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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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