that the female role in spiritual and daily life is negative. In fact, this religious attitude is also reflected elsewhere in the Lisu culture. Investigating gender and language in the Lisu religion is a way to understand the Lisu society and its culture.

Previous studies on the Lisu religion and gender Besides the comprehensive study of the Thailand Lisu religion by Durrenberger (1989), partial studies have been done by Hutheesing (1989), Song and colleagues (1981), and so on. To my knowledge, and according to the Lisu oral and written literature, the Lisu have their own unique traditional religion. It seemed that to Durrenberger, the Lisu traditional religion was derived from those of the Shan, Kachin and Burmese (1989, pp. 41–3). Except for the terms presented on page 42 of the book, all the traditional religious ceremonies of Thailand Lisu documented in his work appear to be Lisu. As a Lisu myself, I observed and heard about similar religious activities from Ninglang and Dechang Lisu who have not had any contact either with Shan or with Kachin or with Burmese, so far. It is possible that


Thailand Lisu borrowed religious terms to adapt themselves to the surrounding people. I doubt that they easily turned from their less compulsory religion to Buddhism which has more prohibitions. Based on her being in the midst of the Lisu people in Thailand for four years, Hutheesing (1990) authentically presented the gender roles, especially the women’s inferior status in every aspect of the Thailand Lisu’s life, both in daily activities and traditional religious ceremonies. Apart from the documented religious literatures of the Lisu, language use in Lisu traditional religion has not been discussed specifically. This chapter attempts to examine gender and language use in the Lisu traditional religion based on available documents, the data that I collected from different Lisu villages on various occasions, and particularly on personal reflection.

The Lisu traditional religion Before Christianity emerged in Lisu lands in the early twentieth century, the Lisu were (and some still are) animists. The Lisu traditional religion is centered on two major characters, the ni (‘spirit’) and the nip a (‘shaman’ or ‘male shaman’), also called pip a. Traditionally, the Lisu believe that everything has its own ni orsi (spirit’) – including features of the natural environment, animals and deceased ancestors – which should not be offended. Most Lisu believe in the existence of a powerful spirit who created the earth mypywusa (‘the god who moulds the earth’) or wasap a (‘the god’; male orientated). There are also lesser spirits, such as hik uani (‘house spirit’), misini (‘forest/hill spirit’), ji ani (‘water spirit’),

aguni (‘road spirit’). The most vicious evil ghost is nimoma or p iama (‘Old Female Ghost’). It is a half human and half spirit or vampire-like creature who kills human beings for food. There are a lot of spirit stories where the Old Female Ghost is present. The ruler of the evil spirits in Shibacha Lisu is called niduwu (‘ruler of the evil spirits’), which is related to the jiduwu (‘water beaver’). It is said that the niduwu travels mostly along the rivers and valleys. Lisu rifles and long turbans were used by the nip a (‘shaman’) to drive away the niduwu. I was told that the bullet put in the rifle was not an iron ball as usual but a mixture of dirty things, such as dung, nasal mucus, ear wax, and moss from a dirty creek. Then the rifle would be


aimed at the place where the nip a (‘shaman’) presumes the niduwu will appear. One end of a long, clean turban would be tied on the trigger of the gun and the other end of the turban would be tied to four or five of the young men’s waists in order to resist the reprisal by the niduwu. The Lisu believe that there are spirits everywhere – everything has its own spirit – and so it is impossible not to offend the spirits all the time. People may offend them without being aware. Furthermore, Lisu believe that some of the evil spirits attack people without being offended. Spirits like p iaima (‘old female spirit’) and mni (‘hungry spirit’) attack people deliberately. Some spirits such as misini (‘forest/hill spirit’), ji ani (‘water spirit’), and aguni (‘road spirit’) may be encountered unexpectedly. People may get sick or even die when this happens. On such occasions, they appease these spirits by offering live sacrifices, such as a rooster, male goat, or a bull. Female animals are seldom used in offering sacrifices. A shaman’s duty is to investigate which spirit was offended in order to offer the appropriate sacrifice to that spirit. A shaman is the person at the centre of Lisu traditional religion. He is usually seen as possessing spiritual powers greater than normal human beings. He inherited this office from his forefathers, who were also shamans. The process of becoming a shaman can be achieved by a novice shaman learning from a mature shaman. A shaman’s major duty is to perform the Lisu traditional funeral ceremony, which is the Lisu’s most important religious activity. His usual duties include rituals such as foretelling, offering sacrifices, and calling back or driving away spirits. Other than the main nip a, there is another type of shaman who are all male: pip a (⬍pi ‘mediate’ ⫹ pha ‘male’) or nigup a (⬍ni ‘spirit’ ⫹ gu ‘offer/treat’ ⫹ p a ‘male’). There is also a doma (‘witch’; ⬍do ‘poison’ ⫹ ma ‘female’) who is gendered as female. All the shamans nip a and pip a, or nigup a are males. They all play the roles of spirit mediators in Lisu traditional religious life. The difference is that a nip a and pip a, or nigup a (‘shaman’; male) performs a positive function, while the doma (‘witch’; female) is often regarded as the negative party, though she often cures the sick who are left uncured by the shamans. The second type of shaman has a different duty and a different rank. The nip a has the highest rank and has more power. He is able to see various ghosts


or spirits with his own eyes. He conducts all the religious ceremonies including foretelling and killing evil spirits. The pip a or nigup a has less power than the nip a. He can offer sacrifices, but does not have the power to foretell or see the spirits. Even today, traditional religious ceremonies such as communicating with the dead during a funeral are conducted by the nip a or pip a (‘shaman’). A shaman is still very important and respected among traditional Lisu communities because the Lisu continue to gain knowledge of their past through the shaman. Christians are not encouraged to meet up with traditional Lisu believers. I was not able to see a Lisu shaman until 1999 while doing field work in the Waliluo Village of Ninglang County in Yunnan, where Christianity has not yet been preached. The opportunity was purposely arranged by my former student at the Yunnan Nationalities University who was also a resident of the village. The shaman, who was one of the student’s brothers, said, ‘Teacher Yu, the Lisu funeral song can tell you from where and how we Lisu are here in our present places. But I cannot sing it now. Maybe, if you can stay longer, I mean … because there is someone in the village who is really sick. Who knows, you may able to record some.’ We did not continue the topic because I want every one of my Lisu fellows to live a healthy, happy life. The sick person should be cured. In 2001, I received a mail package from Ninglang, two cassettes from my student’s brother, the shaman! He tape-recorded the funeral song sung by himself in a deep forest where nobody could hear. The quality of the recording was not good due to the machine and the windy weather of that day. But I did learn a lot from those two tapes, as the shaman once said. I also had a chance to communicate with a shaman in the Jinsha village in Dechang County, Sichuan Province in June, 2001. He was very sad because his brother was killed in a car accident at that time. I tried not to ask him anything about his duty in the village. Still, an opportunity to chat with the shaman was arranged by the village leader, a relative of my language consultant, Ms Xiong from the bear clan of that village. We did not talk much, but he explained to me some terms such as the prefixes ma (‘spirit’) and a (‘hell’ or ‘evil’) which are frequently used in religious ceremonies. Since the Lisu funeral is a major part of their traditional religion, he suggested that Ms Xiong should retell what he did and said during a funeral ceremony in order that I could have a recording from her. We did as he


suggested. I recorded Ms Xiong’s retelling of the whole procedure of a Lisu traditional funeral at her house. I transcribed some difficult parts with her at her place. One night in my office at La Trobe University, I was transcribing certain parts of the conversation between the mediator and the dead. The recording was so clear and so vivid that I felt very uncomfortable and had to stop the transcribing. It was as if I was at the scene, listening or participating in the activity rather than performing a mere linguistic task – transcribing – as in the following narratives: (3) su

ma

dza

nu

t

ua

3pl NEG eat 2sg O feed ‘They feed you though they have nothing to eat’ ma

o

su

ua

nu

t

go

NEG have 3pl borrow 2sg O feed ‘They offer you even though they have to borrow from others’

nu

dza

ku

jø

ma

ku

2sg eat can work NEG can ‘You know how to eat yet you no longer know how to farm’

ku

ø

ma

ku

borrow can return NEG can ‘You know how to borrow yet you do not know how to return’ Due to the constraints of Lisu life, the traditional religion is becoming more like ancestor worship; contact with various spirits in the wilderness has decreased. Also, because of the availability of medical consultation and medication, the practice of animal sacrifice has lessened. Offerings to the house guardian spirits on various occasions, such as celebrating festivals, house building, farming, and so on, have become more common. Such offerings often include a meal or liquid offering, done by the householder by burning a bit of his food or drink before eating or drinking. It is called t udo (‘burnt offering’) in Northern Lisu.


The souls of deceased ancestors, especially those of heroic ancestors, are regarded to have the power not only to protect families and clans, but also to bless their descendants. That is why the Lisu set altars to feed the souls of their ancestors as their guardian spirits, as in the following from Ms Xiong, retelling the Dechang Lisu’s offering to their ancestral spirits: The shaman (4) su

ma

dza

nu

t

ua

3pl NEG eat 2sg O feed ‘They feed you though they have nothing to eat,’ ma

o

su

ua

nu

t

go

have 3pl borrow 2sg O feed ‘They offer you even though they have to borrow from others.’

NEG

nu

jiwa

t

t a

na

t a

p ia

ts

2sg 3pl O PROH sick PROH vomit ‘Protect them from being sickness and diseases.’ za

hy

hi

bi

let

ts

son give birth to house full let ‘Bless them for having a full house of many sons (children).’

ø

hy

ø

bø

bi

livestock give birth to livestock pen full ‘Bless them for raising livestock to fill the many pens.’ The Lisu funeral reflects many aspects of the Lisu traditional religion and it is through the funeral ceremonies that the Lisu learn about their history and culture. A Lisu traditional funeral ritual is performed by the shamans on behalf of those surviving the deceased. The Lisu believe that a well-conducted funeral is necessary for the soul of the deceased to complete his or her journey successfully. During a Lisu traditional funeral ceremony, a shaman would talk to the dead in a singsong style, recalling the good work done in his/her life, telling or guiding him/her


to take the journey. Items given to the dead as gifts, such as silver chips and garments for the journey to the next world, also depict Lisu beliefs. The gifts are meant to assist the dead to reach his/her destination, where the Lisu believe they came from. The silver chips are to bribe the evil spirits on his/her way to complete the journey. Since the Lisu believe that a man has nine souls while a woman has only seven, seven pieces of silver are put in the mouth of a dead woman while a man receives nine pieces; that is, one piece for each soul. Like the Mundurucú who use one word for shadow and reflection as well as soul (Murphy 1989, p. 195), the Lisu’s terms for these three things are: (5)

o

like/shadow attach/attachment2 ‘shadow or reflection’

ha

like/shadow ‘soul’

ascend

The ha (‘soul or spirit’) appears to be developed from likeness; that is, likeness of something. The ha (‘spirit’ or ‘soul’) becomes a ni (‘ghost’ or ‘spirit’), once the object to which the ha (‘soul’) attached is taken away or disappears. Therefore, the Lisu ni (‘ghost’ or ‘spirit’) has come all the way from the ha (‘spirit’ or ‘soul’; ⬍ha ‘soul’ ⬍o ‘shadow’ or ‘reflection’). The ha (‘soul’) of a person becomes ni (‘spirit’) after the death of that person. So hik uani (‘house guardian spirits’) were the many ha (‘souls’) of the deceased ancestors. It also seems that the Lisu traditional religion is a mixture of totemism and animism. Traditional folk lore such as the Lisu funeral songs Shingot Dengot by Yang (1987) written in the New3 Lisu script reveals that death and diseases were created by totemic animals such as the mirmamot (‘old female monkey’) or haqmamul (‘old female rat’). It is obvious to the Lisu people that the creators of disease and death were certain animals, such as the female monkey or the female rat with supernatural powers. And the creators of the negative part of life were female orientated!


There are no exclusive symbols such as man-made idols in the Lisu traditional religion. Like many groups of mountain minority people in Southeast Asia, a common feature for the Lisu primary religion is that each home has an altar for the house guardian spirits or ancestral spirits erected in the upper corner of the middle room or sitting room. A village guardian house or place like the apamohi (‘Old Grandfather House’) of the Thailand Lisu (Hutheesing, 1990, p. 39) was also a part of most Lisu villages in the past, but very few are still kept in Lisu communities in China today.

Present Lisu beliefs With the coming of Christianity at the beginning of the twentieth century, this new religion quickly overtook the traditional religion and its many live sacrifices to the spirits. Christianity has the Bible and the Ten Commandments and some rules such as ‘do not smoke, do not drink,’ which are the same as the Lisu standards of morality and which also enhance its economy. Lisu who practice the traditional religion use a lot of livestock for offering sacrifices. They also spend a lot of their harvested grain for brewing home liquor. Once they become Christians they stop these practices. Over 80 percent of the Lisu population in China have become Christians. On the other hand, because singing folk songs and dancing folk dances are no longer encouraged among Christian Lisu, the traditions and culture are disappearing quickly from their lives. The language, with its various dialects, is becoming more and more similar among Lisu Christians because the Lisu Bible is used and understood among them, not only in church services but also in daily life. Although I was born into a Christian family, sometimes things which happened at home confused me because of their nonChristian aspect. On one occasion, my father caught a rooster and fed it with his saliva speaking to it with words I did not understand. The next morning no crowing was heard because the rooster was used for a chicken bone divination. Another time, I noticed that all the female adults in the family were in the inner room with my pregnant sisterin-law, and no one was speaking. No one in modern society would ever imagine that my sister-in-law was giving birth to her first child in her own room assisted by my mother and my two elder sisters. Lisu, including many Christian Lisu, believe that the more people are


aware of one’s labor, the harder the delivery becomes. The reason for this is that certain spirits would learn about the birth via human conversation and would then hurt the newborn baby. There was also a time when my father was accidentally shot by my elder brother while hunting. As soon as my wounded father was carried to the bed, my mother prayed to God for his recovery. Barefoot, my elder brother and my elder sister rushed to the local county hospital, about 45 kilometers away from our village, to ask for an ambulance. No ambulance and no doctor was sent. So they went to another Lisu village to call a well-known Lisu n ts ip a (‘herbal man’). When he arrived, the herbal man divided our sitting room into three parts: from the door to the place where the Lisu used to place the altar of house guardian spirits; lower, middle and upper. My father’s bed was near the upper part. Adult females, including my mother and my elder sisters, were not allowed to step on the middle and upper part. I was an exception because I was too young to be counted as a human being to the herbal man. All members except the one (male) who was assigned to feed my father were forbidden to go into the upper part. Every morning, the herbal man would disappear for awhile. When he returned, he would boil some herbs in a pot. First, he would splash the herbal medicine onto the upper part of the room, then give it to my father. I asked him about the purpose of ‘wasting’ the medicine. He said that it was to clean the area. I knew from old people that evil spirits would be attracted to unclean places. Later, I found that the herbal man was from a nihaløsu (‘animist’ or ‘ghost believer’) village. With his miracle herbs and strange behavior and activities, he cured my father, including his broken rib, within two weeks. The details of the herbs are never known to anyone except possibly one of the shaman’s own sons (if he has any). Traditional religion is still mixed to a greater or lesser extent with Christianity, even in actively Christian Lisu communities. The Lisu traditional religion is part of the Lisu social hierarchy, though not yet institutionalized as in other religions. The spirits or ghosts which comprise the religion have the characteristics of human beings; that is, they are satisfied when fed, angered when offended, and so on. Some are greedy so they harm people without reason. Only very few spirits, such as the myt ywusa (‘the god who created the earth’), appear to be merciful. There are countless taboos which should be avoided so as not to offend the spirits, rather than


blessings for the people from the spirits. The Lisu traditional religion is more passive for the Lisu people, because they cannot choose a life without religion.

