Repentance redefined: silent no more

February 14, 2013 By 1 Comment

Day 2:            “The pattern of Hannah’s spiritual growth echoes that of many, many other women in Scripture:

growth toward a larger sense of voice and personhood rather than silence.”

I grew up in a faith tradition that believed women were to be seen and not heard in the church and, for most part, at home, too. Based on a few verses from the Epistles, an entire gender, including myself, was silenced.

Yet new questions rose within me as I began to listen to the collective stories of women in Scripture. Only Scripture could unlock my cage and free my voice. I saw a completely different pattern. My first clue was Hannah’s story.

At first Hannah was silenced by the pain of her infertility, the open abuse she suffered from her fellow wife, Peninah, and even the subtle shaming of her desire for a son by her loving-but-unwise husband Elkanah.  But the story does not end there.

Hannah stood.

And in standing, she began her journey toward growth and voice.

Her next step was an unspoken prayer to God that reclaimed her desire for a son as a holy one and voiced a heart-broken request to be remembered by God. (I’ve been thinking lately that I need some lessons from Hannah on moaning and lamenting.)

Next, Hannah stood up to Eli the priest when he accused her of being drunk. “Not so, my Lord.” A woman… saying “no” to a priest… don’t miss the import of this!

Then Hannah named herself with “I am” and “I am not” statements, again owning her pain and desire.

After receiving Eli’s blessing (no hard feelings),

Hannah went her way.

She ate something, nourished herself.

Her face was no longer downcast.

Eventually, she had a son.

When her husband went to the temple, she did not go. She had a different plan that she boldly spoke and lived.

When she brought the boy to the temple, she left him there.

In the midst of the loss of her son’s presence, she sang a great song of praise to God.

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;
in the Lord my horn is lifted high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
for I delight in your deliverance.”

What a voice! What a woman! What repentance… silent no more.

The pattern of Hannah’s spiritual growth echoes that of many, many other women in Scripture: growth toward a larger sense of voice and personhood rather than silence.

Once more, Hannah has inspired me to new growth.  She has lived the wisdom I seek: growth through daring to speak. She is my inspiration to attempt to write about my passion each day this lent. My tools are different than hers were, but we are sisters nonetheless.

May we as women dare to repent, to come to voice today. The world, the church, and our families need our presence, our voices, our love, and our wisdom.

What will you speak today?

 

 

Filed Under: empowerment, feminine, gender, Hannah, lent, voice, wisdom Tagged With: , , , , 1 Comment

“M” is for mystery and for mystic

January 30, 2013 By 9 Comments

“The more I listened, the more I recognized within myself a deep hunger to be more aware of the Mystery all around me.”

I don’t know why it is that when I attempt to meditate, my mind resorts to Dr. Seuss. It has been more than 30 years since I was first read Dr. Seuss’s ABCs to our son, but it is still stuck deep in the crevasses of my neural folds.

Big “A” little “a”, what begins with “A”? Aunt Annie’s alligator “A”, “A”, “A.”

Big “B” little “b” what begins with “B”?  Barber, baby, bubbles, and a bumble bee.

Honest. I didn’t even need to look it up. (And now I have a grand-daughter.  Lord help me!)

So, when my mind was wondering as it is so prone to do, it landed on “M” and I immediately thought of two words: mystery and mystic.

I sometimes think meditation mind wandering is a little like the stuff of dreams: a mix of images from long ago and this week!

A friend gave me a CD for Christmas:  The Will to Live and Other Mysteries by Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen

In her wonderful wisdom and gentle, steady voice, Dr. Remen speaks of Mystery with a capital “M”.  As she says,

”We will all encounter more Mystery in our lives than we will see.”

The more I listened, the more I recognized within myself a deep hunger to be more aware of the Mystery all around me.

I am beginning to believe that only these encounters with Mystery can sustain me on this journey with pain. One of the biggest losses for me has been the way that pain narrows my vision.  Recently, I have completely missed the birthdays of four good friends (so sorry Mary and Sherry, Carol, and Katharine). On some days, the only thing that breaks through are the smiles of my grand-daughter Georgia, the generous kindness of my husband, and the steady small inquiries of friends who ask, “How is it today?”

Yet there is something about meeting Mystery that allows me to feel the largeness of life once more.

One of the things I loved the most about hospital chaplaincy was the nearness of Mystery.

God is near to the broken-hearted.

God is very present in times of trouble.

