Reclaiming our Stories: Potiphar's Wife

By Jennifer Roberts 

Read more of Potiphar's Wife's story: Genesis 39

Prayer: Holy One, all creation bears the story of your love and grace. Forgive us when we do not stop to hear the stories of others, when we do not share space for your story to continue to be written. Give us eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts that are open to your image and your story in and through all of creation. In the name of Jesus Christ, who bore the story of forgiveness and grace in his very body for us. Amen. 

When I first told my spouse that I would be writing a devotional about Potiphar’s wife for a devotional series on Reclaiming the Stories of Women in the Bible, he was flabbergasted that Potiphar’s wife would be included among these other women. “How are you going to talk about a woman who tries to seduce another man?” he asked. Admittedly, I was not sure how this was going to go, but being stubborn I insisted that it could be done and that she was simply misunderstood. Secretly, however, I laid in bed that night begging the Spirit to figure something out and quick! 

Reading this story over and over again on a surface level, it seems very obvious that there is a person in the wrong and a person in the right. This story begins giving great detail about the relationship that Joseph has with God. And it’s not just favor with God that Joseph has, but favor with his Egyptian master, Potiphar. This story sets the reader up to see Joseph as a man who is a humble servant, while setting Potiphar’s wife up as a tricky woman who waits on her husband to leave before sneaking up on her prey. And while I am not suggesting that Joseph did anything wrong, I am suggesting that we have been given the gift of Joseph’s story; insight into a favor that has placed him on the right side, leaving the seat on the wrong side wide open for Potiphar’s wife. 

The gift of someone’s story is sacred. 

Yet, Potiphar’s wife doesn’t even have a name in this story, much less a space to be vulnerable and offer the gift of her own story. And the little space that she has been given is occupied by the imaginations of all those who will read this story on the surface level without stopping to ask questions about what she’s been through, how she sees the world, and where she will end up. Her story may contain truths that have left her neglected, longing for companionship and attention that has not been given to her by her absent husband. 

Additionally, it may be that in this story the character the author seeks to display is one that our own society has long burdened women with as they seek to have their voices heard, to have their stories believed, and who remain nameless, which creates just enough space that men who wish to excuse their behavior have called themselves Joseph and given Potiphar’s wife the name of their victim – wielding the power of their story against those who have long had to fight for their own.

Stories are not only sacred, but they hold power. God is calling each of us to hear the stories of those around us and to find the image of the Divine in them. And not only that, we have a baptismal call to be caretakers of these stories – listening carefully, looking for who has been given power and who has not, and offering the space to hear more, reserving judgment until we too have been willing to share our own. When the gifts of stories are exchanged we often find that we have more in common than we do different and that stories are not always as they seem until we are willing to be vulnerable with one another. 

Your story is sacred. 

Your story has power. 

May your story be known and believed in its fullness, because your story is part of God’s story!

Amen.

Reclaiming our Stories: Tamar

By The Rev. Victoria L. Hamilton

Read more of Tamar's story in Genesis 38  

Tamar is introduced into this text by way of marriage to one of Judah’s son’s, Er. … Er was not an honest man, in the sight of God, and was put to death by God. (vs7). After his death, Judah then instructed his second son, Onan, to “go to your brother’s wife and perform the duty of a brother in law, and raise up any offspring as his (deceased) brother’s. (vs 8). Onan, didn’t quite like that idea, & let his sperm spill on the ground, … And God,  displeased, put him to death also. Tamar was then promised to the youngest son, Shelah, when he became of age, but, and until that time, Tamar was sent back to her fathers home.

Now, good people, I read through this and the preceding and following chapters a couple times. I, myself, was taken aback trying to put myself in that situation. It seems as though, the irony of the culture of the day, sounds a bit like trafficking! Abuse of some kind or another.  Women’s rights were not the topic or concern of the day. How women really felt about their own culture, I do not know and wonder... Legal, but … what say you?  How does this structure sound to you? If you were to meet Tamar today, and she came to confide in you, How might you, in today’s mindset, encourage her? Does this sound like a - Let’s call Hubbard House or another agency that might help and give counsel, funds, clothes, a place to stay …??   Do you know  a “Tamar”? 