Gender roles in the Lisu traditional religion Similar to the Thailand Lisu, gender roles in the Lisu communities in China are male superior and female inferior. Women are confined to domestic housework. They are restricted from traditional religious activities which comprise the most important part of Lisu life. This is also true for the spiritual world; that is, benevolent spirits are male and female spirits are malevolent. As the Lisu funeral songs state, again the creators of death were female – the old female monkey or the old female rat. Some vestiges of a matriarchy hierarchy in Lisu history can be traced from traditional stories as well as religious terms. The creator of the earth used to be called wusama (‘goddess’), but today is called wusap a (‘god’; male). According to the traditional Lisu story jizaizai (‘two brothers’), there were two brothers – the younger one was kind-hearted but the elder brother was evil-minded. After a series of events, the elder brother stayed with an old female monkey while his younger brother was with two beautiful girls who he saved from a huge snake. The old female monkey was killed by the younger brother because of her arrogant response to his question about the elder brother’s whereabouts. There are many Lisu traditional stories about the cleverness of Lisu women versus the foolishness of the men, so it would appear that the history of male dominance in Lisu society is relatively recent. Even among the Christian Lisu, we were often told that the Lisu women used to tie their various belts in front rather than on their back as they do now, which strengthened their power over men (Yu, 2004). In order to decrease their power over men, the custom of Lisu women knotting their waist belts was changed from front to back as it is today. In contradistinction, now the Lisu men knot their belts in the front rather than how they used to do, at their back. However, male dominance and female inferior status in Lisu life, particularly in traditional religious activities, has become more obvious. There has never been a female shaman in Lisu traditional religion. There is a term, nimasima (‘evil-minded woman’; literally,


female ghost/female spirit) in the language. But it is simply the opposite term for nip asip a (‘evil-minded man’; male ghost/male spirit). It has little to do with the religious term, nip a or pip a (‘shaman’). The Lisu traditional religion is a patriarchal belief.

Male versus female deities It is possible that the role of the spirits, especially the main spirit, the creator of the earth, was female orientated at an earlier stage (wusama, ‘goddess’ as the Dechang Lisu still use this term). However, except for some folklore such as niduwumami, ‘the story of the ruler over all evil spirits’ as discussed before, the sense of the spirits’ roles being male orientated has been accepted, though not specified. Generally, although most images of various spirits in the Lisu traditional religion appear to be in the form of masculine p a (‘male’), there is no specific image of gods to be presented. Although a non-gendered term such as myt ywusa (‘god who creates the earth’) and wusa (‘god’) are also used in modern Lisu communities, the name of the creator of the earth or world has become wusap a (‘god’; male) in Thailand Lisu (Hutheesing, 1990, p. 46) and Lisu communities in China (Yunnan). The village guardian spirit in Lisu is called apamo (‘Old (paternal) Grandfather’) but never aamo (‘Old (maternal) Grandmother’). This would be because the Lisu believe that a man has nine souls while a woman has only seven. Probably more souls or spirits can handle more responsibilities. Other spirits such as misi (‘hill spirits’) and hik ani (‘house guardian spirits’) are not gendered. On the other hand, the female role is often described as negative in traditional ghost stories; that is, they are evil or harmful. The evil spirits of this world or hell appear mostly as female. Positive functions such as blessings and protections are performed by male spirits or ghosts.

The nip a (‘shaman’) versus the doma (‘witch’) All significant religious ceremonies are conducted by shamans or elder males in the families, villages, and communities. Men are supposed to be stronger than women both physically and spiritually.


A shaman in the Lisu community can only be an adult male, but can never be a female. The terms nip a or pip a (‘shaman’) are male gendered. As discussed before, the nip a (‘shaman’) plays a major role in Lisu traditional religious life. He is the ‘bridge’ between the spirits and human beings. Usually he would also be regarded as having some authority over the village where he lives; this could be extended to surrounding villages if he is well known. Although there is no full time nip a in a Lisu community, a nip a is often needed in every Lisu village. One has to ask for a nip a from another village if there is none in one’s own village. Compared to the nip a or pip a (‘shaman’), the doma (‘witch’) or nisma (‘female master of evil spirits’) is considered to be negative. People believe that she feeds certain evil spirits at home, which she then sends to kill someone she hates by ordering the evil spirit to eat the person’s soul. According to Lu (1999, p. 139), if someone gets sick the next day after dreaming about a certain woman releasing a bee or an eagle into the air, the woman in the dream would be considered a nisma (‘master of evil spirit’) or doma (‘witch’) who is trying to harm that person using evil spirits she has raised. The Lisu consider that the action of killing someone’s soul is immoral or very inhuman, so the one who is presumed to be the nisma would never admit it. The judgment of the nisma (‘master of evil spirits’) in Lisu is cruel. The process is that both the accused and the accuser have to pick up a rock from the bottom of a huge wok full of boiling water. Before picking up the rock, the accuser would curse the accused in mind: someone is nisma, she killed someone’s soul. I now pray to you, mighty spirit, let her hand be burnt for punishment. On the other hand, the accused would also curse the accuser in her prayer: I am not a nisma, I pray that you mighty spirit would protect my hand from being burnt to show my innocence and your justice. The one whose hand is burnt loses the case. The winner not only takes the wok but also receives compensation such as pigs, goats, and chickens. The loser also has to give the judge two knives, axes, and hoes. Often, instead of a similar punishment, some Lisu would visit the presumed doma (‘witch’) to ask for ‘medicine’ from her to cure the sick. Perhaps the woman’s role as a doma has originated from male jealousy of the woman’s knowledge of traditional herbs to cure certain diseases.


As seen in Durrenberger (1989), the shaman said to the spirit that ‘a sow has gone to the forest to farrow (give birth) and not returned; someone is sick and the people need to know what to do about it.’ From the context, we know that the sick person was a woman. It is clear how a woman was belittled before a spirit. Women are usually not allowed to perform religious ceremonies, though minor activities such as foretelling, soul wandering, or calling back wandering souls, are often conducted by females, mostly by the mother of a sick child or a wife of a sick husband, which are congruent with their roles as mothers and wives. It seems that the inferior status of women versus the superior status of men in Lisu traditional religious activities is obvious, even today. The spirits may favor men because they are of the same gender, and so they give preference to men over women. Religion and taboo are closely related in the Lisu community. Traditional religion is the direct reason for many taboos among the Lisu. There are countless prohibitions in Lisu society that relate to the spirits. Like different gods in many other religions, the spirits in the Lisu religion appear to despise women; zamzat io (‘women are despised’). A woman is supposed to dress and to behave properly. Women should wear simple, neat clothes. They should not wear colorful garments, especially when going through valleys or traveling during the night, or evil spirits could follow them to harm their family members. According to my mother, women always had to tidy themselves by rolling up their back and front aprons and other decorations when traveling through valleys, forests, and creeks where spirits dwell. During my mother’s time and the time before her generation, when traditional religion played a crucial role in Lisu daily life; a Flowery Lisu woman’s dress was not allowed to be made as colorful as it is today, for instance, because it was offensive to the spirits. To avoid offence to the spirits, a woman should not talk or laugh loudly at any time. Women have more prohibitions than men. They are never allowed to attend an offering of sacrifice. A woman should not touch hunting tools, because it could offend the hunting spirit. She cannot approach the altar where the family ancestral spirits live. A pregnant woman’s activity is even more restricted. People avoid approaching a pregnant woman and exclude her from a lot of activities and events, such as gathering, making homemade wine, building houses, and


marketing. The husband of a pregnant woman is also not favored in the spirits’ eyes, due to his connection with his wife’s pregnancy. It is almost impossible for him to be invited to join any activities by his male fellows. A pregnant woman’s husband would never be invited to join events such as hunting. My father, who was a very famous hunter in my village, once told me that all the hunters of a hunting team were attacked and severely bitten by a wounded tiger. The team blamed all that on the unexpected appearance of a man whose wife was pregnant at that time. According to my father, that man accidentally jumped over the blood of the severely wounded tiger on the road, and angered its spirit. It seems that the spirits don’t like women, especially pregnant women. Although it is not legalized as in other religions such as Hinduism and Islam, it is obvious that the gender roles in the Lisu traditional religion is male orientated.

Language use in the Lisu religion The Lisu language is the mother tongue of the Lisu people. It can be categorized into three types: language used in daily life (which changes according to time and place), language of traditional oral literature (rather stable but also changing according to different generations of retelling), and the religious chanting, which is the most classic and hardest to understand, and is not allowed to change with time or users. The Lisu traditional religion was and is still transferred to generations through shamans performing rituals chanting religious language. The Lisu term for ‘language’ or ‘word’ is o. But in religious language, o, especially those of communicating between this world and hell or the spiritual world, are often interpreted as songs. The reason is that the conversation between a man and a spirit is conducted through the shaman speaking to the spirit using standardized religious words and genre with a singsong style. This is also the reason why there are so many o (‘funeral songs’; literally, ‘death language’) and offering songs, such as Ancient Songs of Heavenly Worship (Mu, Han and Yu, 1999), which are used only in traditional religious ceremonies. Only the shaman was and still is allowed to use the third language when communicating with spirits or conducting religious ceremonies. The following discussion of Lisu religious language is based on the documented written works just mentioned and orally transferred terms among the Lisu.


Documented religious language Collections of the religious language of the Lisu people are seen mostly in three important books since 1987. The first work is Shingot Deqngot (‘funeral songs’), collected by Yang Chunmao (1987), a native speaker of Lisu and a linguist at the Yunnan Nationalities University. It contains a total of 12 songs, all in the New Lisu script. The second is 傈僳族丧葬歌 (Lisu funeral songs) collected by Hou and Gui-Hu with others (1995). Both were also Lisu speakers. It is presented in IPA with Chinese translations. However, the work appears to have some repetition of Yang (1987). The third book Ancient Songs of Heavenly Worship consists of 17 songs originally written by Wang Renpo, a Lisu shaman of the ninth generation in Yezhi, Weixi Lisu Autonomous County, Yunnan Province, later collected by a team supervised by Mu Yuzhang of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences between the 1980s and the early 1990s. According to the Chinese translation of Wang Renpo’s autobiography in Mu, Han and Yu (1999), Wang Renpo learnt how to practice offering sacrifices, driving spirits, and fortune telling from various shamans, nip a and pip a. He was able to practice these duties alone when he was just twelve. Wang Renpo created a Lisu script in 1925. Later, using his own script, he carved the 17 worship songs on 12 bamboo books or planks which have been collected and published, entitled Ancient Songs of Heavenly Worship (Mu, Han and Yu, 1999). Wang Renpo also used this script to discipline his disciples. One of his disciples, Guang Naba, sang some of the ancient songs during the collecting of the Ancient Songs of Heavenly Worship in 1983, which were lost from his carved planks. Obviously language used in the Lisu traditional religion was first created and standardized by the shamans, and transferred between shamans. Here, I provide a comparison between language used in daily life and religious ceremonies using part of one of Wang Renpo’s worship songs, p up ak u (‘pray to the ancestors’):

Religious language (6) mo

zo

ona

a

ni

do

old yet so evil spirit appear ‘Evil spirits were described in the tradition of our ancestors’


a

ni

ona

xo

ua

o

evil spirit so lead help report ‘It was said that evil spirits caught away souls of human beings’ Interpretation of (6) into daily language (7) any

p up a

li

ga

a

ni

ancient

ancestor tradition

ale

be

how

ADV

do

ama b

LOC evil

ghost

p m ta

o

appear NOM say lease existence DEC ‘Evil spirits were described in the tradition of our ancestors,’ a ni

na

ts o

ha

evil

TOP

human

soul lead run

su

ghost a

xo

e e

go

a

assist

o

NOM COP RPT ‘It was said that evil spirit caught away souls of human being.’ Although the religious language is used mostly by shamans, it is also understood among the elders. Some usages of religious language are also known to laymen, though they are considered to be taboo.

