Alternatives to the Proverbs 31 Woman

Is that a spot for a floppy disk?

            I wrote this essay a long time ago; it was last saved to my computer on June 10, 2000. Not this computer, but several computers ago, years before I purchased my very own laptop. 

             Go ahead and read it. Maybe it will give you a chuckle before I add some serious thoughts I’ve had lately.

The Virtuous Woman vs. Me

            I have a problem with that Proverbs 31 woman—the one you’re always hearing about on Mother’s Day. What’s with that dame?

            She is worth more than rubies. Maybe we’re not all that different. I’m always telling my husband there’s not enough gold in the world—or  chocolate—to pay for what I do.

            She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. My hands were eager to sew matching dresses for my daughters. God sent me a houseful of sons instead. I patch jeans. Does that count?

            She is like the merchant ship, bringing her food from afar. I just stop at Weis Markets since it’s on the way home from work. I guess that’s okay, since all the merchant ships deliver there.

            She gets up while it is still dark and provides food for her family. I too get up while it’s still dark, but the boys are too grouchy to eat breakfast. “You never buy any good cereal. I’ll just get a donut during my second period study hall.”

            And portions for her servant girls. Hold on, honey! She has servant girls? No one gave me any servant girls! No wonder I can’t keep up.

            She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She’s into real estate. Wow. All of my money is tied up in precious metals—the braces on my son’s teeth.

            Her lamp does not go out at night. Neither do my washer and dryer. Not when someone remembers at 10:00 p.m. that his track uniform is dirty. 

I wish!

             She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. I don’t know if they’re poor or needy, but every day my home is filled with neighborhood children playing video games and munching snacks that the merchant ships brought from afar.

            When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. Of course she has no fear when it snows. She’s not the one surrounded by boys eagerly watching the school cancellations on TV. Their snow gear, not necessarily scarlet, is lying in soggy piles all over the kitchen floor.

            Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. Is that where he is? I’m keeping his supper warm in the oven.

            She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. I had a yard sale once.

            She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. My tongue, too, but nobody can hear me over the TV.

            Her children arise and call her blessed. I can hardly get mine to arise in time for the school bus.

            Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. The only reward I want is a few more hours of sleep. And maybe some chocolate.

            Okay, now it’s July 2016, and time for a few serious thoughts. In the five translations I checked, Proverbs 31:10 is phrased as a question. (In two of them, it’s phrased as a question asked by Yoda. Sorry. Even my serious thoughts won’t stay serious.) Feel free to check the other forty-nine versions available at www.biblegateway.com yourself. 

            My point is, it’s a rhetorical question. www.dictionary.com says a rhetorical question is “a question asked solely to produce an effect or to make an assertion and not to elicit a reply, as ‘What is so rare as a day in June?’.” As for the definition of rhetorical, the same website provides

“adjective

1. used for, belonging to, or concerned with mere style or effect.

2. marked by or tending to use exaggerated language or bombast.

3. of, relating to, or concerned with rhetoric, or the effective use of language. “

            Who can find the Proverbs 31 woman?

            No one.

            Because she doesn’t exist. She’s an idealized template of what King Lemuel’s mom (see Proverbs 31:1) wanted him to marry. She’s an idealized template from three thousand years ago. Yes, yes, don’t post angry, hateful comments; I agree there are principles here that can be extracted and applied.

             I’d just like to see Christian women stop beating themselves up over this one chapter.

            The Bible, a big book with lots of chapters, includes some alternatives to the Proverbs 31 template. Granted, most of the Bible’s heroes are men, but there are some heroic women in there, too.

            How about the Judges 4 woman, Deborah?

            How about the Ruth 1 – 4 woman, Ruth?

            How about the 1 Samuel 25 woman, Abigail?

            How about the 2 Kings 25 woman, Huldah?

            How about the Esther 1 – 10 woman, Esther?

            How about the Luke 1- 2 woman, Mary?

            How about the Acts 18 woman, Priscilla?

            I’m all fired up! How about I write about some of these women in upcoming blog posts? I think I will.

What I said at graduation…sort of

          Every year at graduation, the class adviser offers some thoughts on her time with her students. It was my turn this year. This is the transcript that I kinda, sorta followed. To protect their privacy, my students’ names have become initials.

          Pastor Jones, Mr. Wilhelm, school board members, faculty members, honored guests…let’s see, did I leave anyone out? Oh, yeah…Class of 2012, Daughters of the Seventh Millennium.

          It has been an honor to serve as the class adviser and homeroom teacher of these young women for the last four years. It has been an honor…and a headache. They have both disappointed and dazzled me. I have been both proud of them and peeved with them.

