Can Women Be Pastors?

Can women be pastors? Of course! Here's something else I think: If we really want something, we will figure out how to find a way to do it. Therefore, I KNOW that if men really wanted women to be pastors, they would either say: 1. Paul was wrong.2. Paul didn't mean it the way it sounds.3. Paul is dated, just like stoning for working on the Sabbath is. Or some other way. Instead, they dig their heels in and find anything that justifies, validates, and endorses their sexism and misogyny...  including Bible verses. Like I've always said... we all find a theology that suits our biases, and then that theology informs our biases, and then the biases informs our theology. That's how it always works. Period. This cartoon is titled Can Women Be Pastors. It's available as a digital download or you can purchase the original which comes with a letter of authenticity.

Do Women Have an Extra Rib? (And Why the Myth Persists Anyway)

Do Women Have an Extra Rib? I believed this for my whole life. I was in my 40’s before I learned it was a myth. Where the “Extra Rib” Myth Comes From The idea that women have more ribs than men usually comes from a literal reading of the Genesis creation story, where Eve is formed from Adam’s rib. Over time, that symbolic story turned into a biological assumption  as if removing one rib from Adam permanently changed male anatomy, and that change was passed down genetically. Why Does The Myth Persists Anyway? There are a few reasons why I believed this myth. I was trained to trust authority without question. I assumed my leaders wouldn’t lie to me, but they naïvely believed it too. I needed to believe it because it confirmed my belief in the creation story. I enjoyed that it was proof against atheism. But I would like to take it a step further. I think it's also an attractive idea for sexism. It substantiates that men are the gold standard, while women are derivative, that men are primary and women are secondary, and that women created out of the side of man suggests that women are to be by the mens' sides to serve and honour them. It's the manipulation and control of the patriarchy wrapped in biblical creation theology. We must realize this is the case with everything we believe. Everything. We naïvely accept our conditioning and enter an infinite loop of confirmation bias that’s impossible to break free from. Once you see this dynamic, even in the smallest things like an extra rib, then the charade ends.

It's Okay to Question the History You Were Taught!

A girl reads a book in bed titled, "THIS IS YOUR HISTORY TEXT WRITTEN BY MEN FOR MEN IN A MAN'S WORLD". She doesn't look pleased. It's Okay to Question the History You Were Taught! A sign of immaturity is gullibly believing everything you're told. So, a sign of maturity is the ability to question everything you're told, even the authorized version. Here in Canada we are learning a different kind of history of our nation that has roots in the genocide of Indigenous people. It should be acknowledged here that we aren't really learning anything new, but that a publicly known secret is being exposed in a most graphically horrific way. That's true for other histories too. We all know America's history too has roots in the genocidal erasure of Indigenous people, but also racism and slavery. It's a well known public secret that is getting more and more exposure. Imagine if women wrote the authorized history of the Salem witch trials. Imagine if other than Christians wrote the authorized history of the Church. Let's pull this down to the personal level: Do you believe the version of your life others dictate to you?  Have you assimilated into your opinion of yourself what other people tell you to believe about yourself? Maybe it's time to write your own history, your own story, your own life. You are THE authority to be THE author of YOUR own life!  

Challenging Assumptions About Single Women

As promised, we’re talking about all kinds of love leading up to Valentine’s Day. Including the love of being single. Or at least the appreciation of it. And self-love. In this cartoon, a woman sits in a church surrounded by people wondering: Why is she alone? She doesn’t look half bad. Must be her personality. She needs to meet our Joey. She must be gay. Maybe. She’s probably too picky. Must be a widow. Sad. Poor thing not to love or be loved. Maybe if she lost a few pounds. A bitch, likely. I wonder what’s wrong with her. Poor thing. How does she manage? Well she IS wearing a pantsuit and we all know what that means. I know and have known many single women. (Even this is a funny thing to say!) Sure, some of them wish they were in a relationship. But most of them were happy with themselves. Loved themselves. And none of them would ever settle. They’re strong, independent, compassionate, and inspiring people.Who don’t need a partner. Even though many would be happy with one. A good one. This goes for men too. But in my experience women are the primary targets of this kind of thinking. Any women here agree? I intend to keep drawing  cartoons that call out misogyny and sexism prevalent in our society and the church. Power to all women! Long may you rise and shine… in religious circles and beyond!

