Any Resemblance is Purely Coincidental

Spoiler Alert: If you are a huge Star Wars fan and are currently watching or plan to watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars on Netflix, this does contain a spoiler about Ashoka (Ah-sew-kah) Tano and the end of Season 5. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Ashoka Tano is a blue and white haired alien that is apprenticed to Anakin Skywalker (the future Darth Vader). The Clone Wars series takes place between movies 2 and 3, showing the transition of the Republic from a force of good to a force of the dark side.

Throughout The Clone Wars series, Ashoka’s talent has been growing during her apprenticeship as a padawan. She is young but learns well and is a great Jedi. She is smart and quick. She knows how to lead others well in battle and is a commander. She knows when to seek peace and is a negotiator, not just a warrior.  She protects those that can’t protect themselves, including younglings (children entering the Jedi order.). She is respected by the Jedi Council and continues to gain new responsibilities. She loves being a Jedi. It is her whole life. It is all she knows. She, as with the other Jedi, have given up everything for it.

Then the temple is attacked. Anakin and Ahsoka are put in charge of the investigation. They know that a Jedi might be involved. And that’s when she gets framed.  Soon we see Ashoka, abandoned by the Jedi order, put her on trial for a crime she did not commit.

Of course, as in all good shows, after her initial capture and confinement, Ashoka escapes, and tries to find out what really happened. Another woman, Ventris, a former enemy who was also betrayed by her mentors, actually helps her.  However, Ashoka can’t really trust her. Ventris had been a warrior on of the dark side of the force.

Captured a second time, her mentors and governing body, the Jedi Council, are asked to give her over to the governmental authorities for a “fairer trial.” And while they do not give her over unanimously, they don’t fight very hard to protect her either, even though the only reason to turn her over is popular opinion and political correctness. To facilitate this transfer, the Jedi council expels her from the order.  She is let go on circumstantial evidence. Her own peers treat her impersonally, while isolating her and treating her as a threat. They seem to doubt everything she says – even though the crime she is accused of is completely inconsistent with who they know her to be. She is abandoned by her order. She is left to fend for herself by those that have embraced her all through her development as a Jedi.

In essence, her call to the Order, the very definition of who she has become, is rejected, as if it has been a mistake. She is put on trial in the midst of her training.

Ashoka was sent to this “fairer” trial, but given a minimal defense in front of a hostile jury. The trial was a  barrage of accusations, sideways logic, pretty soundbites, assumptions, and narcissistic arrogance. Even before the trial, she was out of hope. And by the end, condemnation was drawing near.

In the end, her mentor Anakin, with Ventris’ help, found the truth and saved her by finding the real traitor. The crime was committed by Jedi Barriss, Ashoka’s best friend, who confessed and took responsibility for her actions. She broke Ashoka’s heart. She had struck out against her own Order for their changing values and role as leaders in the war, a break from their mandate as peacekeepers and guardians.

With her innocence proven, the Jedi council invites Ashoka back into the Order. They humbly apologize. They laud her strength. They name her a true Jedi Knight. They lift up the force and how it worked in mysterious ways to make her a better Jedi than she would have been if she hadn’t gone through this trial. They invite her back in after doubt, hurt, and abandonment.

Anakin held out her token – the end of the rosary like beads that she wears in her hair – that signifies her participation in the Jedi order.

She folds them into his hand and walks away. Anakin chases her. But the other men stand back. The council lets her go again, without a fight. Anakin is hurt. He trusted her. He believed in her. He fought for her.

But in the end, their lack of trust exposed, and their general lack of effort fighting for her, the abandonment – it was all too much. “Sometimes even the smallest doubt can shake the greatest belief.” And as those small doubts mounted over time, it was just too much. There was nothing more to be done.

But to walk away. And try to figure it out. And try not to believe she failed.

Ever had the feeling that life and television have too much in common?  I had one of those weeks recently. You see, the same week I was finishing up season 5 of The Clone Wars,  I was also invited to partake in a listening party for women in ministry in my city. Sadly, those two seemingly unrelated things spoke into each other, and I felt it was worth sharing.

During that meeting, five women bravely got up and shared their stories.  Each had been, or is, in ministry.  Each told a hard story about their experiences.  Their stories had  many similarities, many struggles, and a shared anger at injustice and discrimination. For example, one woman had left ministry,  been successful in a career, but came back knowing that she would face more discrimination inside the church than outside. Another shared how her talents and gifts would have to be dampened and diminished within the church in order for her to survive.

Many women make it into ministry smoothly. They enter the process, fill out the documents, answer the questions, have great interviews, and serve in congregations with leaders that believe in them. Some move on to be senior pastors, well loved by their congregations.  They are able to move from college to seminary, into full time service without much resistance. That is a beautiful story. I am so thankful that they are showing the world what that path looks like and that good things come from calls fulfilled in the lives of women. That is how it should be; where gifts and talents are recognized first, and gender second.

But experience and observation shows that many women face discrimination and hardship in their process. Many find hurdles and requirements that don’t seem to impede their male counterpart’s progress.  Many are simply treated like second class citizens. Many take abuse silently in order to try and get to the end. Many walk away out of the need for self preservation. And many do this in places that claim they believe in equality; but fail to live it out well or at all.

At least in Ashoka’s case, there was circumstantial evidence that linked her to a treasonous crime. Many women in ministry experience a trial simply for answering the call. It is a very destabilizing moment. Often, to be sure, it is not a formal trial; it is that sudden and unexpected question “are you sure this is what you are called to do?” which can take on so many subtle forms.

Many women in ministry are forced to they take what ministry position they can find, inspite of their intuition, and end up working with similarly untrustworthy people like Ashoka’s ally Ventris. Many times, they silence their internal voices about the abuse they are experiencing. It’s just what they have to endure to serve in the church.

Friends, if we’re going to call women, then we have to fight for them. Maybe that does mean doing more for women than we would do for men. I want to believe that’s not needed, but in some ways, it is simply leveling the playing field in the face of the other, less supportive voices that we hear.

As I looked around a room full of faces of women that have been brutalized, some even mortally wounded in their faith journey by the church, it is clear that a war is on. Not one with our culture. Not one with the world. But within us. And we need do the dangerous things to fight for souls of our leaders. And to the people who do that, the men who put their social capital on the line, and sometimes their very careers – Thank you! We hear your voices and they bring us hope.

But unfortunately, many are wounded. Many are leaving. Many are wondering what life will look like without ministry. At the end of the episode, Ashoka leaves, walking down the stairs into the sunset.

When I look at the church I see her followed by thousands of other women. I see a sea of women longing to serve in the temple that has just let them walk away. Silently. Into a world. Devoid of call. Forever to wander outside the Order. Where they belonged.

Plan to comment? Before you comment would you please put your lightsaber down. This story if shared so that it might be heard for what it is. It is the experience of one and many. Please hear our voice.

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