Monday, May 25, 2015

Saloon Girl or Buffalo Hunter?

"Saloon Girl or Buffalo Hunter?"
Acts 2:1-13

I have a book that is a fun satire to read.  The title of the book is Western Theology by Wes Seeliger.  The book is a satire about Christianity.  Seeliger makes the distinction between what he calls “settler Christianity” and “pioneer Christianity.”  Seeliger writes in the introduction:

The settler spirit is my picture of unfaith: the closed life.  The settler is the unadventuresome soul who dies by inches in his cast iron world.

The pioneer spirit is my picture of faith:  the open life.  The pioneer is the man who is totally alive.  He stakes his life on promises.  He is responsive to demands.  He is willing to pack up and take off for parts unknown.  He lives with the humility of a man constantly in danger, and the joy of a man who sleeps under the stars and sees a new horizon each morning.

Seeliger, for example, says in Settler theology, the church is like the courthouse where the doormat out front says, “Wipe Feet Before Entering.”  The courthouse, for the Settlers is a symbol of law and order, tradition and stability, but most important, security.

But in Pioneer theology the church is the covered wagon, with a sign on the side that says, “Renewal or Bust.”  The covered wagon is always on the move, is not comfortable or safe, and never hesitates to move into new and hostile territory.

So this is what Seeliger does in his book, marking the difference between what we believe in Christian theology in a creative and fresh way.

The part of this book that I’d like to highlight is how Seeliger describes who the Holy Spirit is in Settler theology vs. Pioneer theology.  Maybe his clever satire will help you understand just a little more about what we believe about the Holy Spirit, as we celebrate Pentecost this morning.

In Settler theology the Holy Spirit is Miss Dove, the Saloon Girl.  She runs the Olive Branch Saloon.  She could charm the bumps off a wart hog.  Her dancing costumes brighten drab Settler City.

The Olive Branch Saloon is right next door to the Sheriff’s office.  (In Settler Theology, Jesus is the sheriff who keeps law and order.  In Pioneer Theology, Jesus is the trail boss, who keeps everyone moving in the right direction.)  The Olive Branch is always dark inside.  Candlelight completes the warm, cozy, interior.

Miss Dove serves warm milk and the nonalcoholic kind of whiskey.  Folks love Miss Dove.  She has a good word for everyone.  She listens to tales of woe by the hour, but from her is never heard a discouraging word.  She tells folks to think positively, to look for the silver lining.

The Olive Branch is the settler’s favorite hangout.  They go there when life gets dull, or when they feel lonely.  Miss Dove tickles them under the chin and makes everything OK again.  That’s her job.  To comfort the settlers and help them forget their troubles.

Miss Dove gives a special performance each Sunday night.  How the settlers look forward to it!  With everyone seated, the saloon lights go down.  A hush falls over the audience.  Then the announcer, in his smooth voice says:  “And now, ladies and gentlemen, the Olive Branch proudly presents the nightingale of Settler City—Miss Dove, the comforter.

Miss Dove slowly lifts her eyes and begins her sweet song:

(Tune:  “Rock of Ages”)
Listen while I sing this tune
In the Olive Branch Saloon
With the candles burning low
I will peace of mind bestow
Put your trust in sweet Miss Dove
While you drink in all this love.

Raise your hands up in the air
Close your eyes and say a prayer
Let your worries fall away
Turn your dark night into day
Don’t be troubled or cast down
Trust the Sheriff of this town.

As the lights go up, there’s not a dry eye in the Olive Branch.  Each settler has received a blessing.  They walk home in silence.  The bright stars shine, each in its own place.  And the settlers’ hearts are strangely warmed by the thought that in the Mayor’s  scheme of things, law and order reign supreme.


In Pioneer Theology the Holy Spirit is the Buffalo Hunter.  The pioneers call him Wild Red.  “Wild” because no one can tell what he’ll do next. “Red” because he has flaming red hair.

Wild Red is awesome.  He’s huge.  The strongest guy around.  His old buffalo-hide clothes smell like the creature that last wore ‘em.  Red takes a bath in the creek at least once a month, whether he needs it or not.

There isn’t much he can’t do.  He can hit a spittoon at 20 paces.  He can shoot the eye out of the ace of spades.  He can break a buffalo without once dusting his pants.

Tough?  An eight-foot diamond-back once bit Old Red.  Nothing could be done to save the poor snake.  It died.  Red ate barbecued rattler that night.  The Buffalo Hunter is mighty wild, mighty tough.  Tame him?  Never!

