Julia Hanlon Rubio begins her book, “Can You Be a Catholic and a Feminist?” with the conundrum that women are senators, Supreme Court justices, presidential candidates, world-class athletes, CEOs, professors and artists — yet how is it possible that the Catholic Church underutilizes women’s gifts, which is unfair to both women and to Catholics who need such gifts.

Rubio, professor of social ethics at the Jesuit School of Theology of Santa Clara University in Berkeley, recognizes there’s been some progress in that there are more women teaching Catholic theology, doing ecclesial ministry in parishes, participating in diocesan organizations, being placed in Vatican dicasteries/departments, taking part in social justice movements and running Catholic institutions than ever before, “yet their limited leadership opportunities with no ordination have become increasingly frustrating.”

“Feminism is part of who they are, while Catholicism, despite their best efforts, has come to feel like a place they visit rather than an identity they can claim as their own,” Rubio added.

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Her book is an attempt to argue that in spite of these tensions, it’s still possible to have a Catholic feminist identity — provided one acknowledges the tensions between Catholicism and feminism — see what they hold in common and how they differ, so as to cultivate an authentically feminist way of being Catholic.

Rubio said she realizes there have been many books written on this issue in the 1980s and ‘90s, but not recently.

“I wrote the book because I sensed that more people (especially women) were questioning the compatibility of Catholicism and feminism for different reasons,” she said. “Some wondered if the Catholic church still had room for feminists like them. Others worried that feminism today didn’t welcome serious Catholics. There is a new group of women with significant social media (i.e. In-stagram, TikTok) followings identifying as Catholic feminists, but they differ in significant ways from earlier generations who had previously claimed this description. I wrote this book for all of them.”

At the outset she defines both terms: “A feminist is someone who acknowledges the reality of sexism as one of many intersecting oppressions and commits to working for the flourishing of women and all humans. A Catholic is a person who hold(s) to the essentials of Catholic faith and engages in Catholic practice in everyday life.”

Rubio sees significant overlap between feminism and Catholicism:

“Both reject an extreme individualism and see human beings as fundamentally relational. Both view the public and private spheres of life not as separate or unequal, but as inherently valuable and inextricably linked. Both see clearly the violation of sexual violence and raise questions about a sexual landscape that privileges (male) pleasure over mutuality and intimacy. Both share a recognition of the significance of embodiment and a vision of humanity not bound to sexual stereotypes and attesting to the significant experience of motherhood. Most feminists have been reformists when it comes to marriage, desiring greater equality and mutuality, which has similarities to a post-Vatican II Catholic vision of marriage with movements like Marriage Encounter and the Christian Family Movement. Both tend to question market-driven conceptions of the good life, calling for work-life balance and flourishing for all.”

Still, there are considerable divergences that fuel disagreement. Feminists, she said, have “raised important questions about Catholic understandings of the human person that prize sacrificial love and understand pride as the greatest sin.”

“Though Catholics now condemn sexual violence, feminists rightly point to a long history of silence and shed light on ideals of marriage and gender that have made women vulnerable. Contemporary feminists affirm a spectrum of gender identities and orientations, while traditional Catholic theology assumes a heteronormative framework and an ‘equal but different’ theory of gender complementarity,” she added. “While feminists celebrate women’s public work, Catholics seem preoccupied with women’s role in the private sphere. Some feminists today call for leaving traditional family structures behind, while Catholic teaching affirms the centrality of family to society. Though Catholic thought offers a strong defense of conscience, feminists ask whether belonging to a sexist church constitutes an unconscionable compromise.”

Rubio takes the paradigm of seeing the commonalities and differences between feminism and Catholicism and applies them to relevant issues today, such as sex, work, marriage, gender, power and prayer. In particular, she sees prayer and power as places where feminists are critical of Catholicism.

“Catholic feminists argue that the church’s prayer and liturgy should be more inclusive in its use of language and symbol, more participatory, and more diverse in its sources. Catholic liturgy is still presided over by men and male language for God remains the norm. Feminists seek leadership roles not to claim ‘power-over’ but to participate in ‘power with’ and to use ‘power for’ good,” she said.

In the 1970s, there were many Catholic feminists who felt the two identities could coexist, but that seems much harder today.

“From a Catholic perspective, strains of contemporary feminists seem more hostile to religion, marriage, and family. It was easier to reconcile second wave feminism with post-Vatican II Catholicism. Today dialogue has become more difficult,” she said.

