Emerging Women

By Krista Finch

“This, said Joseph to himself, is the one of whom the angel spoke. He dropped to his knees beside the manger. This was the messiah.”
~ Jim Bishop, The Holy Birth

How humbling for Joseph to kneel before the manger of this son Mary had just birthed, a son he had no part of.

How curious that Joseph should call his earthly son King, Holy, Messiah; to know Jesus from the moment of His birth and know Him as the Son of God.

How liberating for Joseph, aware for the first time as he peered over the well-worn feeding trough, that he was beholding the One who would forgive his sin and redeem his soul.

Krista Finch is a wife, mom and author with a passion for finding glimpses of glory in an as-is world. In her recent book, As Is, and on her site KristaFinch.com, she digs into the mundane majesty of life here and now. Krista loves Advent.

By Kirsten Miller

While I was in Chang Mai a few things came easily, like eating Thai food. Greeting the lovely Thai with a bow. Working alongside a new homeowner spreading mortar between bricks.

One thing that did not come easily was prayer.

Perhaps one of the reasons was there was no time for it. We were going from the break of dawn until we collapsed into bed. I thought of Jesus. I missed him. I tried to feel Him in the air, in the mountains…in my body, but I couldn’t.

All the while, I watched my Muslim friends pray behind the storage shed every day.  They made the time. And the space.  As I watched them, envious of their ability to stop and pray in the middle of their work day–I began to notice that our practices–in time and space–to cultivate the presence of God–are crucial to the fueling of the soul.

My practices in Chang Mai were non-existent.

I noticed as the days passed I was feeling more dark, and more separated from my connection to God. I missed my piano, my chair, and my walks in the woods where I experience God’s presence.

I tried to pray here and there…to practice the presence of the Lord when I could, amidst the busy-ness… but to no avail.

By the end of our trip, I was sure God simply didn’t live in Chang Mai.

Until our last day.

As a final hurrah, my husband and I decided to go on a hike in the mountains. We traveled a trail that was very steep and treacherous at times complete with brambles and skinny ledges. We were guided by a small strong man named Bon, who wore flip flops. He blazed the trail like a gazelle while we panted and struggled to keep up. The hike lasted close to five hours. Towards the end of the journey, our legs were burning and jello-like.

As were coming back down the mountain, we passed another group that had been trekking for three days.  They had picked up a stray dog that had become a part of their group.

As we passed, they stopped us and asked us if we would look after the dog. They were heading toward a village that eats dogs.

But of course. Our guide agrees. This is the way we do things; trekking up and down mountains, passing dogs from one group to the next.

So the other group kept walking and left the dog with us. With no leash, of course. Our guide called the dog, Come! But it sat and lay down. We tried coaxing the dog with cookies. No go. The dog kept turning round to look for the old pack, oblivious to the danger that lay before him. After more pulling and prodding and more bribing, our guide stooped down and picked up the dog.

And he carried that dog down the mountain like a baby.

When I think about it, I smile.

I just couldn’t seem to get to Him during that trip.

Instead, he came to me, in the form of a small Thai mountain man.

Looking back now I can see how savior-like our little mountain guide was that day. Leading us on the narrow path.  Bringing us from the darkness of the jungle into the light of day…and rescuing that dog from danger.

And I thought God didn’t live in Chang Mai.

Kirsten is a writer, worship leader and psychotherapist in the Atlanta area. For Advent prayers and musings, follow her writings at sacredliving.info.

By Julie Clawson

At church this past Sunday we were encouraged to find ways to see the world differently this week.  Change our routine and change our perspective to help us get out of the rut of going through life without actually seeing the world.  To that end we were asked to draw a slip of paper out of a basket on which was written some sort of paradigm destabilizer.  These were just suggestion to help us shake things up a bit – and force us to just do life a little differently.  These included everything from “take a new route to work” to “put your fork down between bites.”  The one I drew was “imagine that Jesus had been born a girl.”  I was amused at first that I had randomly chosen that particular option since I doubted that task would destabilize my perspective as much as it might someone else’s.  But the idea has stuck with me over the last few days as I keep asking, “well, what if?”

The first thought that came to mind was, “would Jesus have even of been born if he had been a girl?”  In a culture that valued sons, I wonder what Joseph’s response would have been if the angel hadn’t told him “She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”   The birth of sons was celebrated.  But if Joseph had known the child in Mary’s womb was a girl would he have gone ahead and divorced her quietly condemning her and the child to a life of abject poverty and ridicule?  Or would he have exposed her as an adulterer to have her stoned? Throughout history we have seen women valued solely for their ability to bear male heirs.  Henry VIII chopped the heads off a couple of wives for only bearing him daughters.  Even today one hears of women apologizing in the delivery room for the baby not being a boy.  So I have to wonder if even a divine announcement would have been enough to save the life of an illegitimate girl.

But if she had been born, I wonder what the response would have been.  Would the shepherds have scoffed at a baby girl in swaddling clothes and grumbled at having to leave their flocks in the night for that?  Would the magi have questioned the stars, or understood the mystery at play?  Would Herod have felt threatened by a girl and have ordered the slaughter of the innocents?  And would her parents, some years later, marry her off at age 12 to be perpetually pregnant and too busy save the world? Or would they have remembered their angelic visitation and the prophetic destiny spoken about this child?

