There and free to speak

I was flipping through the gospels, scanning the pages for a "she" or "her" and looking for a topic for this week.


My eyes stopped on two verses in Luke 11:

"As he said these things, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to him, 'Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts an which you nursed!' But he said, 'Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!" (27-28)

As this series is focused on women and not on teachings, I'm not going to elaborate on what the beatitude means/doesn't mean here, but I will say that based on other scriptures, we can safely say that Jesus was not "dissin' his mama" here. It is simply an instruction that true blessedness comes not through biological relationship, but through obedience to the word of God. (And, of course, Mary was indeed obedient)

Since the passage started with "as he said these things" I flipped back to get some context.

The end of Chapter 1 has Jesus at the house of Mary and Martha. Chapter 11 begins with Jesus "praying in a certain place" where the disciples come to him and ask to be taught how to pray. That transitions us into The Lord's Prayer. After that lesson for the disciples, there is a rather abrupt transition to Jesus casting out demons and the people watching had reactions ranging from marvel to being certain he worked in the power of Satan, to being curious but skeptical. Jesus addresses these concerns to them. He goes on to explain more.

He's drawing a crowd with his talk, the people are interested. Some doubt and are looking for signs. A pharisee will invite him to dinner at the end of the chapter and Jesus will accept.

But in the middle, there is a woman, who shouts above the crowd and lets her voice be heard.

I want to point out a couple of things.

First, she is there. In this crowd of people made up of disciples, pharisees, lawyers, and the demon-possessed there is at least one (and most likely more) woman in their midst. For whatever reason, she is there.

Perhaps she stopped in the midst of her daily errands. Perhaps she followed Jesus there. She is a part of this story, she has recorded text. She spoke directly to Jesus and he answered her.

Second, she spoke, and loudly. I so often hear the command for women to be quiet, sit down, stop making a scene. I know those words and general thought exist in this same set of scripture. And yet this lady exists too. This lady whose "outburst" was affirmed by a response by Jesus himself.

Her shout seems to be authentic praise. It is a woman speaking from a knowing-heart about what a blessing it would be to raise a man like this. What a blessing to call him son. What a blessing to know that your womb, your breast, nourished this man.

It is perhaps, also a longing. For a culture in which the fate of women were subject to the prosperity of their husbands and sons - perhaps our woman-in-the-crowd imagined what her life could be if she had a son who could do such miraculous things. Perhaps she wondered what it would be like to be the mother of a man who drew crowds and performed miracles.

And Jesus, his response, opens the door to her. "Blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it." An invitation to all to join in the blessedness. An invitation to her.

You, woman who dares to raise her voice in a crowd of men, you too can be blessed.



This is part of an ongoing series where I look at females and feminine imagery in the Bible. Click the "FeminineFridays" tag for more!

Girl Meets Life

Or, God writes more than love stories.


Dear 18 year old self,

I am writing this letter to you from a few months shy of your 30th birthday. I know you were so anxious to actually be an adult and not just feel like one, so that age doesn't scare you at all. However, you're going to need to brace yourself for this next part because almost-30 looks absolutely nothing like you imagined it would.


I send this letter to find you on the eve of the beginning of your undergraduate life. You are so scared. You chose a school close to home so you could commute and avoid the uncertainty of dorm life filled with unknown people and tales of communal bathrooms where someone might glimpse your imperfect body.

You chose the option where you could live at home, and yet you are still filled with anxiety. This was not your dream. You didn't want to go to school. All you wanted out of life was a family. You would've been perfectly happy to be married at 18 with babies soon on the way. Had that happened, I'm sure you would've been great at it. But, it didn't happen. It still hasn't happened.

Don't freak out.

You're totally ok with your life.

(Ok, maybe not "totally" - but you're happy and have a future and a pretty awesome life.)

Look at you! (somewhere around 18, before we stuck pictures of ourselves on the internet all the time.)

Let me highlight a few things that you're going to learn that will make all the difference:

If you look for it, God fulfills your dreams in many ways. You are not yet a "mom" at almost-30, but you've been blessed to hear "Happy Mother's Day!" from children whom you mother. You'll see people who need that mothering instinct and you'll figure out how to use that. What's more, while being a mother will always be your greatest dream, you'll recognize that there are things that happen in your life that couldn't have happened had you started motherhood early and you'll appreciate the bigger picture.

Right now you're still scared of the unknown, but soon, you're going to get a taste of adventure and seeing life from different perspectives and you'll be excited to experience ife in different places. That's gonna happen, and you're going to love it! Eventually, you are going to love the thrill of the unknown. You will thrive on those experiences that promise either great success, or defeat. Really, you will.

You're going to get your heart broken. You'll waver between trying to fix it with anger, trying to fix it with kindness, and trying to fix it with indifference. Eventually, you'll realize it's not going to get "fixed" and you will let yourself feel the hurt and shame of it all. At some point, it will be a fogged-over memory and almost as if it happened to someone else with only the occassional itching of the scar it left behind to remind you that it is part of your story. Mostly, though, you're going to be ok.

