Game of Thrones - Deborah and Jael: Women Rule

Judges 4:4-9, 15-22

At that time Deborah, a prophetess, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel. She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim; and the Israelites came up to her for judgment. She sent and summoned Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali, and said to him, “The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you, ‘Go, take position at Mount Tabor, bringing ten thousand from the tribe of Naphtali and the tribe of Zebulun. I will draw out Sisera, the general of Jabin’s army, to meet you by the Wadi Kishon with his chariots and his troops; and I will give him into your hand.’” Barak said to her, “If you will go with me, I will go; but if you will not go with me, I will not go.” And she said, “I will surely go with you; nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” Then Deborah got up and went with Barak to Kedesh. And the Lord threw Sisera and all his chariots and all his army into a panic before Barak; Sisera got down from his chariot and fled away on foot, while Barak pursued the chariots and the army to Harosheth-ha-goiim. All the army of Sisera fell by the sword; no one was left.

Now Sisera had fled away on foot to the tent of Jael wife of Heber the Kenite; for there was peace between King Jabin of Hazor and the clan of Heber the Kenite. Jael came out to meet Sisera, and said to him, “Turn aside, my lord, turn aside to me; have no fear.” So he turned aside to her into the tent, and she covered him with a rug. Then he said to her, “Please give me a little water to drink; for I am thirsty.” So she opened a skin of milk and gave him a drink and covered him. He said to her, “Stand at the entrance of the tent, and if anybody comes and asks you, ‘Is anyone here?’ say, ‘No.’” But Jael wife of Heber took a tent peg, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly to him and drove the peg into his temple, until it went down into the ground – he was lying fast asleep from weariness – and he died. Then, as Barak came in pursuit of Sisera, Jael went out to meet him, and said to him, “Come, and I will show you the man whom you are seeking.” So he went into her tent; and there was Sisera lying dead, with the tent peg in his temple.

Luke 24:1-12

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body.While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.


Deborah and Jael: Women Rule

There are a lot of reasons to question – and even disdain – the many horrible, nasty, terrifying things that happen to women in the “Game of Thrones” series. And the same can be said about much of what we find in our Bibles, sadly enough. (Remember how Lot offered his daughters up to the angry mob in the Sodom and Gomorrah story a couple weeks ago? And he was the good guy in that story!)

As I’ve said, I haven’t made my way through the whole “Game of Thrones” series, yet, but I have seen already that, not only do the women of the Realm hold their own, they really do overcome… and persist… and win… in more ways than not, in spite of all the ugliness and violence and misogyny they face in that medieval world. And, without sharing any spoilers – because I haven’t seen them to share them, remember – I’ve been told by others who’ve seen the show from start to finish that women really do rule, in the end.

And I think the same is true – or at least the hope for the same is true – throughout the Biblical narrative, if we read it with the right kind of eyes. And it’s why I want to share something about the role of women – their place, their purpose, their importance, and their power – in Scripture, in the Church, and in the Kingdom, as we’re called to understand it.

(I had the thought – about a week and a half ago – that this would have been a great Sunday to hand over the preaching to a woman for the occasion; that this would have been a great Sunday to have Pastor Libby back, or to invite Pastor Teri to join us again. BUT, that good idea didn’t surface in enough time to make that possible. So, you’re stuck with this middle-aged white guy’s best effort at saying what should be said more often. And there’s some value in that, just the same, I suppose.)

So, I picked Deborah and Jael because their story is the most “Game of Thrones-y”, as far as I could tell, in terms of guts, gore, strength and power. And it’s not a story that gets a lot of air time, it seems to me, probably because there’s not much too it, in the book of Judges. It all takes place in just a couple of chapters; there’s the story itself and then a song about the story.

But it matters that Deborah was a Judge in the days of Israel before there were kings. She was a prophet and powerful leader for God’s chosen ones. Judges like Deborah were military leaders, raised up by God, to lead the people back to faithfulness when their faithlessness caused them to stray. And judges like Deborah delivered them from their enemies, through their leadership and courage and wisdom and faith, like we heard this morning.

And I love when Deborah says to Barak, the military commander under her authority, “…the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hands of a woman.” It makes me think Deborah might have been the first feminist – deliberately plotting and planning for the help of Jael, the other heroine of the story, to hide and then smite Sisera, the commander of the Canaanite army, with that tent spike to the temple.

