[Christmas 2] Jesus, Sophia Wisdom tenting among us

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The Word was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through the Word, and without the Word not one thing came into being. What has come into being in the Word was life, and the life was the light of all people.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. There was a person sent from God, whose name was John. John came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe. John was not the light, but John came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. This light was in the world, and the world came into being through this light; yet the world did not know the light. To its own home the light came, yet the people of the light did not accept it. But all who received the light, who believed in its name, were given power to become children of God, born not of natural descent, nor of urge of flesh nor of human will, but of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen the glory of the Word, the glory as of a parent's only child, full of grace and truth.

(John testified to this one and cried out, "This was the one of whom I said, 'The one who comes after me ranks ahead of me because that one was before me.' ") From the fullness of that one we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Child, who is close to the Parent's heart, who has made God known.

John 1:1-18 (NRSV, alt. -- with thanks to Cole)

Attentive folks may have noticed that since mid-October, the Scripture readings on Sunday mornings have contained distinctly less "he" language than they used. I'm really grateful to Molly for the opportunity to inclusify the texts, and I've endeavored to make minimal changes to the text -- only making the changes necessary to make the language flow without gendered referents.

Someone commented that stripping out the gendered language makes the texts feel "sterile." It's true that eliminating gendered referents removes some of the genuine richness of human experience. It also makes language awkward at times, as pronouns are a natural part of the English language -- but when I've been tempted to fall back on personal pronouns, my impulse has always been to use she/her or ze/hir (this last one is pronounced "here"), because it's important to me to open up space for people to find themselves reflected in the biblical texts.

In looking at the other texts for this Sunday, the second Sunday in Christmastide, I noticed that both of our alternative Old Testament readings (from books not considered canonical by our Protestant denomination, so don't fret if you've never heard of them) talk about Wisdom -- who gets "she" pronouns in the original (Sophia Wisdom, as in the Hagia Sophia).

Our first alternative reading is from "The Book of the All-Virtuous Wisdom of Joshua ben Sira, commonly called the Wisdom of Sirach or simply Sirach, and also known as The Book of Ecclesiasticus or Siracides or Ben Sira" (to quote Wikipedia):

Wisdom praises herself,
     and tells of her glory in the midst of her people.
In the assembly of the Most High she opens her mouth,
     and in the presence of his hosts she tells of her glory:
"I came forth from the mouth of the Most High,
     and covered the earth like a mist.
I dwelt in the highest heavens,
     and my throne was in a pillar of cloud.
Alone I compassed the vault of heaven
     and traversed the depths of the abyss.
Over waves of the sea, over all the earth,
     and over every people and nation I have held sway.
Among all these I sought a resting place;
     in whose territory should I abide?

"Then the Creator of all things gave me a command,
     and my Creator chose the place for my tent.
He said, 'Make your dwelling in Jacob,
     and in Israel receive your inheritance.'
Before the ages, in the beginning, he created me,
     and for all the ages I shall not cease to be.
In the holy tent I ministered before him,
     and so I was established in Zion.
Thus in the beloved city he gave me a resting place,
     and in Jerusalem was my domain.
I took root in an honored people,
     in the portion of the Lord, his heritage.

Sirach 24:1-12 (NRSV, unaltered)

Some of that Wisdom language sounds really similar to the text from John, huh?

In this passage from Sirach, Wisdom comes forth from the mouth of God, covers the earth, seeks a resting place there, and then pitches her tent -- taking root in an honored people. Sounds a lot like the opening of the first Genesis Creation narrative (which John is of course evoking -- "in the beginning..."), with God's Spirit brooding over the watery abyss -- followed by John's enfleshment of the Word.

Sirach's Wisdom says, "my Creator chose the place for my tent," and what's translated as "lived among us" in John could also be translated as "dwelt," "encamped," or "pitched tent among us" -- and "tent" can also mean "tabernacle" (the portable dwelling place of God amidst the ancient Israelites before they had a land of their own).

"I came forth from the mouth of the Most High" reminds me of what Rev. Jeff and other commentators have said about what "Logos" in John means.

Craig A. Satterlee on Working Preacher suggests that "speech" would be a more accurate translation of "logos" than "word," and that immediately had me thinking of the breath of God.

Satterlee talks about song and writes:

John says, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." I might say, "Though other voices strive to drown it out, God's Love Song is not silent."

Our second alternative reading is from "The Book of Wisdom, often referred to simply as Wisdom or the Book of the Wisdom of Solomon" (Wiki again):

A holy people and blameless race
    wisdom delivered from a nation of oppressors.
She entered the soul of a servant of the Lord,
    and withstood dread kings with wonders and signs.
She gave to holy people the reward of their labors;
    she guided them along a marvelous way,
    and became a shelter to them by day,
    and a starry flame through the night.
She brought them over the Red Sea,
    and led them through deep waters;
    but she drowned their enemies,
    and cast them up from the depth of the sea.
Therefore the righteous plundered the ungodly;
    they sang hymns, O Lord, to your holy name,
    and praised with one accord your defending hand;
    for wisdom opened the mouths of those who were mute,
    and made the tongues of infants speak clearly.

Wisdom of Solomon 10:15-21 (NRSV, unaltered)

In this passage from the Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom is strongly identified with God -- the actions attributed to her (e.g., bringing the Israelites over the Red Sea, guiding them by flame by night) are actions attributed to God in our standard tellings of the Exodus story.

And "entered the soul of a servant of the Lord," while not an orthodox understanding of the Trinitarian Incarnation, certainly echoes John's imagery of the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us.

