Feminists can be Christians, too

Why do people assume any woman who has something interesting to say must be an atheist?
Woman holding crucifix necklace
'Many women in 21st-century Britain are still Christian. Those who profess faith outnumber those who don’t.' Photograph: Southern Stock Corp/Corbis Southern Stock Corp/Corbis

Recently, I discovered my name on a blogger's list of "100 interesting atheists in Britain – who aren't old, white, privileged straight men". Nice as this was, I'm a Christian, so I felt like a rabid carnivore finding herself on a list of vegetarians. It got me thinking. Why do people assume any woman who has something interesting to say must be an atheist?

As a feminist and sociologist, my faith often surprises people. When I became a Christian as a teenager my mother said: "Intelligent people aren't religious."

Religious institutions have rightly attracted bad press for their record on women's rights. Often, religion justifies women's subordination by cloaking it in theological language, and teaches gender-differentiated roles to keep women dependent on men.

But this isn't always so. Religion also has a good record on social welfare and religious organisations have at times been in the vanguard of social change (for example, liberation theology in Latin America).

Churches are diverse, and often popes' and bishops' pronouncements are not echoed by priests lower down the food chain. Church leaders locally often take a thoughtful, open approach.

Many women in 21st-century Britain are still Christian. Those who profess faith outnumber those who don't. Despite the significant drop in women's church attendance, women are still more religious than men.

In the 2009 British Social Attitudes survey, 51% of women said they were Christian (the question was: "Do you regard yourself as belonging to any particular religion?"). Women reporting no religion made up 44%. The 2011 Yougov@Cambridge poll asked: "What is your religion?" Fifty-nine per cent of women said Christian, 36% said none and 4% named another religion (figures don't total 100% due to rounding).

Data on prayer or worship attendance shows a sizeable proportion participating. The 2010 British Social Attitudes figures split the 55% of women who say they are religious into two groups: those who never attend religious meetings other than weddings and funerals (one in five women) and those who do (just over a third of women).

Yougov@Cambridge found just over one in 10 women attending a place of worship at least monthly and 36% praying weekly. Not bad, for a country that, according to some, is in terminal religious decline.

Certainly, church attendance has fallen. Younger people are significantly less religious than older people, making it almost inevitable that church decline will continue apace. But it's plausible that much of the recent church decline – which has particularly affected the Church of England – is not about people losing faith, but about the shrinking of nominal religion. People used to just say they were "C of E" or attend church without believing. Today they do so much less.

I don't believe this sounds a death knell for women and Christianity.

Recently, I interviewed feminists about their views of religion. Feminists, as I've argued, tend to be queasy about religion. But the feminist Christians I interviewed were striking. They wouldn't be picked up in conventional measures of Christianity-as-church-attendance. Yet they were utterly sure that they were Christians, and Christianity played a central role in their lives.

Take Beth*, 23. Raised a Roman Catholic, attending mass and going to confession, her pro-choice stance has distanced her from the institution, but she prays, does the rosary and goes to church on Christian festivals. A poster on her wall, of Kaylin Haught's poem God says yes to me, she tells me, speaks about God as female. Beth sings hymns as she washes up and feels drawn to Christian art, especially pietas.

Aware of conflicts among Christians over equality issues, she thinks religion has made her more, not less, open-minded.

Or Harriet*, also 23. She attended church at primary school but found it boring. As a teenager, she found Christianity for herself. She sees it "as a combination of believing in God and being a good person". "I guess I just see it as though, I know she/he is there and it just works, for me personally anyway." Harriet tries to pray nightly and wears a bracelet with images of Jesus. She became disillusioned by her church's financial priorities ("they were very quick to look after themselves but weren't that great at helping people who actually needed it"), and stopped attending. She's cautious about the Bible: "[It] doesn't work for me, because it's like, 'let's tread on women' sort of thing … I think God's original message, whatever it was, has been mixed up … So I think you've got to go back to basics."

"Back to basics", she explains, means back to her relationship with God.

The religion surveys, and women like Beth and Harriet, give me hope. Intelligent women don't have to be atheists – we can be Christians, too.

* names are pseudonyms

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