That body of yours? It's awesome. It is strong and capable. When you stop hating it, you'll take care of it. You are not what society labels your body type. You will prove them wrong again and again. You will feel beautiful. You will dance. You will let yourself be hugged and held without worrying about if your body is being judged.

Also, you are so creative! I know, I know, you are not the artist in the family. Your painting of Christmas ornaments is horribly childish. Poetry is overly complicated. And, what is with abstract art? You know what though? You totally could have rocked art school (Yeah, I know, that secret little dream of yours that you pursued for about two seconds before you dropped it because you "can't draw.") Eventually you're going to dabble in creative writing (yes, poetry, and it can be pretty fabulous). You're never going to get great at drawing, but you can turn a room into a masterpiece. You can serve dinner with flare. You'll wear bold colors. You will wander museums happily alone, drinking in the beauty of lines and splatters and bold swatches of color. You will one day happen upon classical music during a scan of the radio on a dreary rainy day and you will be hooked. You and art, you're gonna be great together.


This next thing is what I really wanted to tell you though. If I could reach back in time and assure you, here is the picture I would want to give you. At 18, you are scared about college and it's not even something you want. 11 years later though, you'll hardly be able to contain your excitement as you prepare to change your life one more time to begin graduate school. Furtheremore, it's kind of a degree that's attached to politics. I know, it seems crazy, that idea is not anywhere close to your radar! You hate politics. Let me tell you though, you have never been this excited about the future. For that matter, you've never been so uncertain about the future. You have absolutely no concrete idea of what you'll do afterwards. Sure, you have the ideas, the dream jobs, the goals. How it all pans out though is an absolute beautiful mystery. But, remember, you love those leaps of faith now. You love the tension between the unknown and the vast realm of possibilities.

So, dear 18-year-old-self, cry tonight. Get up in the morning and start that undergraduate degree. Learn and grow and embrace life. The next decade is going to be a doozy, but you're gonna come out stronger and better knowing who you are.


I'll see you soon,

love,

Me.


P.S. You get to live the city life for a few years. It really really fits you well. :)

dream chaser

On the evenings when I step out of the house as the summer sky darkens to black I hear soulful jazz drift quietly from a neighbor's window.

For those few feet of sidewalk my life has a deep, moving soundtrack and I let myself be drawn up into it. Timing my feet with the rhythm, reflecting on the mood. Though it is a different tune, I find myself sitting with Holly Golightly on a balcony and melancholily singing Moon River.




. . . off to see the world, there's such a lot of world to see . . .

a day downtown

Today my Trotter's sandals proved their worth once again. I walked on and off no less than five buses, down more blocks than I could say, and in and around three museums. It is my last month in Chicago and I'm trying to capture her beauty and life as much as I can.

As I rode the bus in between museums I stared out the windows at the ornate architecture of the beautiful, old skyscrapers that line the streets. Intricate carvings, beautiful stone, elegant workmanship evidence in every turn and arch. I learned a bit more about these buildings while visiting The Chicago History Museum, and saw skyscrapers as yet another form of art in an exhibit featuring them at Museum of Contemporary Art.

At the last museum on my agenda I wandered through their gardens first. A man slept, stretched out on one of the benches beneath the trees that surrounded a beautiful fountain. After almost a week of temperature near or topping 100, today was a blissful 77. I'm sure the gentelman taking a nap was appreciative of a cool sleep.

I made my way into the Art Institute of Chicago. It was the first museum of the three that actually had a line. I'd been there many times before, and therefore made a beeline to their current special exhibit on Lichtenstein. I am, of course, familiar with his "comic book" style art, but I really enjoyed his landscapes they had displayed there.

After a quick stop for a meal, I boarded the bus to take me home. It was crowded so I stood in the aisle, clinging to a strap hanging from the ceiling for balance as I stared out the side window as we sped up lakeshore drive. I didn't mind the view. The ride was a microcosm of the city: her people crowded around me shoulder-to-shoulder and nearly silent, the brilliant architecture behind me, and the Lake - glistening blue and dotted with the white triangles of a hundred sailboats - rushed by in front of me as the bus ran express up the shore. I have never felt as "at home" in a place as I do here.

Soon, people were disembarking at every block as we neared the end of the line and there were only five of us left aboard. The bus stopped, which is not odd, and the driver got off, which is very odd. After the very-long bus backed up and a few minutes of questioning we discovered there was something blocking the road.

I was near the back of the bus with one other woman and she sighed and said something about being anxious.

I'm used to smiling and nodding and then ignoring the people around me on public transit. It's the way things go. She kept talking though, and I listened. I don't normally. Blame the delay, but today I did.

She had just had an argument with her teenager daughter. She had asked her daughter to do something, and when she came home found that rather than doing what she was supposed to be doing, her daughter had instead decided to re-arrange their home (which included painting a few things). While part of me finds that situation rather hillarious (and will probably be so to this family one day as well), at that moment there was a stressed out mother sitting across from me. I asked a couple questions but mostly just affirmed that it sounded incredibly frustrating. She said this daughter was the youngest of four kids, and that none of her others acted like this and she didn't know what to do. She sounded so . . defeated and tired.