Orally transferred religious language The world of the dead, or hell, is called madzimami (⬍ma ‘prefix: spirit/evil’ ⫹ dzi ‘raw/vicious’ ⫹ ma ⫹ mi ‘land/earth’) or amy (⬍ a ‘prefix: evil/wrong’ ⫹ my ‘place/country/world’). The prefixes ma and a play a crucial role in the language used in traditional religious ceremonies, especially when communicating with the world of the dead. Prescriptions about when and how to use language in various contexts of religion are clearly specified. Since the Lisu traditional funeral is the most important part of Lisu traditional religion, I shall discuss language use through a case study of a Dechang Lisu funeral. One night during my fieldtrip in Dechang in Sichuan Province, I asked my language consultant, Ms Xiong, if she could say something about Dechang Lisu traditional religion. She


explained to me how the whole procedure of a funeral is conducted. A proper funeral is given only to adult people. Informing relatives and villages of someone’s death, is called g (literally, ‘dead run’). The dead would be washed: mots (‘wash a dead body’; ‘body’ in daily Lisu is gode ) by her/his daughters and sons. The water used for washing the dead should by purchased from the ji ani (‘water spirit’) by dropping some silver chips into the bottom of a well. After washing, the dead would be dressed with mot ø, which is called mot økua. The word ‘clothes’ in Lisu is p its but for the dead, the term is mot øslash; (‘dead body wrap’). The clothes should not be an even number – they have to be an odd number. Then, if it is female, the corpse is placed on a bed close to the left side of the sitting room. A male corpse is placed at the right side, where the altar for house guardian spirit is set. Silver chips are put in the mouth of the corpse, seven for female and nine for male, according to the number of souls. In modern Dechang, it is not a shaman but the family who would find a mamii (‘day for hell’) for burying the dead. The dead would be kept several days until a proper mamii was chosen. After choosing a mamii, the family would invite a nip a or pip a (‘shaman’) to conduct the funeral ceremony. First, the nip a would inform the dead about the arrival of her/his relatives and their gifts ma ua (‘animals for the dead’). The announcement of the arrival of the relatives and children is called ts. One by one, the shaman names person and his/her kinship relation with the dead in mauape (‘talking in language of the dead’). As mentioned before, the shaman’s mauape is carried out by way of conversation: ma nu za (8) t e this CL 2sg son ‘This is your eldest son’ ma

o

su

bɯ

big

i

nu

t

go

have other borrow SQ 2sg O give ‘He borrowed to give you though he has nothing to give away.’

NEG

A mak a (‘basket for the dead’) without a sealed bottom would be woven to carry some symbolic supplies, such as grains and tools, for her/his life in hell or that world. On the funeral day, the coffin would


be carried by the sons of the dead person, followed by the shaman, then one by one from closest to distant relatives, heading to the wilderness. Arriving at the chosen place, the shaman throws a knife to the ground to find the right place for digging a grave. Before beginning, an image of the dead is made using paper. The nip a (‘shaman’) then beats the dead (ludɯ; ‘beating the dead’), seven times if it is a female and nine times if it is a male. At the same time talking to the dead by saying: (9) ua

ma

ti

1sg 2sg O NEG ‘It is not I who beat you,’

beat

nu

nu

p u t

t

nu ti

pa

nu

2sg forefather 2sg ancestor 2sg ‘It is your ancestor who beats you.’

O

beat

Traditionally, the Lisu believe that the dead does not realize that they already have died until he/she experiences the ludɯ. After burial, the children of the dead feed the soul of the dead at home using a pot, which is called mamihy (‘care for hell/dead’). Daughters and their extended family also feed the mami (‘the soul to be sent to the spiritual world’) at their home. Before having every meal, the mami is fed by being called, using the right kinship term such as amaodzadzal (‘mother, come and eat’). Usually, the mamihy lasts three months. In the Chinese calendar, November is called bɯg ha (‘the month of sending away the soul of the deceased’) by the Dechang Lisu. A bɯg i (‘day to send the soul of a dead’) would be chosen in that month to send the bɯ (‘the soul of the deceased’) away. Again, relatives and families would bring animals ma ua for the spirit as gifts for his/her trip to madzimami (‘the world of the dead/hell’). The gifts are to bribe the evil spirits on the way to that world. Some ma ua (‘animals for the dead’) would be slaughtered to feed the soul so that she/he would have strength to arrive in the madzimami (‘the world of the dead/ hell’). Some of the animals, usually goats, would be freed into the forest to provide for the future needs of the dead. The shaman then tells the newly sent bɯ (‘the soul of the deceased’) ‘tip otilit aji (do not turn back’).


After sending the bɯ away, there is a traditional counter-clockwise dance, and a song about how a woman fed her children by digging wild potatoes, to teach the dead person and to comfort the family. It is called uamduga i (‘dance of digging potatoes’). Normal dances are clockwise. The prefix ma is widely used by the non-Christian Lisu but the prefix a is not used often in Dechang. It is used frequently to curse, even among Christian Lisu. When I was a child, I heard young people and teenagers, mostly males, cursing each other: (10) a

k

du

e

evil die die become NOM DEC ‘one who should be killed by the evil spirit’ a

ni

hy

si

evil ghost ‘evil spirit’

unly

spirit

ma

ma

si

hell

spirit

ni

hell ghost ‘evil ghost’

My mother, who was raised according to the traditional religion, often criticized my brothers if she heard them using these terms. She said that it would be very dangerous if such things happened in the old days (before Christianity). But she did not explain why. She was a very serious Christian, avoiding use of any such terms. That is why I did not realize how dangerous it was to use these taboo words – because I did not understand them. I started learning about the language used in the Lisu traditional religion when I did my MA between 1991 and 1994. But it was not until January 1999 when I went to Ninglang for fieldwork, that I realized that the deepest as well as the richest part of the Lisu culture and Lisu history is hidden in the religious language.

Conclusion Lisu traditional religion consists of animism, ancestral worship, and spirit worship. The Lisu believe that every creature, whether living or


not, has its own spirit. There are no exclusive symbols such as manmade idols representing the Lisu traditional religion. Due to the constraints of modern Lisu life and the domestic economy, constant contact with the wilderness, including the possibility of meeting various spirits there, has decreased. Also, because of the availability of medical consultation and purchasable medication, animal sacrifice has lessened. Offering to the house guardian spirits on various occasions, such as celebrating festivals, house building, farming, and so on, has become more common. As a result, the many uncontrollable spirits of the wilderness have been gradually replaced by house guardian spirits. The souls of deceased ancestors, especially those of heroic ancestors, would be regarded as having the power not only to protect the families and clans, but also to bless their descendants. That is why the Lisu set altars to feed their ancestral souls as their guardian spirits. The Lisu traditional religion believes that the souls of deceased ancestors have become their hik ani (‘house guardian spirits’) as well as apamo (‘village guardian spirits’; paternal). Like many mountain minority people groups in Southeast Asia, the Lisu also have an altar for ancestral spirits erected in the upper corner of the middle room or sitting room of the house. The apamohi (‘Old Grandfather House’), like that of the Thailand Lisu (Hutheesing, 1990, p. 39), was also set in most Lisu villages, but very few are still kept in modern Lisu communities in China. A shaman is always a man who is at the centre of the Lisu traditional religion. He inherited this office from his forefathers who were also shamans. The process of becoming a shaman can be achieved by a novice shaman learning from a mature shaman. His duty is foretelling, offering sacrifices, and calling back or driving away spirits. A nip a or pip a plays the role of spiritual mediator between human beings and the spiritual world. He is still very important and respected among traditional Lisu communities, because the Lisu still gain knowledge about the past through shamans. Even today, traditional religious ceremonies such as communicating with the dead during a funeral are conducted seriously by the shamans. Lisu traditional religion is male orientated. Spirits who protect or bless human beings appear to be male. Like different gods in some other religions, the evil spirits in the Lisu religion appear to despise women. Traditional religion is the direct reason for taboos among the


Lisu. There are countless prohibitions in Lisu society that relate to the spirits. Women have more prohibitions than men. All significant religious ceremonies are conducted by men, mostly by shamans. So the male role in the spiritual world and among human beings is of superior status. This leaves the female gender of spirits and humans as inferior; female spirits function negatively in the spiritual world, and women play a passive role in the world of human beings in the Lisu traditional religion. Language use in the Lisu religion has a special register. Communication between a man and a spirit is conducted through the shamans using special religious words and genre with a singsong style. It is also known by elders. The Lisu religious language is understood and transferred mainly among the users themselves.

Abbreviations COP ⫽ copula; D ⫽ dative; DC ⫽ Dechang; DEC ⫽ declarative; EVID ⫽ Evidential; LOC ⫽ Locative; NEG ⫽ negative; NJ ⫽ Nujiang; NOM ⫽ nominalizer; O ⫽ object marker; PL ⫽ plural marker; PROHB ⫽ prohibitive; RPT ⫽ Report; S ⫽ subjective; SB ⫽ Shibacha. 1sg ⫽ first-person singular; 2sg ⫽ second-person singular; 3pl ⫽ third-person plural.

Notes 1. I would like to thank my colleague, Dr. Marion Chang, for her helpful edits of an earlier draft of this chapter. 2. The o used here is derived from the morpheme no (‘attach’). 3. New Lisu is a writing system for the Lisu created by Chinese government linguists from the National Research Institute of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences from 1956 to 1958. It uses Roman letters, while tones are indicated by postscript letters.

Works cited Bradley, D. (1994). A Dictionary of the Northern Dialect of Lisu (China and Southeast Asia).Canberra: Pacific Linguistics, C-126. Bradley, D. (2003). Lisu. In G. Thurgood and R. LaPolla (eds), The Sino-Tibetan Languages. London: Routledge, pp. 222–35. Durrenberger, E. P. (1989). Lisu Religion. Illinois: Northern Illinois Unversity. Hou, X. and Gui, H. (1995). 傈僳族丧葬歌 [Lisu Funeral Songs]. Kunming: Yunnan National Publishing House.


Hutheesing, O. K. (1990). Emerging Sexual Inequality Among the Lisu of Northern Thailand : The Waning of Dog and Elephant Repute. Leiden and New York: E. J. Brill. Murphy, R. F. (1989). Cultural and Social Anthropology: An Overture. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Mu, Y., Han and Yu (1999). Ancient Songs of Heavenly Worship. Kunming: Yunnan National Publishing House. Shabadi, K. (2005). Speaking our gendered selves: Hinduism and the Indian woman. In A. Jule (ed.), Gender and the Language of Religion. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Si, L. (1999). Lisu zu wenhua lun [A Study on Lisu Culture]. Kunming: Yunnan Nationality Publishing House. Siqinggaowa and Li, M. (1994). Lisu zu fengsu zhi [Lisu Traditions]. Beijing: Central University of National Publishing House. Song, E. et al. (1981). Lisuzu shehui lishi diaocha [Fieldwork on Lisu Society and History]. Kunming: Yunnan People’s Publishing House. Wang, H. (1987). Lisu zu [The Lisu Nationality]. Beijing: Nationality Publishing House. Yang, C. (1987). Shingot deqngot [Funeral Hymns]. Kunming: Yunnan National Publishing House. Yang Y. et al. (1983). Lisu zu jianshi [A Brief History of the Lisu Nationality]. Kunming: Kunnan People’s Publishing House. Yu, D. (2004). Aspects of Lisu Phonology and Grammar. PhD Thesis. Melbourne: La Trobe University.

9 Calm and Humble In and Through Evangelical Christianity: A Chinese Immigrant Couple in Toronto1 Huamei Han

Researchers have observed that immigration often increases religiosity among the religious and leads to conversion among the non-religious (Li, 2000; Yang, 1999), that ethnolinguistic immigrant groups tend to become more religious in their adopted countries and embrace more conservative religions than the mainstream, and that old and new religions are booming among these minority groups (Carnes and Yang, 2004; Yang and Ebaugh, 2001). Academics and journalists have noticed that evangelical Christianity is gaining popularity in the developed countries (Bramadat, 2000, 2005; Jule, 2005), but particularly among immigrants in the developed and among the mass in the developing world (Bergner, 2006; Hallum, 1996; Wakin, 2004). Some researchers find that Korean American males compensate for their loss of status by gaining status in church (Kurien, 2004), while issues of language (Woods, 2004), race (Kim, 2004; Park, 2004), gender and generation (Yang, 2004) are found to either unite or divide some minority churches in Australia and the United States. The emerging research on minority religions has shown us that there are complex interplays between immigration, race, gender, language, and religion, which may influence individuals and groups differently. While most studies on minority religions zoom in on what is going on at the church or temple, I see a need to go beyond the walls of religious institutions to better understand the rapid growth of certain groups practicing conservative religions, and a need 196

Evangelism and Chinese Immigrants in Toronto 197

to examine the lived experiences of settlement to understand immigrants’ religious beliefs and practices. Based on a three-year ethnography of second language learning and immigrant settlement (Han, 2007), this chapter explores how settlement, language, and religion intersect in the context of globalization. It documents how a young couple were gendered in the economic boom in China, and how their process of settling down in English Canada as skilled immigrants not only further gendered them, but also made them become evangelical Christians. It analyzes how everyday linguistic practices constitute social processes of reproducing, and sometimes contesting, existing social relations based on language, gender, religion, and ethnicity, among other categorizations, and concerns the consequences for individual immigrants and the larger society. In what follows, I will introduce the theoretical and methodological framework in the first section. The second section will sketch the couple’s gendered trajectories from China to Canada, to contextualize their baptism at an English-speaking evangelical church, which will be discussed in the third section. The fourth section will focus on micro-ethnographic analysis of talk, specifically turn-taking, to analyze how their religious identities are constructed in and through gendered linguistic practices. The final section will conclude with a discussion of immigration and settlement as gendered processes and its impacts on immigrant men and women.

