Episcopal Church Women

Do you remember the women’s power suits of the 1980s? They were navy blue or black, just like a man’s suit. There was a jacket with lapels and a pencil shirt with a discreet kick-pleat and a hem that hit just around the knees. The suit was accompanied by high heels, but not too high, with closed toes and closed heels. Some jewelry was allowed; perhaps a subtle pin on the lapel and an interesting wristwatch, but certainly no dangling earrings nor clanking bracelets. The white blouse, like a man’s white shirt, was collared at the neck. And at the neck there was a soft bow, marking the difference from the man who sported his Windsor-knotted ties. It was the blouse that showed that a woman, trying to succeed in a man’s world, still retained an inherent softness while competing with the best of them to climb the corporate ladder and make a name for herself. Eventually work attire changed for both men and women and individuality took hold. But for a time women tried to prove themselves equal to men by looking as close to them as possible.

Huldah was a prophetess in a man’s world and in a world riddled with sin. The land of Judah had turned into a place of Baal worshippers. King Josiah, a good and faithful man, had had enough. He ordered the idols to the false gods be smashed and their altars demolished. While the temple was being restored to its place of proper importance, an ancient book of the law was found. King Josiah read it and knew too well that the people of the land were not following God’s law. So he sent a priest and others to Huldah to ask her for clarity on God’s intentions.

Surely there were male prophets in the land. Huldah lived near the time of Jeremiah, one of the most famous prophets of all times. Why didn’t the priest seek out Jeremiah or another male prophet? Why did the priest go to the prophetess, Huldah?

Some have conjectured that the priest did not want to hear the words from Jeremiah who was known to be the “prophet of doom”. Perhaps the priest was looking for that inherent softness that could be found in a woman. Perhaps he hoped that Huldah would temper God’s intentions for the disobedient people of Judah. But no, Huldah spoke God’s words and was as tough as any man in condemning Judah. “Thus says the Lord, I will indeed bring disaster on this place and on its inhabitants … my wrath will be kindled against this place, and it will not be quenched.”

The softness shines through as Huldah prophesied the fate of King Josiah. “You shall be gathered to your grave in peace; your eyes shall not see the disaster that I will bring on this place.” As the voice of God, I want to believe that Huldah was speaking with the softness we ourselves can find in God. “We have followed too much the devises and desires of our own hearts, we have offended against the holy laws.” Through Jesus Christ we have come to learn that we are forgiven and God does not bring disaster upon us. Disaster may come, yes, but God brings us love and hope for a better tomorrow.

We women have the gift of softness. We show it in the easy times when we chat over coffee with a friend or drink from imaginary teacups with our children and grandchildren. We also can show it when we have to make tough decisions and speak honestly in difficult situations. Huldah didn’t hold back and we shouldn’t hold back, either. But like Huldah we can remember the softness found in God, a hen that gathers her brood under her wings, and with God’s help we can help others find the love of God and the promise of a better tomorrow.

++++ Coming March 1st ++++

Chapter 19

Anna

Content provided by Author Lindsay Hardin Freeman

Illustration: Claire Elam

These women who speak in the Bible are survivors, I think. Their prospects are limited because they are women of their times, of any times really, yet they use various methods to help them meet the challenges before them. The five Daughters of Zelophehad, posted January 2nd, were determined to keep their family land after their father died. It was a problem to solve and they went before the authorities to ask for what they believed was rightfully theirs. These were resourceful women, reminding me of the young women of my parish who use the resources of education to graduate from college and eventually become successful, professional women in the areas of law, finance, education, and the arts. And then there was Jael, posted January 15th. She had a problem to solve, and rather than going to the authorities, she took matters into her own hands, killing General Sisera with a tent peg to the temple. She reminds me of women I read about in the tabloids; not an ideal way to stay out of trouble, but effective for eliminating the problem at hand.

What about you, Abigail? You’re a survivor and you are resourceful. Do you love your husband, Nabal, for all his faults and protect him from his own folly? Are you the real strength in the family, the one the servants respect and trust with difficult situations? You had the fortitude to gather up provisions for David and his men and negotiate a peace. Are you in reality the head of the household? Perhaps you do survive with your diplomatic skills and gift of prophecy. Or do you survive by staying one step ahead of your alcoholic, quick-tempered husband? Are you trying to solve problems behind your husband’s back, in hopes that he will not learn that there ever was a problem?

