Martha, sister of Lazarus (Tending Death - Part 1)

Tending Death (Martha)

I wring the towel into the bowl
And cannot tell – is this the water that I drew
Or are these my salty tears?

Once again, I wipe his torso,
On which he wore the shirt I made
and spilled the wine on that first wearing.

I wipe his legs and recollect
the journeys to Jerusalem
on that dusty road…

I wipe his arm and in my memory
see the embrace for his guest – Our Lord!
What joy he had to welcome Him.

I bathe his shoulder – that carried us
these many years, through invaded times.
What will we do? Without you?

(John 11:1-45)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Daughter of Zion / Jerusalem

Daughter of Zion, Daughter of Jerusalem

Lament for Millenia

When plans, that were to take a generation to pull off,
take thousands of years instead…
You tell be to rejoice?

What is this rejoicing?
How should it sound?
Should it trill with flamboyance,
or tinkle like a bell?
How should joy be conveyed…
When I am so tired
Of such a long game?

My children have suffered.
They have suffered so much!
They have murdered one another.
They have blood on their hands.
Their souls have been corrupted.

O, children of Zion –
who can possibly redeem your crimes?
The broken promises haunt me.
The shame and pain discourage me.
You destroy each other’s stories…
Painting blood on every doorpost
Over and over and over again!


Who remembers any sense of peace?
Who remembers any vague promises?
Who remembers rainbows?
No – they are a sign of division
Of judgement and despair!

Let us kill one another.
Let us defy the sacredness of life
And let us reek of fear and terror.
Let us bash babies.
Let us betray trust.

You, who would give life,
See, instead, the murders in your heart…
Each time you condemn,
the world is condemned
And redemption
is distanced from our reach.

Farewell mercy…
Do not return here.
Not until
the Lord shall come again.
Amen!

(Zechariah, Isaiah, Zephaniah, Lamentations, Jeremiah, Micah, Ezekiel, Matthew, Revelation)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Jairus' Daughter

Jairus’ daughter

When I grow up… I will be honoured,
As one who has been blessed - beyond blessing.
I will be given in marriage – but not just to anyone!

My father will seek a man who understands
the ways of the synagogue
the ways of the Law - And
the Way of the Messiah…
for I am the living proof
that he who came among us
raises the living from the dead.

When I grow up… I will be known,
not for what I achieve or what I will become…
but for this moment,
when I embodied the sign of Heaven on earth,
of the promise of life beyond life,
of fulfillment,
of hope.

When I grow up… and become full of years,
I will be remembered as a girl… vulnerable,
symbolizing lost potential
- and holy completion.

(Mark 5:21-43, Matthew 9:18-26, Luke 8:40-56)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Naomi

Naomi

This reflection may be read with plenty of pauses for digestion, as it encompasses a long life story. We often fail to recognise the implications of the actions detailed in the biblical narrative, but there must have been a ‘backstory’.

I followed him to another land
And there I did my duty.
I bore him beautiful dark-eyed sons.
Handsome and healthy,
Boys to make a mother proud.
I watched them grow
Into well-formed lads.
They were loyal and strong,
Laughing, with the love of life.
Clever, too, they held their own,
Attracting the attention
of fathers and matchmakers!

When they wed, we sang and dined,
Oh, such great celebration!
The girls came to work my house.
Fast friends, we soon became.
They honoured me as daughters should
And I loved them as mother.
In this foreign land of ours,
I came to know as home
The place where we cooked and sewed.
I ceased to miss the land of my birth
So far away, so long before.
I had been but a child when I left.
My life was here – with my husband,
sons and daughters.
Here, I shared his bed.
Here, I made his house a home.
Here, I built the future of his name.

Then…. It was lost. It was gone.

Women who survive childbirth are strong –
Strong enough to survive their men.
We expect to live, to weep our tears
And clean the body of our caressing.
We expect to mourn and pass the stories along.
We expect to impart wisdom…

We do not expect to bury our children.
We do not – we cannot stand by and see
The flesh of our flesh being wept over
Being prepared for burial – No!
Not my sons! Not my precious baby boys!
Oh – my dear daughters – No!
You cannot stay with me – you cannot!
To stay is to be cursed with death.
The widow’s mercy is as fragile as a leaf in a storm.
Go away! Return to your mothers.
I cannot protect you. (However much I love you…)
You must go.

(Naomi is Ruth’s mother-in-law, from the Book of Ruth)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Makeda - Queen of Sheba

Makeda - Queen of Sheba

Love? No – maybe it was more of a curiosity…
A fascination with a legend.
I have had presented chiefs and princes…
The finest warriors and generals,
the richest men with the greatest lands.
I have no need to search,
But my interest has been aroused
by the tales of Wisdom.
What man is really wise?
Is there such a beast?
If so, might he be worthy of my attentions?
These days, I could be bored,
for my wealth is unsurpassed,
My lands are peaceful,
My realm is stable.
What more could a girl ask for?
I seek adventure… to travel to exotic places,
To meet interesting people…
To see this Temple of wonder
Being built for a single God!
Perhaps I will find more than sights to see?
Perhaps I will find a King worthy of a Queen?

(1 Kings 10:1-13 or 2 Chronicles 9:1)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Hannah

Hannah

There is joy, deep, deep in my heart,
Welling up to trumpet and praise the Lord:
Lifting praise high!

I am able to overcome the criticism of the scoffers
Who called me barren.
For I can now delight in your creation in my womb!

No-one lease is Divine.
No-one else is holy.
No-one else is the Rock, like our God!

This God of miracles has blessed me:
Seven times I am blest!
In the way of knowing my need
and hearing my prayer,
God is shown to be there – for me!.
This is the God who knows all.
This is the God who breaks armaments
And lifts-up those who are on the edges.
He will tend to them.
So the hungry and thirsty and poor and lonely
Will receive the promises of life.

(1 Samuel 1-2)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

The Persistent Widow

Mme Persistence

(The Widow) 

Speak Up – Speak Up or Give Up!
If I cannot have justice from a judge,
I will not long be for this life.
If I am no longer for this life,
I will speak up to the Judge of all.
For if you will not give me justice now
How can I survive?
Perhaps I would not do so for myself,
But I have daughters to care for
And no-one to take us in.
If I do not speak up
I am giving up on my girls…
And not just mine,
but all girls for all time.