A poststructuralist approach to gender and language This chapter mainly builds on gender studies in the field of second and foreign language teaching and learning, in which gender has been acknowledged as mediating language learning in and out of the classroom (Ehrlich, 1997; Norton and Pavlenko, 2004; Pavlenko, 2004; Pavlenko, Blackledge, Piller, and Teutsch-Dwyer, 2001; Sunderland, 2000). This line of research has found that it is immigrant women who do not always have access to educational resources (Burnaby and Cumming, 1992; Goldstein, 1997, 2001; Norton, 2000; Pierce, 1995), or risk their employment by learning the dominant language (Goldstein 1997); and it is working-class boys (Heller, 1999; Toohey, 1998, 2000) and immigrant girls (Jule, 2004) who are often silenced in classrooms. These findings indicate that


individuals are not only positioned in terms of gender, but also in terms of ethnicity, age, class, immigrant status, national origin, and (dis)ability (Pavlenko, 2004). This view is in line with feminist poststructuralism (cf. Kramsch and von Hoene, 2001) which challenges the view that gender is a biological given or an essentialized variable; instead, it sees gender as a system of social relations and discursive practices, and engages with full individuals who are positioned in multiple ways. The second concept important to this chapter is ‘language,’ which traditionally is seen as an autonomous system or a set of communicative skills out there, and thus is equally accessible to everyone who wishes to learn it. Poststructuralist scholars see language as a form of symbolic capital, or resource, accumulated under different social economic circumstances, and different linguistic products are valued differently in the market in accordance with the social, economic, and political power of the speakers (Bourdieu, 1986, 1991). As a resource, the dominant language is unequally distributed, and some groups will have to struggle over gaining access to it. Linguistic practices as gendered, and the gendered inequality in access to material and symbolic resources, including linguistic resources, are particularly relevant to this chapter. Data for this chapter came from participant observation of, logbook entries by, interviews with, and relevant documents collected from a couple between May 2003 and May 2006. I shall call them Grace Zhang2 and Timothy Sang. I also interviewed people who were influential in their settlement (for more detail, see Han 2007). I used the micro ethnographic approach to analyze interactions (Gumperz, 1982a, 1982b). In the next sections, I will first trace Grace and Timothy’s settlement trajectories before examining their language practices and identity (re)construction at one discursive space, the church where they received baptism.

Gendering Grace and Timothy: from China to Canada Grace and Timothy’s gendered life trajectories and experiences, from China to Canada, shaped their social or public identities as well as their private identities at home. These trajectories and experiences have to be understood in the context of globalization. On the one


hand, from the mid-1980s Canada changed its immigration policy to attract investors from Hong Kong and then since the mid-1990s increased the quota to recruit skilled immigrants to meet its capital and human resource needs respectively (Wang and Lo, 2000). On the other hand, an educated middle class has emerged in the economic boom in Mainland China which started in the 1980s. Many of this new middle class have the will to leave for a First World country, can meet the Canadian immigration selection criteria, and can afford the expensive immigration process (Li, 2005). At the same time, the economic boom has also restructured the family dynamics among the educated in China: the husbands often take the risk of doing private business or working for foreign-invested companies, while the wives often hold more steady, state-sector jobs to balance the family responsibilities (Salaff, Greve, and Xu, 2001, 2002). Gendered professional paths and identities in China Grace and Timothy grew up in the economic boom in China. Graduated from universities in the same city away from their home provinces in China, they were from very different family backgrounds and had different career opportunities. Being the youngest son born to illiterate peasant parents in a village in 1973, Timothy lived in school dormitories from the age of 12, and passed exam after exam to major in computer science. In a masculine profession of high demand, Timothy was hired by a state-owned research institute to work in Beijing upon graduation and was granted a Beijing Resident Permit.3 A year later, Timothy switched to working as a network engineer in a large joint-venture, and later a foreign-invested telecommunication company, for four years altogether. He thus had some opportunity to work and receive training in English, and learned from his colleagues about immigration to Canada. With his English test score, Timothy met Canada’s immigration selection criteria as a ‘principle applicant’ under the ‘independent immigrant’ category (Citizenship and Immigration Canada (CIC), 2002), a system which favors young males in natural science and engineering (McLaren and Dyck, 2004). Grace was born to a middle-class family in a large industrial city in 1977. As the older daughter, she learned how to cook and do housework, and followed her parents’ advice to pursue accounting, a feminized profession. Grace had to go back to her home city after graduation, and worked as an assistant accountant for a large-size


state-owned enterprise for a year and half. When she joined Timothy in Beijing when they married, Grace could not find work in accounting without a Beijing Resident Permit. She worked as a secretary for half a year, and studied English while waiting for her immigration visa. Grace became a ‘dependent spouse’ under the Canadian immigration criteria. From China to Canada, institutions (i.e., family, school, and workplace) and state policies (residential control in China and immigrant selection in Canada) played major roles in gendering Grace’s and Timothy’s experiences and social identities, which subsequently influenced their co-construction of their private identities. They achieved a certain balance between their private and public identities in China: Grace had more authority in their family matters since Timothy knew little about family life and housework; while Timothy had more economic and symbolic power in his public identity and contributed more to their family finances, Grace had a profession and later a white-collar job. Grace’s relatively more powerful private identity was reflected in one of her turn-taking behaviors: she sometimes took Timothy’s turns in informal gatherings among friends, which will be discussed in more detail in the section on Gendered linguistic practices: private identities and linguistic practices. However, during their settlement in Canada, Grace and Timothy’s social identities would face differential challenges, which would lead to some conflicts. Gendered settlement trajectories: Toronto Institutional rules regarding credential recognition, foreign work experience and English as the language of power further gendered Grace and Timothy in Canada. Their desire to access English linguistic resources first led them to church, and their subsequent difficulties in settlement played a major role in leading to their religious conversion. I will first sketch Grace’s and Timothy’s settlement trajectories with a focus on work, then briefly discuss the role of language in leading them to church. Upon their landing in Toronto in November 2001, Grace and Timothy knew nobody. They needed, and wanted, to improve their English, particularly in speaking, to qualify for skilled jobs, but found that there were few opportunity to interact in English in their daily life. They also found that accounting was a self-regulated profession


requiring Canadian credentials (Goldberg, 2005; PROMPT, 2004), which made Grace an ineligible job candidate, while Timothy would need Canadian work experience to find work in his field. They attended the Language Instruction for Newcomers to Canada (LINC) program funded by Canadian government, but did not find it useful. They left LINC and turned to the Senior Tutors’ program, a free, weekly English conversation program offered by Christian retirees to evangelize international students and new immigrants. They searched for possibilities of finding skilled work. Facing many difficulties in settlement, Grace and Timothy coordinated who needed to work, who could study when, and for how long, especially when their savings ran thin after about a year. Timothy first volunteered in order to accumulate Canadian experience; three months later he lost hope of finding work in his field amidst the post-9/11 economic slow-down and the high-tech ‘bubble’ burst. He studied English for four months to write a TOEFL exam to qualify for graduate school application, and then worked menial jobs for over half a year while waiting for his admission. When he was laid off after SARS broke out in Toronto, and did not gain admission to graduate studies, Timothy worked two shifts of telemarketing everyday, and in September 2003 changed to direct sales, knocking on doors seven days a week. Timothy’s sales job later became the major source of their family income and paid the down payment for their first house in the summer of 2005. Because of the non-recognition of her foreign credentials and her relatively low proficiency in spoken English, Grace first enrolled in an accounting program at a college and later worked part-time as a store clerk. She then had problem finding accounting work. When she finally found an accounting clerk job at a small factory, it paid nine dollars an hour without any benefits. She later switched to direct sales with church members’ support, and started doing well in several months. However, Grace had to scramble to find another junior level accounting job to earn a small but steady income when Timothy’s sales job experienced a setback after they bought the house. In Table 9.1, I sketch their settlement trajectories along the timeline, and include their involvement in the church in the last row. I highlight time and spaces that are important for this chapter. The settlement process sketched above bonded Grace and Timothy as a family financially and emotionally, and in a gendered way. In

202

Table 9.1 Grace’s and Timothy’s settlement trajectories Dec 01– Jan 02

Feb 02– April 02

May 02– Sept 02

Timothy

LINC English classes

Volunteering

Grace

LINC English classes

Church related activities

Occasional visits to a Chinese church

Sept 02– Dec 02

Dec 02– April 03

May 03– Aug 03

Sept 03– March 04

Studying Five menial TOEFL jobs to apply for graduate studies

Telemarketing

Door-to-door sales Experienced a setback in spring 2005; and Recovered at the end of 2005

Applying for college

Morningside College Dec 2002, had her Chinese degree evaluated to an equivalence of a Canadian college diploma

Morningside college Job search

Senior Tutors’ program (weekly until April 03)

Green Meadow Christian Community Assembly Received baptism in December 2002

Store clerk; Volunteering; Job search

April 04– Oct 04

Acct’g clerk at a small factory

Oct 04– May 05

Direct sales

Upper Canada Mandarin Community Church (mainly participating in the English congregation)

June 05– May 06

Acct’g clerk, 1 year contract with a large company


struggling to settle as a team, Timothy increasingly took on the more demanding and unstable jobs and became ‘the head of the house’ in Christian terms; while Grace increasingly took on the role of a helper in terms of their family finance, and took care of most of the work at home since Timothy was busy working. The settlement process thus organized them into a more traditional mode of division of labour between husband and wife in and out of the family, and further gendered them. This settlement process also led Grace and Timothy first to church, and then to religious conversion later, in which language played an important role: legitimate English spoken by the church leaders first lured them to church, and then linguistic practices in the form of extensive informal interactions gave them a sense of integration (see detailed discussion in Han, forthcoming). Green Meadow Community Christian Assembly (‘Green Meadow’ hereafter) is a small nondenominational evangelical Christian church led by Pastor Peter and three other ‘Members of the Executive Board’, all are of Chinese descent, born in Southeast Asia and grew up in Canada. So are the three wives and a girlfriend. According to Pastor Peter, Green Meadow had difficulties attracting ‘local Canadians’ in its first year, which prompted him to drive a van to the Senior Tutors’ program to ‘pick up those who wanted to learn more on English’, including Grace and Timothy, to attend his English services (Transcripts, 19–06–2003). However, it took more than English and friendship to convert Grace and Timothy.

Evangelical Christianity as an interpretive frame: settlement difficulties and religious conversion Grace and Timothy told me that it was a natural transition for them from learning English to learning the Bible, and then to receiving baptism. However, my formal and informal interviews and observations with them over three years suggest that their traumatic settlement experiences contributed to their religious awakening and conversion. Indeed, mapping out the events on their trajectories (see Table 9.1) helps to better understand their conversion. Grace and Timothy went to Green Meadow intensively in September 2002 after Timothy lost hope of finding a computer job, finished writing a TOEFL exam, and started doing menial jobs.


Timothy recalled in an interview: 1 T:

考啊考啊考到九月份-考完了- 考完之后呢-一考完之后我就去打工了然后打工嘛就不停地换工作 - 先干麦当劳嘛 - 干了接近 -不到一个月最后换到一个电子厂- 这个电子厂我干得时间比较长- 干了接近半年-

… Study study and study – I studied until September. As soon as I finished writing TOEFL, I went to do a menial job. Then I kept changing jobs – I first worked at the McDonald’s – for about – almost a month – finally I changed to an electronic factory where I worked for quite a long time – for almost half a year2 HM: 啊Ah3 T:

在这个电子厂呢就一直干到今年四月分-

I worked until the last April at this electronic factory4 HM: 啊 – OKAh – OK5 T:

在这期间呢- 最重要的就是去教堂- 就是业余的时间就是全部放在教堂上-

During this period, the most important thing was to go to church – we spent all the spare time at the church6 HM: hmh7 T:

- 因为那时候要解决信仰问题嘛 - 要解决信仰问题-

-because we needed to solve the belief problem then8 HM: hmh- hmh 9 T:

-终于在圣诞节前把信仰问题解决了-

-finally, we solved the belief problem before Christmas [2002] (Transcripts, 04–07–2003) Much later Timothy revealed that he worked five short-lived jobs between September 2002 and April 2003 (Fieldnotes, 09-10-2004), as


he briefly mentioned in turn #1. It was ‘during this period’ that they ‘spent all the spare time at the church’ (#5) and ‘needed to solve the belief problem’ (#7). They were baptized before Christmas 2002 (#9). Behind Timothy’s narrative was the lived experience of doing menial work and the continuous physical and psychological torment. Timothy had a straight and upward path in China as a network engineer, and travelled all over China, staying in five-star hotels. It was a stark contrast to working on the production line in an electronic factory in Scarborough owned by an earlier Chinese immigrant. The symbolic loss in terms of social status, self-worth, dignity, and the pride of a newly wed husband who was supposed to support the family, tormented Timothy. Much later I learned that, within his first year in Toronto, that was by November 2002 when he settled down at the Chinese electronic factory, Timothy had lost over 20 pounds (Fieldnotes, 09–10–2005). Similarly, Grace enrolled in an accounting program at a college to obtain Canadian credentials, but found the English classes focused on grammar and format, and punished any deviation from the norm. In the fall of 2002, Grace found out that, because of a systemic discrepancy between credit transfer at her college and at its umbrella association the Certified General Accountants’ (CGA) Association, her bachelor’s degree could be transferred to an equivalent Canadian college diploma at the CGA Association. This meant that Grace had not even needed to go to college in the first place. The difficulties in navigating the institutional rules alienated Grace. Going to church might have helped her to come to terms with the sense of being lost. Therefore, while learning English was the initial lure for Grace and Timothy to go to Green Meadow and the friendliness of church people made them feel integrated, the trauma they experienced in settlement seemed to have played a significant part in their need to seek a new interpretative frame to understand the incomprehensible immigration and settlement experiences. Evangelical Christianity offered an interpretive frame for them both. Timothy used ‘God’s plan’ to explain his decision to emigrate, shown below: 1 HM:

那你是怎么想办出国的呢?

So how did you come up with the idea of going abroad?


2 T: 出国是一朋友- 他现在在 Montreal, 是我X X 的同事, 处得停好, 脾气相投. 那时候他已经办下来了. 一起出差经常住一房间.一起聊天嘛,他说你看我出国,你也可以考虑.我说是啊,为什么不考虑呢.当时一个很简单的决定, 就是想改变一下生活. 真是不知道对自己会有什么影响. 回想起来, 那时候真是神在引着我走 - 当时是不知道啊- 那时候根本不知道神呵, 现在想起来那感觉完全不一样了- 但是真是神在引着我走这条路. …

going abroad it was because of a friend – he is in Montreal now – a colleague of mine at XX – we got along very well, had similar tastes – back then his application was approved already – we were on a business trip and stayed in the same room – we were chatting away, and he said ‘look I’m going abroad – you can think about it too –’ so I said ‘right – why not –’ it was a simple decision back then – I just wanted to have some change in life – had no idea what impact it would have on myself at all – thinking back, it was really God who was guiding me back then – of course back then I didn’t know – back then I didn’t know there was a God at all – now when I think of it – the feeling is totally different – but really it was God who was guiding me to this way. … (Transcripts, 26–11–2003; my emphasis) As Timothy indicated, immigration was, for him, a simple decision which turned his life upside down. Notably, in retrospect, he understood the not-well-thought-out idea of immigration as having been guided by God, repeating ‘it was really God who was guiding me back then’ twice, even though he acknowledged that he did not know that there was a God at that time. Similarly, I found many other Chinese immigrants used God’s plan to make sense of their immigration retrospectively (Han, 2007). Both Grace and Timothy used evangelical Christianity to make sense of their settlement, and talked about the importance of finding peace of mind, or calmness, but in slightly different ways. Calm and humble in and through evangelical Christianity Their settlement was filled with hardship and Timothy found peace in evangelical Christianity. He used ‘God’s plan’ to explain his successes, which gave him peace of mind. In the summer of 2003, Timothy convinced Grace to buy a used car, which later set off Timothy’s career change to door-to-door sales and brought about some financial success.


