Hannah: The Other Woman

1 Samuel 1:1-2:11

Forgive these tears -
I can't stop them anymore.
My sadness is an ocean
so deep I cannot eat,
so deep I cannot sleep.

Awake at night I hear them
sometimes, in the room next door -
him and her -
the other woman.
It had to be, he said.
And I understand.
But that doesn't help.
You'll always be my first love, he says.
And I believe him.
But that doesn't help either.
For my problem is not jealousy -
my problem is me.

Who is the other woman?
She, or me?
Who of us fulfills her purpose
as woman and as wife?
Who has done her duty -
and who has had to be replaced?
Are her tauntings true?
Sometimes I think they are
and I cry and I cry
and I can't tell him why
because he wouldn't understand.

Am I not more than sons? he says.
Of course he is -
but that doesn't help.
I love you even so, he says.
I know -
but that doesn't help either.
For nothing can help me -
nothing
but YOU.

Lord, you are the island
in my stormy ocean,
the rock I can hold on to,
the only hope for me.
You lift up the weak,
you feed the hungry,
you turn the barren woman
into a mother.
Your power can turn
the world upside-down.

Turn my world upside-down.
Change this sadness into joy,
and my begging into thanks.
Fill my empty rooms
with children's laughter
and give my life purpose again.
But not for me -
no, for your glory,
that your power can be seen
on a small, weak thing like me.
And I will give you all I have,
my greatest treasure,
my most valued gift:
the child
that you are giving me.

________________________________________________________

[January 2012]

I was trying to imagine what it might feel like for Hannah to be one of two wives - especially because she was the one who couldn't have children. In those days, a central part of a woman's life was bearing children. There's still cultures where women mainly exist as "baby machines" (extremely said). I can imagine that Elkanah married Peninnah because Hannah couldn't have children, and sort of "added" her so that he'd have heirs. Anyway, those were my background thoughts to this poem. ^^

I based a lot around Hannah's prayer in 1 Sam 2 - which is very similar to the Magnificat (Mary's prayer) in the Gospel of Luke: God turns the world around, He does things differently from our expectations, He is not like us. To the world, Hannah was a failure: a woman who couldn't fulfill her purpose in life, namely that of bringing children into the world. But God loved her - and He loves all of us too, even if the world does not accept us. God loves broken people - and He can make them whole.

Queen of Sheba: Drawn by the Light

1 Kings 10:1-13 | Matthew 5:14-16

Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. (Isaiah 60:3)

I saw your light shine from afar,
heard stories of riches,
of wisdom incomparable -
rumours, I thought,
but I could not help
but be drawn,
drawn to your light.

I have come to see
if the rumours are true.
I have come to see
your riches and fame.
I have come to see
if you're as wise as they say.
I have come,
drawn by your light.

And I see that the truth
surpasses wildest rumour,
that the light is even brighter
when seen up close,
and I wish I could take
and keep a little spark,
take it home so it can spread
and envelop the world.

I want to know
more about you,
I want to know
the source of your wisdom,
I want to know
the meaning of this blessing -
I want to know your God.

For He is the one
who put the light in you -
He is the one
who draws all to you -
He is the one
who can light a spark in me -
now I am drawn,
drawn to Him.

__________________________________________________________________

[15. November 2014]

The Queen of Sheba (assumed to be in today's Yemen or Ethiopia) heard about Solomon from far away, and wanted to see for herself whether what she had heard was true. She actually brought riddles and questions to properly "test" Solomon's famed wisdom!! This story made me think of the "light of the world" passage in Mt 5, and also of the "light" passage in Isaiah 60.

When God's light shines in us, when we belong to Him and live according to His will and He lives with us and in us, then other people will (or should) notice something about us. Even without saying anything at all (and maybe even without realising it) we "preach" the Gospel by the way we live, the way God is present in and among us. This can lead to people asking questions, wanting to know why we are different - or, as Peter puts it: wanting to know the reason for the hope in us (1 Peter 3:15).

Being a Christian is not a "private matter"... if we are truly following Jesus, then it will be visible. You can't hide a city that's standing on a hill - even if you try to! Also, people watch us - maybe with a critical eye, maybe with a curious eye. The way we live out our faith can attract people to it. I have heard of families in East Asia, where after one person became a Christian, the rest of the family was at first very sceptical, until they saw how that person's life changed for the better, and that either made them accept his decision, or seek out Christianity themselves!