Whose Dreams Do You Fulfill?

Whose Dreams Do You Fulfill? Description: The mother says to their son, "Fulfill your dreams!" The father says to their daughter, "Fulfill our dreams!"

The Role of Women in the Resurrection

Do You Feel Suspended Between Life and Death?

Sophia "Suspended" (From my graphic story book The Liberation of Sophia) Of all my work, I get the most emotional and meaningful feedback from mostly women who are reading this book. It's got 59 Sophia images (also available in my shop), each with a meditation describing the journey of my soul (Sophia) out of bondage into freedom. Here's the image of Sophia Suspended with its meditation on one of the most intense, dark, and confusing periods of deconstruction.) At times I didn't know whether I was dead or alive. I was suspended somewhere between them. Suspended between death and life. Somehow I knew I wasn't fully conscious. Yet. Somehow I knew I wasn't fully unconscious. Anymore. Like sleep. The problem with being suspended is that it is full of suspense. Day after day after day I lived in a kind of stupor. I felt like I could sleep forever. Exhausted! Fatigued. I knew the acute intensity of my journey was the main contributing factor. I knew I had to move on but I had no strength to do it. I wasn't dead. But I wasn't alive either. It was my three days in the tomb. Or thirty. Or three-hundred. What do you do in the in-between places? What do you do between life and death? What do you do‚ in a tomb? Rest. Wait. Sleep. I was no longer a captive. But I had not yet fully grown into my freedom. I didn't know how to do it. I didn't know how to do freedom. But I knew it would come. I knew that this long, groggy period of suspension would eventually end. I knew the stone would be rolled away. I knew the grave clothes would be unwrapped. I knew I would be fully alive. Finally! But I had to rest. I had to wait. Intentionally. So I decided to grant myself the fatigue. I made myself rest. I made myself wait. I was full of suspense. But I knew I would be full of surprise. Soon. 

Believe the Abused When They Talk About Their Experiences

When an abused person finds the courage to take the risk to tell their story of abuse, often the story is so overwhelming, bewildering, and unbelievable, that their story is not believed. People leap to the conclusion they are exaggerating their story.  Maybe to evoke sympathy.Maybe to exact revenge upon the perpetrator.Maybe because they've forgotten the details.All kinds of reasons.All in an attempt to, often, silence the abuser and protect the protaganist. Here's an interesting quote: "A dispassionate conceptual development of the typology of violence must by definition ignore its traumatic impact. Yet there is a sense in which a cold analysis of violence somehow reproduces and participates in its horror. A distinction needs to be made, as well, between (factual) truth and truthfulness: what renders a report of a raped woman (or any other narrative of a trauma) truthful is its very factual unreliability, its confusion, its inconsistency. If the victim were able to report on her painful and humiliating experience in a clear manner, with all the data arranged in a consistent order, this very quality would make us suspicious of its truth." (Slavoj Žižek, Violence: Six Sideways Reflections) Horror, confusion, and inconsistency accompany these stories. It's a matter of fact.  Because the horrific stories of abuse are not felt and communicated linearly, consistently, or calmly. Experts who deal with traumatized victims of abuse understand this and are able to piece together the story in a way that can be comprehended by its listeners. When people share with me their stories of abuse, I believe them. Do you? 

Change Doesn't Always Have to be Difficult and Ugly

I visited a butterfly house. Of course my mind was turned to Sophia, especially my drawing of her, "Metamorphosis". A friend of mine takes care of the chrysalises and butterflies. I was surprised to see many different ones. One is a very shiny silver and the other is a very shiny gold. Amazing and breathtaking beauty! It made me acknowledge that change, transformation, doesn't always have to be difficult and ugly. Of course, often it is. In fact, sometimes it feels impossible. Like... inside those cocoons is goo. Not nice. Which is why so many people resist it. Change can be adventurous, exciting, and full of happiness as we change from one thing into something else. The people I see changing might be experiencing some difficulty and feel ugly at the time, but frequently from my perspective they are becoming even more beautiful, amazing and marvellous. During change, we not only lose things. This can be difficult and ugly. But we also gain things. This can be pleasurable and beautiful. I'm watching this happen all the time in my online communities.  I invite you to buy THE LIBERATION OF SOPHIA... a book about my change told through the story of a woman who changes.