Are we worth so little,
That you can so easily ignore my plea?
Just remember, you were born of woman, too!

You must attend to my cause.
I seek only what is right and proper –
my generosity before my husband died
was something you praised and acknowledged well.

Is it so easy to forget –
this history of only a few weeks ago?
Just remember, your wife could be widowed, too!

Speak Up! I say – respond to truth!
Do you not believe the One we worship
Honours those who have served as faithful daughters,
mothers and wives?
Is it so easy to forget the women in your life?
Are there no widows in your family?
Who bore you?
And who bore her?
And what of your sisters?

Have you had enough?
It is not so easy for me to stop…
Not if my daughter cannot eat
because you are too slow to decide
my fate and hers.
Do you want our blood upon your conscience?

(Luke 18:1-5)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Princesses

Princesses (Daughters of Kings)

What does it mean to wait upon my Lord?
To drape the Queen in mithril from Ophir…
Exotica is given for his growing wealth
and I should stand beside him without any fear.
For this is Lord of generosity and love:
His mercies are given to complete
The blessing which he would on us bestow
In asking us to come, sit at his feet.

I, a daughter of a King, looks on
And, in this court, stands tall,
Beholding all the wonders of the realm
And seeing how the peace is there for all.
This is good news worthy of a minstrel’s tale
And should be given choruses of voice:
That this fine Lord would love us still
Even if we did not make his choice.

From what I see, the strangest of all things
Is that this Lord would love those who would take
Another line, another path away…
And choose a life that they themselves would make.
Could such promise sit enthroned so close?
Yet, here he is, with foolishness of heart
Offering forgiveness and embrace –
Allowing those who come to make new start.

(Psalm 45)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Tamar #2

All in the family 

Would you like to walk me home? I don’t think so.
Will you be safe to get home? I don’t think so.
Will be ok tonight?... tucked up, safe and sound?
I don’t think so.

You don’t want to know what goes on at my place.
You don’t want to meet my beloved brother.
You don’t want to stay over and discover another world.
You don’t want to know that there is no such thing
as a peck on the cheek or a pat on the bum…
Or a simple slice of bread…
…not in my house.

In my house, cuddling up is another dimension.
In my house, beaten and bloodied, the weak.
In my house, hiding is second nature.
Or I’ll leave the booze out, in the hope he will sleep.
But sleep, in my house, comes at a cost
And the payment is forced and always in debt.

If I turn from one, to seek consolation
All that happens is a trade off
One evil for another.
One beating for another bruising.
No justice for this body – vessel of corruption,
What does it matter who has me?
It’s all in the family.

(Absalom’s sister, Tamar, is a victim of incest. 2 Samuel 13)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary and Elizabeth

Annunciation

It was an unexpected visit.
The Messenger’s arrival shocked.
Her ‘test results’ were unlooked for
So I thought the marriage blocked.
When I showed Joe the report
I believed his grounds to turn away,
But Joe told me of his dream
And his knowing I should stay.
So I have come for comfort as
Our family was not so glad.
They are trying to save face
Believing I am very bad.
Knowing that you are with child,
It’s seemly here to seek a midwife.
Were I to see one closer by,
We’d only cause further strife.

I’m glad you came – it is true.
Welcome, my dear, sit close by.
By being here, you’re safe for now.
We speak truth – no need to lie.
I know your babe will be alright -
Seems strange but feel my own – he leaps!
Yours nearby is comforting…
Place your hand - feel yours – he sleeps…
These two unborn - proud mothers’ sons
Are subjects in Rome’s occupation
Their fulfilment, still to come,
Will see them challenge King and nation.

(Luke 1:26-38)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Salome

Salome

Finest of homespun is dyed many hue
So I might twirl in my dances for you
May my movements glisten as I spin
Chiffon flutters with shiny sequins.

Click, wink and flourish to rhythms I sway
Lunging and lifting, I point the way
Pricey, my dance, and more for my bed
Give me a gift of the prophet John’s head.

Strike up a band to play me a tune.
Give me the floor – give me the room.
Find me a pole to swing and to dip.
I’ll make me a killing with my next tip.

(The named ‘Salome’ is often identified with the dancer
in Mark 6:17-29 and Matthew 14:3-11.)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Deborah

Under the Date Palm Tree (The Court of Judge Deborah)

Come for a date with judgement!
Come to hear what I say!
Come to hear my prophetic voice!
Let this be the Lord’s day!

Under the date palm tree I sit
Sun baking as I order troops
Contrast the scene of swords and prayer
Fronds of tree toward us droops…

Promise blessing – heaven and hell
I utter sentence with my breath
I speak with matron judgement voice
Sending many toward their death.

No other prophetess so bright
Is given duty to release
The armies into battle’s fight
To bring about a temporary peace.

(The only named female Judge in Scripture, Deborah was a prophet who held court under a date palm. Her name means ‘bright lights’. Her orders heralded 40 years of peace. Judges 4)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Miriam

Prophetic footwork  (Miriam’s word)

Pointing toes and tapping heels -
Sisters, sing along.
The title prophetess is forgot
When skirts flurry and passion twirls.
This sensuous movement carries
Spirit among the people
In a way words cannot convey.
O Joy – Delight – Lunge and Lift!
We Jump and Leap – our hearts bursting.
A pause to still a ready self
As summoned energy is released
To praise with every cell and fibre
Proclaiming Heaven’ presence here.

(Exodus 15:20 Miriam)

(C) 2017, A. Koh-Butler

Herodias

Ballet Mother

All those feathers and sequins!
And – ah – One….. Two….. Three….. Hop!
A little higher there – and
Nice feet! Nice turn!
Nice cheesy smile!

Dancing is an art and craft.
It moves hearts and other parts.
Seduction? Perhaps.
A bow, a glance, a twist, revealing flesh.

But flesh revealed on this occasion
is not the flashing dancer’s teeth
But, bloodied neck and pale visage
Belong to John, not Salome.