But, there are plenty of other women of influence in Hebrew Scripture – Eve (whose bad rap is unnecessary and unfair, if you ask me); Ruth (an outsider who became an insider of devotion, loyalty and faith); Rahab (the prostitute who helped the Israelites conquer Jericho, which could have been a plot for any season of “Game of Thrones,” as well); and, of course, there’s Miriam and Sarah and Rebekah and Hannah and Hagar, and more.

And it doesn’t stop with the Old Testament. It picks right up again with Elizabeth and Mary, in the Gospels – bearing the hope of the world in Jesus and his cousin, John the Baptist. And there are others, too: Martha and Mary; Phoebe and Lydia; and all those who go unnamed, but far from unnoticed or insignificant where Jesus is concerned. The widow who gave so generously. The woman of great faith who begged for help for her daughter. And the other woman who Jesus healed when she boldly, bravely touched his robe, after her own long-suffering faithfulness.

So, in light of all that, when it comes to the place and power and purpose of women in the Kingdom, I’d like to assume I’m “preaching to the choir,” as they say, but one can never be so sure.

Just this week – because Monday happened to be the Feast Day for Mary Magdalene, who I haven’t even mentioned yet – I happened upon a Twitter thread spun from a post by a Jesuit priest named James Martin. (He’s kind of a rock star among Jesuit priests, these days.) His post said simply:

“In the time between her encounter with the Risen Christ and when she shared the news of the Resurrection with the other disciples, Mary Magdalene was the church on earth (Jn 20). Because only to her had been revealed the full Paschal Mystery.”

And he added:

“Any discussion of women's roles in the church must begin with these two facts: It was to a woman, not a man, to whom the Risen Christ first chose to appear. And it was a woman who, for a time, was the sole carrier, and proclaimer, of the Good News of the Resurrection.”

And you wouldn’t believe – or, if you’ve ever spent two minutes on Twitter these days, you would actually believe – the anger and mean-spirited and hateful and ignorant responses that followed, suggesting that women don’t belong in the pulpit, that women don’t belong leading mass, that women have their place in the Church but that it isn’t anywhere near as important or as powerful or as ordained, in the same way, as that of men.

And, before we get too self-righteously indignant about all of that – our progressive theology and polity as ELCA-flavored Christians, I mean – check this out:

Frankly, I’m a little suspicious of all of that “shock” and “surprise” from those guys. I’ve heard as much – or worse – myself over the years. Just like you don’t have to wear a white sheet or use the N-word to be a racist, you don’t have to be a rapist or to be blatantly abusive or disrespectful toward women in order to fall victim to the sin of misogyny.

And all of this matters – the way we regard and empower women, or not – because I heard just this week that 21 percent of middle and high school girls report being bullied online or by text, compared with less than 7 percent of boys. (mprnews.org)

It matters because, on average, a woman working full time earns about 81 cents for every dollar a man earns, working full time. (businessinsider.com) And those numbers are worse for women of color.

It matters because 4 out of 5 victims of human trafficking are girls. And something like 15 million girls under the age of 18 are married off, around the world, with no say in the matter. (makers.com)

So it matters if we, in the Church, aren’t right and righteous when it comes to the place and power of women and girls in our midst. Because if we are not, it means we’re either mirroring or instigating or perpetuating what’s so frightening and sad and sinful out there for our sisters and daughters and mothers and friends.

So let’s celebrate that it was Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told [the news of the resurrection] to the apostles. And let’s remember that their words seemed to [the men] an idle tale, and they did not believe them.

Let’s remember and celebrate what Genesis promises us, that, in God’s image we were created – both male and female.

Let’s remember and celebrate what we find in Acts, that, “…God says, I will pour out my spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy… Even on my servants, both men and women I will pour out my spirit...”

Let’s remember and celebrate that “The gifts [God] gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.”

Let’s make this our goal – and our challenge – and our joy, in the end. And may this not just be about our life together in the Church, but through the Church, and for the sake of the world, in as many ways as we can manage it.