Time passed when she, Tamar, learned that her father-in-law, Judah, was coming to town, for business. She positioned herself on the road, ‘to see’ that Shelah was now grown; and there was an exchange between she and Judah!! Conversation and a sexual exchange. No, he did not recognize her.…The younger son had not been given to her, or her to him; Tamar accepted her father-in-law's “request” to sleep with her. (Lawd! or Lord, have mercy!) 

For insurance sake (my words), she asked for items from Judah, a signet (small seal set inside a ring, that shows authenticity or identification of the owner), a cord and his staff.

Sometimes as women, we are not seen, thought to be intelligent, or considered as equal … In what ways do you see women or yourself as Not Being Seen? .. Where or how have you "Positioned yourself" to make a wrong right? Do you know others who may have "positioned themselves" to right a wrong? .. i.e. at work, in your family, at church, family conversations, school. Was it a hard decision to stand up for yourself or another? Tamar saw promises not kept and sought to make them right. Where has that happened in your life or the life of others? What promises have been made to women, (man or child), that have not been kept OR are trying to be rescinded? What, if anything, are our insurances?

More time passes when Judah hears that Tamar is pregnant, and was being called a whore because the town knew she was a widow. Jumping in haste, Judah calls for her to be “burned” (vs24). Tamar is able to save herself by showing the signet, cord and staff to Judah, who then recognized his own (initial) faults and spared her life. He had broken his promise to her, to give her to his 3rd son, Shelah, in marriage.

How quickly we sometimes jump to conclusions about a person or persons in our society at large.  Are women still being “burned,” to be silenced or eliminated? How do you see or feel that happening? In today’s climate, where might you see that happening? Do you see resolutions? Who needs to be at the table? Can morals that are taught, that sometimes seek to destroy, be amended? Can conversation REALLY happen? Action? How could our lives be more understanding today? Is forgiveness a factor?

Tamar stayed in the town of her father and gave birth to twins, boys, Perez and Zerah. One twin, Zerah, was making his entrance into the world, was marked by a crimson, red thread, by the midwife, on his hand, and drew it back; the second twin, Perez was then born first.

Tamar was the "host" to bring these young people into the world. There will be huge differences between these brothers in the future. How do we set up our children, to be who they will become as adults?  What, in you, has sustained you, that you hope to share with your children, grandchildren and others?  I was "host" to two children, and  have been a surrogate "host" (Mama/Ma as I’m called), spiritually, physically, and mentally for many many many, young people. 

As Tamar was blessed, I was blessed, and have been able to see the growth of many young people, not just my birth children. All of them are different, but GOD provides much more than I’m capable of on my own. As we travel through this life, let’s remember that we are not traveling alone. That sometimes we need to reach out to others, while other times we may need to stand alone fighting for the injustices/justices within us and around us. My thoughts and prayers are with each of us as we reach deep inside ourselves and find strength, courage, patience, and encouragement to do that which is right by others, but especially because that is a call from God. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Dinah

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Dinah's story: Genesis 34

Now Dinah, the daughter Leah had borne to Jacob, went out to visit the women of the land. When Shechem son of Hamor the Hivite, the ruler of that area, saw her, he took her and raped her. His heart was drawn to Dinah daughter of Jacob; he loved the young woman and spoke tenderly to her. And Shechem said to his father Hamor, “Get me this girl as my wife” (Genesis 34:1-4).

It feels like I've opened every Bible study with comments about how each of these women are pawns in someone else's story. Dinah does not seem to be much different. 

Dinah is the only daughter mentioned of all of Jacob's children. She is Leah's daughter, the youngest of Leah's children. Her fate is similar to what we might expect, given the stories that we have already read throughout Genesis. She went out to visit with some women, she is raped by a powerful man, he demands that she become his wife. The narrative is a bit different after this, though, as her brothers seem to be protective of her. So they devise a plan to vindicate her, killing all of the Shechemites while they are sore from circumcision. Jacob is furious with his sons, fearing that he will be despised throughout the country because of what they have done. But the brothers still defend their sister, saying "should he have our sister treated like a prostitute?" 

Dinah's story is told as a warning for women: if you go out in public, especially with other women, you might be raped. It is much better, then, to stay in the privacy and protection of your own home, relying on your family and especially the men in your family to protect you and make decisions for you. 