In an interview, when we discussed his car, Timothy said: T:

– God 是,你知道很有意思,当回头一看,你会发现,你走过的路 - 很有意思, 简直不是你能走出来的,就是 God - 当时你可能不知道的 - 但是 God 确实在引你一步一步地往前走.而且走过来以后呢,回头一看, ‘ 哎呀,太 for tunate 了! 你会觉得一切都安排的非常有序, 不会让你觉得心焦. 不会让你觉得心绪不宁啊,碰到什么事,六神无主了,不知道该怎么解决了对不对- 而且 God 最主要也就是给你平安. God is – you know it’s really interesting – when look back, you’ll find that – it’s very interesting – it was impossible that you took the path you actually took – it WAS God – although you might not know it then, God was guiding you step by step. So when you look back, ‘aiya, how fortunate I was!’ You’ll feel that everything has been arranged neatly, so you don’t need to worry, don’t need to feel anxious, and don’t need to lose your sanity when problems come up and you don’t know what to do and how to handle – right? Actually the most important gift from God is peace [of mind]. (Transcripts, 25–09–2003; my emphasis)

Interpreting good things happening in life as God’s plan, Timothy felt assured that no matter what, God would arrange things neatly so there was no need to feel anxious even when things were not going well. When a lot of things were not going well in settlement, this confidence and strong belief in God’s love and God’s plan was instrumental for Timothy to gain peace of mind, something essential in settlement life. Grace also valued the peace of mind Christianity provided her. In the summer of 2003 when Timothy first switched to telemarketing and could not make any sales, Grace worked more shifts at her part-time job with minimum wage in addition to full-time studies, job search, housework, and church activities. In an interview, Grace recounted her weekly schedule of running around between different duties, and said: G:

我就挣这么点儿钱-不够自己用- 有时侯我跟 Timothy 说 , ‘Timothy, 我不想活了-好累啊 …’

I make so little money – not enough to support myself – sometimes I say to Timothy, ‘Timothy, I don’t want to live any more – so exhausted …’ (Transcripts, 16–07–2003)


Amidst this physical exhaustion and psychological difficulty caused by financial problems and lacking security, Christianity offered a refuge for Grace, as she recounted what she learned from church classes and from reading Pastor Peter’s notes: G: 所以看了 [Pastor Peter’s notes] 以后我就明白了为什么所有的 Christian 他们都非常 humble, 而且他们面对很多事情 -他们都会非常的坦然, 都不会非常的急躁- 如果他们得到什么, … 他们知道这是 gifts from God, 是 God 的 plan. 如果他们没得到,他们知道那是 God 不给他们因为那对他们不好 - 所以那也是 God 的 plan. 所以人就不会觉得自己在世界上是没有主宰的,自己根本不知道自己的未来是什么样子- 很多人想知道.如果是我们, 我们就没必要知道- 我们就是去做, God 自然就 bless 我们了…

So after reading [Pastor Peter’s notes], I have come to understand why all the Christians are very humble, and why they are at ease and not rushing when they face many things. If they get something, … they know it’s gifts from God and it’s God’s plan. If they don’t get it, they know it’s God who has decided not to give it to them because it is not good for them- so it’s God’s plan as well. Therefore, people won’t feel that they have no control in this world, not knowing at all what their future will be like- many people want to know. For us, we have no need to know – we do what we can, and God will bless us naturally. … (Transcripts, 16–07–2003, my emphasis) In the above excerpt, Grace first rationalized that no matter whether people got what they wanted or not, it was ‘God’s plan.’ She then contended that, living in God’s plan could elevate the sense of having ‘no control in this world,’ and Christians had ‘no need to know’ about their future. As mentioned earlier, this was a particularly difficult time for Grace and Timothy physically and psychologically. I argue that it was also a time when Grace would have really liked to know what the future held for them in terms of job prospects, and whether they could pay their next month’s bills. When there was no way to know the future, believing in evangelical Christianity offered Grace some comfort: ‘We do what we can, and God will bless us naturally.’ Grace also mentioned that she observed that ‘all Christians [we]re very humble,’ and ‘at ease’ and ‘not rushing’ when they faced many things. Grace’s noticing suggested that, amidst the settlement torment, she longed for these characteristics.


It is interesting that, while both Grace and Timothy found peace or calmness in evangelical Christianity, only Grace mentioned, at several times throughout my fieldwork, that being ‘humble’ was desirable and admirable. Indeed, Grace and Timothy had differential socialization at Green Meadow. At Green Meadow, women were efficient helpers to men. Women prepared coffee and snacks, and helped with Sunday Worship Services, and the four executive members’ partners all assisted in leading cell groups, but it was mostly men who spoke, played musical instruments and sang on stage at church. Similarly, Yang (2004) observed that educated immigrant women from Mainland China often had educational attainments and professional employment similar to their husbands in the United States, but they chose to support their husbands’ taking up leadership roles at church. The linguistic practices at church, as in many other institutions, are gendered and form an integral and fundamental part of the process of gendering both sexes, implicitly, in different ways. I will examine the gendered linguistic practices and their effects on private, and then social, identities in the section below.

Gendered linguistic practices: private identities and linguistic practices When I met Grace and Timothy in May 2003, a year and a half after their arrival in Canada, their settlement experiences had re-shaped their gendered identities, but their private identities largely resembled the ones they co-constructed prior to immigration. Indeed, there were evidence that Grace might enjoy a private identity that was slightly more powerful than Timothy, indicated by their turn-taking patterns, shown below. In this interview in English, I first finished asking Grace questions, and then asked Timothy: 1 2 3 4 5 6

HM: In terms of Timothy’s question … you said, on May 4th, you said you ‘phoned your friendG: James HM: -to discuss something’ – usually what do you discuss? G: About the BibleT: -About the Bible. HM: Oh – so you were talking about the Bible-


7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

G: [quickly] Timothy often talked about the Bible for an hour, or an hour and half on the phone. Other people – our friends call us also XX HM: OK, I see – that was why it was difficult to reach you guys [laughs] G: Timothy is like ‘I’m not clear – I’m very confused so I’ll call them’ – call the senior ChristiansT: -Yes. HM: mhm – OK – so can you give me an example – usually what kind of questions you had asked? T: OKG: -Like cell groupT: -About cell group – OK – So we are not sure about cell group. The Bible didn’t teach, didn’t mention that you should have cell group, but in the real world, now they just have cell group. So I just asked the senior – the senior Christians in the church – they maybe have been – have been Christian[s] for 10–15 years. I just called him [sic: them] and asked question[s]. (Transcripts, 25–05–2003 B)

In this excerpt, I asked Timothy three direct (#1, #3; #12) and one indirect questions (#6). Grace reacted quickly and answered for him on three occasions (#2, #4, #7) and identified the topic (#13) for him in the other, but left time for Timothy to elaborate (#14). This turntaking practice reflected and constructed Grace as a competent woman who could influence her husband’s decisions and who had a say in their family matters. Grace’s taking Timothy’s turns was common in their gatherings with their Chinese friends that I observed, indicating her slightly more authoritative position in their relationship and in their family matters. Indeed, later that summer, Grace told me that she first refused Timothy’s plea to buy a used car given their financial difficulties. However, one day when Timothy came home sweaty and exhausted from carrying groceries, Grace gave in, set a budget of $1000, and asked Timothy to look for a used car. While Grace maintained a relative powerful private identity at home in Canada, then, she often found that it was more difficult to have her turns and to assert herself as a legitimate speaker and worthy


to be listened to in more institutional settings such as church, to which I turn below. Struggling for the floor: a cell group meeting In general, Timothy invested more in his religious identity than Grace, possibly because he rarely had other communities until his door-to-door sales became profitable while Grace first studied at college and then worked part-time for an extended time. At Green Meadow, Timothy constructed the identity of a devoted Christian by studying the Bible and actively evangelizing other Chinese immigrants, while Grace seemed relatively mild in both. Their linguistic practices at more formal church activities have to be understood in their differential identity investment (Norton, 2000), as well as in the patriarchal practices at church in general. I will examine Grace and Timothy’s linguistic practices in a cell group meeting since cell group meetings were the only formal occasions where they were given opportunities to speak up during their time at Green Meadow (see Han, forthcoming, for a detailed account of their forms of participation in various church activities). As we shall see, they had different accesses to the floor which both reflected and shaped their religious identities in different ways. The cell group was a small group activity in which group members met weekly to study the Bible for an hour, followed by a long fellowship session during which members socialized, sometimes until midnight. The cell group is seen as essential in ‘evangelizing and consolidating new believers in intimate settings’ (Green Meadow website, 2004). Grace and Timothy attended the cell group led by Joanna and Harry, a Chinese Canadian couple in their early and midtwenties. Since May 2003, every Saturday evening, several immigrants from China gathered at Joanna and Harry’s condominium apartment. During the first two cell group meetings I observed, Joanna and Harry lectured, and called on group members to read a verse one at a time during the Bible Study part. The turn distribution and turn-taking thus were highly structured. When I asked Grace and Timothy to tape record one session for me in August, it happened that Joanna and Harry asked them to translate for a new member. When I listened to this one-hour tape, Joanna and Harry were leading the group and distributing turns. Timothy took up most of the remaining turns, interpreting, but also elaborating


with his own understanding of the Bible, and sometimes interrupting Joanna or Harry. Timothy spoke vividly and cheerfully at length with a loud voice, while Grace who was supposed to be sharing the interpreting duty had a few short turns only. Joanna seemed to have noticed this unequal access to the floor. Toward the end of the first half an hour when Joanna took a turn to lead, she said softly and quickly to Grace, ‘your turn Grace – make sure everyone hears you,’ and laughs loudly, possibly to mitigate her explicitly giving the floor to Grace, which implicitly terminated Timothy’s domination of the floor. Grace subsequently had several extended turns in interpreting, but lost the floor to Timothy again in the second half hour. Timothy’s gendered linguistic practices – loud, cheerful and aggressive – played a major role in his domination of the floor, which limited Grace’s access to it. Indeed, Grace said when she handed me the tape: G: …我们在跟他们翻译嘛, 但是我圣经的知识没有 Timothy 多, Timothy 总是有话说, 所以我能说的就只是 ‘小点儿声!’[laughs] … We were translating for them, but I didn’t have as much knowledge of the Bible as Timothy, and Timothy always had something to say. So all I was left to say was ‘speak softly!’ [laughs] (Transcripts, 21–08–2003) Grace thus was aware of, and self-mocked, her lack of air time. While she reminded Timothy in terms of his gendered speaking style, ‘speak softly!’, she mainly attributed her lack of access to the floor to her lack of knowledge of the Bible. During Grace’s struggle for the floor to speak in this particular group meeting, one incident stood out which contradicted Grace’s quiet (and thus feminized) interactional style in the rest of the meeting, as well as her explanation of it based on knowledge of the Bible. In the excerpt below, shortly after Joanna granted the floor to Grace in the middle of this meeting, Harry moved the group to a new task: 1 H: So let’s turn to Second Corinthians2 Female A: Corinthians 是什么 What is Corinthians? 3 J: [laughs]


4 T: Second Corinthians – I think it’s5 G: [flipping the Bible; softly] xxx [a bit louder] 后面- 再往后好象 [flipping the Bible; softly] xxx [a bit louder] further – further ahead I think 6 J: After Roman’s 7 T: After Roman’s- [Loudly] 哥林多! 哥林多后书! Second Corinthians[to H?] Which chapter? After Roman’s- [Loud] Gelinduo! Gelinduo hou shu! [Corinthians! Second Corinthians!]- Second Corinthians- [to H] which chapter? 8 H: Seven-one 9 T: Seven-one 10 G: [Flips to the right page? Announces] 7章1节 [Flips to the right page? Announces] Seven-one 11 T: Seven-one- Second Corinthians- [sounds like still looking for the verse] Seven-one, right? 12 G: [to H?] I’ll read it13 H: OK14 G: ‘Therefore, having these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves – from ⫽ XX ⫽ 15 T: ⫽ UHM? ⫽ [Loudly] 16 G: [calmly] xx-我错了吗? [Looks at T’s Bible? Dismissively] 你错了! [calmly] Did I make a mistake? [Looks at T’s Bible? Dismissively] YOU are wrong! 17 Female B: SECOND18 T: -oh second right19 Female B: ⫽ No Paul ⫽ 20 J: ⫽ chapter seven ⫽ one21 T: Seven-one[several people all talk at once- ] 22 Female B: SECOND- yeah [to G?] you’re right23 G: ⫽ I can go read x ⫽ 24 H: ⫽ SECOND Corinthians ⫽ 25 T: ‘since we have these promises’ right26 Several voices: ⫽ yeah yeah ⫽ 27 G: [reads calmly, and sounds paced] ⫽ ‘Therefore ⫽ having these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from XXness of the flesh and spirit – perfecting holiness in the fear of God.’ (Transcripts, 16–08–2003–08–16)


There are many interesting points in this excerpt, and I will focus on Grace and Timothy’s gendered turn-taking behaviors only. First, Grace was the first in the group to find the correct verse and she sounded soft and quiet (turns #5 and #10), while Timothy, who was still searching, continuously verbalized his thoughts and took up air time in the group (#4, #7, #9, #11). Second, Grace explicitly requested a turn (#11), indicating her awareness of and respect for floor allocation conventions, but Timothy openly interrupted Grace’s turn without authorization from either her, the speaker, or Harry and Joanna, the group leaders (#15). Third, Grace first attended to Timothy’s suspicion, then dismissed it sternly (#16), and insisted on holding her turn by re-reading her verse calmly despite the noise (# 27). The group listened. Grace thus asserted her right to speak and to be listened to (Bourdieu, 1977), and her legitimacy as a knowledgeable Christian without further direct confrontation. The above three aspects of this excerpt suggest that Grace and Timothy’s ways of accessing the floor were gendered: Grace tended to follow the implicit convention that Joanna and Harry distribute turns, while Timothy often broke the convention. Shaw (2000, cited in Cameron, 2001: 164–68) found similarly gendered patterns of abiding by versus breaking rules of accessing the floor between female and male members of parliament in debates in the British House of Commons. I argue that the interaction in the above excerpt is not only gendered, but also constitutes the process of constructing Grace’s and Timothy’s gendered religious identities. It was significant that Grace requested a turn, which was rare in this and three other similar meetings I observed and tape recorded. Her request indicated Grace’s attempt to establish a more positive religious identity as an active participant who could keep up with what was going on in the group, instead of being a mere quiet listener. More importantly, Grace’s request was a form of resistance to Timothy’s domination of the floor, as she half-jokingly complained to me when she handed me the tape, quoted earlier. After all, at home and in small groups with their Chinese friends, they had more or less equal access to the floor, and why should Timothy kept taking all the floor in this group? In addition, Grace later dismissed Timothy’s accusation and asserted that she was correct, further showing her displeasure toward Timothy and her desire to assert a social and religious identity with some power.