So let us live out our faith and follow Jesus in such a way that people will ask questions! They might be like the Queen of Sheba and ask riddles and "trick questions" first. ;) But that can lead on to them realising the truth about Jesus, and praising God like the Queen of Sheba did at the end of her visit!

Picture by Giovanni Demin.

Sisera's Mother: Waiting

Judges 5:28-30


Waiting.
It is late.
Call me silly - but I worry,
I worry as I wait.

I know
you are a grown man now,
independent,
can care for yourself.
I know
your old mother annoys you
when she worries too much,
when she asks too many questions,
when she pressures you
to come home in time
as if you were still a little boy
getting into scrapes,
vulnerable.
I know -
but I worry,
I worry as I wait.

Don't you know
that to me you are still
that vulnerable child,
coming home crying
after a fight?
A great warrior you may be -
but to me you'll always be
my baby.
And so I worry,
I worry as I wait.

Don't worry, they say.
Don't be silly, they say.
You must be celebrating
another victory
(what else could it be?
You never lose.)
with a girl or two -
why shouldn't you?
Why think of
this old mother of yours,
why care about me
in your hour of victory?
Maybe they're right -
I believe they are right -
because I don't want to consider
what it would mean if
they're wrong.

But still I worry,
I worry as I wait.
It is late.
Please
come home.

______________________________________________________________________

[15. November 2014]

Sisera is the guy who was killed with a tent pole, stuck through his head by Jael. (So yes: he's not coming back...) The whole story is in Judges 4-5. Sisera was the commander of the army of a Canaanite king who was oppressing the Israelites during the time of the Judges.

I decided with this poem to focus on the feelings of a mother who stays up late waiting and worried. Young people like me might find it a bit annoying to be asked "Where have you been?" or "When are you coming home?" or "Can't you take the earlier train??" (Frequently Asked Question by my Mamma some years back, haha..) but maybe we need to understand that mothers aren't trying to curb our independence or control our movements or keep us small and dependent (at least not intentionally) - they're simply concerned out of love for their children, they want their children to be safe. Maybe a better way to react to (what seems like "over-the-top") motherly concern is to be thankful and say "I love you too", instead of getting annoyed? :-)

(And thinking of Sisera and his waiting mother: "I know, I'm late... at least I'm not dead with a tent pole through my head...") (DON'T try that kind of comment though!!)

Picture by Joseph Albert Moore.

Bride of the King: Reconciliation

Psalm 45

Today
is reconciliation.
Today
we forge the bond
between you and me,
between your land and mine.
Today
we seal the covenant.
Today
is the start of peace.

Can I forget my people
and my father's house,
and leave them forever
for you - a stranger?
Can I forsake
all I have known
and dare this alliance
with a stranger - with you?

You are different
from other kings -
you reign with peace and equity,
truth, justice and humility.
You look upon me,
your former enemy,
enthralled -
You are altogether beautiful, my love;
there is no flaw in you.

Can I forget my people
and my father's house,
for you?

Here is reconciliation,
here is peace.
Here is your hand, reaching out
to accept me as your queen.
Here is love
that brings an end to enmity.

So I will take your hand
and enter this alliance,
as joy and song envelop us
into the hopes
of all who long for peace.
And so today
we seal the covenant,
we forge the bond -
today
is reconciliation.

____________________________________________________________

[25. October 2014]

Been wanting to write this ever since reading Psalm 45 some days ago... the Psalm is a wedding song about the wedding of a King with a girl from another country who is called upon to "forget your people and your father's house" (v.10). Some verses seem to point to Jesus (e.g. v.6-7).

Anyway, the Psalm got me thinking about royal "alliance marriages", i.e. where a king married a princess from a foreign country to secure peace and to seal a covenant between the two nations. This was still happening some 100 years ago, actually. On the one hand, I do think one can see it as a problematic practice: a girl being carted off to some foreign country (in a time when people hardly travelled and she probably wouldn't have seen her home and family ever again), to marry a stranger who probably already had a whole load of other "alliance wives" (Solomon had quite a few...). On the other hand, I think that the concept of "alliance marriage" can tell us something about God - since the church (and in the Old Testament Israel) is frequently described as the "bride of Christ" or of God.