Of course this is not much different from much of what we teach young girls today. When I went to college, my dad gave me a taser and pepper spray, claiming that I would need to defend myself against men who would want to harm me. I don't remember my parents remarking much about my clothing as I grew up, but I often heard my friends and classmates remark that a girl was "asking for it" in the way that she dressed. Before I entered college, I was given an array of ways to protect myself (apparently from the ever-present threat of men) when I'm leaving work: 

• Don't enter an elevator occupied by a single man. 
• Don't park in a public garage, there are too many hiding places for predators. Park on a well-lit street. 
• Always take your keys out of your bag before you leave your workplace so you don't have to hesitate outside. 
• Put your keys between your fingers so you can slash at someone if they attack you. 
• Always have your phone out in case you need to fake a phone call with someone. This will sometimes stop a person from following you. (There are even videos for this exact purpose.) 
• Lock your car as soon as you get inside. 
• If a cop pulls you over, put on your blinkers and get to a well-lit area, preferably with lots of people around. If you can't, keep your blinkers on and call the dispatcher to confirm there are police in the area in case it is someone posing as a cop, preying on women. 
• Take a woman-specific self-defense course. 
• Don't ever respond to a person catcalling you, especially when you are alone.  

If these seem ridiculous or overboard, I'd recommend chatting with your sister, wife, girlfriend, mom, daughter, or woman coworker. There is a whole other set of rules about going out at night to a restaurant or bar. (They are actually marketing to our fear now-- click here for an example of what women can put on their cups so they won't be drugged.)

Women are taught to fear being in public spaces, especially alone. Dinah's story is often used as a cautionary tale against leaving the protection of your (man-centered) family. It is important to note that the only part of the story that gives Dinah any agency is the very beginning: "Dinah... went out..." For the rest of the story, she had things done to her. For many, this emphasizes that when women are given choices and agency, only terrible things can come from it. Her rape, commentators imply, was her own fault for leaving her family and cavorting with other women in town. 

Questions to consider: 
If you are a woman, what kind of "rules" do you follow to stay safe? 
If you are a man, do you follow any of these same "rules?" 
If we are called to both mercy (responding to violence against women) and justice (preventing violence against women), what is the call of God's people?  

______________

"Dear daddy, I will be born a girl. Please do everything you can so that won't stay the greatest danger of all."

The following video is graphic and contains strong language. However, it is poignant and speaks volumes about the issues women face today. For more statistics about violence again women, visit the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network (RAINN) website. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Bilhah & Zilpah

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Bilhah's and Zilpah's stories: Genesis 29:24, 29; 30:3-13; 31:33; 32:17, 22; 35:22, 26; 37:2, 46:18, 25

It is not fair to lump these women into one story. Each woman is a unique and wonderful child of God, who has her own story and own gifts. Unfortunately, we do not hear those stories from the Bible. We do not hear about Bilhah's kind eyes or Zilpah's grace and beauty. We do not hear if one is younger or older, if one is taller than the other. We do not know who their parents are or their ethnic origins. We know their names and that they were pawns in the story of a fight between two powerful, jealous, and longing sisters. 

I recently read an article saying that it is about time that we tell stories as they are, instead of how they are romanticized to be. It was in reference to the time of slavery, but I think (and I believe theologian Phyllis Trible would agree) that we need to do this biblically as well. For that reason, you will read words and phrases in this post that might be difficult (especially regarding slavery and sexual assault). 

Bilhah and Zilpah were slaves to Rachel and Leah, hostages in their own time. They were taken from their homes and trafficked by Laban, and given to his daughters. Even in the case that Bilhah and Zilpah were Laban's daughters and Rachel and Leah's half sisters (which is a rabbinic tradition), they were obviously his daughter by one of his rape victims, not by his wife, as they were not given the same respect and dignity of Rachel and Leah. 

As if Bilhah's and Zilpah's dignity is not stripped enough simply by being slaves, they are raped by Jacob and bear him four children. Their children will be ripped from them and taken as Leah and Rachel's. Later, when Rachel dies, Bilhah is raped by Leah's oldest son, Reuben (Genesis 35:22). 