I also come near to the Mystery when I wander gardens and waterways with my camera.

In spiritual direction, very often, Mystery comes near.

Also as I read Scripture, especially the stories of women like Anna , an amazing woman of intuition, faithfulness, and voice.  She is a model for those of us, especially women, who happen to be mystics.

Which leads me to the second “m” word I encountered this week: mystic.   A friend mentioned in casual conversation that another friend had referenced me as a mystic. Though I have internally referenced myself in that way, I’ve seldom done so publicly.  I think it tends to conjure up (pun intended) spooky notions that don’t feel like they fit at all.

Reminded once again this week of how deep my hunger for Mystery runs, the label of mystic seems to fit.

One particular aspect of Dr. Remen’s talk was particularly intriguing to me.  It was a spiritual practice (my words, not hers) that was designed to help develop eyes to see more of the Mystery in which we all live.

Her recommendation: journal at the end of the day and answer 3 simple questions in 15 minutes or less:

What surprised you?

What touched or moved you?

What inspired you?

Apparently, these questions were constructed through the work of a sociologist or maybe an anthropologist… someone who might study such things…

For me, today, these were my recollections:

  • Surprised by the simple pleasure of a hot shower.
  • Touched by the fear of a friend who is entering counseling for the first time.
  •  Inspired by the generosity of another friend who offered to take off work and pay for my first visit to a new pain specialist who has helped her.

 The practice made me think of the eight (yes 8) blank (yes blank) journals of various shapes and sizes, all given to me over the last year.  Cleaning up recently, I gathered them from the various corners of my bedroom and office and put them at my bedside.  I was curious about both their number and blankness.  Interestingly those observations feel more like an invitation now.

I’m starting with the one on top tonight.

Maybe you’d like to join me and post some of your discoveries here.

Filed Under: God, mystery, pain, voice, women Tagged With: , , , , 9 Comments

A Holy Rant

January 25, 2013 By 6 Comments

Why is it that most Christians assume that spirituality is a unisex reality?

Why have I, in 55 years of church attendance, never heard a sermon on gender differences in spirituality and only one that even acknowledged it as real (thanks Bob C.)?

Why is it that in a culture where we talk more and more about gender difference in how we shop and have heart attacks and think, we neglect to talk about how we experience God differently?

Why is there not a course in gender different spirituality in each and every seminary? Don’t clergy need to know about this, talk about this, wrestle with this?

Why is it that when women notice how different their experience of God is than the men they know, they think they are “wrong” or that the difference is unimportant?

Why is it that many women who have continued to grow spiritually have left the church and the church has been okay with that loss? In fact, tragically, many times the church has  said “good riddance” because the women used their visions and voices to challenge the status quo.

Why is it that we as women are generally the only ones apologizing for the complications created by gender difference? Why do we often see our perspectives as secondary?

Why is it okay with any of us to limit the authentic voice of anyone, often through hierarchy or through an assumption of a unisex spirituality?

Why is it that many men feel they know more about the stories of women in Scripture than do the women in their lives?  And why do many women think the same thing?

Why have we let the fear of boxing people into categories and narrow ways of being  stop the conversation completely? Using this conversation about gender difference to limit individuality is a real and dangerous possibility.  Caution is important.  At the same time, I believe we can name these dynamics in ways that free us and do not bind us.

So, what do you care about enough to dare a rant?

 

Filed Under: church, feminine, gender, God, spirituality, voice, women Tagged With: , , , 6 Comments

Focusing Self-compassion on Limitations

December 11, 2012 By 1 Comment

I admit it: I’ve not bought a single Christmas gift yet. My husband, God bless him, has ordered a few things.  My guess is that Amazon is going to become my best friend over these next few weeks. My work schedule has been full as well as continuing to make doctor and physical therapy appointments and block off several whole days for injections. Oh, and my husband had some minor surgery this month, too.

There are only 15 more days until Christmas (all of them shopping days online!)

As I face both that deadline and my calendar, the core question for me is

 “How will I relate to my limitation?”

Will I slam myself for my inefficiency?

Will I extend compassion to my “to do” list?

Will I feel shame over the fact that my desk is currently also piled a foot high with papers? (okay, maybe 6 inches, but it’s a big desk) Or do I feel compassion and actually (gasp) give thanks for all the wonderful opportunities I have had this fall that have occupied my life and energy and left me with a full desk?

When I think of women who handled limitations well, my mind goes to Naomi and Ruth.