Alliance marriages were (a) to seal a covenant between two nations, (b) to secure peace.
In 2. Cor 5:18-20, the message of Jesus is described as a message of reconciliation. God wants reconciliation with us. And the way I see it, it's not God who throughout history has kept a sulky distance - it's us. The Bible shows God approaching us again and again, seeking relationship with us. God does not deny us peace - we are the only ones fighting, by insisting on managing by ourselves and rejecting the love of God. But in Jesus God became one of us, and Jesus died to reconcile us to God. And He wants to accept us as His bride - a gesture of peace, and actually of raising us into honour.

So the "wedding" of God with His people can maybe be seen like an alliance marriage: God wants to seal His covenant with us, and He wants to secure peace. He wants reconciliation with us, wants us to stop fighting off His love. And maybe accepting this love of God and following Jesus means forgetting and forsaking other things - like the bride in the Psalm is called upon to forget her people and her family. It means starting a completely new life, being changed by Him.

The "bride" imagery comes up quite a few times in the Bible, especially in prophetic texts (e.g. Ezekiel 16, Hosea, Jeremiah 3) but also in Revelation. Song of Songs is also often read as an allegory about the love between Christ and the church (and btw, the italicised bit in the poem is SoS 4:7). I find it does good to meditate on such texts and reflect what it means to be the "bride of Christ", how to compare our relationship to Jesus with the relationship of husband and wife.

Picture by Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

Girl with Spirit of Divination: Set Free

Acts 16:16-22

They'd stare at me with eager eyes,
waiting and wanting and wishing to hear
their futures far which I could tell.
For I knew and I saw
what others could not.

A gift? No, a curse,
which I could not fight.
And though some envied me for it
I only felt captive,
used,
and alone.

I never wanted to know -
but I was possessed,
owned by something else,
longing to be free.
It spoke what I did not want to speak,
It told me what I did not ask,
It haunted me both night and day
till I thought I'd go mad -
or was I already?

And then I saw them,
bearers of good news,
and felt Its fear,
for It knew (and so did I)
that my help was near.
nd day by day I followed them
and so did It
and It shouted out
the truth It could not bear,
and yet the truth that all should hear -

And I knew then:
they would use me
like all the others did
who saw not me
but the demon enslaving me,
who wanted Its knowledge
but cared nothing for me.
Why should they let
this precious gift go -
so precious to them, such torture to me?
I had nothing left
but despair
and Its foul cackling laughter.

But they were different.
With Your eyes, they saw me,
with Your ears, they heard me,
with Your heart, they cared
for more than my divinations.
They freed me with Your power,
and I am set free.

And now I walk unchained,
free to walk the path You did,
free to speak out of my heart
of all the love You showed to me.
The puppet master's lost Its power:
to You, my Father, I belong now,
a child, not a slave,
loved, not controlled,
free,
so free,
and finally
LOVED.

__________________________________________________

[January 2012]

One thing I noticed when I read this passage again was: this girl was good advertisement for the Gospel, wasn't she? She was calling out that Paul and Silas were bringing good news, that they were sent by God. So, why not use that gift? It struck me how Paul and Silas cast out the evil spirit even though it could have been useful to them. I wondered why. So I wrote this poem.

Picture by Pieter de With.

Parable of the Yeast: God is a Baker Woman

And again he said, "To what should I compare the kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened." (Luke 13:20-21)

God
is a baker-woman
elbow-deep in dough,
kneading, kneading,
making bread
preparing for a feast.
Taking flour,
adding yeast,
until the dough is leavened through,
working, working
patiently
till all is ready for her feast.

God,
you became bread
for us to feast upon,
for us to be fed,
strengthened, restored,
filled by you.
You became bread 
for us to devour,
consumed for our sakes,
fulfilling our needs,
our hunger for you.

God,
we are your bread
to be shared with this world.
You knead us, prepare us,
to feed hungry mouths
in need of you.
You spread your yeast
into each corner
that we may rise
and glorify you
at your feast
where all will be fed.

So let us feed on you
in thanksgiving
as you knead us
into your image.
Give us grace
to feed the world
as you fed us,
with these gifts
you gave to us -
Bread of Life.