This sounds difficult and harsh. Perhaps we can write it off as being "just the way things were in Biblical times." But this "tradition" of raping slaves and then further enslaving their children was a common practice in this country well into the late 1800s. Here in Jacksonville, Zephaniah Kingsley, Jr. (of the Kingsley Plantation in the Timucuan Ecological and Historical Preserve) was known to be a "lenient" human trafficker. Yet, his first "wife" Anna was trafficked from Havana, Cuba when she was 13 years old. He had three other "wives" that he trafficked from various places and had a total of nine children with them. We're told that he educated his children "to high standards," but never freed them or his "wives," even upon his death. Anna, his first "wife," is buried in an unmarked grave in the Arlington area. 

I tell this story to emphasize that the story of Bilhah and Zilpah is not an isolated incident from thousands of years ago. The story continues into the 19th century in the chattel slavery system and even today, as generations of Black men are enslaved in the prison industrial complex. 

I wish we had more of Bilhah and Zilpah's stories. I wish we knew about their origins and their favorite foods. But we can continue to hear their story in the lines between Leah and Rachel, and tell how this story continue today. It is a small way to give them their dignity, as precious children of God, to remember them as such. 

Questions to consider:

How much do you know about Jacksonville's history? 

How is history told in "whitewashed" or "watered down" ways? For example, describing a slave-owner as "lenient" or describing a 13 year-old slave as a "wife."

How can we tell stories more honestly, even if they are difficult? 

Reclaiming our Stories: Leah

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Leah's story: Genesis 29:14-25; 30; 31:19, 30-35; 35:16-26

Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah’s eyes were (Lovely? Weary? Tired? Tender? Soft? Delicate? Weak?), and Rachel was graceful and beautiful (Genesis 29:16-17). 

Last week, we explored quite a bit about the younger of Laban’s daughters, and, like the preference given in the Bible, we will discuss the elder this week. 

This theme of the younger being favored seems to be repeated a few times in Genesis: we heard about Jacob being the younger but favored twin of Rebekah’s boys, and now we notice that Jacob favors the younger daughter of his uncle. The pattern will continue with Jacob’s favorite son being one of his youngest, Joseph. It seems to cause nothing but trouble for our ancestors. 

But what I want to focus on this week is the description of Leah’s eyes in Genesis 29:17. There is no consensus about what this word ועיני לאה רכות in Hebrew means for our English translation. As you saw in my translation above, it could mean anything from “lovely” to “weary.” Whatever the correct translation might be, it seems to be contrasted or compared to Rachel, who was graceful and beautiful. 

What does having “weak” or “weary eyes” even mean? Can she not see very well? Is she partially blind? This seems less likely because she is being compared to Rachel’s outward appearance. So what could it mean to have weak appearing eyes? Perhaps they are small or not as striking as her sister’s. 

I find the interpretation from the Rashi commentary to be really compelling. A Rabbinic tradition says that Leah was to marry Jacob’s older twin brother Esau. It would make sense, historically and in terms of family ties. Rebekah had two sons, and her brother Laban had two daughters. Anyone would expect them to be good matches to join the families closer together (disregarding the general squeamishness 21st century readers feel about cousins marrying). When Leah found out that she would be arranged to marry Esau, the hunter who is rough and ungodly, she spent most of her time weeping and praying to God to change her husband. And from the story we see in the canon, God allows Leah to marry Jacob even before Rachel does, changing her fate and ultimately making her the mother to many nations. 

Whether the rabbinical tradition is simply “Biblical fan fiction” as we like to call it, or if it may ring true, we know that Leah was the unfavored by Jacob, but perhaps the more favored by God. If we, like the ancient writers, equate fertility with God’s favor, she seems to be in abundance. 

Perhaps despite her weak eyes, she is able to see more clearly God’s plan for her and even her place in Jacob’s household as a mother and partner. 

When has comparison gotten you in trouble? Is comparing yourself to others ever beneficial? What does God have to say or do about rivalry? 