And then, while this is an instinct I almost always squash for a myriad of reasons, I asked if I could pray for her. Her eyes lit up and she asked, "Are you a Christian, too?" I told her I was, and then crossed the aisle to sit beside her, asked her name, and placed my hand on her shoulder and prayed for her. I prayed that she would both receive and extend the grace of God. That she would be blessed in her mothering. That she would have wisdom and patience and strength of mind.

And the bus was still stuck at a standstill. We moved to the front to get some more info. They eventually moved us to another bus, where this woman and I sat near each other again, and we talked some more - about our churches and our lives. How she tries such and such with her daughter and it doesn't work. I pulled out my "works with teenagers" credentials and offered a few suggestions while trying to assure her that perfection is not a requirement of parenthood.

Eventually we made it to the end of the line and we parted ways. I'm fairly certain I'll never see her again this side of Heaven. I'm thankful for that moment, when my introverted self who is skilled at ignoring the crowd pressed against my shoulders was able to join in with a sister-in-Christ and be some encouragement in the midst of a stressful day for her. I am thankful for that gentle nudging in my heart that persists despite the fact that it is most often ignored.

I made my way home, exhausted and with aching feet from the busy day. Despite the exhaustion, I am thankful for the time to soak in more of this city I love and for the chance to learn a little more about the beautiful, broken and vulnerable, moments of humanity.

Miriam: Prophet and Leader

I stumbled upon a verse from Micah (6:4) a few weeks ago and Miriam has been on my mind ever since.

God is speaking to the people, reminding them of things He has done:

"I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery, and I sent before you MOses, Aaron, and Miriam." (ESV)


"For I brought you up from the land of Egypt, I redeemed you from the house of bondage; And I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam." (NKJV)

"I brought you up out of Egypt
    and redeemed you from the land of slavery.
I sent Moses to lead you,
    also Aaron and Miriam." (NIV)

"Indeed, I brought you up from the land of Egypt
And ransomed you from the house of slavery,
And I sent before you Moses, Aaron and Miriam." (NASB)


With the exception of the NIV which treats Aaron and Miriam as an afterthought - this word of God given to the prophet Micah lists Miriam along with her brothers as the people who lead the Israelites out of Egypt and bondage.

Let's take a look at some other passage that highlight Miriam.




In Exodus 15, right after the crossing of the Red Sea, Moses leads a song and then we see,

"Then Miriam, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tambourine in her hand, and all the women went out after her with tambourines and dancing. And Miriam sang to them:

Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea." (Ex 15:20-21)

Two things I love about this passage. One, she is described as a prophetess, not just the sister of Moses and Aaron. Second, as evidence for her leadership position - she did not call the women to come to her and join in the song, but rather it seems they just followed her.


In Numbers 12 during the Israelites wanderings we find a moment that is not Miriam's best.

She criticizing Moses for marrying a Cushite woman. She complains to her brother Aaron along the lines of "Moses isn't the only prophet! God spoke to us too!"

And, I admit, this passage of scripture makes me laugh a little with the sibling rivalry and the "parental" chastisement feel.

The Lord heard Miriam's complaining and says to Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, "Come out, you three, to the tent of meeting!"

The Lord explains himself very clearly here. He says that he makes prophets and he speaks to those prophets in visions and dreams. He doesn't seem to be denying that Aaron and Miriam are prophets, but he gets a little more clear about what the hierarchy is when he says, "Not so with my servant Moses. He is faithful in all my house. With him I speak mouth to mouth, clearly, and not in riddles, and he beholds the form of the Lord. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?"

As consequence for her words against Moses, Miriam is struck with leprosy for seven days in which she must remain outside of the camp as unclean.

My guess is that Miriam's objection to the Cushite wife of Moses was that she was unclean. Miriam obviously thought that Moses had made a big mistake, that he had been fooled by love and that she herself was much wiser in understanding this transgression. It wasn't just envy and jealousy - it was superiority and judgmentalness. God made it extra clear to her that Moses is not lacking in wisdom or personal revelation, and then Miriam who was so concerned with things clean and unclean became herself a (temporary) unclean outcast.


There are a few other passages that mention Miriam - her death is noted in Numbers 20, she is mentioned in a few lists of Israelites, and in Deut 24 her case of leprosy is referenced in the laws regarding that disease. And, of course, it's widely believed that she is the sister of Moses that followed the basket down the river as Moses floated into the house of Pharaoh.


Miriam's status of leader and prophetess seems clear. Her status as leader was confirmed through the prophet Micah. Her influence and leadership among the israelites was prominent enough that when she voiced complaint it literally got her called into a conference with The Lord to nip it in the bud. She sang and danced praises to God and the women of Israel followed her and joined in on the dancing.

She was not perfect, but what person of the Bible do we meet that is? Jesus alone.