Amen

Game of Thrones - Exodus: Plagues, Power and Pharaoh's Fate

Exodus 11:1-10, 12:29-32

The Lord said to Moses, ‘I will bring one more plague upon Pharaoh and upon Egypt; afterwards he will let you go from here; indeed, when he lets you go, he will drive you away. Tell the people that every man is to ask his neighbor and every woman is to ask her neighbor for objects of silver and gold.’ The Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians. Moreover, Moses himself was a man of great importance in the land of Egypt, in the sight of Pharaoh’s officials, and in the sight of the people. Moses said, ‘Thus says the Lord: About midnight I will go out through Egypt. Every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on his throne to the firstborn of the female slave who is behind the handmill, and all the firstborn of the livestock. Then there will be a loud cry throughout the whole land of Egypt, such as has never been nor will ever be again. But not a dog shall growl at any of the Israelites — not at people, not at animals — so that you may know that the Lord makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel. Then all these officials of yours shall come down to me, and bow low to me, saying, “Leave us, you and all the people who follow you.” After that I will leave.’ And in hot anger he left Pharaoh. The Lord said to Moses, ‘Pharaoh will not listen to you, in order that my wonders may be multiplied in the land of Egypt.’ Moses and Aaron performed all these wonders before Pharaoh; but the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out of his land.

At midnight the Lord struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the prisoner who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of the livestock. Pharaoh arose in the night, he and all his officials and all the Egyptians; and there was a loud cry in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead. Then he summoned Moses and Aaron in the night, and said, ‘Rise up, go away from my people, both you and the Israelites! Go, worship the Lord, as you said. Take your flocks and your herds, as you said, and be gone. And bring a blessing on me too!’

Luke 1:46-55

And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”


Exodus: Plagues, Power and Pharaoh’s Fate

I opted to share something about Pharaoh’s fate as part of our “Game of Thrones” series, knowing I was probably biting off more than we could chew on in just one Sunday morning sermon. But I couldn’t resist re-visiting the plagues – particularly the last, most heinous of the plagues, the death of the first born in all of Egypt – and musing about the fate of Pharaoh and his hardened heart, which is one of the great questions and conundrums in all of Scripture.

When I say the creators of the Game of Thrones series have nothing on the Hebrew Scriptures, it’s hard not to think about the plagues. The short version of that longer story is that God was tired of the abuse suffered by the Hebrew people who were enslaved under the tyranny of Egypt’s Pharaoh. Having recruited Moses to set God’s people free, God and Moses have this back and forth battle of wills and displays of power all so that Pharaoh might see and understand his place under the banner of Israel’s God as the creator of the universe. God and Moses give Pharaoh chance after chance, opportunity after opportunity to let the Hebrew slaves go, but Pharaoh refuses.

And Pharaoh refuses, not only because letting those slaves go – releasing them to the freedom they deserved – would mean a tremendous loss of financial power, loss of a free labor force, and an upsetting of the social order in Egypt, but it would mean proof that Pharaoh wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. See, in that time and place, Pharaohs were believed to have divine powers – to be gods, themselves, in part; or at least intermediaries for the gods of the Egyptians. So, he would have to relinquish his own divine status in the eyes of his people. Pharaoh would have to admit that the God of Moses, the God of the Hebrew slaves, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, was more mighty and powerful than himself and his magicians.

So, even after all of those plagues – the river of blood; the frogs, the gnats, the flies; the sick livestock, the boils, the thunder and hail, the locusts and the darkness – Pharaoh still refused. He came close a couple of times – promising release and freedom for Moses and his people – but when each punishing plague was stopped he would change his mind, hardening his heart, losing his courage to humble himself, to relinquish his power and to do what Moses was asking.

And, sometimes we’re told, toward the end of this onslaught of plagues, it was God who hardened the heart of Pharaoh; that it was God who forced Pharaoh to make the choices he made to keep the Hebrews enslaved. And this notion has, for generations, invited believers and scholars and theologians and pastors to consider the nature and source of evil in the world. This story of Pharaoh’s hardened heart has made many wonder about the nature of a God who would punish Pharaoh for something over which Pharaoh had no control.

If he couldn’t repent, why should he be punished? Where is grace and mercy and justice to be found in a God who acts as a puppet master, pulling the strings and hardening the hearts of people like Pharaoh, only to end up destroying them for that same hardness of heart, in the end? And what does it say to us about free will – our own ability to choose repentance, to choose justice, to choose faithfulness, or to choose the opposite, for that matter? IS God some kind of puppet master pulling our strings and making us move and choose and do according to God’s every whim?