Reclaiming our Stories: Rachel

By Hannah Bardin

Read more of Rachel's story: Genesis 29:14-25; 30; 31:19, 30-35; 35:16-26 

Writing about Rachel was surprisingly hard. I spent hours reading commentaries and watching videos and sermons about Rachel and Leah trying to get a handle on what I would write. Nearly everything I found cast Rachel in one of two roles: the beautiful, demure, patient younger sister, or the bitter, jealous, spiteful wife. Rachel, according to the Bible, is both. She’s complex and multifaceted, and her story is deep and meaningful. She doesn’t have to be watered down or simplified for her story to mean something. 

Rachel is the beautiful younger sister. She’s described as beautiful in the moment we’re introduced to her. She does wait fourteen years to marry the love of her life. First she’s told she has to wait seven years to marry Jacob, and then at the last moment her father swaps her out for Leah at the wedding. She wants to have children so badly that at one point she yells to her husband, “give me children or I will die”. She’s always described as Jacob’s favorite wife, despite how long it was before she was able to have a son. When she finally gives birth to Joseph, she says “God has taken away my reproach. May the Lord add to me another son!”, and she eventually has another boy. She’s remembered by many as a matriarch of the faith, and her tomb remains a landmark for many. 

Rachel also has some less desirable traits. She initially offers up her maid to serve as a surrogate because she was so envious of Leah’s sons. When she screams to Jacob, “give me children or I will die”, he tells her to take it up with God, because Jacob isn’t the one preventing her from having children. When her maid, Bilhah, gives birth to her second son, she names him Naphtali, because Rachel has “had a great struggle with [her] sister, and [she has] won.” Toward the end of her life, she and her family flee from their homeland, and she secretly steals her father’s house gods. Not even Jacob knows that she’s taken them. She hides her superstitions and shame from everyone. She’s far from the perfect, beautiful sister that some characterize her as.

I think it’s important to recognize that we often only get a fraction of Rachel’s story. Like many women in the Bible, her story is sometimes simplified to make it more palatable or to fit a narrative. How often have you felt like you have to simplify yourself to fit a mould? Have you ever felt that your complexities make you unusable, whether by God or by people? Where does that stem from? Rachel was a deeply complex, deeply meaningful Mother in the Bible, and God is persistent in her life. What’s to say that God isn’t actively working in yours? 

Reclaiming our Stories: Rebekah

By Tobi Fleck 

Read more of Rebekah's story: Genesis 24; 25:21-34; 26:1-17; 27 

Genesis 24:57-61

They [Laban and Bethuel] said, “We will call the girl, and ask her.” And they called Rebekah, and said to her, “Will you go with this man?” She said, “I will.” So they sent away their sister Rebekah and her nurse along with Abraham’s servant and his men. And they blessed Rebekah and said to her, “May you, our sister, become thousands of myriads; may your offspring gain possession of their foes.” Then Rebekah and her maids rose up, mounted the camels. And followed the man; thus the servant [of Abraham] took Rebekah and went his way.

At the beginning of my internship, I had the wonderful experience of working with one of the local Jewish Rabbis on an interfaith project. After the project was finished, she told me that I was free to stay in touch, as she understood how difficult transitions to new cities could be. This prompted a continuing resolution to myself that whenever possible, I would attend Shabbat on Friday night. While there were many parts of Shabbat I loved, one practice stood out to me. During the Avot, not only are the male ancestors (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) named, but so were the women! Every Friday, we remembered Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah. Naming them every Friday rekindled my curiosity as to the stories of these pillars of faith. 

So, here’s an overview of the beginning of Rebekah’s story. Abraham, being very old and having watched his wife Sarah die, sends out his trusted servant, whose name we do not know, with specific instructions to travel back to Abraham’s homeland in search for a wife for Abraham’s son, Isaac. It cannot be someone of Canaanite descent, but must be someone from Abraham’s own tribe. Once the Servant reaches Abraham’s homeland, he prays to God for success in his task and asks for signs. And, sure enough, almost as soon as he was done praying, a woman, our Rebekah, walks up and fulfills all of the signs he asked of God. Better yet, she was indeed of Abraham’s kin!

The Servant goes with Rebekah to her family home and shares his story with Rebekah’s family. The whole story, from Abraham commissioning him to go forth, to his conversations with God, and Rebekah’s role in fulfilling it all. 