Oh daughter dear, how beautifully you dance.
Your flair belies the price to pay.
So ‘easy’ you make it look.
So ‘easy’ man can lose his life
For payment of a woman’s price.

My daughter is a star tonight.
She kills them in that dress.

(Herodias – Mark:17, Matthew 14:3-12, Luke 3:18-20)


© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Bernice

Tart

‘Tart’ - When traveling in Northern Ireland, every wonderful church and home I visited served the local speciality of Apple Tart… it was not an oversweet apple pie, but an apple and pastry construction with a good degree of ‘tart-ness’.  

Sweetness, turned sour,
from being left out and overused.
Gentle inclinations, turned bitter,
from too much attention.
Boldness, turned pushiness,
from too much temptation.
Love, turned lust,
from addiction to sex.

O Bernice, were you created for this?
O Child of Heaven, how your Parent weeps.
Why search for love in every other corner,
When love is found in heart of God for you.

How came you to long for so many embraces?
Were you abused? Rejected? Hurt?
Can you find no peace in your own company?
Or mine?
What drives you to such distraction?

Who provides for your understanding?
Who listens to your questions and your tales?
Do you have dreams beyond the presentation
of your body for the sake of others?
What more is there of you?

(Bernice – Acts 25:13, 23; 26:30)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Merab

Making Arrangements (Merab)

Grabbing attention and and seeking out talent,
Saul wears the match-maker’s shawl.
Finding my husband, he chooses a shepherd,
Upon the rock of Goliath’s fall.

In seeking our futures, I ask – and what else?
Oh Jonno, dear brother, what has he found you?
Do you get a say in who you will bed?
Seek papa a shepherdess, or a shepherd, too?

Now my future hangs on a thread of silk.
I was birthed to become a Queen in some foreign land.
But here, would we bring lambs into the Royal hall?
Will we gather lyres into some chamber band?

(1 and 2 Samuel – Princess Merab was Saul eldest daughter, sister to Jonathon and Mical. She was originally promised to David in an arranged marriage after he killed Goliath.)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Earth-hour - children's prayer

DEAP – Drop Everything And Pray

EARTH-HOUR

Leader: As we stop with darkness around,
We remember God was there before the light.
God made the light and everything that came after.
We give thanks to God and pray for God’s BIG WORLD!


A Small-group Prayer for EARTH-HOUR

(based on a prayer from Scotland – each call and response 
can have an action that is copied by the other members of the group)


Christ as a light,
Shine in our hearts and guide us.

Christ as a cover,
overshadow and protect us,

Christ be under us,
Guide our feet on the grass and the sand.

Christ be over us,
Breathe on us in the breeze.

Christ be before us,
Show us the Way of right path.

Christ be behind us,
Do not let us forget our story.

Christ be within us,
Growing us in truth.

Christ be outside us,
Like a warm blanket to be wrapped up in.

Christ as a light
Shine in our hearts and guide us.

Rahab

Enough Rope (Rahab)

In the wall, you’ll find my place
Here I meet every desire
You can leave without a trace
So my story may inspire.

Here the place to comfort spies
Lonely from ongoing war
Tell my tales and form my lies
Bring your coin – I’d not be poor.

Soldiers come to find you out
Searching with platoon of guard
Hide up top and mind my shout
Keeping quiet won’t be hard.

Do not think I am a maid
Naivety has no place here
This working girl must be paid
Lest betrayal leads to fear.

As I save your sorry arse
Note I want my own reward
Do not try your words to parse
Witness my claim on your Lord.

I will help you to get free -
You must promise to be brave.
Your commitment’s not just for me
But all my family’s lives to save.

Make your vow and check what’s said
When walls do fall and battle’s won
We won’t be among the dead
When invasion has been done.

(Rahab – Joshua 2)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Sermon - Women of Sychar and Shecham YrA-Lent3

Pilgrim Uniting Church    8am, Sunday 19th March 2017

Readings Exodus 17:1-7 and John 4:5-42

Reflection of a 2nd Gen Migrant on Harmony Day 2017

Terry and I live in the city – only 3 blocks from here. In the past we have lived in Manses and grown our own vegetables, but now we enjoy shopping at the Central Markets and living close to Chinatown. There are many things we love about living here and this community is a wonderful home for us. Adelaide is rightly one of the most ‘livable’ cities in the world.

After living here for more than two years I have something to share about the state of the Church… The most confronting and shocking thing for me walking into my first Presbytery and Synod meeting was to look around the room and see about 290 ‘white’ people and half a dozen indigenous people… and one other Asian, Do Young, who was new, like me.  

(Amelia… about 3 months?)


Coming from the East Coast, this was an experience of being alien and different. It was also a bit scary.





Our diversity is meant to make Australia a great place to live…
Harmony Day is a celebration of our cultural diversity – a day of cultural respect for everyone who calls Australia home. Held every year on 21 March. The Day coincides with the United Nations International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.

The message of Harmony Day is ‘everyone belongs’, the Day aims to engage people to participate in their community, respect cultural and religious diversity and foster sense of belonging for everyone.
Since 1999, more than 70,000 Harmony Day events have been held in childcare centres, schools, community groups, churches, businesses and federal, state and local government agencies across Australia.

• around 45 per cent of Australians were born overseas or have at least one parent who was
• we identify with about 300 ancestries
• since 1945, more than 7.5 million people have migrated to Australia
• 85 per cent of Australians agree multiculturalism has been good for Australia
• apart from English, the most common languages spoken in Australia are Mandarin, Italian, Arabic, Cantonese, Greek, Vietnamese, Tagalog/Filipino, Spanish and Hindi
• more than 60 Indigenous languages are spoken in Australia.
(ABS data 2011 and Harmony Day website)

Most of us have grown up have grown up with the narrative “Australia is the lucky country”. We believe it is a privilege to come here, to live here and to be ‘lucky’.

How, then, do we think of migration? Is it a pilgrimage that has arrival as a reward?
Whatever cost, being here is an indication of ‘good luck’? This is, perhaps, the promised land?

Let us, for a moment, think about migration…
what it takes to leave where one has been and journey to the unknown.

