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Faith of Our Mothers
Sermon by Catherine W. FitzGerald June 12, 2005, Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill 1 Samuel 25:18-35 Galatians 3:23-29 At the end of the day, what is really important is not male or female, but variety of voice. This week I had the pleasure of rehearsing individually with many of the women that have stood and will stand before you leading worship today. Alone in the pews I listened to their voices, amplified and echoing throughout the empty sanctuary. Having put the bulletin together, I was familiar with the texts and readings…but I heard them anew each time another woman got up to read her piece. It occurred to me that it is not too often I get to listen to others powerfully speak and reflect on God’s Word. Listening to these women, I was reminded of the importance of hearing different voices in our lives. How often do we really listen to those different than ourselves; heed their advice; regard their unique voice as a treasure? How often do we sit in silence and truly take in the Other? Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas was extremely interested in developing a philosophical understanding of ethics…perhaps motivated by having spent most of World War II in captivity. His writings largely explore this concept of the Other. He understood the Other as anyone beyond one’s self. His first magnum opus, Totality and Infinity, sought to analyze the "face-to-face" relation with the Other. At the center of the work is the claim that the Other is not knowable, but calls into question and challenges the complacency of the self through desire, language, and the concern for justice. This is a very complex way of saying we can never know one another fully, we can never completely understand or be another. Acknowledging that every Other person on this Earth is outside of one’s self is a humbling experience. Too often we assume we’ve got one another figured out. Too often this assumption kills our ability for true compassion and humble understanding. When faced with that which is completely outside of our selves, our very being is called into question. When I look at you, when I listen to you, when I recognize you as distinct and other from me—that is when I can honestly connect with you—that is the moment when I am humbled and drawn outside of my own needs and desires, and drawn toward the need of the Other. To bring Levinas’ philosophy into my religious understanding, I believe that when we honestly encounter the Other, in that moment we encounter God. Levinas’ philosophy in many ways redeems the word “other”. For most of history, women have been understood as “other”—but not in the way he saw it. Not in a way that promotes diversity through compassion, but in a way that subjugates and marginalizes. This history includes our Christian history—even through the 21st century. Mary Daly, in her pioneering book Beyond God the Father reminded us that the Ancient Fathers of the Church were not all that encouraging towards women: It was Tertullian, an early third century Christian father, who called women “the devil’s gateway.” St. Augustine believed that “women are not made in the image of God.” Thomas Aquinas spoke of women as “misbegotten males”; and Protestant reformer Martin Luther proclaimed “God created Adam lord over all living creatures but Eve spoiled it all.” Calvinist John Knox composed a piece of music entitled: “First Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment of Women.” Sadly, even in the 21st century, many if not most of the largest churches in North America still deny women full rights as religious leaders and thereby stifle their voices. When I was little my mother put a poster on my wall: it was of the cartoon character Smurfette, the sole female Smurf, who seemed to stand defiantly with a quote above her head: “Girls can do anything.” As I got older, I realized this wasn’t always the case in all times and places. How very disappointing. Unfortunately, we are all aware that recognizing the diversity of our voices has not always been the church’s practice. In many ways, even in the Presbyterian Church (USA) we still silence those on the fringe, despite our best and most honest efforts. We may pat ourselves on the backs, acknowledging how far we’ve come in the last 100 years with regard to women in church leadership, feeling proud when we compare ourselves to other denominations, who still chose to silence their women—but we still have a long way to go. There are so many voices still silenced…some on an institutional level, some more casually in our midst. But today is supposed to be a celebration. It is a celebration of women—a celebration of diversity. It is a celebration, ultimately, of God—creator of us all, whose good gifts have brought us here today. It is also a celebration of human resilience. Even when silenced and marginalized, many have been able to find and share their voices. I understand this to be one of the greatest gifts of God. Such was the case with Abigail. Abigail is described as the beautiful and clever wife of Nabal. Nabal, by contrast, is “surly” and “mean”—his name literally translates as “fool”, referring to someone whose behavior violates the social norms of etiquette or law. These descriptions set us up for the account to come. Nabal was a wealthy but boorish man, head of his household and lord over his workers. Abigail was not, by societal standards, important—she was merely a wealthy landowner’s wife. But in contrast to her place in society, Abigail is of utmost importance to this story and our history. David, who is not yet king, seeks help from the prosperous Nabal for his feast. He sends his men to discuss provisions for a day of celebration. In addressing Nabal, who is probably much older and definitely much wealthier, David refers to himself as Nabal’s son…a significant gesture of courtesy. But David’s requests are rudely and harshly denied. Word gets back to David. Enraged by the tale of Nabal’s stinginess and disrespect, David vows revenge and calls for his men to arm themselves for battle. Here is where the story becomes very interesting: concerned with what has transpired, a servant of Nabal’s household comes to Abigail with news of the events—of David’s requests and Nabal’s insults. That