No woman, or man, can say it is easy to be married to a drunk. Especially when there are children in the house, there is a great deal of caution taken in every word, every action. In the story of Nabal, he lost his temper over the polite request for food from David’s men. Hospitality was an essential part of the culture, but Nabal refused to be hospitable. Did Nabal lose his temper when the children requested more food? When the children fussed or played too rambunctiously? Did he lose his temper when the servants dropped a plate in the kitchen or failed to harvest all the grain before the rains came? To be the spouse of an unpredictable drunk is no easy task, and many women hone their skills of survival by indirect methods. “What if I do this? Will he ever find out? Will it make him happy for a time?” A woman contemplates various scenarios and anticipates outcomes. She chooses one. Abigail chose to go behind Nabal’s back, not telling him what she had done until he was in a sober frame of mind.

Reading about the women who speak in the Bible is like reading about women I have encountered in my ministry. Because I am a deacon in the church, I meet women outside the parish who are living in unhealthy relationships and, once free of one abusive man, immediately move on to the next one. God struck Nabal dead and if Abigail had remembered the story of the five daughters, she might have realized that God was on her side, that God could have helped her become the head of the household and gain some independence. Instead she immediately accepted the marriage proposal of David. Abigail is not mentioned again in the Scriptures without the litany of David’s other wives: Ahinoam, Michal, Maacah, Haggith, Abital, Eglah, and Bathsheba. This problem-solving survivor married a man who saw his wife Michal given away to another man, who had the husband of Bathsheba killed so he, David, could marry her, and who fathered children with all his wives, as well as with unnamed slave women.

What do you think of Abigail? Do you find her to be a strong woman with great diplomatic skills who finds a place of stature in David’s royal palace, perhaps successfully running that household, too? Or do you find her to be a bit of a mouse, running on a treadmill to nowhere and doing whatever she has to do so not to fall off? Who is this woman who learned to survive? Who do you want her to be?

 ++++ Coming February 15 ++++

 Chapter 12 – Huldah

Content provided by Author Lindsay Hardin Freeman

Illustration: Claire Elam

The story of Jael is also the story of Deborah and the story of General Sisera’s mother. As we drop ourselves into the life of Jael, it is good to understand the situation around her. The Israelites “again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.” As Old Testament punishment is often meted out, the Israelites had to suffer at the hands of King Jabin of Canaan for twenty years. Eventually they cry out to the Lord for help. Their help comes in the person of Deborah. She is a prophetess and a judge of Israel. She summons Barak to lead the Israelites against the army of King Jabin, led by his general, Sisera. Barak agrees to go into battle only if Deborah goes with him. She, with her prophetic voice, responds that she will go with him, but he will not receive glory for victory over Sisera, “for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” If I were Barak I would bet that woman is Deborah. Perhaps even Deborah thinks that by going to the battle she will be the one to settle matters with Sisera. All of the enemy’s army was felled by the sword, except for General Sisera who ran away. Sisera ran on foot to the tent of Jael, wife of Heber the Kenite. The king and the Kenite people were on peaceful terms, and Jael invited Sisera into her tent. “Turn aside, my lord, turn aside to me; have no fear.” She offered hospitality of milk, a comfortable place to rest, and a sense of safety. Sisera fell asleep and Jael took a hammer and a tent peg and drove the peg into his temple and he died. When Barak came in search of Sisera, Jael took him into the tent. “Come, and I will show you the man whom you are seeking.” Much can be read between the lines of this story. Jael’s husband isn’t mentioned as being home; Sisera was a powerful man of his times; Jael was a woman of her times, little more than the livestock in the fields. If she had been physically taken by Sisera in the past, it might explain why Jael did what she did. But also, though she was not a member of a tribe of Israel, some Hebrew blood ran through her veins. Was she motivated by self or by the larger sense of kinship?