Wild Red has a weird sense of humor.  He is always pulling something on somebody.  At night, when it’s quiet in camp and the pioneers are trying to sleep, Red creeps up and gives someone the hotfoot.  There’s no rest when he’s around.

The settlers live in mortal dread of Red.  Wild Red can’t resist shaking up the settlers.  Sometimes he sneaks up on them.  Other times he rides full speed ahead into town on his half-tame buffalo named Pentecost.  Red and Pentecost are quite a pair.  With Pentecost snortin’ and runnin’ full blast and Red hollerin’ like a madman, who can blame the settlers for being scared.

The Buffalo Hunter’s favorite prank is to sneak up on the settlers while they’re having an ice cream party.  Each Sunday morning at precisely 11 o’clock, the settlers have an ice cream party on the courthouse lawn.  Wild Red ties Pentecost out of sight, then sneaks up behind one of the oak trees.  When everyone is real quiet, thinking about the great ice cream party in the sky, Red fires a blast from his big, black buffalo gun.  The tremendous explosion shakes the courthouse.  The settlers jump out of their skin.  Women scream.  Dogs bark.  The Mayor (God in settler theology) is roused from his nap.

One day he almost went too far.  He rode old Pentecost right into the Olive Branch Saloon.  The poor settlers were scared silly.  Miss Dove was swinging from a chandelier, screaming for the Sheriff.  While Pentecost was turning over the tables, Wild Red blasted a few milk bottles and rode out, right through the plate glass window.  No one rightly knows where the Sheriff was during the commotion, but rumor has it he was hiding under his desk.

At night, Red likes to sit around singing in his deep voice and playing his squeeze box.  His song stirs the pioneers.

(Tune: “Onward Christian Soldiers”)
Back in Old Jerusalem
Lived a guy named Paul
Hog-tied like a dogie
To the Hebrew law,
Then a bolt from heaven
Came to set him right
Now he dines with Gentiles
Eatin’ pork on Friday night.

Refrain:  I’m the buffalo hunter
Riding through this land
With my big black shotgun
Firmly in my hand.

So come on you settlers
Pack up all your gear
Leave your stuffy city
Be a pioneer
Hear the Trail Boss calling
March at his command
New life can be yours if you will
Get up off your can.

Refrain:  I’m the buffalo hunter
Riding through this land
With my big black shotgun
Firmly in my hand.

As you ponder which of these two images of the Holy Spirit you like best (and there are many more images of the Holy Spirit in Scripture) it might do us well to look at at least one place in Scripture where the Holy Spirit is described.  I think it will help blend the two images from Seeliger’s book.

It is in Genesis, in the opening statements of the creation story, where it says, "God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss."  The Graber family has a brooding hen that just wants to sit on eggs.  They finally got a couple of fertile duck eggs for the hen to "brood" upon.  They recently hatched and the hen now has a couple of quacking ducks following her around.  The hen needed some prodigy to brood over, to protect and nurture.

So there is this brooding nature of the Holy Spirit described from the opening verses of the Bible.  John Calvin, in The Institutes of the Christian Religion, wrote, "...but that even before this beauty (of the world) existed the Spirit was at work cherishing the confused mass."  Calvin equates the Spirit's brooding nature with "cherishing"--even when the world was a "confused mass."

There are parts of Miss Dove and the Buffalo Hunter in this image for the Holy Spirit.  Certainly Miss Dove is the nurturing, cherishing aspect of the Holy Spirit.  And certainly the Buffalo Hunter is the brooding, protective aspect of the Holy Spirit, especially in a chaotic world.

When you are at your most confused, it's nice to know that the Holy Spirit of God is brooding over you, letting you know that no matter how much you become torn up inside, or your world gets turned upside down, you are cherished.

And also, when you have had your back pushed up against the wall, and the world is inching closer and closer with its hot stinking breath, that the protector--the Buffalo Hunter--side of the Holy Spirit is aroused to full height and stands between you and that wild world with His shotgun in hand.

Even though Seeliger, in his Western Theology book would have us decide between the Miss Dove side of the Holy Spirit, or the Buffalo Hunter side of the Holy Spirit, certainly the Spirit is large enough and complex enough to be both.  That’s what is great about the Holy Spirit—to be what we need, when we need it.