And then, we get to the part that still amazes me. Rebekah is asked for her consent. We hear her voice said “I will.” Now, in today’s day, that might seem like a no-brainer. Of course it would be her decision if she’d go and marry someone she’d never met, who lives in a different country. But in scripture, rarely do we hear of women making these choices, let alone literally hear their voices say the words. Rebekah’s voice here is important, and important to acknowledge. 

There are tons of discussion questions that could take place around the story of Rebekah. Questions surrounding Abraham’s choice to find a kinswoman for his son’s wife. Questions around the rivalry between Israel and Canaan. And how that might relate to modern day rivalries. Or maybe questions about times you have asked God for help in a task- times you’ve asked for signs and have they been given to you. 

Often, we only hear one side of a story, particularly the dominant, privileged side, but today I want you to ask yourself: Whose voices do I hear often? What stories do they tell? Whose voices don’t I hear? What stories might they tell? And how has this played into the entrenched racism rampant in our own country? 

White folx: There are many resources out there to help you begin to hear other voices, other lived experiences. I would encourage you to take some time this week to pick up a book, or download an audio book, or visit a website, and listen to voices you’ve not heard before. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Lot's Wife

by Alexandria Long

Read more of her story: Genesis 19:12-29 

Two angels arrived in Sodom in the evening and were invited to spend the night at Lot’s home.  Due to the depravity and wickedness of the men in Sodom, the angels were used by the Lord to destroy the town.  Lot, his wife, and two daughters were taken away from the town and told not to look back and to flee to the hills to survive.  Lot only wanted to go to a small, nearby town however, because he said he would die if he went to the hills.  The angels agreed.  As they were fleeing, Lot’s wife looked back and became a pillar of salt.

That’s all we have for Lot’s wife.  She is not named in the Bible, although some Jewish traditions (the Midrash) have named her “Edith.”  She doesn’t argue with the angels, she doesn’t defend the men or their actions in the town, and she certainly doesn’t offer up anyone else to be raped, like Lot did with their two virgin daughters.  She definitely doesn’t rape anybody herself, like Lot’s daughters do to Lot after the destruction of the Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding area.  She actually doesn’t say a word.

I thought, when I picked Lot’s wife to reflect on her story, it was going to be a story about a test of faith and Lot’s wife failed.  She turned into a pillar of salt because she didn’t have faith or trust in God.  And, it’s true that some commentaries say that.  Women in Scripture reads, “Salt preserves her in a fixed state.  Is this symbolic of her still being tied to the security that city culture is assumed to offer?”  Some traditions come in super aggressively, saying Lot’s wife disobeyed the angels and looked back because she was betraying her secret longing for that way of life (Schrafstein, Torah and Commentary), while some opinions are kinder, saying she was checking on her daughters.  All the text says is: The angels said, “Flee for your life; do not look back or stop anywhere in the Plain; flee to the hills, or else you will be consumed,” (Genesis 19:17).  Lot’s wife looked back, and she was turned into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:26).  All the traditions and commentaries are just offering opinions and conjecture that the Bible certainly doesn’t have.  

There’s no real judgement or test in the Bible.  It wasn’t about her faith or her past sins.  The angels cautioned the humans to keep running and not to look back so they wouldn’t get distracted.  A natural disaster courtesy of God’s judgement and wrath was about to rain down on that area and any human still in the area was going to be consumed.  The text says “sulfur and fire,” and the Lutheran Study Bible says this could have been an earthquake with associated fires and natural bitumen deposits.  Lot’s wife becoming distracted and hesitating wasn’t about her faith or sins, it was about her getting caught up in an explosion in an environmental disaster because she didn’t flee the area.  The biblical text does not comment on Lot’s wife: she’s just another human, in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in an act of God.

How have natural disasters affected you or your faith community, especially when they’re blamed on God’s judgement for perceived wickedness (e.g. hurricanes and tornadoes being blamed on God for people accepting gay marriage)?  How do you react when life just happens, when you’re caught up in something damaging through no fault of your own and you just have to learn how to deal with it?  What does it mean to your faith or your outlook on God, that the oppressed and the oppressors are treated the same in this story? (The entire area was destroyed; those who sinned, those who were innocent, elderly, children, all animals, etc).