This was certainly the experience of the Israelites as they moved through the desert…

(Song – “Is the Lord with us” by Don Stewart – Verse 1) 

1. They were moving through the desert — they were hungry and sore —
and they started asking loudly, "What for?!"

Why are we here? Where are we going?
Don't like the scenery, don't like the plot.
Is the Lord with us, Is the Lord with us, with us or not?

Migration stories challenge us to consider how and when and where we experience God. Is God to be found in the promised Land or in the pilgrimage journey? How and When and Where do we worship?
When Jesus and the Samaritan Woman have their long and famous encounter, this becomes a central part of their conversation.  In their repartee we sense a dancing around how they belong to different communities and how belonging is defined by place and behaviour.

There is a distinction between them because their places of worship are in different places.Maintaining worship and identity when traveling or migrating is difficult. Not having a family home is one thing, but not having a place to encounter and commune with God adds a whole other dimension to displacement.

The Samaritan Woman brings the story of her heritage to this encounter. Her ancestors were part of the Northern Kingdom, taken into captivity and intermarried and corrupted by Babylonians and others. Yet – they still worshipped Yahweh. They were ostracized because they were no longer ‘pure’.

They were mixed blood… mongrels… half-castes. If these terms seem shocking, we should be aware… in our own Australian history, they have been used to describe many Australians… First Australians mixed with Second Peoples and Migrants of mixed ethnicity or Hyphenated Identity, like me. Many in our society still regard such mixture as corruption, or at least with some suspicion… as they did when Catholics and Protestants intermarried… or Germans and English… or Scottish and French… Much of the concern arises from fear of ‘the other’… disagreements, wars, breeches of trust, make us suspicious…

The very site of Jacob’s well would remind the early readers of such distrust… Does the name Shechem ring a bell? Shecham is the name of the place where Jacob’s well is. It is the name of the ancestral place where the Samaritan Woman comes from. It is the name that first appears in Genesis 34...

(Genesis 34 - Dinah’s story – extracts from the Jewish Women's Archive) 

The story is set during the ancestral period in the city of Shechem. Dinah goes out “to visit the women of the region” (the indigenous people, 34:1). The phrase implies an openness to and acceptance of outsiders. Dinah’s subsequent sexual intercourse with Shechem, the Hivite prince of the region, is the ultimate symbol of acceptance. And Hamor speaks to Jacob about “giving” his daughter in marriage to Shechem, in the same way that the Jacobites and Shechemites will "give and take” wives, live and trade in the same region, and hold property together peacefully. 

But separatist tendencies by Jacob’s sons are threatened by this possibility and by Shechem’s intercourse with Dinah. They want to resist intermarriage. Their idea of “give and take” is “taking” the sword, killing all the Shechemite males, after they had converted to the Covenant by being circumcised, plundering the city, and taking their wives and children. The story passes “judgment” (the meaning of Dinah’s name) on their friendly attitude. It is the story of the first ethnic genocide… of course, it could never happen in Palestine… or here!

(Song – “Is the Lord with us” by Don Stewart – Verse 2 and Bridge)

2. Some are hungry, some are greedy, and there’s always a war.
So we keep on asking loudly, “What for?!” (chorus) 

Why are we here? Where are we going?
Don't like the scenery, don't like the plot.
Is the Lord with us, Is the Lord with us, with us or not? 

Is the Lord with us when the house is burning to the ground?
Is the Lord with us when a child is dead?
Is the Lord with us when we have so much it weighs us down,
while a countless number don't even have bread? 

Why are we here? Where are we going?
Don't like the scenery, don't like the plot.
Is the Lord with us, Is the Lord with us, with us or not?

Fear of ‘the other’… the fear of Canaanites and Israelites… of Palestinian and Jew?
When the North and South Kingdoms of Judah and Israel broke up it was at that same site of Shechem… between Mt Ebal and Mt Gerazim… this was where the faith was declared by all the nation at the naming and coronation of the new King (Deuteronomy). After a series of particularly bad kings, the people came together and started their list of blessings and curses and ended up just cursing one another and going home, rather than finding a way of reconciling enough to stay together. It was the sin of division.

Years later, this sin of ‘cursing the other’ still impacts on Jesus and the woman at the well. Yet, what Jesus promises is the possibility of worshipping together, not in a place, but in spirit and in truth…
For this to happen, what is required is a coming together…

Reconciliation!

The promise of unity within the context of diversity often seems too difficult to bother with, yet – it is the requirement for Heaven (where all nations will worship God). If that I to happen – if we are ever to worship in spirit and in truth, we must seek out the ‘others’ to worship alongside them… to mingle our voices… to discover God’s will for the weaving together of a new heaven and a new earth.

What would it mean for us to focus our invitations, not on people like us, but to people who are different and ‘other’?
What would it mean for us to intentionally seek out greater diversity?
What would it take for us to start to become household with the Chinese who worship here? We share a place… what else might we share?

As part of my Lenten discipline, I have been writing reflections on the women of the scriptures, hence my heightened awareness of the connections between Dinah and the Samaritan Woman…
________________________________________

Woman of Sychar

Between the mountains of curses and blessings
We hold the memory of prophets and kings.

I follow the footsteps of Dinah’s shaming
To draw water for cooking and washing small-things.

Like Dinah, the men in my life led to naming
That I could not wed a husband of mine.

Yet lonely I’m not for I live with another
I survive with whoever is there at the time.

For such is the life of Samaria’s woman
That during the day I would go to the well.

I am met and conversed with – by a Messiah!
My story he details and chooses to tell.

We joust with our words in long repartee -
A dialogue given for many to comment.

His wisdom and care lightens my spirit.
Somehow I know I am called to speak out.

I run into town to tell all and sundry –
Here is good news – let there be no doubt.

I follow Him now – and will do so forever
Join with me in song – Join with me to shout:

Hosanna! Hosanna! The Lord is come!

(Samaritan Woman at the Well – John 4)   © 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Asaneth

Date Evangelism - Asaneth’s story

(Daughter of Potipherah, who was Pharoah’s Counsellor. She was given to Joseph by Pharoah and bore two sons: Manasseh and Ephraim. “Jospeh and Aseneth” is an apocryphal expansion on the Genesis story.)