her servant would come to her in such a manner is an indication that there was real respect given to her among her servants—that she was thought wise, a problem solver. This is a fleshing out of the original description of Abigail—intelligent and clever, indeed. Abigail immediately goes to work. Collecting all the bounty that David requested, and bringing it to him. When she sees David she jumps off of her donkey and falls to her face, bowing to him on the ground. To paraphrase, Abigail pleads with David: ‘My lord, the guilt is mine alone; please let me, your humble servant speak—hear my words for just a moment. Don’t take Nabal’s ill-natured responses so seriously that you would be guilty of spilling his blood. See here, your servant brings you these gifts you’ve requested, recognizing that the Lord has greater plans for you and your household, and that you should not be burdened with such bloodguilt. My husband, whose very name means fool, is not worthy of your sword. Let God deal justly with him, as he will surely deal justly with you.’ As you see, Abigail is no Nabal. She understands what is at stake here. She must have known her husband’s nature—she must have dealt with this type of behavior before—why else would the servant have been so quick to ask for her assistance. One could assume that Abigail’s living situation was difficult—having had to deal with such a man as Nabal. But, “she chose to use her pain for strength,” Joyce Hollyday writes, “Her humility and reconciling nature, which in some circumstances can be unhealthy self-effacement, became a transforming power that saved a people from destruction. Abigail stepped forward and acted boldly.” This was a woman of God protecting herself and her people, and in turn, protecting the future king. Later, Hollyday half-jokingly wonders “how David would have gotten by without the astute women in his life.” While the menfolk were gearing up for battle, Abigail used the single power she had: her gifts of generosity and peacemaking. As author Edith Deen put it, Abigail might possibly be “the earliest woman pacifist on record.” In this way, Abigail represents the very best of the lived out faith of women throughout the generations. If you look at the strict laws about women’s obedience throughout history and documented in our scriptures, you might guess that following Abigail’s act of rebellion she would be punished for her boldness by David, if not by God. But this is not the case! David proclaims that her act has been a blessing to him from God. Nabal winds up dying (of “natural causes”) and Abigail and David get hitched! (Of course, this is not to say that she is then freed from her societal place as wife—but it does tell us that she is not punished, but even rewarded. If David didn’t have such a problem with women—especially other people’s wives, I might find this a more attractive reward!) Much like Abigail, throughout history, regardless of their societal placement, women have made their mark and lived out their faith fully. One certainly does not need ordination to be a faithful disciple of Christ! As Hollyday reminds us, “Around the world, images of women holding steadfastly to prayerful, nonviolent resistance abound. Philippine nuns placed flowers in the barrels of approaching soldiers’ guns during the revolution to overthrow the brutal dictator Ferdinand Marcos. Russian mothers faced advancing tanks with bouquets and bread during the coup of 1991. Women in England established a women’s peace camp at Greenham Common, a nuclear weapons site, decorating the fence around it with symbols of life.” These women did not necessarily have recognized positions in the church, or even in society, but they did make their voices of peace heard. If you look at our Presbyterian history you’ll find similar efforts by our women. Women were not ordained as deacons until the beginning of the 20th century…only 75 years ago women began to be ordained as elders…only 50 years ago women were eligible for ordination into the ministry of the Word and Sacrament. I feel extraordinarily blessed by God when I remember all of those women who’ve come before me—pioneers in the church. And let me make this clear—this work has benefited not just the women in the church. It benefits women and men alike. How important it is to hear all of God’s creation proclaim God’s praises! In the thirteenth century, Meister Eckhart, one of the great Christian Mystics of the church wrote: “we are all meant to be mothers of God, for God is always needing to be born.” In many ways, like mother Mary, Christian women throughout the ages have been birthing God into the world moment-by-moment. Much of this has had to be done on the church sidelines. But the resilient women of the church have often been able to turn sidelines into frontlines in their mission. Their stories are found throughout the Bible, including in our lesson for today, as well as in our Psalter—Psalm 131. It beautifully reads: “I have calmed and quieted my soul….like the weaned child with its mother.” Here is the motherhood of God. Phooey to those who’ve come before claiming that women were not made in God’s image. Here it is…pure and simple…here is the image of our Mother God. As the Reverend Dr. Dorothy Austin describes: “Motherhood is not solely a biological event; it is also a spiritual expression of the feminine. And it’s to be found in women and men alike. Motherhood is the spiritual capacity to nurture, care, and suffer for the offspring of this world—in body, mind, and spirit.” Each week we gather together to be nurtured and to nurture—to proclaim God the Father and God the Mother…creator, nurturer, sustainer, redeemer. We come to live out our lives of faith, acknowledging the kingdom of God…here and not here yet. We come, beckoning the Prince of Peace to dwell among us. And, each week, if we are to truly work toward this kingdom that we pray we want, then we must celebrate and we must seek out the Other. We must sit together acknowledging that each of us has so much to give, and just as much to receive. Our foremother Abigail knew this—she desperately fought for peace. We should all be so wise as this woman. Thanks be to God for the gifts of women and the gifts of men—may these diverse gifts of all be shared and celebrated at every corner of the earth. Amen. |