Illusion of Control

Are you familiar with the story of Hannah? It is told at the beginning of the book of Samuel. She is a barren woman who yearns for a child. She ends up presenting herself to God in prayer. Eli finds her and sees that she is praying earnestly, although at first he mistakes her prayers for drunkenness. Following this time of prayer, she becomes pregnant.

I was reading about Hannah in the Frymer-Kensky book. She says that rabbinic authors throughout time have wondered what Hannah prayed. What was so convincing that God granted her request? Many theories have been presented, most of them very paternalistic (such as, "Dear God, why give me a uterus if you don't intent for me to use it?").

To me, it speaks of our need to be able to explain everything. Why do we find it comforting to think that everything has a reason? Why do we equate the idea that God is control with everything having a reason? And why do we arrogantly assume that we can understand what God does? I wonder if it gives us an illusion of control.

Ezra's assertions

I was reading more today from the Frymer-Kensky book. Today's chapter centered around the book of Ezra, and the prophet's assertion that the men returning to Jerusalem from exile who had married "foreign" women should leave their wives and children to maintain the holiness of the nation.

She discussed the idea that Ezra used a scriptural support for his prophecy that might not apply to his current situation. In addition, Ezra's urging to abandon wives and children was not at all scriptural. The author wondered if he had indeed been concerned about purity or if his claims were more political in nature.

Do we do that today? Do we use the Bible to support our own purposes? Do we mold God's image and word into what we want instead of the opposite?

A book Meme

I was looking for something on my blog, and I ran into this MEME, originally from Cheesehead in Paradise (a blog that is no longer available, sadly).  I thought it was worth running again, with new answers:
Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. (No cheating!): This was more difficult that it would seem.  The book closest to me, The Seeds of Heaven doesn't have 123 pages.  The next book was in my iPad, which was fine by me, but it was a kindle book wihtout page numbers.  Someone else in the office has the hard copy book, so I borrowed his.  The book is Reading the Women of the Bible by Tikva Frymer-Kensky.  I'm working my way slowly through, and I highly recommend it.
Find Page 123 and find the first 5 sentences.  Page 123 is part of the chapter about the story in Judges 19 -- a terrible, terrible story about the Levite and his concubine. 

Post the next 3 sentences. He sits in the town square, but no one offers him hospitality. An old man comes from the fields who is not a native of the town - he is from Mount Ephraim, where the Levite lives, while the poele of the town are from Benjamin, a different Isrealite tribe - and invites them to stay at his house. Without a doubt, the Benjaminites who live in the town should have taken the tavelers home, but perhaps it was not wise for the man from Ephraim to do so?

Go read the story in the Bible.  It is at the end of Judges and it portrays Israel at the end of a period of time of "implosion and dissolution."

Going Out

I'm reading Tikva Frymer-Kensky's book, Reading the Women of the Bible: A New Interpretation of Their Stories.  Every chapter gives me a different look at a passage about one of the women of the Bible.  I'm very much enjoying the reading, and have had lots of "blog thoughts," although I haven't written any of them down.  Yet.

The chapter I'm reading today is about Dinah.  Genesis 34:1 says, "Out went Dinah the daughter of Leah whom she bore to Jacob, to see the girls of the land."

Out went Dinah....

This is the only phrase in the story in which Dinah is the object of the verb. Even though the rest of the story is about what happened to her, and the responses to it, it is not about Dinah herself.
My first reaction was that we should all follow suit.  Go out.  Meet people.  Develop relationships even among those we do not understand. 

The author writes that the phrase "out went Dinah" might have another implication for those who originally heard the story.  The culture in which Dinah lived -- and not just the Israelite culture, but much of the world's culture at the time, was patriarchal.  When a woman "goes out" in a patriarchal society, she leaves the protection of her family.  She is vulnerable, but the family is also vulnerable.  What happens to her could have a poor impact on her family. 

"The laws of Hammurabit demonstrate this attitude" when they speak to the idea of divorce.  A woman who is seen as a "gadabout" (which literally means 'the woman who goes out') and who wants a divorce, is thrown into the river.  The word had such a negative connotation that "an Old Babylonian word list equates it...with prostitute."  They walk the street.  They have gone out.

Even today, remnants of this attitude exist.  Think for a moment about the word "streetwalker."

I go out.  I am not, of course, a prostitute, but each day, I leave my home and I "go out."  Sometimes I encounter resistance because of it, even though I'm sure no one considers that I am selling s*x.  (avoiding odd search engines -- sorry).  I wonder if the idea of "going out" -- the woman leaving the protection (and authority, perhaps) of the patriarchal family and going out on her own has impacted our society's unconscious response to women who work outside the home.  Or who "go out" from the submissive role of wife to impact the world.

Is what we do seen as wrong -- even subconsciously -- because we are "going out"?

People of the Red Cord

When the time of her delivery came, there were twins in her womb.  While she was in labour, one put out a hand; and the midwife took and bound on his hand a crimson thread, saying, ‘This one came out first.’ But just then he drew back his hand, and out came his brother; and she said, ‘What a breach you have made for yourself!’ Therefore he was named Perez. Afterwards his brother came out with the crimson thread on his hand; and he was named Zerah.  Genesis 38:27-30

In the story, the first bay to appear during the birth has a crimson cord tied on his hand, but his brother is born first, and is given the name Perez, which means "a breach."

A breach can be an infraction of a law, a break in something, like a barrier or a relationship, or a gap.

So why was he named "breach"? Did he break with tradition? Did his birth foretell a broken relationship with his brother? Did he break through expectations?

And where else have you seen a scarlet cord in the Bible?   Remember the story of Rahab?   The Israelite spies gave her a scarlet cord to mark her home so that no one would hurt her when they conquered the city.

I'm reading Reading the Women of the Bible by Tivka Frymer-Kensky. She calls Rahab a "barrier-breaker" and says that the red cord places her in the company of David's ancestors.

Rahab was an outsider. To the Israelites, she was a foreigner. To the Canaanites and the Israelites, she was a woman and a harlot (if I use the real word, I'll trigger some unwanted search engine results). In everyone's eyes, she was outside of desired company. And yet, she has a large role to play in the keeping of God's promise to the Israelites. She helps to bring them into the promised land. Even God, who has told them to destroy everything; leave nothing that could contaminate the fledgling nation, seems OK that Rahab and her family are saved.

She has a faith in God, and that seems to be her motivator. She believes that God will conquer Jericho, and she works a deal to keep her family safe. She keeps the two spies safe. She does the unexpected, doesn't she? And she becomes an agent of God's desired plan because of her barrier-breaking.

Should we be people of the red cord? Should we be barrier-breakers? And should we be more aware of the likelihood that God will use "outsiders" to do his will?