The final woman of interest in this story is Sisera’s mother. Deborah and Barak sing a song of victory following the defeat of King Jabin and his army. Here is an excerpt:

“Out of the window she peered, the mother of Sisera gazed through the lattice: ‘Why is the chariot so long in coming? Why tarry the hoofbeats of his chariots?’

As General Sherman said, “War is hell.” Deborah made the decision to wage war, Jael fulfilled the role of warrior, and Sisera’s mother mourned. It’s hard to imagine that any of these three women were ever the same, each being an impetus for death. Deborah’s song of victory glorifies the battle and gives thanks to the Lord, and Deborah remembers Jael in the song, declaring her most blessed. Does Deborah look beyond the victory and see what has been asked of the warrior? Do we look at our own nations’ female warriors and understand how our nations’ motives have wounded these women forever? Deborah also remembers Sisera’s mother. Was it with self pride or was it with compassion? I hope it was with compassion. Do we remember the mothers who have lost their children warriors to battle? Do we lift up these mothers in support and prayer as they mourn their children’s lives or as they care for their children’s mental and physical wounds?

We all are called upon to protect ourselves, be it setting up personal boundaries to avoid exhaustion and exploitation, or be it taking up arms against those who threaten us and our loved ones. Ideally, the day will come soon when our world will accept all as beloved children of God and we will treat each other accordingly. Let us work to that end.

I’d like to take this opportunity to congratulate Lindsay Hardin Freeman on receiving the 2015 Illuminations Book Award for her book, Bible Women: All Their Words and Why They Matter. The award’s purpose is to shine a light on exemplary Christian books. Bravo, Lindsay, for receiving the Gold! It is well deserved.

++++ Coming February 1st ++++

Chapter 9

Abigail

Content provided by Author Lindsay Hardin Freeman

Illustration: Claire Elam

If you have been reading Lindsay’s book, either on your own or in a group, you may be discovering, as I am, that the Holy Scriptures are full of female characters that most of us have never heard of. To start the New Year I chose the Daughters of Zelophehad. I wanted to get back to the Old Testament, moving past the Book of Exodus, and I wanted to find a woman with a Low profile. It was a quick decision, since the unfamiliar five daughters are the only women who speak in the Book of Numbers, and the next book, Joshua, includes the high profile woman, Rahab. (Lindsay has designated Rahab with a Moderate profile, but for those of us who were introduced to Lindsay’s writings with The Scarlet Cord, Rahab’s profile is High.)

When I read about the daughters and their courage to face the legal authorities of their day and to challenge the status quo of passing property only to sons, not daughters, I was intrigued by what the young women did and the outcome of their challenge. Moses took them seriously and appealed to God, the author of all laws, and God sided with the daughters to inherit their father’s land. Reading Lindsay’s Who and What and the story of the daughters of Zelophehad, I found this to be a great little parable, just because God responds to the daughters as God’s equal children. At this point we can talk about the struggles our own foremothers have had receiving equality with men. We can talk about being treated as second-class citizens. I once worked as a mortgage banking professional in the Washington DC area. I was sent to Shreveport, Louisiana, my hometown, to gather information about an apartment complex that was for sale, but of course I wasn’t supposed to let on that my company wanted to buy the mortgage. At the management office of the low-income apartments, I tried to fit in with my marginal Southern accent and my East Coast clothes. As I began asking my questions, I heard a deep voice say, “Cum ’ere, little lady.” I went into the inner office and there he was, the Moses of the apartment complex, leaning back in his chair, feet on the desk, the man who had the information I needed and the authority to share it, or not. And I smiled, and spoke with a Southern twang, and I confessed I was with a mortgage business in northern Virginia. For me it took courage and it took determination and I was rewarded with the information I needed. Perhaps Zelophehad’s daughters used a little charm, too, with Moses. How about you? Have you stood up to authority and asked for your due? I imagine many of you have in much more significant ways than my example.

And then we turn the page of Bible Women to Consider this. The Daughters of Zelophehad have been cited in an argument before the United States Supreme Court! They also have been cited in an article in the American Bar Association Journal. These five women may have been unknown to you and me, but other people have known them well enough to lift up their name and their deeds and use them to fight for people’ rights all the way into the 21^st Century.