Reclaiming our Stories: Hagar

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Hagar's story: Genesis 16; 21:1-21

The story of Hagar that we read in Genesis consists of three main acts. It is a difficult story to read for some, as it involves multiple layers of abuse.  

Act I - Sarai gives her slave-girl Hagar to Abram in order for Sarai to “obtain children by her” (Genesis 16:2) and Hagar becomes pregnant. Sarai becomes jealous, is cruel to Hagar, and Hagar runs away (Genesis 16:6). 

Act II - An angel of the Lord appears to Hagar and speaks directly with her, making an annunciation and giving a name to her child. God tells Hagar to return to Abram and Sarai. Hagar names the Lord, returns to Abram, and gives birth to Ishmael (Genesis 16:7-16). 

Act III - Sarah gives birth to Isaac and, after some time, sends Hagar and Ishmael away. God saves Hagar and Ishmael in the wilderness. God is with the boy as he grows up and Hagar finds him a wife in Egypt (Genesis 21:1-21). 

The first thing that I recognize about Hagar’s story is that I should not be the one reflecting on it and giving my own perspective. I am, for all intents and purposes, Sarai in this story. I have a comfortable home, I have privilege and status inherent in my ethnicity (whiteness for me, Hebrew for Sarai), I hold promises from God that I do not always understand or believe. Who am I to shed light on Hagar’s story? When people who look like me have spent the majority of history using, oppressing, and discarding women in positions like Hagar’s? 

Perhaps all I can do is confront the harsh reality of this story and the ways in which it has been distorted throughout history. Perhaps I can allow space for Hagar to speak into her own story. 

This story is about two women pitted against one another, under the forces and pressures of a patriarchal society. But unlike we hear in this text, Hagar “foreigner” is not just some random slave woman. Many rabbinical commentators claim that Hagar is actually pharaoh's daughter, given to Sarai when she was part of the pharaoh's harem (Genesis 12:15). Some rabbis even say that Hagar’s true name is Keturah, and that when Sarah died Abraham sought her out, married her, and had six more children with her. 

It stands to reason that many rabbinical commentators regard Hagar with much more dignity than Paul, who uses Hagar as an example of being in bondage to the law, while Sarah is freed by grace (Galatians 4). Later Christians like Augustine, Aquinas, and Wycliffe continue to abuse an already abused woman, claiming that she is "unredeemed." Perhaps Christianity’s hatred toward Hagar has more to do with her part as the matriarch of the Islamic faith (the prophet Muhammed would come through Ishmael). 

Whatever the reason, Hagar has received very little sympathy and almost no voice in the Christian tradition. 

In fact, the only time that Hagar speaks in the entire Genesis narrative is when she is approached by a messenger of the Lord in the wilderness, stating that she is running away from her mistress and when she names God (Genesis 16:8, 13). Then God sends her back to her abusers. Read that again. God sends her back to her abusers. I imagine this is why Phyllis Trible includes this story in her book Texts of Terror-- not even God is on the side of the oppressed in this story.

This encounter with the divine is remarkable. Hagar is the first woman to receive an annunciation from God and “the only person in the Bible who named God... [and] the one doing the naming has a kind of power over the one who is named” (Rev. Dr. Lynn Japinga, Preaching the Women of the Old Testament). She is also the only woman to receive a divine promise of descendants. 

How is it that a woman with this much power in the wilderness, even power over God, is held captive and silenced in the bondage of Sarai and Abram? Perhaps this woman is more than a slave, perhaps she is the daughter of the Pharaoh, perhaps she is one who is seen by God and redeemed by the birth of her son. Perhaps we owe her the dignity of telling her story truthfully and fully every time we encounter it. 

Questions for reflection: 

Have you ever lost your voice or the ability to tell your own story? Has it ever been taken from you? 

What can we do to advocate for and amplify the voices of minorities and the historically oppressed? How can we tell stories more truthfully and fully?

Reclaiming our Stories: Noah's Wife

By Rev. Victoria (PV) Hamilton - Retired ELCA Pastor

Read more of Noah’s Wife's story: Genesis 6:5-22, Chapters 7 & 8

This text is the story of Noah and his call and journey, in what is known as The Flood Story.