Asaneth
In courts of business and of prayer,
I lift my glance and blessings share.
My beauty publicly adorns
The sacrifices brought each morn.

Acclaimed I am for face and frame.
For goddess worship I am named.
Shield-maiden priestess of the land
I gift the water to the sand.

Potipherah
Gentle maiden – daughter dear…
Our Pharoah brings your wedding near.
You are to stand a Joseph’s side
You will become his gifted bride.

Joseph
Haughty maiden! Cast your arrows down!
Remove from your brow the idol’s red crown.
No longer wear the signs on your dress
Of the warrior Neith – Egyptian goddess.

To my troth comes the time to take on a new life
Share my bed if you will, but to be my wife
It is not enough with me to lie
First you must worship the Lord Adonai.

Renounce the ways of Egypt’s deities.
Turn to Yahweh in your piety.
Make my heart and soul your own
As I make Egypt my home.

Asaneth
How can this be? My world is torn.
Would I another into new life be born?
Now to Yahweh should I turn?
No longer make Naith’s offerings burn?

What is this warrioress’ defeat
That I should discard and deplete
All I have valued and have known
Now that this new Lord is shown?

My would-be husband gives his sign
That his religion should be mine.
An act of faith to pray this way
And enter into this new day.

(Asanath = Daughter of Neith.  Neith was an early goddess in the Egyptian pantheon.)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Puah (Exodus)

Puah

Midwife

Every few days I gather herbs.
Relief I offer, comfort for discomfort.
A hand to hold, words to soothe…
I bring a tisane or a blanket.
I hush the visitor and talk to grandma,
Stroking your forehead, letting wrinkles be smoothed.

I say the prayers in the tongue of our heart.
I keep watch and try to shield the birth’s timing.
It would not do for others to know.
So we quiet your screams and stifle all noise,
Helping you keep this baby a secret,
In the hope it may be allowed to grow.

My duty and role have been challenged of late:
I have been ordered to knife the boys,
To still their lives before they start.
But how does one face a mother’s despair
Of, better yet, her terror and pleading?
I cannot do the deed, for my part!

How are we to save the condemned?
What kind of ruse can work in this place?
I wonder at all the innocence lost.
This is what drives me to help and take risks.
This is how we must take to subversion -
Into a river a basket is tossed!

(Exodus)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Dinah

Shechem’s Woman

The complexity of Law
Leaves men’s blood upon the floor
Of the home I should have known
And the seeds I should have sown
Are stolen by my brothers
To prevent my being mother
To a nation made of converts
For our purity it would subvert.

They said that I was wronged
That I could never here belong
Yet they wanted land to gain
Ignoring all my pain
Ensuring three days’ tarry
To prevent that we should marry.
Instead of marriage bed
My husband now is dead.

So now we’ll never see
What might have come to be
Had Shechem been a Jew
Beyond a day or two.
But Jacob’s beloved daughter
Saw salvation's slaughter -
Vengeance, hate and pride
Prevented Dinah’s bride.

(Dinah – Genesis 34)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Joanna

Joanna’s Company

Unknowing, I approached
to seek a new tomorrow.
Pain, I had carried,
Suffering and sorrow.
In his word and touch and glance
My energies renewed,
Among disciples, soon I grew.
The Company was good.
In my turning to the Lord
I found in him my shield.
In his cleansing, blessing love,
In mind and body, healed.

Unpracticed, I approached
To offer what I could.
To serve, my goal, in any way -
I hope he understood.
In my word and touch and glance
I hoped to pay the honour due.
With that Company of faith
We trod the path of Truth.
Toward the end, it was so hard
Safety, became the tempt
But on the final path to death
Our presence might have helped.

We women stayed to tend the broken
Our spirits shattered, sun turned dark.
The Romans watched the men depart.
The scene was blood and violence stark.
We waited until breathing ceased.
We grieved the Sabbath long with sobs.
Then came to tomb to do our work
But who is that who grave-site robs?
We met with angels – worlds broke open
Hearts leapt high and logic failed.
We ran to greet the Company:
Jesus lives – let Christ be Hailed!

(Joanna - Luke 8:1-3, 24:1-12)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Esther

Esther

Reflected in a mirror, I see my exiled face
Who gave me over to become a wife?
A Queen my Master made me – to people not my own
While mine are slaves and foreign to this place

O Esther, how came you here?
 What will you do?
 What have you done?
 Beware!

I did not choose to be here - taken from my people - dispossessed…
I am prize of warfare – a prize to be displayed
Today I’m Queen of Persia – but silent is my role
Do I dare disobey the boundaries of my life?

 O Esther, who are you here?
Can you be given voice before your King?
Do you have words
 from another Lord?

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Abishag

Death of a Wannabe (Abishag – Adonijah’s ruin)

After David's death Adonijah (David's fourth and eldest surviving son), persuaded Bathsheba, Solomon's mother, to entreat the king to permit him to marry Abishag. Solomon suspected in this request an aspiration to the throne, and therefore caused Adonijah to be put to death (1 Kings 2:17–25).

My father caused me to wander,
Had me train as nursing aide.
I traveled to give comfort -
To be the caring maid.

So virtuous and comely
My reputation known
And I was sought to serve
The one who’d taken Israel’s throne.

A prince saw my value
And on his death did ask:
O Mother, seek for me the maid
And let this be your task:

Request that Solomon the Wise
Give this girl as my wife.
But wisdom saw through the scheme -
The dowry was his life.

So wandered I from Father’s home
To David’s camp and royal palace.
Invited to exchange my bed
I lost its chance through Kingly malice.

Such was my story – nothing more
Is said of me – silent gap -
Just another working-woman
Helping men to take a nap!

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Rebekkah

Rebekkah

My parents, filled with pioneer spirit.
Came from the great city of Ur.
Pioneering halted with home by the river.
From Haran town, they’d no longer stir.

My lot seemed tame, by compare.
I would pause to wonder at stars at night.
Where did they shine? Upon what distant place?
Servant’s story came to my ears delight.

He told of One God calling to journey.
He told of the Oaks of Mamre tall.
As he told of a family looking for kin,
I heard of a life into which I might fall.