Notably, despite Grace’s assertion of her being correct and Timothy being wrong in this particular interaction (#16), when Grace handed me the tape, she attributed Timothy’s domination of the floor mainly to his superior knowledge of the Bible. She thus interpreted her lack of access to the floor as mainly related to her less powerful religious identity instead of their gendered interaction behaviors. However, when Timothy interrupted Grace, he implicitly challenged that she was reading the wrong verse, or lacked familiarity with the Bible, thus also constructing her as less proficient in religious terms. Therefore, in this particular interaction, Grace and Timothy challenged each other’s religious identities momentarily but to the same effect: despite the fact that Grace got it right and Timothy got it wrong in this particular incident, they both believed that Timothy was more knowledgeable in the Bible than Grace. In this sense, linguistic practices constitutes the process of gendering Grace and Timothy’s religious identities.4 I argue that, in and through everyday linguistic practices such as the one described above, gender, language, religion, and immigrant status intersect to categorize and construct Grace in a certain way, that of an immigrant woman who was learning English and knew little about the Bible, and so on, and to construct Timothy differently. This identity construction can subsequently justify granting one, such as Timothy, more access to the floor than the other, such as Grace, which will directly impact on what they can learn and can become. Linguistic practices are thus simultaneously a result of gendered identity as well as the process of gendering identity, which naturalize the institutional rules and policies that have gendered them in China and Canada as based on gender differences instead of gendered differences.

Discussion: immigration, language, religion and gender In this chapter, I have sketched Grace’s and Timothy’s life trajectories in the context of globalization. Their settlement trajectories and experiences suggest that, in settlement, an immigrant wife can be called upon to compensate for the husband’s suffering and loss, and that, despite the wide spread of gender equality in Western liberal democracies, settlement seems to gender immigrants in particular


ways, and some immigrant women might be particularly vulnerable in this process. While economic gain is the driving force behind globalization, institutional rules and state policies often play major roles in creating and reproducing inequality, including gender inequality, in globalization, which influences men and women in different ways in both China and Canada. I argue that day-to-day practices, including linguistic practices, constitute the implicit gendering process which in turn naturalizes gendered institutional rules and policies. Grace and Timothy’s settlement trajectories also suggest that it is important to situate immigrant religious conversions and minority religious practices in the larger context of settlement and the gloablized political economy. After all, the religious world and the secular world are inseparable. It is important for us to remember that immigrants are not only who they were when they arrived, but also what Canada (and any other country) makes them.

Notes 1. I thank my colleague Dr. Marion Chang for her thorough edits of a draft of this chapter. 2. Pseudonyms are used throughout this dissertation for all participating individuals and institutions. ‘Grace’ and ‘Timothy’ resemble the Christian names the couple use at church and in daily life in Canada. Married women have retained their family names in Mainland China since 1949. 3. The resident permit is part of the resident registration system that goes back to the Han Dynasty, around 200 DC, in China. The Chinese Communist government divided citizens into cadre, workers, and peasants. The first two groups had city resident permits which were linked to housing and daily supply entitlements, and their work units paid them according to their ranks. Peasants were obliged to first sell their products to the government at pre-set prices, and the only way to become city residents was to pass national university entrance exams. The government would assign graduates to work units with city resident permits, usually in the graduates’ home provinces. The resident permit system has loosened in the past several years. 4. After spending more than a year and half at Green Meadow, Grace and Timothy switched to Upper Canada Mandarin Community Church with a large Mandarin congregation and a small English congregation. They attended the English congregation and were soon given opportunities to participate in formal English Sunday Services as well as in all the other less formal activities. Their participation there composed another set of gendered socialization with different individual and social consequences, which is discussed in Han, 2007.


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Pierce, B. N. (1995). Social identity, investment, and language learning. TESOL Quarterly, 29(1), 9–31. PROMPT. (2004). In the Public Interest: Immigrant Access to Regulated Professions in Today’s Ontario (Policy paper). Toronto: Policy Roundtable Mobilizing Professions and Trades (PROMPT). Salaff, J., Greve, A., and Xu, L. L. (2001). Paths into the economy: Structural barriers and the job hunt for skilled PRC immigrants. The International Journal of Human Resource Management. A Special Issue on Labour in a Globalising World: The Challenge for Asia, 13(3), 1–15. Salaff, J., Greve, A., and Xu, L. L. (2002). When Ties Do Not Tie In: Can skilled Chinese immigrants find jobs outside Chinatown? Paper presented at the NACSA Annual meeting, Chicago, 15 August. Shaw, S. (2000). Language, gender and floor apportionment in political debate. Discourse & Society, 11(3), 401–8. Sunderland, J. (2000). Issues of language and gender in second and foreign language education. Language Teaching, 33(4), 203–23. Toohey, K. (1998). ‘Break them up, take them away’: Practices in the Grade 1 classroom. TESOL Quarterly, 32(1), 61–84. Toohey, K. (2000). Learning English at School: Identity, Social Relations and Classroom Practice. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Wakin, D. J. (2004). Where Gospel resounds in African sounds. New York Times, 18 April. Wang, S. and Lo, L. (2000). Economic impacts of immigrants in the Toronto CMA: A tax-benefit analysis. Journal of International Migration and Integration, 1(3), 273– 303. Woods, A. (2004). Medium or Message? Language and Faith in Ethnic Churches. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Yang, F. (1999). Chinese Christians in America: Conversion, Assimilation, and Adhesive Identities. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press. Yang, F. (2004). Gender and generation in a Chinese Christian church. In T. Carnes and F. Yang (eds), Asian American Religions: The Making and Remaking of Borders and Boundaries. New York and London: New York University Press, pp. 205–22. Yang, F. and Ebaugh, H. R. (2001). Transformations in new immigrant religions and their global implications. American Sociological Review, 66(2), 269–88.

10 Matka Polka (Mother Poland) and the Cult of the Virgin Mary: Linguistic Analysis of the Social Roles and Expectations of Polish Women Bozena Tieszen

Introduction Gender differences in linguistic and non-linguistic behavior, its social roles and expectations have often been explained in terms of an inherent, biologically based pre-conditioning. Numerous studies, however, have revealed that these differences are, to a great degree, constrained and constructed by social forces. Since gender is a fundamental part of society, any political or social changes will affect all its levels, particularly gender make up and gender perception within that society. The social roles and expectations of Polish women have been greatly influenced by turbulent events in Polish history as well as by the cult of the Virgin Mary being deeply rooted in Polish national consciousness. The partition of Poland in the eighteenth century and subsequent Polish uprisings against the occupying powers led to the creation of a symbolic self-sacrificing maternal figure of courage and great moral strength, referred to as Mother Poland after a poem by A. Mickiewicz, ‘Ode to Mother Poland’ (‘Oda do Matki Polki’). From that point on, this image of a self-sacrificing woman, in the name of the higher good, was glorified in art, literature, and the media. It also 220

The Social Roles and Expectations of Polish Women 221

was to be emulated by Polish women, who took the burden of responsibility to raise families in a patriotic spirit based on faith, as well as to cultivate and maintain Polish identity when Poland disappeared from the map of Europe. The metaphorical connection between Christian Mater Dolorosa, Pieta, and suffering yet morally strong, defiant Mother Poland propagated the idea, abundantly present in Polish Romantic literature, of the messianic role Poland was to play in leading other oppressed countries to freedom. The notion of Poland’s messianic role was brought to life again in the 1980s during the political transformations in Central and Eastern Europe when Poland was often referred to, and perceived as, an initiator and a leader of freedom and the democratization movement. With the Catholic Church playing a pivotal role in Polish society for centuries, the close connection between the concept of Mother Poland and the Virgin Mary in the Polish social mind has been very strong – after World War II it increased even more. The Church was not only a religious institution but was also the only legal institution which opposed the government throughout the post-war period. It was a safe haven for organizations of political opposition and also remained a strong force in maintaining national identity. After the fall of socialism in 1989, the Polish Episcopate gained a strong political influence due to its close ties to the victorious Solidarity movement and its devout Catholic leader Lech Walesa. Also at that time the ‘Polish’ Pope John Paul II saw an opportunity for Poland to act as a ‘Christ of the Nations’ and revive Christianity across Europe. The Polish Episcopate focused on outlawing abortion and contraceptives, introducing religion into the school system and establishing relations with the Vatican.1 During the 1999 elections the Primate of Poland, Józef Glemp, reminded Poles that the most important duty of a Catholic is to ‘… not vote for those who agree to abortion, same-sex partnerships and euthanasia.’2 The Catholic Church was no longer confined to the underground – it became a vital force in Polish political and judicial life.

The Catholic Church and women The Catholic Church reinforces the traditional role of women in Polish society by providing educational guidelines for girls based on the image of the Holy Virgin. The teachings of the church influence


girls in primary schools and kindergarten during religion classes. Mother Poland (Matka Polka) is, as Pope John Paul II stated, ‘the silent protector of the family and guardian of the nation, as symbolized by the cult of Virgin Mary.’3 The ‘perfect woman’ nourishes physically, spiritually, and reproduces. John Paul II noted: In the name of liberation from male ‘domination’, women must not appropriate to themselves male characteristics contrary to their own feminine ‘originality’. There is a well-founded fear that if they take this path, women will not ‘reach fulfillment’, but instead will deform and lose what constitutes their essential richness.4 In 1996 the Primate of Poland, Józef Glemp, warned Polish women that ‘… the feminist movement with its slogan of women’s liberation from traditional roles, is in fact aimed at the destruction of stable marriage, which in turn will lead to the unhappiness of women themselves’.5 The teachings of the Catholic Church on women’s roles and rights in Poland find a lot of support among politicians according to whom, ‘It is impossible to speak of discrimination against women. Nature gave them a different role to that of men. The ideal must still be the woman-mother, for whom pregnancy is a blessing.’6

Different faces of the Polish Mother (Matka Polka) in Polish women’s magazines Post-war Poland At the beginning of the post-war period the policy of the government was to provide a workplace for women, that was a part of the doctrine – that is, commitment to full and compulsory employment and to women’s equality. However, there is a more realistic explanation of this policy: Women were an important source of labor in the post-war economy that suffered from a shortage of workers, due to the enormous population losses in World War II. The government actively encouraged women to take jobs, any jobs. Some very popular images during that time were of a beautiful, young woman dressed in folk costume and driving a tractor and of women working together with men, laying bricks and rebuilding the country.


Despite the government promise of gender equality, throughout the socialist period, women were not given positions of leadership or promotions and their wages were 20 percent to 40 percent lower than those of men working in the same positions. While encouraging women to work, the state pressed the issue of motherhood, and as a result the depiction of women changed: she was no longer a worker but also a mother with a husband and children. While encouraging each of these roles, the state did very little to link them together and, as a result, emphasized the traditional image of a self-sacrificing woman who gives up her needs, desires, and aspirations for a greater cause: family and country. This state of the social mind is clearly represented in women’s magazines. There are only two roles that are portrayed: zona (‘wife’) / matka, (‘mother’) and pracownica (‘worker’) / utrzymujaca rodzine (‘breadwinner’). The adjectives used most often are: ciezko pracujaca (‘hard-working’), dobra (‘kind’), madra (‘intelligent’), rozsadna (‘levelheaded’), oszczedna (‘thrifty’), zorganizowana (‘well-organized’). The average woman portrayed in the magazines prior to 1989 is a nurse or teacher (usually elementary or kindergarten), rarely a doctor or other professional. She usually has a primary or secondary education, sometimes higher, but gives it up as soon as she becomes a mother. ‘I have dedicated my life to my children and family, for whom I have taken full responsibility’; she gives up her career for her children by saying, ‘I believe they will achieve what I could not’. (Przyjaciólka, magazine) The stereotypical Polish family, as depicted in the media, consisted of a strong woman and a weak man. Men were portrayed as ‘big children’ who depended on their wife’s support and coaching. The reward for this self-sacrificing wife was her husband’s success: ‘He would not have become what he is without me.’ The idealized woman presented in the magazines lacks any feminine or individual features. There is no information about her age, appearance, emotional problems, or her feelings, unless they relate to the family. Women who pursue their ambitions and are involved in their professional careers usually pay a heavy price – the job market portrayed in the magazines is not women-friendly. To gain respect and recognition


women usually have to work much harder than men. They have to deal with job-related problems and all of this has a negative effect on the family and marriage. Articles in these magazines present a grim scenario: the family suffers because the woman is preoccupied with her job, she doesn’t have time for her husband, doesn’t have time to take care of herself – she is not attractive anymore. Thus, her husband leaves her, usually for a younger woman, maybe less intelligent but more attractive. Post-Solidarity Poland Following the change in Poland’s political system and the introduction of a free market economy the position of women in the labor market changed dramatically, offering a wide range of career opportunities and giving women entirely new choices. The demand for a highly skilled work force is growing and one of the results of this is the emergence of a new class of professional women. Women are now taking prestigious positions in areas that were once reserved for men. These social changes are reflected in the Polish language, which has reacted by incorporating a fair number of borrowings, especially from English, and by the derivation of new words. In cases of the names of professions, derivation of feminine forms is blocked because of cultural conditioning. The Polish language lacks feminine forms that denote prestigious positions or functions; although, theoretically they could be formed by the addition of the suffix, ka. Instead, the title Mrs (pani) plus a default masculine form are used: premier (masc.)