Monday, May 18, 2015

In The Dock

"In the Dock"
Matthew 28:16-20



One of the questions that needs to be answered at some point by a congregation (and by the church-at-large) is, "For whom does the church exist?"  The answer to that question will determine the basic character and thrust of any congregation.  If you say the church exists for the people in the church, your ministry will reflect that answer.  If your answer is the same as William Temple once wrote, "The church exists primarily for those who never go near it", that will shape a churches ministry as well.

Notice William Temple used the word, "primarily."  The church may exist, secondarily, for people who have already come near the church.  But primarily, Temple says, the church is for the unchurched, the non-believers.  To put it in traditional language, the church is primarily an evangelistic organization, an outreach tool for Christ.  The church is not primarily a Christian club.

Such are the questions the church must ask itself continually.  What is the church?  Just what is this thing we call the "church?"  What is, essentially, the church?  What are the core functions that make church church?

One of those core functions is the nasty "e" word:  evangelism.  I therefore agree with William Temple:  the church does exist primarily for those who never go near it.  The church must be, at its core, a group of people who have been told about Jesus Christ, have come to believe what they've been told, and then--in a determined way--turn around and tell someone else the Good News of the Gospel.  If we as believers aren't doing that, we aren't being the church.

Here's a modern parable.  It's called, "The Life Saving Station."
On a dangerous sea coast where shipwrecks often occur, there was a little life-saving station.  The building was just a hut.  There was only one boat.  The few devoted members kept a constant watch over the sea, and with no thought for themselves, went out day and night searching for the lost.  Over time, those saved gave of their time and money to support the life saving work.  New boats were bought.  The little life-saving station grew.
Some of the members of the life-saving station were a bit embarrassed that the building was so crude.  They enlarged the building, replaced the emergency cots with beds, and added nicer furniture.  It became a popular gathering place and it was used for a club.  Fewer and fewer missions were sent out.  The life-saving motif was at the center of the club's decorations; there was a symbolic life boat in the room where the club initiations were held.
At one of the club meetings, there was a split in the club membership.  Many of the members wanted to stop the life-saving activities as being unpleasant to the normal social life of the club.  Other members insisted life-saving was their primary purpose.  But those were voted down and told if they wanted to save lives in the shipwrecked waters, they could start their own life-saving station down the coast.  So they did.
As the years went by, the new station experienced the same changes that had occurred in the old.  It evolved into a club.  Then another life-saving station was founded.  History continued to repeat itself.  If you visit that sea coast today, you will find a number of exclusive clubs along the shore.  Shipwrecks are frequent in those waters, and most of the people drown.

That is a unsettling parable.  It calls me into question.  It calls you into question.  It challenges the way we have defined ourselves.  It challenges the way we have organized ourselves.  If the parable speaks truth, and we feel challenged, then it will also not deal kindly with our excuses and rationalizations for why we aren't being a people and a church who in no casual way, are life-savers, rescuing others with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

This parable, combined with the force of the two great commissions of Jesus to his followers (recorded in Matthew's Gospel and the book of Acts) puts us in the dock, so-to-speak.  It puts us, stodgy, non-evangelistic, non-inviting Presbyterians in the dock.

Do you know what a dock is?  It's not the place where you tie up a boat.  In the back of the courtroom, there were some jail cells where the accused are kept.  It isn't like our courtrooms, where the accused and their attorney sit up front.  It's a British-styled courtroom that has the cells--the docks--in the back of the courtroom.

So, there we are, in the back, in the dock, having to listen to the accusations.  And what, exactly, are the accusations?  They were read earlier.  They are in the form of a charge given to the disciples by Jesus:
Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.

But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the end of the earth.

In other words, be a life-saving station.  Take a risk to save those who are perishing.  Be a life saver.

As we look from the dock at the back of the courtroom, we wonder who is bring the accusations.  Is it God who is leading the prosecution?  Certainly God would know if we have been faithful in keeping to the task, of steadfastly following through on this essential core piece of what it means to be a Christian and a church.
Or is the world acting as our accuser?  Certainly the world would be one of the primary witnesses for the prosecution.  The world has cried out in its need.  The world even cries out its need when it is being most selfishly disobedient.  The church has, most of the time, not responded with the meat and potatoes of evangelism but with the pablum of watered down social programs; or nothing at all.

