WIT welcomes Annie Selak (she/her) for this guest post. Selak’s work attends to the moments where the church fails to credibly be church, including racism, sexism, and clericalism. Her forthcoming book, The Wounded Church (Fordham University Press), puts forth a feminist vision of the church. Selak serves as Director of the Georgetown University Women’s Center. She has over 15 years of experience in higher education administration and Catholic ministry.
Editor’s note: WIT invited Annie Selak to write this introductory post to our new WIT round table series, “Haunted.” This series will appear every (or every other) week throughout the Fall 2024 semester. Each current contributor to the blog will spend some time reflecting on what they are “haunted” by in their theological project.
I’ve never really been one for “haunting” in the typical sense of the word. Haunted houses do nothing for me. Horror movies are not my thing. I work next to the famous Exorcist steps, yet I pass by these daily and think nothing of it. Halloween is just about candy and costumes to me; I could go without the spooky vibes.
Yet theologically, I find “haunting” to be a concept that engages every part of myself.
Perhaps haunting is, at its core, a more primal way of asking the question “who am I accountable to?” Theology is never neutral, and the subject of theology is never abstract. Theology is accountable to someone, to communities, to systems, whether abstract or concrete. To dismiss this relationship is not a move towards a neutral theology; rather, it is a choice that affirms systems of power, domination and oppression.
I find it helpful to examine to whom and to what my theology is accountable. At the same time, this question is very theoretical to me. Haunting, on the other hand, speaks to the ongoingness of theology. It is not just that I found a fact interesting, or was impacted by an encounter with another. Haunting speaks to a relationship. Haunting contains a sense of action. In a world where there are strict divisions, haunting brings a sense of porousness.
This series in Women in Theology will explore the theme of haunting. As the authors explore the dimensions of being haunted and what they are haunted by, I invite you to stay with the questions of how haunting evokes a sense of connection, a loss of control, a relationship. To ground this series, I’d like to start with two pivotal accounts of haunting from other women in theology.
One of my favorite accounts of haunting and theology comes from Jessica Coblentz, who wrote:
Sometimes, I imagine feminist scholar Mary Daly as a banshee who haunts the halls of the Boston College theology department where I study. Her groans echo in the classrooms where I took my first doctoral seminars; during my first semester of doctoral studies, I was the only woman in half of my systematics classes. She hovers in the corners of offices where well-meaning professors warned me that my interest in gender and sexuality could ostracize me on the job market. (Jessica Coblentz, “Ghosts in the Office,” p. 127)
I love this image of Mary Daly as a banshee haunting Boston College. It attends to a deep sense of relationship. Too often in academia, people’s influence is limited to their academic appointment. It would be absurd to think that Mary Daly’s impact on theology or Boston College ceased with her faculty position. Haunting recognizes the ongoing impact, but moreover, it emphasizes relationship.
The communal dimensions of haunting are also gripping. Haunting underscores that we do not live in isolated silos, but are impacted by much of what surrounds us, even if it is unsees. Stephanie C. Edwards and Kimberly Humphrey explore the connection of haunting, trauma, and the ecclesial sex abuse crisis. Using a “hermeneutics of haunting” Edwards and Humphrey argue, “When read in the light of theology, here informed by psychology and trauma studies, our ghosts can help us identify our mistakes, our pain, our confusion, our questions, and even our inheritances, rather than brushed off as trite or a useless trope” (p. 52).
There are many realities that exist, whether we recognize them or not. Haunting provides a space to hold these realities, recognizing that our attempts to categorize, name, and understand often fail to be adequate. Haunting acknowledges that there is a “more,” or something out there that we can’t quite control or categorize. Yet it can prod and provoke, refusing to stay restricted to our categories or attempts to relegate to the margins, out of sight and out of mind.
During a plenary response at the Catholic Theological Society of America, I posed the following questions:
Who and what are we allowing ourselves to be haunted by? How will we let this impact our theological project? How will our theological imaginations be stretched, impacted, reoriented, or haunted by those we are in relationship with?
As the authors in this WIT round table lead us through their own reactions and experiences with haunting, I hope you’ll allow yourself to pause with these questions too.
Image by Dagmar Räder from Pixabay
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