*premier1ka7

pani premier (fem.)

‘prime minister’

ambassador (masc.)

*ambassador1 ka

pani ambassador (fem.)

‘ambassador’

prezydent (masc.)

*prezydent1ka

pani prezydent (fem.)

‘president’

In the magazines directed to career-oriented women, such as Twój Styl, Pani or Sukces, writers struggle with choosing feminine forms for occupation terms. The feminine suffix 2ka in Polish also functions as the diminutive; thus, in order to be perceived as a person of capabilities, women themselves prefer masculine forms, for example, menadzer


(masc.) instead of *menadzerka (fem.) – ‘manager’; psycholog (masc.) instead of *psycholozka (fem.) – ‘psychologist’; broker (masc.) instead of *brokerka (fem.) – ‘broker’; adwokat (masc.) instead of *adwokatka (fem.) – ‘advocate’. The magazines Przyjaciólka (‘Woman’s Friend’) and Swiat Kobiety (‘Woman’s World’) continue to focus on the traditional image of woman as homemaker. The ‘new’ woman cares about her family, but doesn’t forget about herself. Even if a woman ceases work, it is argued, she should not neglect her own personal development. Przyjaciólka (‘Woman’s Friend’) gives the impression of telling secrets as a true friend – on its pages a woman can find a whole plethora of fashion secrets, beauty secrets, culinary secrets, as well as health and legal advice. With the introduction of a new, assertive, confident woman one might assume that the old traditional self-sacrificing ‘Matka Polka’ is gone. However, the message these women magazines convey does not support this assumption. Women’s roles ●

Mother Interview with an actress: Girl-like features, blond, sexy figure … even though she would be a dreamcome-true for any man, she is not in a hurry to find a steady partner. ‘My career gives me more pizzazz than the family life would.’ ‘That’s a brave statement. Don’t you feel lonesome, sometimes?’ ‘You’re planning to have a family in the future, aren’t you?’ 8

●

How to talk to a man He doesn’t listen?-Try to surprise him, catch his attention with some story that is not related to what you really want to tell him. He doesn’t like ‘girl talk’? Use the same phrases as he does. Difficult topic? Tell him in a car on the way to the movies. Don’t criticize him.9 ‘Laugh! – women who do not are still single by the time they reach the age of 30.’ 10 ‘I can combine my acting carrier and family. I don’t waste time on tea, coffee or the spa like other women.’ 11


●

Dogs for boys and girls For a girl-a pug, a nice, calm, patient, typical toy-dog; likes to be petted, he wouldn’t mind a mothering girl. For a boy-a boxer-a very social, active, energetic, smart and intelligent.’ 12

●

Ideal marriage He is a singer, she is his manager, he comes home exhausted after concerts; she is waiting with his favorite dish; he spends money easily – so she keeps an eye on the bank account. It has been like that for the past 20 years – they celebrated their wedding anniversary not long ago.13

●

Femininity She is a tough woman. Sometimes such a toughie cries, too. Usually when she feels helpless and because of guys, of course.14 The 23-year old world champion is one of the most beautiful Polish athletes and because of that she is looking at us from tens of billboards.15 Be feminine in trousers.16 Sexy, feminine make-up is making a triumphant comeback. Add a drop of sensuous perfumes and start the new season with confidence.17

Twój Styl (‘Your Style’) magazine targets an affluent and upscale market and presents women who are active, carrier-oriented, powerful, intelligent, and attractive. The analyzed articles revealed, however, that a woman should not be powerful, this is not what society expects of her, thus her femininity is an obligatory part of her professional look adding a gentler touch to her picture. ●

Femininity/Motherhood Owner of the grocery chain Mokate – Teresa … blond, wearing a light pantsuit and necklace of delicate pearls. Sitting upright, her legs elegantly crossed. How does she rule? – ‘with amicable solutions in mind. I feel uncomfortable if I have to be tough.’ 18 Anna always wears high-heels, tough but motherly. Zyta Gibowska, fragile, not a very tall lady is now far away from Parliament, elections and cameras … You can change her mind by using an argument stronger than hers or – by giving her flowers. She is especially fond of roses. If I rule – I do it subconsciously. I don’t even realize that I am competing with somebody.19 Izabela Sowa, a petite, fragile blonde.20 [a successful writer]


Motherhood has changed your personality. You’ve changed you’re not a hypersensitive, lost girl anymore, you became a woman who knows what she wants.’ 21 Loneliness in the Tower. Women today are not ashamed to be single. They are making good money, they have friends but in their empty apartments there is only fear that awaits them. Like princesses they are waiting for their prince. What will happen if he doesn’t arrive?’ 22 A very feminine, nurturing woman is also present in the newly published magazine Sukces that is directed to very successful and influential women and men. Women are genetically wired to take care of the family … and if a woman decides to have plastic surgery it is because of her natural sense of esthetics, nothing else.’ 23 Interview with Danuta Huebner, the commissary of the EU: Don’t you think that it is too big a responsibility for you? You’re such a petite woman.’ 24

Discussion An analysis of the linguistic image of women in Polish women’s magazines published before 1989 and after reveals that although society recognizes and acknowledges the new roles and responsibilities of women, the everlasting image of Matka Polka plays a significant role in gender perception and construction. Her symbolic, metaphorical bond with the Virgin Mary is further maintained and perpetuated by the Catholic Church whose influence on public and political life in Poland is unquestionable. Polish women are still expected to be a nurturing and protective force behind their families. The socialist gender discourse did not stress the beauty aspect of women; in today’s discourse Matka Polka, in addition to her maternal role, also has to conform to beauty standards and individual success that is defined by the demands of the market. Most women are not able to meet the demands imposed on them by the tradition (The Church) and new post-1989 reality. For the older generation of women, the ‘brave victim’, Matka Polka, provided a greater sense of comfort and validity


for her struggles and sacrifices than for today’s young generation of women. For many of them the combined model of motherhood and femininity undermines their efforts towards self-recognition. As a member of the European Union, the Polish government is responsible for enforcing gender-mainstreaming policies in all areas of public life. This process, however, may be impeded to some degree because of the strong ties of Polish society to the traditionally strict, conservative roles and expectations of women and men.

Notes 1. Kulczycki, A. (1995). Abortion policy in postcommunist Europe: The conflict in Poland. Population and Development Review 21(3). 2. Bulletin, Polish News. (2001). Bishops establish ethical guidelines for Catholic voters. Polish News Bulletin, 27 August. 3. Kuklczycki, A. (1995). Abortion policy in postcommunist Europe: The conflict in Poland. Population and Development Review 21(3). 4. John Paul, II. (2002). Mulieris Dignitatem: On the Dignity and Vocation of Women on the Occasion of the Marian Year. Rome: Vatican, 1988. 5. Nowicka, W. (1996). Roman Catholic Church fundamentalism against women’s rights in Poland. In Reproductive Health Matters Database: Contemporary Women’s Issues (July). 6. Moghadam, V. (1995). Gender and revolutionary transformation: Iran 1979 and East Central Europe 1989. Gender and Society 3, 328–58. 7. The asterisk (*) denotes a non-existing form in Polish. 8. Woman’s World, 15 February 2005, p. 55. 9. Woman’s Friend, No. 16, 2005, p. 58. 10. Woman’s Friend, No. 13, 2005, p. 58. 11. Woman’s Friend, No. 18, 2004, p. 14. 12. Woman’s Friend, No. 16, 2005, p. 58. 13. Woman’s Friend, No. 51, 2005, p. 10. 14. Woman’s Friend, No. 30, 2004, p. 15. 15. Woman’s Friend, No. 31, 2004, p. 4. 16. Woman’s Friend, No. 33, 2004, p. 6. 17. Woman’s Friend, No. 37, 2004, p. 10. 18. Twoj Styl, No. 10, 2004, p. 36. 19. Twój Styl, No. 6, 2004, p. 20. 20. Twój Styl, No. 10, 2004, p. 18. 21. Twój Styl, No.1, 2005, p. 146. 22. Twój Styl, No. 1, 2005, p. 32. 23. Sukces, No. 12, 2004, p. 14. 24. Sukces, No. 12, 2004, p. 18.

Index aborô, 159–61 acculturation, 30 adé, 160–1 Adventist church (Lancaster City), 35, 45 African descendants, in Brazil, 149–50 African languages, in Afro-Brazilian communities, 161 African names, in Candomblé communities, 161–3 age, initiatic, 158 analogies, 15 analysis, of testimonies, 12, 13–25 ancestors, 179 Anglican Church, ordination of women, 74 animism, 175 anthropomorphization, 113 assertiveness, 100–1 audience, including in testimony, 20 authoritative speech, 24–5 authority, domestic, 209–11 Bakhtin, Mikhail, 53 Beattie, Tina, 112 beautiful speech, 14 behaviour, subordinate, 74–5, 78 Bible, 10, 50–3 Bible lessons, linguistic decisions, 42–3 bilingualism, 46 Black Mother, 153 blessings, Candomblé, 166 brand loyalty, 129–30 branding, 106, 122–8 religious metaphors in, 107–9 Brazil, slavery, 149 breviaries, 94

bridal mysticism, 110, 116–18. see also erotic religious writing, metaphor JESUS AS LOVER brides, as metaphor for relationship with God, 117–18 Buchholtz, M., 156 burnt offering, 178 business, relationship with religion, 106–10 Canada, immigration, 199–200 Candomblé behavioural norms, 158 blessings, 166 in Brazilian society, 150–1 empowerment and resistance, 154–5 female leadership, 155–6 forms of address, 163–5 functions of language, 166–8 gender categories, 160–1 gendered structures, 151 history, 149 identity construction, 152 initiatic names, 161–3 initiation, 157–63 language, 156–7 non-verbal salutes, 165–6 position of women, 151–2 power, 152 verbal greetings, 165 capitalism, 107 catechism, 10 Catholic Church gender roles, 221–2 ordination of women, 74 political role in Poland, 221 position of women, 7, 9, 25n, 81 Catholic church (Lancaster City), 34, 38 Catholicism, 10, 131–2n

229

230 Index

cell group meetings, 211–15 charismatic prayer, 9, 20–4 charismatic renewal, 10, 11 childbirth, Lisu, 181–2 China, demographic change, 199 Chinese medicine, 182 choices, moral, 50–1 Christianity evangelical, 201–3, 205, 209, 211–15 and Lisu, 181–3 and peace of mind, 207–8 churches finding one to attend, 18–19 gender roles, 42–6 hierarchies, 73 in Lancaster City, 31–2 linguistic decisions, 30, 46–7 modes of interaction, 41 organizational structures, 41 role in socialization of immigrants, 36 speech events, 36–7 ChurchList, 80 code-switching, 40, 48n cognitive metaphor theory, 105 collective performance, 24 colonialism, in Brazil, 150 commentary, 13 communication, phatic, 144–5 communicative strategies, 76–7 Community of Practice (C of P), 80, 82 compliments, 136–9. see also responses to compliments context, 3 conversation, turn taking, 209–15 conversational maxims, 137 cordel literature, portrayal of AfroBrazilians, 153 corporate branding, 128 corporate religion, 107 Corvalán, Silva, 30 Costa Lima, V. da, 155 creolizations, 151 critical discourse analysis, 3–4

criticizing others, in on-line Community of Practice, 87 Crystal, D., 143–4 Csordas, Thomas, 24 culture, and language, 30–1 cursing, 76 dance, as metaphor in marketing, 127 Davy, D., 143–4 decision making, guided by God, 206–7 deictics, 58, 59, 61, 62 deities, Afro-Brazilian, 158 demography, China, 199 denotational text, 59 dialogic interaction, 38, 41, 66–7 direct reference, 59, 61 discourse, 13, 20 and community, 2 corporate and religious, 108–9 in a social field, 105 discourse analysis, 3–4, 51 discrimination, against AfroBrazilians, 153 dobale, 165 double-voicing, 59 dramatization, 24 dynamics, of power, 129–30 effectiveness, of performances, 24 egalitarianism, 143 elitism, 136–7, 143 embrace, 113 emigration, 205–6. see also immigration emotional branding, 107, 130 employment, of immigrants, 200–3 English language, learning, 30 English Plus, 30 erô, 160 erotic religious writing, 116–18, 131–2 n.8. see also bridal mysticism, metaphor JESUS AS LOVER

eroticism, in religious discourse, 118–21

Index 231

ethnic identity, 47 ethnicity, and language selection, 29, 33–4 evangelical Christianity cell group meetings, 211–15 gender roles, 209 as interpretive frame, 205 and settlement, 201–3 evangelization, 10, 11, 14, 32–6, 46 events, controlled by God, 206–7 exegesis, 56–68 family, as metaphor in marketing, 123–4 Farr, Marcia, 26–7n father, as metaphor for God, 112–14 feminism, 222 Fishman, Joshua, 30–1 flame, as metaphor for God, 119–20 forgiveness, 22 formal coherence, 13 forms of address, Candomblé, 163–5 framing devices, 13, 15 friend as metaphor for God, 121–2 as metaphor in marketing, 127–8 funeral rite, Lisu, 179–80, 189–92 funeral song, Lisu, 177 Gal, Susan, 25, 40, 42 Galatia, 56–7 Galations, exegesis, 56–68 gardening, as metaphor in marketing, 124–5 gender conversation, 212–15 forms of address, 163–5 initiatic, 157–61 and language, 3–4 and language learning, 197–8 and life trajectories, 198–200 and participation in services, 41 responses to compliments, 141–7 gender constructions, 67–8 gender hierarchy, 121

gender roles, 26n Biblical presentations, 52–3 Candomblé, 160–1 cell group meetings, 211–15 within church hierarchies, 73–4, 121 division, 47 evangelical Christianity, 209 evangelical churches, 146–7 expectations, 76–7 immigration, 216 and institutions, 199–200, 216 and language selection, 29, 33–4 and linguistic decisions, 42–6 Lisu, 173–4, 176–7, 183–7 in marketing metaphors, 125–8 of Polish women, 220–2 portrayed in magazines, 222–7 religious identities, 215 in religious metaphors, 111, 117–18, 121 in responses to compliments, 145–6 in settlement, 200–3 as social constructs, 220 gender studies, religious, 151–2 general, as metaphor for God, 112 German Protestant poetry, 110–22 Giles, H., 156 gilete, 160 Glemp, Cardinal Józef, 221, 222 globalization, 107, 198, 215–16 God conceptions of, 110–22 drawing closer to, 18–19, 22–3 as father, 112–14 guiding decisions and events, 206–7 masculinity, 116 personal relationships with, 11, 110 relationship with humanity, 111 God’s plan, 207–8 Goffman, Erving, 79–80 Golato, A., 138 Golden Rule, 77–8 greetings, Candomblé, 165–6