In a Doonesbury cartoon, (project cartoon) Pastor Scot of the Little Church of Walden is addressing the people.  He says, "Okay, flock.  I thought I'd run through this week's activities...This Monday, of course, we have a lecture on nutrition from Kate Moss' personal chef...Tuesday and Thursday will be our regular 12-Step nights..."
Someone asks, "Scot, would that be drugs or sex addiction?"
Pastor Scot replies, "Drugs.  Sex addiction we've cut down to nine steps.  That's on Friday at 6:30 p.m.--right after organic co-gardening...Also, a special treat--Saturday night will be aerobic male-bonding night!  So bring your sneakers!  Any questions?
Someone asks, "Yes, is there a church service?"
Pastor Scot says, "Cancelled.  There was a conflict with the self-esteem workshop."

There is a discomforting statistical analysis making the rounds amongst Presbyterian churches.  Most people already know that the Presbyterian denomination is losing members by the thousands each year.  When those lost members are interviewed, most say they aren't leaving the Presbyterian church to go to another church.  They are leaving and going nowhere.  The Presbyterian church counts for so little, people are leaving it for nothing.  There is a two-edged meaning to the statement:  "Nothing can take the place of the Presbyterian church!"

I don't know about you, but that disturbs me.  I hope it disturbs you.  People are quietly slipping out of the back doors of our churches and no one seems to care.  And then we are being so carefree about the front door work of evangelism.

We're in the dock, people.  We are the one's who are being talked about, accused and deliberated over, up there in the front of the courtroom.  Our effectiveness as evangelists, as keepers of both the front and the back doors of the church is on the block here.

The fault is not with the instructions, the commission we have been given by the Risen Christ.  Does anyone not understand what Christ meant when he said, "Go to all peoples everywhere and make them my disciples..."  Is that not clear enough?

Off the coast of Scotland is a little island where Christianity first landed and took root in that nation.  Tourists and pilgrims who want to make the trip have to go to a shop where you can secure transportation to and from the island.  Over the door of the building is the sign, "Visit the holy isle."  Then, underneath are the words, "We can get you there."

Every Christian, whether they realize it or not, has a sign around their neck that says, "Visit Jesus Christ."  But are there the other words underneath those words that read, "I can get you there"?  Do you know how to get a person from out there to in here?

We are in the dock.  Evangelism is what the trial is all about.  Fortunately, all the evidence isn't in yet.  We can still effect the outcome.  Are we the church or are we not?  Are we taking care of the primary function of the church or are we not?  Are we fulfilling the commission of our Lord or are we not?

The great preacher Charles Spurgeon was asked, "Do you believe that those who have never heard the gospel are really saved?"
Spurgeon then replied with his own question, "Do you believe those who have heard the gospel and never shared it are really saved?"

Are we generating fellow believers or are we just generating excuses?  What will the outcome of this trial be?  What will the verdict be:  life-saving station or clubhouse?


Monday, May 11, 2015

The Kinds Of Women I Admire

"The Kinds of Women I Admire"
Proverbs 31:1-21


(Show copies of women's magazine covers and point out article titles having to do with the roles of women.)


The late Erma Bombeck wrote in her book, Aunt Erma's Cope Book,
I did as I was told.  I was fussy about my peanut butter, fought cavities, became depressed over yellow wax buildup ... I was responsible for my husband's underarms being protected for twelve hours.  I was responsible for making sure my children had a well-balanced breakfast.  I alone was carrying the burden for my dog's shiny coat ... We believed if we converted to all the products that marched before our eyes we could be the best, the sexiest, the freshest, the cleanest, the thinnest, the smartest and the first on our block to be regular.  Purchasing for the entire family was the most important thing I had to do.

There does seem to be a lot of expectations for how women ought to be.  (As there are for men.)  Most of those expectations, as Erma Bombeck has humorously pointed out, are generated by Madison Avenue advertising agencies and the products they hype.  These expectations become ingrained as if from on high and no serious reflection seems to be done about where they come from.

There are a lot of popular books out that are also trying to give women advice about how to become a real woman, an authentic woman, in today's world.  Women Who Run with Wolves was on the best seller list for over a year and a half.  It's a book that tells women who they are by looking at myths and folk tales.  Susan Fauldi's book, Backlash, and Gloria Steinam's book, Revolution from Within were back and forth number one and number two on the best seller list several years ago.  The theme of those two books was how women's self-esteem has taken a nose dive over the past 10-15 years and what needs to be done to reclaim that esteem.  Steinam's recent book, Moving Beyond Words traces the evolution of political power of women, and how women need to push that evolution further.