And so to Shechem, Bethel - at each stop,
we prayed to reach our destination.
Could this One truly promise us
That we might mother many nations?

I prayed, I too, could hear such words.
I prayed, I too, could build new home.
I prayed with every passing step
I would no longer need to roam.

Approaching those great trees of oak,
Well met, we were, by Abraham’s son.
I wore my veil, but keenly glared,
Was this to be the looked for one?


© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Bleeding Woman

Daughter of Faith

(I have always seen the stories of Jairus’ daughter and the bleeding woman were linked. Was the woman’s bleeding the result of a fistula following the birth of a child to Jairus? Others have speculated about their possible relationship. Whether mother and daughter, or representative of generations, these two females share a story re-enacted through the ages. Women are loved and advocated for. Women suffer and are lost. Jesus sacrifices power for the sake of both.)

At the market by the lake
Many voices pressing in.
I hold my wrap close around
So people cannot see my sin.
Jairus pushes forth and speaks
To the Master in distress.
Perhaps, I too, could talk to him
Or even simply touch his dress?

Immediately, I sense the change
And wonder at the present danger –
He calls me forth to testify
An unclean woman – female stranger.
Daughter! He names me new,
Claiming me as his own kin
Daughter! I become God’s child
Freed from guilt or shame or sin.

Many years ago I bore
A child of God, for whom I lost
All my blood of these twelve years.
She lived still, while I was gone,
For I left seeking healing’s tears.
Yet suffering’s freedom may only come
If true for her – next generation –
And so I pray, not just for me –
But for his daughter’s restoration.

At what point should we cease to seek
the restoration of our place?
Social standards may reject
and turn away from from seeing face.
We cannot recognise what’s human
if ‘standards’ call to make girls less.
So, we leave the suffering ones
To loneliness in their distress.

Community and social grace
Prevents us touching ‘unclean’ skin.
And so a cloak will have to do
To draw me back into God’s kin.
And God would have me in my state,
recognising faith revealed.
But will these people count me in
or is exclusion’s state still sealed?

(The woman with an issue of blood - Mark 5:25-34, Matthew 9:20-22, Luke 8:43-48) 

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Michal

Michal

My brother had a handsome boy-friend.
For ‘boy’ he was, when David came.
The war decreed my father’s life
As Israel’s sacred warrior-King.
When the boy came to fight for him
Father did not know himself.
My brother pleaded loyal worth
And David’s voice was heard to sing.

And when he sang, our souls were stirred.
Not only father loved his song.
My father offered him dear Merab,
But to Jonathon he did belong.
And so it was, he married me,
To keep him close by to my brother.
Not long to last was their connection
For life was stolen by another.

O Jonathon – gentle one –
How did die upon the field?
Defending father’s honour still?
Could you not claim a daughter’s yield?
For you should have been born the girl -
You could never take the throne!
You were to be at David’s side
The one who held his heart alone.

And so I sit in the harem,
Surrounded by collected prize.
Named as first, I hold the place
Of Queen and mother to the wise.
Many women follow me
And gather here in my domain.
And still I long for brother’s love
And grieve at war’s disputed gain.

(1 and 2 Samuel – Princess Michal was Saul’s younger daughter and sister to Jonathan and Merab. She married David, who later had many wives.)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Iphis

Iphis’ Sacrifice

Precious gift am I.
So do you gift me to another!
Human sacrifice is your demand – not God’s.
How many women sacrificed?
Over how many centuries?
Because a greedy God demands?
I don’t think so.

Precious daughter – what is a daughter?
a bargaining chip to win a dowry…
This dowry will gain you much
Notoriety and disgust – shame and sorrow.

Precious ritual object am I.
Dress me white like Phoenician priestess.
I should be one of them – for never shall I tend my own babe.
Never shall I live the life I was born for.
For my story is but to die
at my own father’s hand.

What is a Father who sacrifice His own child?
What is such a child who continues to honour the Father?
Even I, precious one – might point the way to a better path.


(Judges 11 - Although she is unnamed in Scripture, G.F.Handel called Jephthah’s daughter, Iphis.)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Lydia

Lydia – the inked lady

Stained my fingers, palms and wrists,
Hues soaked in from inky vats.
My business funds the faith of many,
Hope and promise, gladly shared.
Praised by people and Apostle
We cannot know the life we birth.
For centuries, this Asia Minor,
Will sing the songs we teach them now.
How many generations follow?
Reading our mail and telling our tale?
How many will take their fabrics of colour
To teach of the seasons and learn of the Way?
Return on investment – not yet to be seen,
But in gathered disciples in Heaven they’ll be.
Let the ink seep into my skin,
Like the writing of names into my being.
Let unknown names be written within
So I may bear witness with clouds to them.


© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

International Women's Day 2017

This morning I attended a breakfast with amazing and wonderful women.
It was a treat!

I was asked to say a few words about why I am doing these poems about women in scripture...

Some years ago, I was asked by a diocese to review their formation for ministry materials. I did. I fed back to them that the content seemed excellent and the educational structure and elements were very good. The lesson-panning was first rate. How could it be improved?

Well (pause)... the content... well - you leave out all the chick bits!

What chick bits?

References to the women.

What women?

All the many women in the Bible.

But - we didn't learn about the women. (So they can't be important)

...
I rest my case.

_______

(C) 2017, Michael Vile - "Mary and Martha"

These poems and reflections are written to encourage people to relook at the Scriptures and find the many women. They are there and they have amazing stories. They were included for a reason... so, stop editing them out. Go back. Have a look. See what you discover from them.

Samaritan Woman

Woman of Sychar

Between the mountains of curses and blessings
We hold the memory of prophets and kings.

I follow the footsteps of Dinah’s shaming
To draw water for cooking and washing small-things.

Like Dinah, the men in my life led to naming
That I could not wed a husband of mine.

Yet lonely I’m not for I live with another
I survive with whoever is there at the time.

For such is the life of Samaria’s woman
That during the day I would go to the well.

I am met and conversed with – by a Messiah!
My story he details and chooses to tell.

We joust with our words in long repartee -
A dialogue given for many to comment.

His wisdom and care lightens my spirit.
Somehow I know I am called to speak out.