The limitations they faced were different than mine:

The ache of grief

Poverty

Cultural rejection as women and, for Ruth, as a Moabite

It is an interesting thing about human limitations: we connect, even across centuries, around them as we relate to the feelings that our inadequacies generate, regardless of the particulars or extremity of our limitations.

In that sense, maybe we aren’t so different…

I have not suffered the death of a husband and son; yet I have certainly ached over the limitations that spring from my own chronic pain.

I have never gone hungry and scavenged for food; yet like many middle-class Americans, I have felt inadequate, especially this time of year, as I am often aware of money as a limited resource.

I have never known the overwhelming limitations that Naomi and Ruth’s feminine souls placed on them religiously, culturally, and economically; but I have known the pain of having my thoughts dismissed and my voice not heard because I happen to be a woman.

As I look as the lives of my fore-mothers, I see enormous and active faith in the face of their limitations:

In the ache of grief, Naomi just kept moving, putting one foot in front of another, seeking God as she moved back to her homeland.  She was honest about her bitterness when she arrived: she both exercised her faith and owned her limitations, even her emotional ones.

In the face of poverty, Ruth did the same; she kept going.  Because God is God, she “just so happened” to glean in Boaz’ field…. and eventually became his bride. Her limitation turned to miraculous provision when her faith met the grace of God.

In the midst of severe limitations imposed by a cultural and religious context that separated the “ins” and the “outs” by heritage, God “broke” all God’s own rules when, through the compassion of the levirate provision  of Jewish law, the Moabite Ruth married Boaz and eventually became the grandmother of King David.  She is also one of four women mentioned in Jesus’ genealogy.

In the face of God’s grace, faith, and compassion, who are we to fear, rebuke, or judge our own limitations?   How about some self-compassion instead?

What limitation will you consider meeting with self-compassion instead of rejection, contempt, and judgment this year?

Filed Under: Advent, Bible stories, faith, feminine, jugdgment, Naomi, Ruth, voice, women Tagged With: , , , , , 1 Comment

Ungodly contentment

September 4, 2012 By 2 Comments

“So many women spend their lives playing small. I call it ungodly contentment. “

It’s funny how adept we are as humans at turning something helpful and good into something less than helpful.  Contentment is one of those characteristics that can be a quality of spiritual maturity, or it can be a sign of our refusal to grow up. Though likely just a teen, Mary seemed amazingly mature as she let go of contentment and opened to something new and “troubling.” This is how I write about it My Own Worst Enemy.

“An Awesome Answer

The angel’s answer to Mary’s question blows me away. He did not minimize his announcement or seek to make it approachable, contained, or controllable. In no way did he diminish the magnitude of what Mary was considering in order to make her more comfortable. The language he used was immense and intimate, all consuming.

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:35–37)

So many women spend their lives playing small. I call it ungodly contentment. We find a safe little corner in the world and spend our days maintaining a comfortable nest. Though, of course, such work can be a holy endeavor, it can also be an escape, an unholy refusal to live the life of transformation and faith God is calling us to live. Our penchant for playing small can sabotage our growth and our calling to shine.

Will we, like Mary, consent to the indwelling of the Spirit of God? In powerful and intimate ways? Will we let the greatness of the Most High God come close enough to overshadow our fragile souls, to impregnate us with seeds of inspiration for magnificent, creative, holy, brilliantly shining, and newly born kingdom work? Will we dare say yes to God?

Interestingly, though Mary did not ask for it, Gabriel gave her a confirming sign: Elizabeth’s pregnancy. Note especially that even before she went to verify that transcendent impossibility, she consented to God’s invitation without reservation.”

For those of you in a My Own Worst Enemy book study (or are thinking about starting one), I would love to spend an hour with your group via “Skype” answering questions and listening to your comments. Just contact me at janetdavisonline@gmail.com and we’ll set up a time to talk!

Where do you find yourself tempted to “play small?”

 

 

Filed Under: change, God, Mary, voice Tagged With: , , , 2 Comments

Self-compassion and self-advocacy

August 31, 2012 By 5 Comments

“It is hard to extend compassion to ourselves when others are not doing the same.”

It is hard to learn to actively offer compassion to ourselves, to advocate for ourselves.

We are given so many messages that say we are supposed to wait for others to discover our needs and find the compassion and courage to advocate for us.

And we are fed so many messages that say we are over-reacting when we speak our genuine pain and suffering because it may not look like the pain and suffering of those around us.  (I heard this one just today… OUCH!)