          They’ve caused me to lose my temper, but never my talent for alliteration.

          I guess what I’m trying to say is, they have become like daughters to me. They know things about me that my own family doesn’t know. They know my philosophy and worldview. They know I’m pro life, pro Israel, and pro vocabulary. They know that I believe following Jesus is no guarantee that you’ll be inright, outright, upright, downright happy all the time, but without Jesus I couldn’t get out of bed in this morning.

          Why do they know all this? Two words:  captive audience, just like all of you today. We’ve discussed many sensitive topics, and would have discussed more if my classroom had a door.

          These girls and I have shared many experiences and ideas. They got me to read Twilight and The Hunger Games, and I got them to read Tolstoy and drink tea while clenching a sugar cube in their teeth like Russians. We all became fans of Lois Lowry’s trilogy.

          J and E and I went to Bucknell University to hear the author of Infidel and Nomad, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a former Muslim with a price on her head. We combined that serious event with dinner at a diner where the really cute waiter worked.

          When we went to Camp Susque, I read bedtime stories to my daughters. When we went to Jamaica, my puppet Joey Manzoni stalked them and made rude remarks. At Christmas time, we feverishly decorated our room, and won the decorating contest four years in a row.

          I share a special bond with L because she and I are both founding members of the puppet team. We learned something new together and became internationally known puppeteers when we went to Jamaica. The other girls thought we were crazy…until they started doing the Ten Commandment Boogie.

          M and I share a love of writing and we both participated in National Novel Writing Month. Because she is a writer, M’s brain has formed strange pathways. Many of you know that my students draw pictures on their tests and quizzes for bonus points. When M was in Old Testament Tour 2, she drew pictures of the prophet Elijah battling the vampire Edward Cullen. She always used a red pen to add blood to the picture.

          I’m not worried about M’s love for Koreans, because the largest Presbyterian church in the world is in Seoul, South Korea. In Christ, there is neither American nor Korean. I think Paul said something like that.

          And then there’s E2, who joined our little family later. I am glad she did. She has blessed me with laughter and joy. And last year she hand-lettered all of our formal invitations in her beautiful handwriting. Wherever she is on November 20, I will come and protect her from the haters who participate in Kick a Ginger Day.

          These five girls are in my heart and I think I am in their hearts as well. When they leave, part of them will remain with me, and part of me will go with them. Not in a creepy, science fiction or new age religion kind of way, but in love.

          When the girls chose their class verse four years ago, they chose a verse that celebrated their all girl class. It comes at the end of Proverbs 31, a chapter that describes a talented, intelligent, creative, organized, strong, confident, compassionate women. Verse 10 asks the question, “Who can find a virtuous woman?” and the remainder of the chapter describes her.

          My friend Rosalee Richards got tired of being a lawyer and went to theological seminary and studied Hebrew and became a Hebrew professor. She told me something startling about the Hebrew adjective that KJV translates as virtuous, NASB translates as excellent, and NIV translates as noble. Rosalee told me that when the same Hebrew word is masculine, it translates as warrior.

          I like that. Who can find a warrior woman? One who will struggle to do what is right, to live with purpose, to care about others? One who will put on the armor of God and battle in prayer against the darkness?

          I think my daughters can become warrior women. I’ve been watching you for over 700 days, give or take some excused and unexcused absences, and I see in you the beginnings of warrior women. You are already strong from soccer and zumba.

          You will have to take responsibility for your own spiritual lives. There will be no more required chapels and homeroom devotions and Bible classes. You won’t be surrounded by friends and teachers who believe as you do. Count on being surrounded by people who believe what we studied in Cults and World Religions or who believe nothing.

          The NIV renders our verse, “Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting.” It would be pointless to admonish you not to be charming and beautiful. You can’t help it. Even in scripture, there’s a place for that. If Esther had not been charming and beautiful, she would have never become queen. But Esther had to decide whether to live off her charm and beauty or to become a warrior woman. Because she chose bravely, she saved God’s chosen people. She saved the messianic line. She made it possible for Jesus to come.

          Your choices may never be that monumental, but they will affect your little world negatively or positively. So choose to be the warrior, and if you mess up, don’t be afraid. Just get up tomorrow and choose again. 

          Remember you leave this place surrounded by the love and prayers of your teachers and indwelt by the Spirit of God.

Saved by the Belle

My weakness for fairy tales began early, probably because most bedtimes found me nestled beneath the covers, listening to my mom begin, “Once upon a time…” Since I have older siblings, it’s reasonable to assume I first heard these words while still in the womb.

