Saturday, April 27, 2013

"Mystics"-- a Critique

           Hildegard of Bingen was a renowned and respected mystic in her time, and was also an accomplished abbess, musician, and composer. In his book “Mystics,” William Harmless uses her as an example of the rich tradition of women mystics, choosing to highlight her because “she is interesting.” Certainly she is: she was the only medieval woman to be permitted to write theology, or to preach publicly before clergy and laity. She wrote the first morality play, and was remembered for both her compositions and theologies. But does she really represent the class of women mystics as a whole? Harmless repeats time and again that he dislikes the strange, psychological, otherworldly misconceptions of mystics, and so he chose mystics that were more down-to-earth, including Hildegard, who had many administrative pursuits. His other examples, all men, also reflect persons of stature and consequence, who are known for things besides their mystical experiences. Does this approach adequately capture and define the elusive trail of women mystics? Most women in this age, after all, were denied leadership roles within the church, and so could only contribute to Christianity through their experiences of mysticism and the divine. By operating under his rather narrow definition of mysticism as mystical theology—as thus mystics as theologians—Harmless discounts the rich and varied tradition of women mystics, and marginalizes women’s contributions to Christianity throughout the Middle Ages.

                Teresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich, Birgitta of Sweden, Elisabeth of Schönau, Gertrude of Helfta, Mechthild of Madgdeburg, Hadewijch—the list goes on. In a time when women were prevented from taking a more active role in the church, they added a distinctly feminine flavor to the tradition of mysticism, often incorporating their sexuality into their accounts of their revelations. In church, a woman’s holiness and spirituality were closed—head covered, mouth shut, sexuality muted. Women were thought to be dangerous, open to interference with the devil; they had to be controlled. In contrast, the experiences that many women mystics had—of becoming one with Jesus, of experiencing nothingness, self-annihilation—carried an openness of faith and spirituality that was denied elsewhere. This experience of “nothingness” arose time and again in women mystical tradition—in her spiritual and physical need for Jesus, she disappears into him and becomes nothing. It is interesting to note that this concept is shared across many cultures and among other mystics and theologians—the Muslim Sufi’s concept of annihilation, Bernard of Clairvaux’s fourth definition of love—love of everything for the sake of God, and Schleiermacher’s later postulations on “Absolute Dependence.” From a woman’s perspective, however, this “nothingness” takes on further meaning—in a society where a woman is discounted because of her body, losing herself would seem freeing.

                Other concepts arose that became unique to the woman mystical tradition. Hadewijch in particular describes her spirituality in a rather counter-intuitive way—one is reminded of 1984 with her embrace of “unfaith,” her proclamation that the height of love was the depths of hell, and her assertion that despair was better than hope. Again, from a woman’s perspective, this strange understanding of the world, flipped from its natural order, may be very appealing. As a downtrodden class, women could only rise in a reversal of hierarchical order. The clergy were quick to spot this subversive movement, and even quicker to shut it down. Hadewijch belonged to a group of women called the Beguines, who took vows of chastity, poverty, and service, but who were not confined to a monastery. The group was formally expelled from the church, and some of its more unfortunate members condemned to death.

                The oppression of women mystics is not new, and my guess is that the efforts to discredit them over the centuries have led to the “strange and otherworldly” portrayals of mystics that Harmless finds so distasteful. Women in power always represent a threat, especially when they are not part of the bureaucracy and are more difficult to control. Hildegard of Bingen was a worthy mystic, and worth noting, but her integration into the church hierarchy of the time makes her distinct from the large portion of women mystics who were marginalized by the church, and had no formal place within it. Harmless acknowledges that his introductory work is incomplete, and I agree. He needs at least one more woman mystic to make his summary complete.

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