By Janet Davis
Walk in: Losing Your Life by Letting Go of Silence
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried
but you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations–
though their melancholy
Was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save the only life you could save.
Mary Oliver, From Cries of the Spirit, Mary Sewell, ed.
Questions
Whose voices need to be left behind?
What has your silence cost you?
Is it late enough yet?
Center: Meeting the Holy One with Voice
A Litany of women’s voices
…I am Anna. I discerned the presence of great power in a common Jewish baby and gave utterance to God’s praise in the Temple.
Listen to me.
I am the Syro-Phoenician woman, whose love for my daughter drove me to Jesus. I compelled his respect with my frank and daring words.
O hear me.
I am woman without a name, yet my action of anointing Jesus spoke louder than words.
My story has been passed over in silence, though Jesus said it should be remembered
wherever the gospel is proclaimed.
Pay heed to the voice of my calling….
I am Magdalene. My only sin was sickness,
yet men have defiled my name.
I risked ridicule and relinquished the joy of discovering my beloved.
I left the garden to go and proclaim the good news.
O hear me.
I am Mary. I gave my yes to God fiercely, without reservation.
I have kept my many thoughts and secrets locked in the silence of my heart, pondering
(garden of Gethsemane)
them deeply, while men set me on a pedestal and gazed at me from afar.
Give ear to me now.
We are the women who refused to keep silent.
We are the ones who proclaimed our power.
We named ourselves, we shaped our times,
we spoke the words of life.
We are the spokeswomen for the many who kept silent,
who, through fear, ignorance or brutal oppression,
never found their voices.
We are the guardians of the tradition of women’s wisdom.
We are your mothers, your sisters, your friends.
Why, then, have you denied us?
Why have you refused our words?
Nicola Slee, Praying Like a Woman, p. 75, 76
Questions
What do you have to say?
What might you want to proclaim about God? Who needs to hear your voice?
Walk out: Saving Your Life Through Openness to Transformation
Passover Remembered
… Some of you will die in the desert,
for the way is longer than anyone imagined. Some of you will give birth.
Some will join other tribes along the way, and some will simply stop and create new families in a welcoming oasis.
Some of you will be so changed by weathers and wanderings
that even your closest friends
will have to learn your features
as though for the first time.
Some of you will not change at all.
Some will be abandoned
by your dearest loves
and misunderstood by those who have known you since birth and feel abandoned by you. …
Alla Renée Bozarth, From Womanpriest: A Personal Odyssey, revised edition, LuraMedia and Wisdom House 1988. All rights reserved.
Questions
What do you fear more: transformation or sameness?
Is the new life you are birthing your own?
Are there some who do not recognize you or abandon you or feel abandoned by you?
Are there people you fear will misunderstand your transformation or journey to voice?
(imagine how confused friends of caterpillars might feel when greeted by a butterfly!)