But let’s just assume that this girl reached a point where she could chose to begin her ministry.  Would the truth of her words and the divinity within her be enough to attract followers despite her gender?  In other words would something as minor as gender be enough for people to reject God’s invitation to “come follow me”? Would her mother, who prophetically sung the Magnificat, have hushed her up and told her “girls don’t discuss theology?”  If she sat on the mountainside and spoke the Beatitudes to the crowds would her words be affirmed as a beautiful new way forward or dismissed as the rantings of a crazy woman who was probably pmsing?  Would men have seen an independent woman as vulnerable and used that as an excuse to rape her?   To avoid that would she have had to (like Joan of Arc) chop off her hair and dress in men’s clothing – in essence deny that she is a women in order to be respected as a person? Would the authorities have even allowed her three years to spread her message, or would silencing a woman for subversion and heresy have happened much sooner?

On one hand these questions might just seem to affirm why Jesus had to be born male.  But making that assumption from either an essentialist or cultural viewpoint simply helps one avoid examining our own perspectives towards women.  Even as I reflected on the particular struggles Jesus would have faced if he had been born a girl, I couldn’t help but also think about the positive outcomes it would have engendered.  If the person we commit our lives to follow and who sacrificed herself on our behalf was a woman I can’t help but think that would have significantly impacted how we have perceived and treated women for the last 2000 years.  If the founder of the church was a woman, then perhaps a patriarchy wouldn’t have developed that effectively shut out and silenced the spiritual voice of women.  If the body of a woman savior was treasured as sacrament, then perhaps the bodies of women would not have been so degraded, abused, and despised over the years.  If for 2000 years women hadn’t lived in oppression, silence, and fear I wonder how much our collective input would have changed history.  Would we have allowed the posturing and pissing contests of men to nearly destroy the world in wars?  Would we have allowed nature to be oppressed and raped instead of cultivated and cared for?  And would the Kingdom of God be that much more vibrant and alive today if during that time it had been impossible to forget the feminine side of God or to muzzle the spiritual insight of half the church?

These are all hypothetical questions of course.  But just the asking can be the first step in destabilizing paradigms. The historical truth of Jesus being born a girl matters less than how asking the question can move us towards living like it was.

Crossposted from onehandclapping

By Tom and Kim Wilkens

Today, Sunday the 29th of November, we begin another liturgical year. I once met a don (professor) at Oxford University who scheduled his life according to the church’s calendar: its seasons, its saints’ days, and its liturgical hours. He refused to use or even to acknowledge the more arithmetic 12-month, numbered-day, 24-hour-subdivided Julian calendar that most of us follow. Making an appointment with him was difficult, to say the least.

We don’t need to go to the extreme of that Oxford don, but perhaps we might pay a bit more attention to our distinctive, somewhat countercultural church calendar. There could be some pleasantly surprising gifts awaiting us, such as the peace and perspective offered by the Advent Season – the season of the advent or coming of God. It is a season that places our lives in a cosmic context or, greater still, a framework as large as God herself. We won’t find that in our holiday shopping at WalMart, Macy’s, or even Neiman Marcus. It can’t be bought; it can’t be built. It comes only as a love-motivated and grace-saturated blessing.

Let us pray:
Come among us Mothering God, Mothering Christ, Mothering Spirit. As you gave birth to us as the Alpha, the fertile source and beginning of all, so also embrace us at last as the Omega, the welcoming goal and end of all. Come among us Birthing God, Feeding Christ, Nurturing Spirit.
Amen.

Kim’s response:
My dad wrote this Advent Devotional for the congregation that he and my mother belong to – a mainline denominational church. The thing that struck me was the reference to “God herself”. I have such a gut reaction to that. First, it’s a reaction of – “ahhh, finally”. But then I wonder how much trouble he’ll get in for referring to the mothering nature of God. Finally I wonder why my solution to this quandary has been to keep my God language gender neutral. That definitely feels like a cop out as well, especially in light of the Advent season, a season of expectant waiting and preparation, a season that any mother can relate to as she reflects on the birth of her own child. I am so grateful that my dad has given me the gift of remembering God herself and the wonderful ways in which she has birthed, fed and nurtured me.

Tom Wilkens served for three years as a pastor in Wisconsin and for thirty-one years as a professor of theology at Texas Lutheran University in Seguin. He and his daughter, Kim, have recently co-authored the book, Un-American Activities: Countercultural Themes in Christianity (http://unamericanactivities.blogspot.com).

A very Happy Thanksgiving to all of our US readers! I pray this holiday weekend finds you well. Amidst the baking and the family time, I invite you to share here about your family traditions and what you are thankful for. It is always encouraging to hear the stories from our community.

And believe it or not, this Sunday marks the start of the season of Advent in the Western church. Here at Emerging Women we want to focus our posts during this time on the idea of incarnation. What are the practical implications of incarnation in our lives. What does God becoming flesh mean for your faith? How can we celebrate and be present in incarnation each and every day? How does incarnation turn our world upside down? I invite you to share your thoughts in the form of a reflection, or a poem, or a photograph (or whatever medium you desire). We have already received a few beautiful submissions, but would really like to hear from as many members of this community as possible this season. These posts can be whatever length you want them to be, we just want to hear your thoughts. So please send them along to emergingwomen@gmail.com.

Enjoy the holiday, and I look forward to hearing your reflections.

- Julie Clawson