I had assumed that the titular question of Julie Hanlon Rubio’s new book was Oxford University Press’s attempt at clickbait, intended to draw in readers who already had strong feelings regarding the relationship between Catholicism and feminism. I anticipated that the provocative gauntlet thrown down on the glossy dust jacket would give way to a familiar, somewhat tepid apologetic for remaining Catholic even when it feels hard or in tension with one’s conscience. I was wrong. The entirety of the text grows out of Rubio’s fearlessness in genuinely examining whether Catholic and feminist perspectives can be held together.

Chapters address the book’s central question thematically. Following an introduction, Rubio examines what it means to be “authentically human,” establishing an anthropological foundation for the rest of the book. In arguing for a balance of “freedom and solidarity,” Rubio pushes against tendencies to ground human (particularly women’s) flourishing narrowly in terms of either hemorrhagic self-sacrifice or shallow, egocentric self-actualization. As the author works her way through topics such as sex, marriage, labor, prayer, and power among others, she builds upon the insights of the founding mothers of feminist theology with contributions from contemporary thinkers, both inside and outside of the church, to address the individual and systemic factors that support or diminish genuine flourishing. She analyzes the distinctive priorities of Christian and secular feminisms alongside additional theological and magisterial perspectives, always taking seriously the virtues and critiques of each.

The book reads like a comparative theology text with feminism(s) standing in as “the other” tradition alongside Rubio’s American Catholicism. Like comparativists, Rubio takes the time to examine diverse perspectives on their own terms without rushing to compare and contrast ideas at a surface level. She employs carefully qualified language, teasing out unexpected points of convergence, and resists any suggestion that commonality or overlap equals sameness. She uses the different perspectives to probe and push one another in ways that allow the reader to see each point of view more clearly, rather than using different perspectives to argue that one is right while the other is wrong.

I anticipate the book will garner robust interest from reading groups and individuals for whom the question “Can you be a Catholic and a feminist?” is lived in, if not always named. For many practicing Catholics, Rubio’s book may serve as a skillful articulation of long-felt tensions and a guide for how to continue to live in that tension with faith and integrity. For individuals who identify with the “recovering Catholic” camp, there may be solace in seeing how seriously Rubio takes the concerns of feminists who challenge or no longer find a spiritual home within the church. I do not believe the author’s analysis and arguments will necessarily inspire a return to Catholicism for those who have chosen to leave but, to be fair, I also do not think that is Rubio’s goal. Though the introduction states that the book is not written for an academic audience, many faculty would find the accessibility of Rubio’s writing on complex topics useful in an undergraduate class. Although the occasional elision of scholars’ names when mentioning their research left me wanting further depth and detail, I imagine this streamlining will yield greater clarity for most readers, and the full citation information can be found in the endnotes.

Rubio’s expertise in this area is unquestionable, but as someone who remembers asking herself a version of the title question as far back as the third grade, the most powerful argument for how one can be both a feminist and a Catholic comes from the eloquent self-disclosure Rubio weaves throughout the book, not simply from her scholarly analysis. She does not deny or sugarcoat the disorientation and distress she has experienced trying to hold her feminist and Catholic identities together. Nevertheless, she persists in her commitment to being both feminist and Catholic and drawing on the “prophetic wisdom” she believes the church has to offer.