I highlight these magazine covers and books only to make the point that there is no lack of voices out there as to how women should be.  Women are constantly bombarded with messages about who they should be and how they should be it.  All this comes from the media, from husbands, from girlfriends, and even ministers.  My guess is, our time is probably the most confusing time to be a woman.  Now with at least two women running for the presidency of the United States, those messages will become tiresome in the next couple of years.

I hope to not add too much to that confusion this morning.  What I simply want to do is introduce you to three women that I admire, and the qualities I see in them that attract me to them.  I will say right away that these are all personal preferences and highly subjective choices.  They have nothing to do with what is the "best" whatever that is.  Another person would choose other women with equally admirable qualities.

So with that disclaimer, allow me to introduce to you three women I admire.

The first of these women is Naomi.  You can read about Naomi in the Biblical book of Ruth.  We don't get to find out much about Naomi, but what we do find out is poignant and powerful.  Hers is a sad story, really.

Because of a famine in Israel, Naomi's husband moved their little family (they had two boys) to Moab.  While they were in Moab, Naomi's husband died.  Her two sons grew up and married women from Moab.  10 years after their marriages, both the sons died.  Naomi is left without a husband and without sons.  She is left with two foreign daughters-in-law.

Naomi decided to move back to Israel in order to gain support from her family.  Orpah, one of the daughters-in-law, decided to stay in Moab.  But the other one, Ruth, begged Naomi to take her with her to Israel.

Naomi had every reason to leave Ruth behind.  Naomi had no wealth or means of support for herself, let alone for Ruth.  Being a widow was one of the lowest rungs on the social ladder.  All of Naomi's wealth and property would have reverted back to her dead husbands family.  She was left with nothing.  If Naomi couldn't find a benevolent relative to support her, she was doomed.  And Ruth with her if Ruth came to Israel with Naomi.

Secondly, Ruth was a foreigner.  A Moabite.  Being a widowed foreigner would have put her on a lower social rung than Naomi.

And, thirdly, Naomi had no more responsibility for Ruth.  Technically, Ruth was on her own and needed to fend for herself.  Naomi had no legal responsibility over her widowed daughter-in-law.  When Naomi's son, who married to Ruth, died, that severed all Naomi's responsibility.  So, for Naomi to take Ruth back to Israel would have been a tremendous financial and social burden and risk.

During an international chess competition many years ago, a man named Frank Marshall made what is often called the most beautiful move ever made on a chessboard.  In a crucial game in which he was evenly matched with a Russian master player, Marshall found his queen under serious attack.  There were several avenues of escape, and since the queen is the most important player, everyone assumed Marshall would observe convention and move his queen to safety.

Deep in thought, Marshall used all the time available to him to consider the board conditions.  He picked up his queen, paused, and placed it down on the most illogical square of all--a square from which the queen could be captured by any one of three hostile pieces.

Marshall had sacrificed his queen.  It was an unthinkable move, to be made only in the most desperate of circumstances.  The spectators were dismayed.

But slowly the Russian and the crowd realized that Marshall had actually made a brilliant move.  It was clear that no matter how the queen would be taken, his opponent would be in a losing position.  Seeing the inevitable defeat, the Russian conceded the game.

That's what Naomi did in her intriguing move against all social conventionality taking Ruth with her.  Naomi sacrificed what little social standing she had to embrace Ruth as her daughter.  Naomi then went on to play matchmaker for Ruth.  She not only helped Ruth attract and become married to a man, but from that marriage came a great grandson named David, who would become the greatest king Israel ever knew.  It's a fairy tale come true for Ruth.  But none of it would have happened if it wasn't for Naomi, sacrificing the queen, so-to-speak.

That's why I so admire Naomi.  She's a risk taker.  She stuck her neck out so far for someone else when so much was stacked against them both.  She took a risk for someone who was not family--technically--and was not her tribe or nationality, and took her in.  Not only took her in, but set her up to succeed in a powerful way.  Naomi put herself in financial and social jeopardy for Ruth.  Even if she hadn't succeeded, I would still admire her for her attempt.


Now, let me introduce you to Deborah.  Deborah is also one of those women in the Bible we know very little about.  Her story can be found in the 4th and 5th chapters of the book of Judges.  Most of what we know about Deborah is found in two verses of chapter 4.
Deborah was a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth. She was judge over Israel at that time. She held court under Deborah’s Palm between Ramah and Bethel in the hills of Ephraim. The People of Israel went to her in matters of justice. (4,5)

Not very much, but the few words speak volumes.

Deborah was a judge and a prophet.  Let that sink in if you know anything about Old Testament Jewish culture.  Judges were exclusively men, and only but a small handful of women were prophets.