I run into town to tell all and sundry –
Here is good news – let there be no doubt.

I follow Him now – and will do so forever
Join with me in song – Join with me to shout:

Hosanna! Hosanna! The Lord is come!

(Samaritan Woman at the Well – John 4)  

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Sarah

The King’s Mistress 

Genesis 20:12
…she really is my sister, 
the daughter of my father 
though not of my mother; 
and she became my wife.

Handed over, I laughed at my power.

I am the one who has trapsed across the countryside,
In giant pilgrimage,
Making supper while he builds drystone cairns
to mark our passage.

I am the one who laughed at angels,
Disbelieving or mocking at the joke
It matters not.
Labeled as barren, men think it’s a miracle
But just maybe, it takes two to tango…
If he had paid as much attention
to me as to those rocks…
But – ah – is the miracle for him or for me?

He thinks so much of the promise
That I shall be labeled “sister” by his word?
And what of my good name?
And what of the honour God has promised me?
Perhaps, I get with child by Abimalech?
Not to be dishonoured, but cleaned of neglect!

My power is not in my name, but in my womb.
And so I laugh, for nations will forget their Mother.

(Sarah)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Bityah

Bityah - Daughter of God

Worship the Sun-God – Pharoah of Egypt.
Father to me – I am his female child.
Nameless hero – correction: heroine.
Hand my costume to your Sunday School girls.
Princess Divine – I claim my place in story.
Princess Nameless – echoes in the silence
of halls where princesses have no names.
Shall God’s children remain un-named, un-called, un-recognised?
Who will endow me with a name?
A husband, perhaps?
Or not if I bring with me an adopted Jewish babe.
So Midrash tries Bat-YAH (Daughter of – God).
Does naming mean welcome or exile?
And from which God?

Life came to me, not of my womb
But found among the waters’ reeds.
Love came to me, not of romance
But found in compassion’s warm embrace.
Light came to me, not of my initiation
But given of women who risked all they had.
Woman to woman, we work around the world
Finding ways to find the path to bypass obstacles.
Woman to woman, we see life in innocents
And do not privilege those who would cast them out.

Through decades and millennia,
Such children will be murdered.
They will suffer and die from intent or neglect.
As slaves, exiles, refugees, women can take risks for them.

Nameless, all such women may find in Wisdom’s comforting
Solace for tears when children are distressed.
Nameless, each Advocate can bear the Spirit’s will
Into blessing and restoration of such little ones.

Bless the countless nameless nanas, aunties, sisters, minders…
slaves, dames and princesses who care.
Bless them each and all as they see with woman’s eyes
Give them vision deep within their soul.

(Pharoah’s daughter)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Orpah

Orpah's Song - The Other Widow

[Aayeee! Aaaughaa!]

My silent cries within
Are held in check.
I have no place or position to wail and weep.

Oh Mahlon, why have you left my bed
To sleep with those who cannot bear?
What comfort do you find there?

Oh Mother - not of my birth, but of my right
And kinship claim,
Do not desert me. Do not leave.

The mother of my childhood sent me to you.
You are the Mother who taught me womanhood.
Do not cut me off from my only comfort.

Oh Sister Ruth - you cannot leave!
We came together, shunned by all
To marry these strange others.
You are my link to life.

And so, they leave...
All whom I have loved...
Left me alone in a Land called home
But with no heart.

So, now I remain,
A stranger
A foreigner
A widow
No-one

(The Book of Ruth)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Bathsheba

Pomegranates – seeds of Wisdom

The tartness of retort and sweetness of honeyed glances
Was Bathsheba’s power in her presentation?
Faithful wife and grieving widow,
King’s lover, seeking cleansing…
Fruition and redemption only made
In generations yet to come.

While warlords, princes, prophets find their story in their actions,
A woman’s living is expressed in networks of survival.
Food and shelter, birth and care,
Of such are how her days are spent.
Seeds are all contained within her pomegranate frame.
Is this how Wisdom is expressed,
High Queen of Heaven – One true God?
This Spirit breathes its life into each beating throb of heart.

What holiness in hovering over waters of the womb of life?
What songs will David offer in praise and in confession?
The violence of men with swords must find its match
In peaceful cleansing courtesy.

O Queen of Heaven,
bless your daughters,
That they may give voice to your beseaching…
That they may teach and prophesy and bless.

(Bathsheba)

(C) 2017, A. Koh-Butler

Hagar

Woman in the wilderness

Hagar

Her laughter echoes in the silence of desert air.
Her curse rests on my tired frame.
I am resigned to rest and not awake again
for living has been left among the goats and sheep.
I carry only a sharp knife that might slit another’s throat.
Such inconceivable sacrifice! A welcome act for us.
No cairn, nor laden wood, is set for honouring our deaths.
Our carcasses will simply act as finders’ feast.

He’ll claim, “Yahweh – stayed my hand.”
But I do not await a voice.
No Master will speak to this mother’s ear.
I cannot bear the yearnings of the hungry child.
I move away to wait for sleep to come.

Singing voice – like angel touch –
Enters my awareness.
As chorus fills my being, I hear what must be done:
I move again to claim a promise
Of nations yet to be born.
My being - finds meaning - in creation’s promise.

(Genesis 16 and 21)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Jael

Should Deborah ever sing again…

Is this the campsite of an Amazonian?
Or is a Kenite woman in such a league?
Behind displays of generous provision -
Milk and cream, when water would suffice…
This hospitality comes at brutal cost
As Jael sets her hand to hammer’s strike
In violent action, crushing skull
Sisera’s blood flowed forth in flood.
Is this good news? This killing field?
This act of murder – desperate act
Of liberation and release – perhaps?

What drives a woman to domestic violence
Apart from fear of her own victim-place?
There is no justifying of temptation.
But – Jael’s move has made others safe.

Judges 5:24-26 (Jael)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

See also this great article about reading Jael’s story in a women’s prison
https://www.christiancentury.org/article/critical-essay/reading-jael-s-story-women-s-prison

Priscilla

Weaving

Threads of knowing and unknowing -
Colours overlaid and bound in patterned imagining.
We carry the stories of stitches and mendings,
Sheltering communities under cloths of protection.
How many patches and patterns does it take to tell the story?
How many sewing circles does it take to hear good news?
How many needles must prod and point to find the way, the truth, the life?

