Images of God - A Conundrum!

In our book club, which will meet this Tuesday at 6, we are reading the Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Kidd Monk.  Since I had driven to Jackson to play tennis I was totally immersed in listening to the book.  Then when I read the Gospel lesson for today I could not believe my luck…  How easy this will be I thought!  Just talk about resurrection!  Well no….  It’s more complicated than I had thought on first blush.  The thing is it is hard for me to get past the parable to Jesus’ message.  The injustice just jumps off the page.

How dare the Sadducees to assume that this woman who had not born any children for seven brothers has no say in the matter herself.  And here we are, in an “enlightened society” and we just read this story focusing on Jesus’ authority - without ever giving her rights, her dignity, her humanity a thought.  At least we have read it that way for some 2000 years.  But I suspect that you, like me, find this parable revolting.

How did this happen?  How can we overlook the assumption that a woman is simply chattel and not worth a moment of concern.  I get a lot of ribbing for my “adjustments to the liturgy”  Most often the changes I make involve substituting God for Lord or Creator for Father.  Instead  of “Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost in the Doxology I sing “Creator. Christ, and Holy Ghost”. I would use Spirit but the notes don’t match.  LOL 

There is, though, a serious method to my madness.  Lord usually translates adonai, which is the equivalent of ruler or master.  Sometimes it is translated from Yahweh (Jehovah), the sacred covenant name of the Desert God of the Hebrew people.  God, on the other hand, most often translates elohim, which appears to mean something like "the mighty one."   For me it is the difference between “set over” and “set apart”.  To be set over is to rule, to control but to be set apart implies a companionship and mutually loving relationship.  I also realize that there are times when the syntax makes it awkward to make that substitution.  But here’s the thing, everytime it is awkward it makes us think about what we are saying.  Sue Kidd reminds us:

“The core symbols we use for God represent what we take to be the highest good....These symbols or images shape our worldview, our ethical system, and our social practice--how we relate to one another.  For instance, [Elizabeth A.] Johnson suggests that if a religion speaks about God as warrior, using militaristic language such as how "he crushes his enemies" and summoning people to become soldiers in God's army, then the people tend to become militaristic and aggressive.
Likewise, if the key symbol of God is that of a male king (without any balancing feminine imagery), we become a culture that values and enthrones men and masculinity.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman's Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine

The Patriarchy that is woven into our Gospel lesson today is a perfect example of the normalization of a tradition that has little of nothing to do with God who is Love.  And it effects not only our liturgy and music and prayer, it infects our everyday lives.  It tears down the value of half of God’s children and puts unreasonable stress on the other half.  Kidd’s book is subtitled “A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine”.   There is a fundamental truth in the realization that in fact this awakening is a journey of loving self that opens the door for being able to love the other.  What we say in our worship can place roadblocks or build super highways for that journey.  In truth we have no way of speaking about God, about the “mighty one, the holy one” without images.  Our images and our symbols, Kidd says, those things expressed in our music, in our prayer, in our physical space, they create a universal language that the deepest reaches of our souls understand.   (loosely quoted)

There is a theological truth… Lex Orandi Lex Credendi.  Our prayer shapes our belief.  Embedded in our Eucharistic prayer is an admonition from the celebrant…  Proclaim the mystery of faith!  And the congregation responds “Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again”.  Right there in the midst of the Eucharistic Prayer we profess to believe in Christ’s Resurrection and note that it is unprovable and therefore mysterious.  Mystery is one of my favorite words.  It is at once awful and wonderful, powerful and gentle, forceful and yielding, firm but graceful.  Mystery is that which we seek, but which is just outside of our grasp. 

In our gospel lesson this morning the people with the rule books, the Sadducees, try really hard to make Jesus slip up and look like a fool in front of all those people who have been following him around and listening to him teach.  These Sadduccees were well-heeled politically and economically.  They followed the Torah, but put less emphasis on the writings of the prophets than some other groups.  Since Torah does not speak of Resurrection they did not profess to believe in it.  Other Jewish sects, notably the Pharisees, did believe in some form of resurrection.  Jesus doesn’t really sidestep their question, but neither does he fall into their trap.  Instead he alludes to a different paradigm for living, one that is not bound by mortal constraints.  But, I am not going to delve heavily into the theology of the Resurrection now, rather I want to make the point that this particular story that is told about Jesus is less about the theology of resurrection and more about the authority which Jesus has claimed. 

The Sadducees address Jesus as Teacher, but only to set him up –– asking a trick question designed to stump rather than to enlighten –– attempting to embarrass Jesus –– to undercut his authority as a teacher.  They invite Jesus into the no-win territory between the no-resurrection Sadducees and the resurrection Pharisees –– a place where he is bound to alienate at least half the crowd.  But Jesus is not stumped.  Instead he boggles the mind by taking the discussion out of the present context all together- honestly I think He would have been uncomfortable with 7 brothers owning a woman… -  He leads those gathered into that place of mystery where the boundaries of 1^st century Palestine society do not apply.  To a place where the children of God transcend mortal coils and live in relationship with God and with each other throughout eternity - for in God all are alive. 

Jesus’ teachings in Luke, so full of parables and healings stories, serve as an invitation to us to move beyond the confines of our own limited knowledge and experience and to embrace the mystery of abundant love and mercy.  Come and see, take, eat, enter in, behold, consider, dwell.  Jesus invites us to consider a different way of being in relationship with God and with each other.  The invitation we have is to consent to a relationship that surprises us, astounds us, comforts us and baffles us.  But for this relationship we must put away our earthly desires, paradigms, ways of being, and open ourselves up to the limitless possibilities of God.  We must turn from being in control to trusting that whatever is down the road, God will travel it with us.  We must as Sue Kidd says, allow the feminine Goddess in each of us burst out of the shackles of patriarchy.

Trusting in God in this way allows us to free ourselves from the literalistic rules that limit God.  Frees us from energy sapping guilt and shame.  Trust allows us the time and space to let life happen without worry and anxiety about what others think of us or how we will juggle all the balls that we carry around day to day.  Trust liberates us to live joyfully in the midst of the mystery of God.  How we express that trust in word and action really does matter.  Amen