______________________________________________________________________

[5. - 6. October 2014]

One could say this is the first time I have ever used feminine pronouns on God - I'm  not usually that kind of feminist, but since it suits the parable I hope no one's going to complain, since the image of the baker-woman was made up by Jesus, not me...

The topic of "bread" kind of stalked me all day yesterday, so I ended up writing this, bringing together different thoughts that had been impressed on me during the day...

1. In the morning, I read this month's "Word of Life" from the Focolare movement. The verse of the month happens to be all about bread! "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." (John 6:35) You can read Chiara Lubich's interpretation here, it really inspired me and flowed into this poem. God is bread - Jesus became bread for us, in multiple senses. He fulfills our deepest needs - and we remember Him through bread in Communion / Eucharist.
2. On the way to church in the evening, the words "God is a baker woman" sort of whacked into my brain and I started meditating on Lk 13:20-21 because I remembered that parable. It's one of a set of parables about what the "Kingdom of God" is like. The "feast" image slid into the poem because that is another image from another parable - sort of what the bread is being prepared for (the feast at the end of time).
3. The sermon in my church also ended up involving bread and communion imagery! One thing that stayed with me was sharing: that we are not meant to hoard what God gives us, but share it. And I really loved this image: when we break the bread for communion, one half represents what we receive - the other half what we share. We are meant to share. In a sense, we can become bread to share with others what Jesus shared with us. And that can mean suffering too: being "consumed" like Jesus was.
4. The "parable of the yeast" is basically about the influence of Jesus spreading through the world. In that sense, it's very much about sharing. What is the influence of Jesus, though? I believe it's becoming like Him, following Him, living like He did. But that means giving ourselves like He did, denying ourselves, being willing to be "consumed" by hungry people. Helping people in all their needs, be it literal hunger, or a hunger for love and acceptance, or another need. Bringing people the "Bread of Life", which is Jesus - but in a sense becoming bread too, by becoming like Him.

"Loving means 'making ourselves one' with everyone, making ourselves one in all the others want, in the least and most insignificant things and in those that perhaps might be of little interest to us but are important to them. [...] This is love, to make ourselves one in a way that makes others feel nourished by our love, comforted, uplifted, understood." (Chiara Lubich)

Picture by Jean-François Millet.

Naamah: A Name

"Zillah bore Tubal-cain, who made all kinds of bronze and iron tools. The sister of Tubal-cain was Naamah." (Genesis 4:22)

I am a name
without a story.

Because one day someone decided
a girl's story is not worth telling.
Because one day someone decided
a girl has no story
except that written by a man,
husband-father-son.
What is a girl alone,
but a burden,
cursed,
reminder of what
a woman once lost -
a woman with a story.
How can they risk
a woman having a story again?

They forget
that men's stories
bring hurt and damage too,
that we are all
equally responsible,
spiralling down together,
down
down
down.

But
Someone is reaching
into our stories,
reaching to catch us as we fall -
Someone who wants to be a part
of this sad, doomed, sordid tale,
who wants to risk
a story of His own.

I am a name
without a story -
but I have a name.
And He knows me,
and He calls me by name:
"Naamah."
They may deny me
the chance to share my tale -
but He won't let them hide
my name.

________________________________________________________________

[30. / 31. August 2014]

I tend to not write poems about the "story-less names" (otherwise I'd have to sift all the genealogies and make up hundreds of stories!). But my mother pointed out Naamah to me once and wanted me to write a poem for her too, so now I did...

I hope what I meant to say is visible between the lines... it's basically about inequality, more focus being put on men's stories, and women not really being mentioned much except in connection to "their men". The "woman with a story" is Eve: she lived free and equal and could make her own choices, but they led to destruction. Often when people think of "the Fall", they push blame on Eve, forgetting that Adam was there too and took the fruit as well, forgetting that all of us are responsible for our own sins. I can imagine men shortly after the Fall trying to deny responsibility, and pushing down women because if given freedom, wouldn't they just do damage again? But denying responsibility and blaming others, to the point of treating them as lesser beings, is not the way to go.

What's interesting about Naamah is that, unlike most other women who only appear by name in the Bible, she really appears only by name, and not in connection to any man (except for her brother). And now anyone who reads the Bible and does not skip the genealogies will read her name. (Probably not remember it, but still...) So even if people want to hem us in and make us small, we are still all equal before God: He knows us by name, He cares for each of us, no matter what society says.