232 Index

guardian spirits, Lisu, 179 Gumperz, John, 40 hablando bonito, 14 Hall, K., 156 Hawkins, J.K., 53 hegemony, 9, 167–8 herbal medicine, 182 Herbert, R.K., 136, 143 heterogloss, 65 hierarchies, 73–9, 121, 182 Hispanic populations, defined, 29 historical critical method, 54 holiness, 80–1 Holmes, J., 138, 139 Holy Week, 80 husbands, role in developing faith, 22 Hutheesing, O.K., 175 iabá, 159–61 identities private, 209–11 religious, 211–15 stereotypical, 152–3 identity construction Afro-Brazilian, 154 in Candomblé communities, 154 challenging, 91–2 Christian, 77–9 of a couple, 215 forms of address, 163–5 interaction, 161 and language, 3–4, 156–7, 161–6 Paul (Apostle), 56–68 positive, 156 real-world and on-line, 79 reinforcing, 94 religious initiation, 157–63 role of institutions, 199–200 Sister Goldenrod, 83–5 undermining, 86–93 variations in, 95–7 of women in Candomblé, 152 women in religion, 73, 75 ideology, of churches, 37 iká, 165 images of God, 111–22

immigrants, importance of language, 30 immigration. see also emigration Canada, 199–200 change of status, 205 employment, 200–3 experiences of, 16–18 gender roles, 216 language learning, 201 role of religion in, 24, 196 Indianapolis, 8–11 indirect quotation, 58 initiation, Candomblé, 157–63 insincerity, 89 institutions, and gender roles, 199–200, 216 Integral System for the New Evangelization (SINE), 11, 14, 26n interaction and Biblical exegesis, 51–2 churches’ styles of, 46 gendered, 215 identity construction, 161 impolite, 88 interweaving, 66–7 monologic and dialogic, 38, 41 interviews, 32 Jay, Timothy, 76 John Paul II, 221, 222 Jule, Allyson, 76 king, as metaphor for God, 112 King, Ursula, 152 Koch, J., 107–8 Labov, William, 30 Lancaster City, Pennsylvania, 31, 33–6 language attitudes towards, 153 Candomblé, 156–7 documented religious, 188–9 functions within Candomblé, 166–8 and gender, 3–4

Index 233

language – continued generational differences, 33 in identity construction, 156–7 importance, 30 and initiatic identities, 161–6 institutional, 41–2 learning, for immigrants, 197–8 Lisu, 187–92 orally transmitted, 189–92 and private identity, 209–11 proficiency, 33 religious, 143–5, 173 religious identity, 211–15 religious studies, 62 switching, 39–40 used by shaman, 187 used in ritual speech, 14 Language Instruction for Newcomers to Canada (LINC), 201 language negotiations, 60 language selection, 29 Laosa, Luis, 46 Lawless, Elaine, 12 laywomen, role in Catholic Church, 9, 13, 25n Lent, 80 liberation theology, 7, 10, 25–6n life trajectories, and gender, 198–200 light, as metaphor for God, 120 linguistic cues, 54 linguistic decisions Bible lessons, 42–3 by churches, 30, 46–7 and evangelization, 32–6 gender and ethnicity, 33–4 individual, 39–41 Lancaster City churches, 33–6 organizational structures of churches, 41 linguistic markers, 58 Lisu ancestors, 179 childbirth, 181–2 and Christianity, 181–3 description, 172–3 documented religious language, 188–9

effects of modern life, 193 funeral rite, 179–80, 189–92 funeral song, 177 gender roles, 173–4, 183–7 herbal medicine, 182 language, 187–92 male and female deities, 184 morality, 181 orally transmitted language, 189–92 patriarchy, 183–4 religious language, 173 shaman, 175–7 social hierarchy, 182 taboos, 186–7, 193–4 Thailand, 175 totemism, 180 traditional religion, 175–81 women’s dress, 186 literature, portrayal of AfroBrazilians, 153 loyalty, to brand, 129–30 Lustosa, I., 153 Lutheran poetry, 110–22 Lutheran protestantism, 130 magazines, portrayal of women, 222–7 Malinowski, Jacob, 144 Manes, J., 136 marketing, 106 religious discourse, 108–9 use of metaphors, 122–8 see branding marketization of religious discourse, 109 martyrdom, as identity, 95–6 masculinity, in metaphors for God, 116 mass, testimonies during, 26n Matka Polka. see Mother Poland McAlister, E., 150–1 Mennonite church (Lancaster City), 34 mental models, 105–6, 123 metanarrative, 13, 16–17, 20, 22–3

234 Index

metaphors, 15, 104–35 biblical basis, 111 BRAND AS FRIEND, 128 BRAND AS PARENT, 123–4, 127–8 BRAND-CONSUMER RELATIONSHIP AS ROMANCE, 125–7, 129, 130 COMPANIES AS LIVING ORGANISMS, 125 conceptual, 105 cognitive theory of, 105–6 didactic functions, 104 eroticism, 118–21 expressing relationship with God, 111 gendered, 111, 117–18, 121, 125–8 GOD AS FATHER, 111, 112–14, 121, 128 GOD AS FLAME, 119–20 GOD AS FORTRESS, 111 GOD AS FRIEND, 121–2 GOD AS GENERAL, 111–12 GOD AS KING, 112 GOD AS MOTHER (HEN), 111, 114–15 GOD AS SEED, 120 GOD AS SHEPHERD, 105, 115 GOD AS SUN, 105 GOD AS WATER, 120 of God, 111–16 interactive, 116 of Jesus, 116–17 as link between religious and corporate discourse, 109–10 in religious discourse, 110–22 JESUS AS LOVER, 116–18, 121, 128. see also bridal mysticism, erotic religious writing interactive, 111, 116, 121 transactive, 111–12, 116, 120–1 use in marketing, 122–8 Methodist church (Lancaster City), 33–6 methodology, Biblical exegesis, 51 minority religions, 196–7 mock-politeness, 89 mogê, 160 monokó, 160 monolingualism, 46 monologic interaction, 38, 41, 66

morality, 50–1, 181 Mother Aninha, 155 mother, as metaphor for God, 114 mother hen, as metaphor for God, 115 Mother Poland, 220–1, 222, 227 mystic union, 118–19 mysticism, 110, 119 names, 82–3, 85–8, 161–3 narrative themes, 13 narratives, 39 components of testimony, 14 within discourse, 20 features of, 13 of personal experience, 8 tragic, 21–2 national identity, role of language in, 30 non-verbal salutes, Candomblé, 165–6 norms, 80, 167 nurturing mother, as metaphor for God, 115 Old Female Ghost, 175 omnipotence, 129 on-line religious groups, 77 ordination, of women, 74 organism, as metaphor in marketing, 125 organizational structures of churches, linguistic decisions, 41 orixá, 159 Orsi, Robert, 24 outcast, as identity, 95–6 Oxum, 163 Oxumaré, 161 parent, as metaphor for God, 112–15 parent-child, as metaphor in marketing, 127–8 participation in services, 37–9 pastoral roles, 42 patriarchy, 81, 114, 183–4 Paul (Apostle), 52–3, 56–68 peninsular Spanish, 45

Index 235

Pentecostal church (Lancaster City), 35–6 Pentecostalism, 9, 10, 12, 26n, 47n performances, of testimonies, 15–24 persecution, as identity, 95–7 personal deictics, 59, 62 personality, initiatic, 158 phatic communication, 144–5 Plato, 118–19 plurality, of Catholicism, 10 Poland, 222–7 Pomerantz, A., 137–8 positioning, 79–80, 90, 97 poststructuralism, 197–8 poverty, as identity, 98–100 power differentials, 78–9 domestic, 209–11 dynamics, 129–30 in religious contexts, 73 of testimonies, 24 through victimhood, 97 of women in Candomblé, 152 of women in Catholic Church, 13 women’s participation in, 25 prayer, 9, 15 preface, 13 pregnancy, taboos, 186–7 priests, 9, 25 profanity, 76 pronouns, use of, 20, 23 Protestant churches (Lancaster City), 34–6, 38 Protestantism, 110, 130 quotation, indirect, 58 reference, direct, 59, 61 registers, evangelistic, 14 relationship models, 123 religion African American, 150 corporate discourse, 108–9 cross-cultural studies, 152 importance for immigrant women, 24

importance for immigrants, 29–30, 196 Lisu tradition, 175–81 minority, 196–7 relationship with business, 106–10 and science, 106–7 Religion and Gender, 152 religious conversion, and settlement, 203–6 religious knowledge, oral transmission, 150–1 religious language, 143–5, 173 religious studies, language, 62 reported speech, 18, 22, 40 research locations China, 172–94 divinity school seminar, 55–68 Indianapolis, 7–25 Lancaster City, Pennsylvania, 29–47 Nigeria, 136–47 on-line, 77, 79–102 Salvador, 149–68 Tala, 7–25 Toronto, 196–216 research methods compliment study, 140–1 exegesis study, 55 Lancaster City study, 32 testimony study, 8 Toronto study, 198 research participants Adventist pastor, 35 Bible teacher, 42–3 Chayo, 11, 13, 20–4 divinity school seminar, 55–68 Elena, 13, 14–20, 24 Grace, 196–216 Horacio, 40–1 Juana, 36 Marta, 40 Mennonite pastor, 34 Methodist pastor, 34 Pentecostal pastor, 35–6 Raúl, 35 Sister Goldenrod, 81–102 Sophia, 39 Timothy, 196–216

236 Index

responses, eliciting, 23 responses to compliments. see also compliments acceptance, 139–40, 142–3 categorization, 138 complexity, 137 gender differences, 141–7 indicative of beliefs and practice, 136–7 and nature of society, 143 polarised, 136–7 preferences, 140–1 shifting praise to God, 145 types, 138 retreats, 10–11, 14, 16, 26n revoicing, 66 rhetoric, 24 ritual performances, 23 ritual speech, 13–14, 23 ritualistic speech events, 45–6 romance, as metaphor in marketing, 125–6 sarcasm, 89–90 Saville-Troike, H., 162 science, and religion, 106–7 Second Vatican Council, 7, 9–10 seed, as metaphor for God, 120 Sered, Susan, 151 Sermon on the Mount, 78 services, participation in, 37–9 settlement, 200–6 sexuality, Candomblé, 160–1 shaman, 175–7, 184–6 funeral rite, 189–92 position in Lisu religion, 193 use of language, 187, 189 shepherd, as metaphor for God, 115 Shoaps, Robin, 26n significant episodes, as part of testimony, 21–2 silence, 76 SINE. see Integral System for the New Evangelization singing, 43 social actions, in compliments, 138–9

social construction, 50–2, 79–80 socialism, gender equality, 222–4 sociolinguistics, 1–2 Solidarity movement, 221 souls, 180 Spanglish, 34 Spanish, peninsular, 45 speech, 13–14, 23, 24–5, 42–6 speech events, gender roles, 45–6 spirits, in Lisu religion, 175–6 status, changed by immigration, 205 stereotypes, 45–6, 152–3, 223–4 strict father, as metaphor for God, 115 subjectivity, and Biblical exegesis, 51 swearing, 76 symbolism, 161–3, 166 taboos, Lisu, 186–7, 193–4 Tala, 8, 9 temporal deictics, 58 Ten Commandments, 77 testimonies, 8, 11–12 analysis, 13–25 discursive features, 13–14 elements of, 23–4 framed by prayer, 15 including audience, 20 during mass, 26n as models, 16 power of, 24 significant episodes, 21–2 text, denotational, 59 Thailand, Lisu, 175 themes, narrative, 13 Thorne, S., 145 three paradigm model (Koch), 107–8 totemism, Lisu, 180 trajectories life, 198–200 settlement, 200–3, 215–16 transcription, 68–9n, 177–8 transformations, intercultural, 150 transitional speech events, 43–4, 47 trees, as metaphors for companies, 125 tropes, 104 turn-taking, 38–42

Index 237

Vatican II, 7, 9–10 victim, as identity, 97 Virgin Mary, 221–2, 227 Vodou, 149, 150, 151 voices Bakhtin, 53–4 identifying, 59–68 interweaving, 56 levels of, 63–4 in textual interpretation, 67 used by Paul, 58–9 vows, 78 Walesa, Lech, 221 Walsh, Claire, 74–5 Wang Renpo, 188–9 water, as metaphor for God, 120 Webster, J., 143 witch, 185–6 womb, of God, 113–14 women challenges to church leaders, 26–7n

conflicting pressures, 101 as guardians of language, 31 linguistic image, 227 mystics, 119 in Nigerian evangelical churches, 146–7 on-line religious groups, 77 ordination, 74 position within Candomblé, 151–2, 155–6 position within Lisu, 183–7 post-Solidarity Poland, 224–7 religious identities, 2–3, 73 role in Catholic Church, 7, 9, 25n, 81 silence, 76 as social category, 2–3 social roles in Poland, 220–1 standard of dress for Lisu, 186 Wortham. S.E.F., 53–4

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