Well, remember what all of those plagues were about. They were about Moses asking Pharaoh to let God’s people go; to let them leave their slavery in Egypt; to let them be free from Pharaoh’s bondage so they could worship and live and bless and be blessed by their God, out there in the world. But the plagues were also about showing, too – who God was; that the God of Moses and the Israelites was the God of all things, even the God of and the God over Pharaoh and Egypt – who believed otherwise.

So when the frogs and the fire and the darkness and the boils wouldn’t convince Pharaoh of God’s power, God got serious. And not just by way of the death of the first born – which was the deal breaker for Pharaoh, the straw that broke the camel’s back. God got serious with the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, in the end, because it was another dramatic, powerful way to prove who God was and who Pharaoh was not. It led, ultimately, to freedom for the Israelites and destruction for Pharaoh and his army.

And I learned a new way of understanding all of this, thanks to some writing by a Jewish Rabbi named Bernard Zlotowitz.

If Pharaoh was who Pharaoh claimed to be; if he was stronger and more powerful than the God of Moses; if he was all-powerful and almighty; if he was a god himself, or even an intermediator for a god of the Egyptians … he could have un-hardened his own heart; he could have reversed what God had done; he could have repented and meant it. He could have relented, he could have released the Israelites, once and for all, and not followed his own compulsion to chase after them, ultimately drowning in the sea – consumed not just by water, but consumed by his own pride and thirst for power and greed and sin and all the rest.

In other words, Pharaoh had had a taste of what could save him – mercy, justice and freedom for those oppressed Hebrew slaves – on all those occasions he had decided to let them go and when God ceased God’s punishment, when God turned off the plague like a faucet. But when Pharaoh changed his mind that last time – or his mind was changed – whatever the case may be – Pharaoh was powerless to save himself any longer, even though he knew how, because he was not the god he pretended to be.

Pharaoh – this earthly ruler – was no match for the God of Moses and the Israelites – the ruler of the universe, because Pharaoh’s sinful, greedy, power-hungry, hard and broken heart was hardened in a way he could not un-do or mend on his own. Pharaoh needed God – the one true God – just as Moses and the Israelites did – just as you and I need God – to be free, to be liberated, to be forgiven, to be unbound by our sinfulness. And we just can’t do it on our own.

It was a lesson for everyone involved: for the Egyptians who believed Pharaoh was all-powerful – and for the Hebrew slaves who may have wondered – they could see that he was not. And for those who doubted Moses and his God, that power was confirmed.

And the good news about that God – the hope in all of this – is that that God will go to great lengths – any length – to love and care for those who need it most. Was that God the God of Moses and the Israelites? Yes. Was that same God – the creator of the universe, the God of all things – the God of Pharaoh and the Egyptians, too? Yes. And when the God of the universe sees some of God’s children hurting, suffering, and struggling at the hands of some of God’s other children – God seeks to change things.

Like any loving parent who sees an older, bigger, stronger sibling pushing his little brother around and steps in to protect the younger, smaller, weaker of the two…God acts.

Like a teacher who sees one of her students bullying another and moves to stop that injustice…God acts.

Our God is always on the side of the underdog. Our God is always looking out for the outsider. Our God always stands in for the outcast and the cast-out, in the name of justice and mercy.

And I love that about our God. It is hope for the hopeless. It is challenge and accountability for those in power. And it’s a reality check for those of us who live somewhere in the middle – those of us with more power and privilege than most of the world, whether we’re always able to admit it or see it or not; and those of us called to wield that power and privilege – as children of God – with grace and mercy, generosity and love for the sake of our brothers and sisters and for the sake of God’s kingdom in our midst. And those of us who – like Pharaoh and Moses – can’t save ourselves or do any of this on our own.

And all of that is Mary’s hope and the promise of Jesus she sings about before his arrival. She reminds us, in this morning’s Gospel, about what the power of that one true God looks like and means to accomplish in the world. 

Our God looks with favor upon faithful servants.

Our God has mercy on those who fear him, from generation to generation.

Our God scatters the proud, brings down the powerful from their thrones, lifts up the lowly, fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty.

Our God – the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – the God made known to us in Jesus – is a God of mercy, love, grace, hope, redemption, freedom and justice.

Our God – and the ways of Christ’s kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven” – are our hope for this world and the next.

Amen

(You can read the piece by Bernard Zlotowitz I refer to here. It’s short, sweet and worth your time, if you have it.)