Parents, teachers, and mentors can look to the children given to our care and we can hope that, even if we don’t find the cure for the common cold, well, maybe one of these children will find the cure because of us. But what about smaller accomplishments? A silent woman in the Gospel of Mark placed two small coins into the treasury and Jesus pointed out her selflessness to his disciples. We can continue to place our small coins of thankfulness into our UTO boxes, joining coins from around the provinces to provide grants for good works around the world. And great and lasting things may come from those good works. Do you give a word of encouragement to others? Do you lead your ECW group in ministry? I love that the five daughters stood up to the authorities to ask for what was fair for themselves, but even more I love that their story helps others even today to receive what is fair for them. It is in the thin place of encountering Jesus when taking care of oneself that our deeds become taking care of others.

++++ Coming January 15th ++++

 Chapter 7 – Jael

Content provided by Author Lindsay Hardin Freeman

Illustration: Claire Elam

Reading anew the familiar story of Mary and Elizabeth, I am drawn to their friendship and to the solace that Elizabeth gives to Mary. Both women seem very calm about their unexpected and unorthodox pregnancies. Lindsay Hardin Freeman points out that Elizabeth, upon hearing that she will have a child born in her old age “rejoices without question, in full trust.” There is an honest calmness that comes with age; because we have seen and experienced so much, very little surprises us. Joy is a welcome change to a daily routine of unfulfilled dreams, and if that means a baby in old age, then so be it. Mary, on the other hand, may seem calm on the outside but I think she is in turmoil on the inside. At her young age the unexpected is frightening. Many of us naively said we had a plan for our lives; we knew what our college major would be, when and what kind of person we would marry, how many children we would have, and what type of house we would buy. It was probably the same with Mary’s expectations for her life. It takes years of experience and growing wisdom to realize that life happens, not as we have planned, but as it evolves. I think to find reassurance, and as soon as she could after the visitation of the angel Gabriel, Mary left her home and went to her older cousin and friend, Elizabeth. There she remained about three months.

Mary’s unmarried state of pregnancy could have led to her death, and acceptance of Mary could have led to Elizabeth and her priestly husband Zechariah’s undoing in the community. Elizabeth’s calm demeanor opened a welcoming door to Mary. Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun in the Roman Catholic Church and a prolific author, has written a book, The Friendship of Women. In the chapter titled Elizabeth: Acceptance, she writes:

“Elizabeth, contrary to all tradition, against all common sense, took Mary into her home, no questions asked, no verdict levied. More than that, Elizabeth recognized in Mary the great gain that would eventually come from a situation that looked like such great loss to everyone else. Elizabeth accepted Mary for who she was, and she saw the goodness in her. Literally. Immediately.

“Acceptance is the universal currency of real friendship. It allows the other to be the other. It puts no barriers where life should be. It does not warp or shape or wrench a person to be anything other than what they are. It simply opens its arms to hold the weary and opens its heart to hear the broken and opens its mind to see the invisible. Then, in the shelter of acceptance, a person can be free to be even something more.”

In the best of times, a friend is someone who shares the good times with you. Vacations together are reinvigorating to mind, body, and spirit. Bonds are strengthened through play. The just completed ECW Pilgrimage to the Holy Land was much more than a vacation and it allowed for deepening of friendships and formation of new friendships in the shared experience of walking where Jesus walked. The pilgrimage was the best of times.

It is much more of a risk to reach out to someone when life becomes burdensome and frightening. In a dark period of my life, contemplating divorce and severing of family ties, I turned to many people to help me through the pain. I knew who sincerely accepted me despite my flaws. I knew who wished me to go away and leave them alone. And while struggling to find acceptance of myself, I found friends who accepted me, frightened and flawed. Can there be real acceptance without there first being risk?

Mary took that risk and said yes to God. Elizabeth took that risk when she kept her friendship with Mary. Jesus took that risk when he gathered around him a ragtag bunch of followers, even one who would betray him. God took that risk when God created us, and when God gave his son for us.

May you have a blessed Christmas. May you be with friends and family who risk to be their true selves and who are accepted and accepting for who we all are.

++++ Coming January 1st ++++

Chapter 5

The Daughters of Zelophehad

Content provided by Author Lindsay Hardin Freeman

Illustration: Claire Elam