A judge was someone who was given authority by God and by people to administer justice.  The judges were the elders of the town who would serve at the gates of the town.  In order to be a judge the person had to be strong in the Lord and strong in themselves.  It was the link with God that was most strategic in being a judge.

In Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, the young murderer, Raskolnicov goes to Sonia.  She is a young saint who has sold herself into prostitution to keep her step-brothers and sisters from starving.  In his own despair and anguish about Sonia's situation, Raskolnicov questions her:
"So, you pray to God a great deal, Sonia?"
After a pause she whispers, "What should I be without God?"
"And what does God do for you?" Raskolnicov demands.
Sonia is silent for a long time, as though she cannot answer.  Tears fill her eyes.  "He does everything," she whispered quickly.

That is the kind of relationship with God that the judges of Israel had--one where they knew God was and does everything.

Also a judge had to be someone approachable--someone others are drawn to who know they'll be listened to and treated with respect.  Dr. David Schwartz, in his book, The Magic of Thinking Big, wrote, "Big people monopolize listening.  Small people monopolize the talking."  So a judge was a listener, and because they listened their judgments were fair.

Deborah was able to use her spiritual strength to arouse the unity of the people around their loyalty to God and against the threat of the Canaanites.  That is what people recognized the most in her and drew people to her (including myself).  God was with her in a powerful way.  It is for that reason I admire Deborah, and find myself drawn to women like her in whom I sense a deep spiritual quality and the powerful presence of God.


And lastly, there is Miriam.  She, like Deborah, was a prophet.  She was a sister to Moses and Aaron.  She was with Moses and Aaron as the Hebrew slaves made their exodus out of Egypt.  She saw Moses lead the people out of Egypt, into the wilderness, away from Egyptian taskmasters.  She saw the Red Sea pushed back by the hand of God and she like the other Hebrew people walked across on dry land.

Once across, Moses led the people in a song of triumph.  And then Miriam, caught up in the Spirit, took her tambourine and danced and sang and led a parade of women in celebration to God.

Because Miriam is described as a prophet, we are alerted to the fact that this was a sacred celebration.  Like King David's dancing processional before the Ark of the Covenant as it was led into Jerusalem.  Like King Saul, who after he was anointed King of Israel, got caught up in a similar ecstatic procession of dancing prophets.  Such dancing and singing and tambourine playing was considered a highly spiritual and sacred act of celebration.  Indeed, being a celebrative person in that way confirmed God's spiritual hold on you.

Gertrud Mueller Nelson wrote in her book, To Dance with God,
Some years ago, I spent an afternoon caught up in a piece of sewing I was doing.  The waste basket near my sewing machine was filled with scraps of fabric cut away from my project.  This basket of discards was a fascination to my daughter Annika, who, at the time, was not yet four years old.  She rooted through the scraps searching out the long bright strips, collected them to herself, and went off.  When I took a moment to check on her, I tracked her whereabouts to the back garden where I found her sitting in the grass with a long pole.  She was affixing the scraps to the top of the pole with great sticky wads of tape.  "I'm making a banner for a procession," she said.  "I need a procession so that God will come down and dance with us."  With that she solemnly lifted her banner to flutter in the wind and slowly she began to dance.
My three year old was not a particularly precocious toddler.  I think, rather, that she was doing what three year olds do when left to their natural and intuitive religious sense and I was simply fortunate to hear and see what she was about ... This little (child) allowed me to witness a holy moment and I learned all over again how strong and real is that sense of wonder that children have--how innate and easy their way with the sacred.  Here, religion was child's play.  And of course I had to wonder what happens in our development that as adults we become a serious folk...

I admire Miriam for her free celebration of the goodness of God and the goodness of life.  I admire Miriam for her childlike sensitivity to what pure and true worship is:  a celebration--a hand clapping, tambourine banging, parading celebration.  I admire Miriam for not holding back, for not being so serious and stodgy, for not being glued to the pew, for not being so narrow, for allowing herself to be caught up in the wonder and celebration of a saving God.  Miriam knows how to celebrate.  I admire women like her, who not only know how to celebrate, but are in themselves celebrative people.


There are many other women I admire.  They are there in the pages of the Bible and we know so little about them.  And there are others--women whom I know who aren't in the Bible, but ought to be.  If we were collecting stories to put in a sequel to the Bible, I know some women whose stories I'd include.  And may God rise up more women, throughout history to come, who evoke admiration from the people of their time.