If any book in the Bible reads like a fairy tale, it’s the book of Esther, featuring a powerful king, an orphan who became queen, a grand palace, fabulous wealth, and a happily-ever-after ending. But also like a fairy tale, Esther includes sinister and dangerous elements.

Once upon a time, between 483 and 473 B.C., King Ahasuerus—also called Xerxes—ruled Persia, and the Persian Empire controlled all the lands from India to Egypt. King Ahasuerus needed a new queen, having banished the last one for disobedience. Esther’s second chapter reads like a beauty pageant: Beautiful virgins, collected from Persia’s 127 provinces, traveled to the palace in Susa, where a year of pampering in a spa made them even lovelier and more refined.

One of these virgins was Esther, a Jewish orphan raised by her older cousin Mordecai. Their family has been in Persia for about one hundred years; in 586 B.C. the Babylonians had conquered Jerusalem and expelled the Jews. By Esther’s time, some Jews had returned to Jerusalem, but not Esther’s family. So when the virgins were recruited, probably not voluntarily, Esther—described as lovely in form and features—was recruited also.

Esther arrived in a situation not of her own choosing. She didn’t choose for her homeland to be defeated by a foreign enemy. She didn’t desire her grandparents or parents to be taken captive. She didn’t want to belong to a minority population in a foreign nation. She didn’t opt for her parents to die and leave her an orphan. She didn’t prefer to leave her guardian Mordecai and move into the king’s harem.

At first it sounds fabulous—twelve months of beauty treatments and sumptuous dining. Esther would then spend one night impressing the king, and the next morning enter a different section of the harem. She would change from a candidate into a concubine, never to see the king again, unless he requested her. She would never leave the harem. She could enjoy everything she desired materially, but never have a husband, children, or her own home. Like the other virgins, Esther faced a lifetime of incarceration in a posh prison.

Although Esther’s wedding night made her not a concubine, but the queen, her confinement became even more restrictive. She continued to hide her identity as a Jew in a palace of pagans. She used messengers to communicate with her cousin Mordecai, never speaking face-to-face. If asked, “Would you rather be Queen of Persia, or a wife and mother in a humble dwelling with a godly husband,” what would Esther have chosen? But she never had that choice.

Esther only chose how she would act in her unchosen circumstances. She always sought the wisdom of those who knew more than she, whether her cousin Mordecai, or the eunuch in charge of the harem. And now, as Queen of Persia, Esther had one big choice, the biggest of her life.

An evil and powerful man named Haman had duped King Ahasuerus into granting him authority to annihilate the Jewish population of every province in the Persian Empire. Now, Mordecai implored Esther to approach the king—an illegal action even for the queen—identify herself as a Jew, and plead for the lives of her people. How did Esther respond? Did she select Option A (continued safety in the luxurious palace prison) or Option B (the survival of an entire race of people)?

Leave Esther to her decision, and detour 800 miles west to a seemingly unrelated story. Led by Zerubbabel, some of the Jewish exiles had returned to Jerusalem in 538 B.C., about 45 years before Esther’s dilemma. Zerubabbel, who became the governor under Persian authority, may not have still been living when Esther confronted her agonizing choice, but his son or grandson would have been. Haman’s plan of genocide included all Jews in Persia’s 127 provinces from India to Egypt.

Including Jerusalem.

Including Zerubbabel’s offspring.

Esther chose Option B. She would approach the king, whatever the danger. She anointed that decision with a three-day fast by all the Jews in Susa. King Ahasuerus responded favorably, and the Jews were spared annihilation.

Including Jerusalem’s Jews.

Including Zerubbabel’s offspring.

Why is this noteworthy? Travel with me to another story, this time more than 500 years into Esther’s future. Two followers of a traveling rabbi, Jesus of Galilee, recorded his genealogy in the short biographies they wrote. In Matthew’s first chapter and Luke’s third, the name Zerubbabel appears in Jesus’ genealogy. What’s more, the two branches of Jesus’ lineage—one through David’s son Solomon and the other through David’s son Nathan—mysteriously converged in Zerubbabel, then divided again to lead to Joseph and Mary.

When Esther saved the Jewish people, she saved Zerubbabel's descendants 800 miles away. When she saved them, she saved the messianic line. When she saved the messianic line, she saved Jesus, born over 500 years later.

When she saved Jesus, she saved me.

Finding herself in an unchosen circumstance, Esther sought wisdom outside herself and clung to prayer. As children of God, let us imitate her. We have no idea how far reaching the results of our choices will be.