Do you notice what happens there? This Sophia spirit -- she who covered the Earth like a mist, she who saved the Israelites -- she pitches her tent among humans. And going back to the story that John tells, it seems like the tent she pitches is named Jesus.

Commenting on the passage from John, David Lose on Working Preacher talks about those things which define us versus those things that merely describe us.

Yes, gendered pronouns describe people -- but do they define them?

Michelle Nijhuis wrote:

My 5-year-old insists that Bilbo Baggins is a girl.

The first time she made this claim, I protested. Part of the fun of reading to your kids, after all, is in sharing the stories you loved as a child. And in the story I knew, Bilbo was a boy. A boy hobbit. (Whatever that entails.)

But my daughter was determined. She liked the story pretty well so far, but Bilbo was definitely a girl. So would I please start reading the book the right way?

I hesitated. I imagined Tolkien spinning in his grave. I imagined mean letters from his testy estate. I imagined the story getting as lost in gender distinctions as dwarves in the Mirkwood.

Then I thought: What the hell, it's just a pronoun. My daughter wants Bilbo to be a girl, so a girl she will be.

And you know what? The switch was easy. Bilbo, it turns out, makes a terrific heroine. She's tough, resourceful, humble, funny, and uses her wits to make off with a spectacular piece of jewelry.

Yes, there are plenty of valuable things to say about how Jesus transgressed norms of masculinity, or about how Jesus' experience (and impact) would have been different if Jesus had been read by the culture as female -- but if you're not going to preach about those particular things, why can't Jesus have "she" pronouns?

So what if I take the NRSV text and use "she" pronouns for the Word? God the First Person of the Trinity can retain "he" pronouns, and John the Baptist can have "ze" pronouns (this maximizes clarity of pronoun referents, and also maximizes representation).

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. She was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through her, and without her not one thing came into being. What has come into being in her was life, and the life was the light of all people.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. There was a person sent from God, whose name was John. Ze came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through hir. Ze hirself was not the light, but ze came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. She was in the world, and the world came into being through her; yet the world did not know her. She came to what was her own, and her own people did not accept her. But to all who received her, who believed in her name, she gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen her glory, the glory as of a father's only daughter, full of grace and truth.

(John testified to her and cried out, "This was she of whom I said, 'She who comes after me ranks ahead of me because she was before me.' ") From her fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Daughter, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made God known.

For myself, I'm really struck by the "the glory as of a father's only daughter." What might it mean to women to hear that Jesus was Daddy's little girl? For women who have a positive relationship with their fathers, how might it open up their relationship to God to not only think of God as Father but to think of Jesus as God's Daughter?

Karyn Wiseman on Working Preacher says:

Dealing with embodied issues can often be problematic in our culture. Womens' and young girls' bodies are objectified on a daily basis. Vulnerable persons are abused and exploited physically and sexually. Men and boys are taught to be tough and that their physical strength is their greatest asset.

What might it mean for people to hear in church not just that God created humanity and called it good, but that when God said, "I think bodies are so good, I want one for myself," the body God chose for Godself was that of a woman?

What might it mean for women to hear that their bodies are valued, not just as vessels to bear the Divine like Mary's did, but to embody the Divine in themselves like Jesus did?

What might it mean for men to hear that women's bodies are so valued by God? Would that reduce, even by a little bit, men treating women like their bodies only exist to be used by others?

What might it mean for people whose gender identity doesn't match the one assigned them at birth to hear that God Incarnate might have had a complex gender identity?

William Loader talks at more length than I have about the threads of Wisdom narrative that seem to continue in the Jesus story, as well as how Jesus Jesusself draws on wisdom imagery (though I'm uncomfortable with Loader's closing assertion that all of Judaism ultimately points to and finds its fullness in Jesus).

Loader says, "The gospel writer has composed the overture to the gospel using the theme songs of wisdom. The effect is to assert and celebrate that Jesus is that word and wisdom of whom they sang."

What would it mean for us to take that seriously? Not that you need to start using "she" pronouns for Jesus, but to think about the Wisdom traditions and to think about them continuing in Jesus.

What does it add to your understanding of Jesus to read the texts Loader references and notice how steeped in those stories Jesus was, how some of them seem to come to life in new ways in the person and life of Jesus?

Loader says, "Already in Proverbs wise counsel is pictured as a woman appealing to young men on the streets. It is a striking image, forged as the opposite of the image of folly which is pictured as a street walking prostitute luring young men into her den. The language of the love affair features often in the imagery (eg. Sirach 51:13-22; Wisdom 6:12 – 8:21)."

Plenty of people have asserted that Jesus must have been very charismatic, but we probably imagine that in very different ways if Jesus is a woman. I'm really struck by the imagery of this seductiveness (honestly, I want my Jesus to be "a street walking prostitute luring young men into her den," but "virtuous" seductiveness is also really interesting). Y'all, in Wisdom 8:2, Solomon loves Wisdom, is enamored of her beauty, and wants to marry her. I'm really interested in this Jesus.

***

What does this story bring up for you, Beloved?

Do you want to talk more about the connections between Sophia Wisdom and Jesus Christ?

Would you rather delve more deeply into what it means that the light's own people did not receive it? Or how we are called to be like John the Baptist, pointing toward the light? Or something else altogether?

You're invited to continue the conversation in the comments -- responding to any of the questions I've asked throughout this blogpost or raising questions of your own, or simply sharing some thoughts. (As always, you're welcome to comment anonymously/pseudonymously if you prefer.)