Noah is a righteous man and is seen by God as the right person to execute God’s plan. God is very unhappy with humankind at this stage in history and is thinking of destroying ALL of earth and anything living; humans, animal and vegetation too. But, Noah has God’s heartstrings and God’s plan includes Noah carrying out that plan. Building an ark, gathering his family, male and female animals (for reproduction) as well as vegetation. He and his family, his wife (6:18), sons and their wives would be the only humans on board. The waters came for 40 days (7:17-24) and remained 150 days (7:24). At the end of the flood, the earth was ‘clean’ with new vegetation, the animals on the ark and Noah with his family were then to inhabit the earth. 

As I read this account that was very familiar to me, my senses/spirit, became somewhat agitated because this was Noah’s story. If this was to be a reflection for and about women, this was such a weak account. In fact, I know I’ve read over and missed that Noah had a wife!!  

In this account Noah’s ‘wife’ is mentioned 5 different times. 5 times only! 6:18, she’ll get to go on the ark, 7:7,13 she’s on the ark, 8:16, she’s there when the waters subside and 7:18, she went off the ark with the others. 

How many times in your life have you felt overlooked? Do people know your name? How do you think you’re seen by others? Do You feel your worth? Are you considered ‘wife’ or ‘mom’ or  ‘neighbor’ or ‘so and so’s something or other or simply ‘friend,' just because of the company you keep? How are you able to be that multi-talented woman, that I know you are, putting your encouragement and presence in your family, job or community and feel whole? Do you feel whole? Are you just going through the motions of life or what others think you should do and be? What makes you stick around in your present circumstance? Do you feel respect for yourself, as solely ‘presence’?

This text, is prevalent even in today’s society, in one form or another. I may have sensitive eyes/heart, as an almost 69 year old woman who hasn’t always, and may still not, have been heard or seen. In my early years, I chose to be a “house executive," better known as housewife, to raise my children. (long story)  Today, I will tell you that was and is the best ‘job’ I’ve EVER had. Those that may seem silent or less than, have a zillion ways they are contributing to life and to society, just as Noah’s wife did. She was a valuable part of her household and God saw fit for her to accompany her husband on the journey God had called him too. She too, had been called! 

Never doubt who you are and why. Let’s make a practice to listen to God and ask for God's leading in the life God has call us too. We are not to journey through life alone. Remember: I am somebody, ‘cause God don’t make no junk! You, my sister, are beautiful and wonderfully made.

Side Note: Noah’s wife had a name. Her name was NAAMAH (which means "the beautiful") according to Jewish tradition. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Eve

by Sarah Locke

Read more of Eve's story: Genesis 1; 2; 3:1-23; 4:1-15 

"The man named his wife Eve, because she was the mother of all living. And the Lord God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife, and clothed them" (Genesis 3:20-21). 

There is a lot that can be said about the story of Eve. In fact, a lot has already been said about Eve, and generally speaking, it has not been favorable to her or the rest of her sex. But what seems to be the very end of Eve’s story is my favorite part. She would become “the mother of all the living,” so her name would literally mean “to give life.” 

Unlike Adam, who is made from the soil and would toil in the soil, Eve was made from the living and brings forth life into all the world. Her name, even without knowing all the details of the narrative, tells the story of a woman who will go forth into the world, providing for the world, abiding in God’s command to be fruitful and multiply, creating as God first created. 

Even before I became pregnant with our son, my husband and I talked endlessly about names. We looked up meanings of names, thought of people we admired, and went back and forth until we settled on something that felt right. Eventually we decided on Bennet Alexander. Bennet is the surname of my favorite literary family from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It also means “blessed.” Alexander is my brother’s middle name and means “defender,” making Bennet Alexander a “blessed defender,” something we hope he will grow into some day. 

Regardless of how we read these stories in Genesis— as history, as allegory, or as truth— this is strong encouragement to women throughout the world who are given the names of their ancestors. May it give courage to those who are named into a legacy, those whose names carry the weight of thousands of women before them, and those whose names hold deep and abiding meaning for the namers. Eve would give life to all living. Even us. Especially us. 

What is the story of your name? Does it have significant meaning? Does it hold a certain power or give you a certain power? If you could choose meaning for your name (and you can), what would you choose? Who would you be? How does your name give life to all living?