It is hard to extend compassion to ourselves when others are not doing the same. It’s hard to believe it’s okay to activate that self-compassion and protect ourselves or advocate for our needs.

Some of us have been taught (rather mis-taught) from the Bible that God prefers for us to be passive victims.

But passivity and victimization are not what we find highlighted and affirmed in the stories of women in the Bible.

What about the woman with the hemorrhage?  She had been through so very much spending all she had paying others to heal her, to become her advocate, and she was only worse. So, she extended compassion to herself. She broke the purity rules.  She reached out and touched Jesus. She became her own advocate and found healing.

 Jesus called it faith.

And what about Hannah?  She had suffered so many years under Peninah’s abuse.  Once she stood, found her voice and went her way, she declined her husband’s invitation to go back to the temple where her abuse had occurred. She had compassion on her own pain, became her own advocate, and said “no.” She only went when she was ready.

Her song inspired Mary’s Magnificat.

And what about Mary, the mother of Jesus?  After she heard the angel’s promise and opened herself to the power of the Most High God, she had compassion on herself and ran to be with her cousin Elizabeth. Likely, not a small or easy journey.  And certainly, no one understood the need. Self-compassionately, she sought out the older woman’s affirmation, wisdom, and protection, helping her face all that was ahead.

Her song is still sung by us today, a celebration of the upside down world of God’s kingdom.

And what about Mary Magdalene in the garden? She felt compassion on her own grief, moving toward the tomb to tend Jesus’ body.  When she did not find him there, she ccompassionately advocated for herself, asking the gardener where they had moved his body.

Jesus said, “Mary” and offered her the privilege of announcing his resurrection to all.

I could go on…

Learning to extend active compassion to ourselves by choosing to advocate for ourselves may well be no fun… like tending the muck at the bottom of the pond that can give rise to amazing beauty.  I think maybe it just might be worth the effort.

Where do you need some active self-compassion?

Filed Under: Bible stories, self-compassion, voice, wisdom Tagged With: , , , 5 Comments

Positive change, negative response

July 9, 2012 By 1 Comment

“If we can muster the courage for the initial choice, we expect affirmation and blessing.”

It is a moment of being invited to grow up.  It is usually an unwelcome invitation.

When we make a difficult but wise choice, something in us expects that the world will rise up and bless us.

And sometimes that does happen: Mary’s sign from the angel was Elizabeth’s encouraging proclamation.

But sometimes… not so much.

We are looking for affirmation and we get complaint.

It happened to Mary of Bethany, when she made the bold and wise choice for devotion, learning, and self-care and sat at Jesus’ feet.  Martha complained.  Jesus defended her.

It happened to the woman who anointed Jesus.  Again, a bold and courageous choice for devotion, voice, vulnerability, and service. Judas complained. Jesus defended her.

It happened to the Syro-Phoenician woman.  Yet another bold and faith filled choice to seek healing for her daughter from this Jewish Rabbi. This time it was Jesus who challenged her at first: 27 “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” But when she persisted, Jesus called it faith and did as she requested, healing her daughter.

It happened to the woman with the hemorrhage.  She took a great risk, illegally being in the crowd, reaching out to touch the Messiah.  What a bold and courageous move! And it worked; she was healed. But the story did not end there.  It wasn’t enough for Jesus.  He insisted that she come forward out of the shadows and be known. What terror she faced. What deep healing she found.

Each story began with a courageous choice for positive change. Each choice was met with what looked on the surface to be, or likely felt like, a negative response.

If we can muster the courage for the initial choice, we expect affirmation and blessing.  In fact, we crave it.  But affirmation may well not be the greatest good for our souls, the path to our deepest joy, or the way new life happens.  And, importantly, as we see in the stories above, lack of affirmation is certainly not evidence that God is not blessing us. Hard things can be beautiful, too.

Sometimes we need to learn to hold our space in the midst of upsetting the family system.

Sometimes we need to allow others to face their own brokenness as they rail again our bravery.

Sometimes we need to learn to persist in the face of being challenged.

Sometimes we need to be stretched even further beyond our comfort zone than we bargained for, all for the sake of a healing we never imagined possible.

When I see the pattern of “less” becoming “more” in God’s economy, I find new hope and vision to face the resistance I find within and without.

When have you dared positive change and been met with a negative response?

 

 

 

Filed Under: Bible stories, change, voice, women Tagged With: , , , , 1 Comment