when it matters because of two gardens (#femfest day two)
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St. Mary Magdalene
Today, we're speaking of why feminism matters to us. And I find myself here, thinking of this ...
I think of them, sometimes, in that first garden that He planted to the west of wherever Nod was someday to be built by the one who went out of the presence of the Lord.
I think of that man and that woman, father and mother to us all, and the abundance that was first communion, with trees that were told to bring forth and they brought, feeding two hearts woven as one flesh, in that first garden. In that place where there was only one No! and on it hinged the whole of us, and upon it was our unraveling, our undoing, and with it a cosmos wilted into itself. What were songs became groans and the toiling of its waiting, its expectation.
She brought the curse first.
He, his silence, he with her partook and so too condemned us all.
And He came walking, in the first garden, a whisper-shout, "Where are you?" And they hid. They covered their shame and fled Him, until the man pronounced the woman cause, and she the serpent, and maybe it was then, too, that the breaking of us all happened again.
Who knows the moment of sin but Him who first pronounced the No?
Unto the woman He said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.
I think of them, sometimes, in that first garden that He planted to the west of wherever Nod was someday to be built by the one who went out of the presence of the Lord. I think of how one little verse, one little verse of a curse in the third chapter of the oldest and truest myth, the story of us, could mean all this.
Could mean systemic patriarchy. Could mean that equality was no more. Could mean that the Law of Moses would have to make do in terms of rape. Could mean that a woman was not a person but a thing, property of father or husband, and that her word was worthless, her voice useless.
And you'll think of Deborah. Esther. Ruth.
And I'll blink a few tears back over the thought of them, because in all those pages of those old stories, these stories of us, you have named three.
Exceptions. Not rules. And this was the way of things for a time. For a long time.
And I think of them, sometimes, of that first man and that first woman, in that garden west of Nod, and I think of her as they were cast forth, running east of Eden, and I think of the tangled mess of sin tripping and dancing 'round them in their wake, their feet bringing the news of ruptured cosmos, ruptured creation, and she has done this, first, and he has followed her, and so comes the darkness.
So decays the garden of us all.
I think of them, sometimes, in that other garden, planted by men and God, to the west of wherever Golgotha was, where there had been One who went out of the presence of the Lord.
I think of that Man and that woman, Brother and sister to us all, and the abundance that was empty tomb, with limbs that were told to bring forth and they brought, feeding a people forevermore, after this other garden. In that place where there was only one No! and on it hinged the promise of us, and upon it was our reweaving, our doing, and with it a cosmos blossomed into itself. What were groans became songs and the wait became reception, fulfillment.
She preached the redemption first.
He, His command, He with her sped her on and so too proclaimed to us all.
And He came walking, in the other garden, a whisper-shout, "Why do you weep? Whom do you seek?" And she sought still. She uncovered her anguish and fled to Him, until the Man pronounced to the woman, "Mary," and she knew, and maybe it was then, too, that the redemption of us all happened again.
Who knows the moment of grace but Him who first pronounced the No?
Do not cling to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God.'
I think of them, sometimes, in that other garden, planted by men and God, to the west of wherever Golgotha was, where there had been One who went out of the presence of the Lord. I think of how one little verse, one little verse of a redemption in the twentieth chapter of the most beautiful Gospel, the story of us, could mean all this.
Could mean systemic patriarchy has been overthrown. Could mean that equality is now. Could mean that the Law of Moses would be overcome by the law of grace. Could mean that a woman is a person not a thing, joy of father or husband, and that her word is worth, her voice use.
And you'll think of Mama Mary. Lydia. Junia.
And I'll blink a few tears back over the thought of them, because in all those pages of those old stories, these stories of us, you have named three.
... and there are so many more.
And I think of them, sometimes, of that second Man and that other woman, in that garden west of Golgotha, and I think of her as she was sent forth, running east, and I think of the tangled mess of grace tripping and dancing round her in her wake, her feet bringing the news of healed cosmos, healed creation, and He has done this, first, and we shall follow, and so comes the Light.
So blossoms the garden of us all.
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This post is part of a series J.R. Goudeau, Danielle Vermeer, and I are thrilled to be hosting: a three-day synchroblog devoted to exploring feminism and its importance---and we're inviting you to join in!
You'll be able to hop between our three spaces this week to encounter different voices, perspectives, and stories. When you're tweeting, use the hashtag #femfest. We want to open a large conversation here and see what each of us has to offer and offer well.
Prompts and links:
- {Day 1} Feminism and Me: On Tuesday, February 26, link up at J.R. Goudeau's blog, loveiswhatyoudo.com, and write about these questions: What is your experience with feminism? What's a story or a memory or a person that you associate with that word? Why does it have negative or positive connotations for you? How do you define the term, either academically or personally? What writers have you read whose definitions you want to bring out? Or, if you don't have a definition, what are some big questions you have?
- {Day 2} Why It Matters: On Wednesday, February 27, link up at Danielle Vermeer's blog, fromtwotoone.com, and write about these questions: What is at stake in this discussion? Why is feminism important to you? Are you thinking about your children or your sisters or the people that have come before you? Or, why do you not like the term? What are you concerned we're not focusing on or we're losing sight of when we talk about feminism? Why do you feel passionately about this topic?
- {Day 3} What You Learned: On Thursday, February 28, link up at Preston Yancey's blog, seeprestonblog.com, and write about these questions: What surprised you this week? What did you take away from the discussion? What blog posts did you find particularly helpful? What questions do you still have?