Catholic opposition to abortion places the church at odds with the vast majority of secular feminists who see reproductive rights as nonnegotiable.

“Feminist concern for women’s liberty and Catholic concern for unborn life seem to conflict. Because divides between them have become so deep, I turned to stories to find common ground. In women’s narratives of pregnancy, miscarriage and abortion,” she said, “I found more commonality than the simple “liberty versus life” narrative allows. If we bracket the question of law, and focus more on hearing legitimate concerns for bodily autonomy and care for fetal life present in at least some Catholic and feminist stories, we can see more potential for dialogue and accompaniment.”

Different ideas about the role of sexuality separate the two traditions.

“Feminist views of sex and body positivity can be helpful to Catholics, but Catholic theologians have been writing about the positive and even the sacred value of sex for a long time, too,” Rubio said. “The difference is that most Catholic theologians still see sex as belonging within committed partnerships or marriage, because it is understood as a way of expressing and making love.”

Rubio said Pope Francis seems to represent both the best and the worst vis-à-vis the role of women in the church.

“Pope Francis’ public comments on women in the church, ordination and the diaconate have often been disappointing,” she said. “However, he has opened the door to greater participation of women at the Vatican and in many other areas of Catholic life. Quietly, during his papacy, women have been taking on more and more roles that used to be reserved for men. He’s also strongly condemned violence against women. Structural reform will have to wait for the next pope.”

Despite Pope Francis having closed the door on ordination of women as priests and as deacons, Rubio hopes that the upcoming synod delegates (where women for the first time can vote) will try to move the conversation forward, particularly on the diaconate.

“Women are already doing much of the work of deacons, but with ordination they could do so much more for the church. But the integration of the synodal process/synodal conversation is important regardless of the particular outcomes of this synod,” she added.

Rubio notes that for women, the balance between self-affirmation and self-sacrifice for the sake of solidarity is key. For Catholics, self-giving (as opposed to surrender) is the calling of all people of faith. But throughout history women in the church have been called to give themselves for others as their calling.

“I try in the book to look especially to Black authors like Catholic theologian M. Shawn Copeland who show how important it is for marginalized people to affirm beauty, goodness, and freedom in and for themselves. Yet they are some of the most prophetic voices, calling all Christians to a solidarity that requires sacrifice. I don’t think there is any way for a religion centered on the cross to avoid this paradox,” she said. “Like self and others, becoming and being have to be adapted. A good, authentic life balances self-care for and by others who contribute to life’s meaning.”

Rubio sees the struggle for acceptance of queer and transgender Catholics as a significant issue for contemporary Catholic feminism:

“Accepting and loving people as they are is a non-negotiable starting point. Yet, disagreements remain. In my chapter on gender, I talk about three inter-related gender issues — sexism, the quest for acceptance of same sex relationships — and current questions about gender identity. Moving beyond a traditional Catholic theology of complementarity and questioning some more radical contemporary views, I suggest that Catholics and fem-inists can agree that: sex and gender are not the same, experience is important but must be critically engaged, and gender is important but not ultimate. From this foundation, an authentic Catholic feminist view is possible.”

Being Catholic and feminist, Rubio said, is not easy, and it requires criticism of both traditions. Asked what advice she would give a 20-something feminist struggling on whether to stay in the church, Rubio replied, “First, it makes sense to struggle. If you didn’t see a problem that would be a problem! Second, take time to study both feminism and Catholicism. Third, if you decide to stay, figure out — with a supportive community — a theology and practice that works for you and challenges you to be the best Christian you can be.”

So, in answer to the question posed by the book’s title, Rubio said, “Yes, but it’s complicated and worth it. Like Black Catholics and queer Catholics, feminist Catholics acknowledge the church’s failings and its prophetic teachings, its deep prayer, its life-giving rituals, and its inspiring communion of saints. … They choose to embrace ‘conscious belonging’ — a belonging that is conscious of both light and darkness and with critical self-reflection ready to embrace the challenge of existing joyfully in an ambiguous space … participating but remembering there are problems.”

She added: “To be a Catholic feminist is to feel alienation and cooperation, along with joy in belonging to a church that offers an authentic way to be a good human, a wise and challenging balance of freedom, solidarity, dignity and sinfulness, applying these principles to the church’s own teachings, rituals, and structures. This is a faith worth staying for.”

Brian Bromberger is a freelance writer/journalist who works as a staff reporter and arts critic for The Bay Area Reporter weekly newspaper in San Francisco.