Last week, I was at the washer (a.k.a. ‘laundromat’ for my non-Southern friends) when an older man asked me if I was married with kids. When I said that I’m not interested in either, he frowned and said, “Now, you know that God made a woman for a man. Listen to Him. 1 Corinthians 11.” When I said that I was made for myself and no one else, he started playing a sermon on max volume about demonic spirits working to undermine the family. I can only imagine his response if he’d known that I consider myself to be an agnostic atheist. This is the smaller, interpersonal version of what I want to talk about this week: religion and patriarchal oppression.

Recently, I’ve noticed an uptick in religious feminists — particularly those who follow Abrahamic religions — asserting that their religions are “feminist” because they, the practitioners, identify as feminists. This week’s newsletter argues that this is disingenuous at best and harmful at worst.

I’ll start with a working definition of feminism to ground us all in a shared understanding. I don’t subscribe to what is commonly labeled choice feminism, which is a woman’s freedom to make any choice that she wants, regardless of context or consequences. The definition of feminism I personally follow is this: the liberation of women, girls, and society at large from patriarchal structures and oppression. This second definition includes most, if not all, mainstream religions.

I recently explored whether religion has outlasted its usefulness and concluded that it depends on whether we build structures that serve its current functions of belonging, belief in a greater cause, and behaviors that demonstrate that belief. A few days after sending that newsletter, I watched this Mormon Stories interview of Dr. Bart D. Ehrman, an ex-Evangelical-Christian-turned-agnostic-atheist and preeminent New Testament scholar, and he said something that complicated my thoughts. “Fundamentalism is the problem for me, not religion per se.”

What is fundamentalism, you ask? Religious fundamentalism is the belief that sacred religious texts are the literal truth and should be followed accordingly. If you live in the United States of America, you’ll notice that some of our largest political battles today revolve around religious fundamentalist beliefs finding their way into what should be a secular government.

I can see how someone would think their religion is feminist if it is used as a source of comfort, as a guide for morality, and to encourage you to be intentional in how you live your life without taking its teachings and doctrines literally. However, most religions encourage fundamentalism because they attach consequences (often eternal) to disobedience. And therein lies the feminist problem. To convert your religion into a feminist practice, there is, by nature, some cognitive dissonance that has to take place.

While I’m most familiar with Abrahamic religions as an American, I’d go so far as to say that most religions worldwide are patriarchal because religion is human-made, and most societies are patriarchal. In addition to the actual religious texts often placing women and girls in subservience to men and boys, the institutional practices, such as barring women from leadership or mandating modest dress for women specifically, perpetuate patriarchy.

Even so-called “feminist” religions that focus on goddess-worship and the “Divine Feminine” rely on the same bioessentialism (i.e., women are inherently xyz) that drives patriarchal oppression. Claiming that women are inherently good and deserving in a way that men are not is just the other side of a patriarchal coin. I’m not familiar with every religion in the world, but I can tell you now that I’ve never seen one that was inherently feminist. And that’s okay.

That’s right, you heard me. That’s okay. Your religion doesn’t have to be feminist for you to find meaning and joy in its traditions. Jesus was not a feminist. Neither was Abraham, nor Muhammad, nor Yahweh/God/Allah. That doesn’t mean that you can’t find comfort and empowerment in parts of their teachings. But it does mean that you should be honest about the reality of your religion as a structure, and not just as a personal practice.

Because it’s so uncomfortable for us to accept that our actions don’t always align with our identities and beliefs, we tend to contort ourselves like pretzels to justify ourselves. We don’t want to be seen as hypocrites or as “bad” people, so we declare our actions to represent our stated beliefs, regardless of whether that aligns with reality.

This intellectual dishonesty is killing us.

You might be muttering to yourself, “Mina…why do you even care?” Because in a time where religion is being politically co-opted by the radical right, where women’s rights are being systemically stripped away, where algorithms are pushing young women and girls to aspire to tradwifery and male dependence, and where patriarchal violence is being amplified globally, encouraging women and girls to embrace frameworks that advocate for their subjugation under the guise of freedom is dangerous.

Perhaps you’re a feminist who finds solace in religion. That doesn’t make the religion itself feminist, the same way that my finding security in investing in ETFs doesn’t make the stock market socialist even though I identify as a leftist. Humans are contradictory. As long as we stay honest and mindful about the implications of our contradictions and are willing to critically examine and even abandon our beliefs and practices if need be, that is a-okay.

I didn’t write this essay to call out any particular creators or religions. I wrote it because I genuinely want us to build communities, institutions, and a world that is safe for everyone, and we can’t do that if we allow misinformation and oppression-disguised-as-freedom run unchecked. I believe that our communities are at their best when we actively wrestle with our beliefs, material conditions, and contradictions and decide how to live based on rigorous thought rather than by accepting pre-prescribed templates given to us by religious texts, political parties, or even our families. If religion is to have a place in our communities, we have to be honest and reasonable about it.

I’m very curious to know your thoughts about religion and the roles it can and cannot play in building a society free from oppression. Have you ever found yourself contorting your identity to match your practices — or your practices to match your identity? I want to know how you navigate the contradiction. Feel free to reply to this email newsletter or comment on the online article with your thoughts!

Yours in Freedom,

Mina

P.S. I spoke about religion and feminism in this week’s episode of Mina, Unfiltered on YouTube, which is also available as a podcast on Apple and Spotify.