And so, we learn to sew.

Our garments of praise adorn mortal folk,
who dare to discover radical stories.
The harshest of silks and the finest of heshens -
confusion reigns at the teacheress.
How can a seamstress presume to instruct spirit?
How can a woman lead within a home?
How can Aquila suffer to be guided?

And so, we look hard at those who sew.

You take a bolt of green,
Tinted by the grasses.
You add a strip of orange,
Stained with spice or root.
How can we see beyond the vision of our background?
How can we bring appreciation to the blend?
How can we see the rainbow if we think in black and white?

And so, we wear the fabric sewn together.

What special coat you wear, O friend Aquila!
Who made that fashion piece that turns the eye?
Your wealth of garments witness to your value…
Found in faith companion by your side.
Priscilla – first of professors and traders –
You will be honoured … in eternity…
…

Acts 18:2-3

(Priscilla was, with her husband, Aquila, a tent-maker. As such, she would have been skilled at sewing. One imagines her making her beloved his garment.)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary of Nazareth

Another Number

People remember the donkey
we took to Bethlehem.
They do not recall our encampment
in the shadow of the Pharoahs.
How far from home did we flee?
How long can you stay away from home?
Should we have stayed there forever…
migrating, lest politic and power eventually catch us up?
At what point does danger dissipate?
Are we ever safe from harm?

In days of census, we were counted and registered.
In places of reporting, we became known and feared.
Yet, what fear do Kings and Generals carry
for a teenage girl?
How much do I really count?

In days of exile, we were truly just numbers…
Numbers of foreigners, of aliens, of less-than-humans…
What do people fear from we…
who have no home, no land, no identity?
At what point does fear diminish?
Do not be afraid!
Lol!

(Matthew 1:18-2:18)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Jezebel

Jezebel (from 'Her foreign Majesties')

Reflected in the mirror, I wonder at my crown.
Who placed it there upon my maiden brow?
A princess of Phoenicia, so foreign to this Land
How can I live authentically in this state?

O Jezebel, how came you here?
What will you do?
What have you done?
Begone!

I did not choose to come here - sold by my tribe for peace…
I come as token gesture – a prize to be displayed
Today I’m claimed as Ahab’s queen, to mother his offspring
My body - chattel of the state – is not for me to own.

O Jezebel, who are you here?
Are you considered human?
Of are you simply of another
Man?

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary of Bethany and Jesus (Tending Death - Part 3)

Tending Dying

I sprinkle precious water from my vial
Over feet into the bowl.
These feet that trod on our assumptions.
They trod the path from north to south,
bridging the stories of Kingdoms long past.
Could reconciliation be possible in a land
that has soaked up so much blood?
Perhaps it is inevitable that this Reconciler
will be taken down?
How the can I show Him my love and support?
How terrible it must be to carry the stories the way He does?
My tears, held in this little vial,
join all my weeping stories,
and those of every mother, sister, wife and daughter,
with those He bears.

(Mary of Bethany)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Martha

Ashes  

Martha

So, now, some hours after that corrective word,
I get to sweep and clean the ashes from the hearth.
Now, I get to think, beyond the confusion of instruction
that challenges all I have been and have known.

Who are we? To move beyond the roles assigned
by tradition and habit and respect?
Who is He? To call me so, out of my rightful place
into his new and fearful righteousness?
Who is my sister? The little one I nursed and loved,
whose tears I dried when our mother died.

I look upon these ashes and wonder,
can I ever return to knowing my place in this world?
when Heaven reveals opportunity, creativity,
equity in the eyes of One I love most?
How, then, can we continue in this world,
knowing the oppression of expectation?

(Luke 10:38-42)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary of Bethany - Choosy

Choosy

Mary of Bethany

Most teachers would not know my name.
Most teachers would not care.
Those power-mongers do not know
That I am even there.

Yet, Jesus uses my own name
And speaks into my heart.
He tells them to leave me alone
My choice – the better part!

So lonely to be questioning
My comments I would swallow
Yet only by hearing him
Am I able to follow.

But others would tear me from the room
And keep me at the sink.
They cannot let me ask or speak.
They will not let me think.

O sisters all – come kneel with me
Come join me at his feet.
Come Martha and come Lazarus
Draw near your learning seat.

When learning is withheld from us
We cannot receive grace.
We must chose to be present
And take the blessing place.

We do not do this out of greed
But in response to call
For it is God’s sacred gift to us
That blessing be for all.

Our service, then, is not to Christ
But from Christ to all others.
God blesses us to bless the world
As daughters, sisters, mothers.

Yes, Jesus uses all our names
Speaking into our hearts.
We learn to chose the blessing work
Our choice – the better part!

(Luke 10:38-42)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Canaanite

Canaanite 

I place a napkin on my lap.
'Twas embroidered by my Nan.
She made us all sit up for tea.
Ladies, we would sip and dunk.
Our conversation, chatter, noisily declared our place
in a world that disputed our right to be.
What does a tea-party look like in Palestine?
How cracked the china from the pesky explosions?
Woman in a world of violence…
Wife in a war of words…
Dogs gather beneath the table, longingly hoping for morsels.
Where is the generosity of gleanings left to be gathered?
Where is the possibility of hospitality and welcome?

I place a napkin on my lap
to catch the crumbs from the table.

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Tamar

Lenten Discipline

Throughout Lent 2017, I will be posting a reflection or prayer (most days) about the women in the Scriptures... happy to get feedback, questions or comments.


Tamar

Broken, I come begging for restoration.
In my shame, I cannot be healed.
In my pain, I carry in my body
the wounds of soul-less violence.

O Wisdom, what have you permitted in me?
Why have you forsaken the faithfulness of my virtue?

Anger and despair mingle with the blood and soiling of my bed.
Is this what it means to be human?
I am no longer to be counted among the beloved.
I only exist in the hopelessness of creation’s memory.

With each thrust of violence, I have been killed.
With each shocking word, my identity has been dismantled.

O Wisdom, what have you done?
Where are you? Where is your mercy?

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler