All posts by melindacousins

Writing, Speaking, Podcasting and Lamenting … out loud

I called this blog Thinking Out Loud because that describes something I love to do – working out, wrestling with, and sharing my thinking externally. Writing is a helpful tool for this as it forces you to wrangle your ideas into some kind of structure and shape, that you hope will help spark ideas, resonances, and responses in those who read them. There is also some trepidation in putting your thoughts into ‘print’, as they can then be perceived as fixed and final, unable to be further nuanced or developed.

Podcasting is another great way of thinking out loud. I have a range of podcasts I’m loving listening to, hearing other people ponder and wonder, dialogue and debate, inform and imagine as they speak their words into being. (I need to update my top listening list soon). There is probably a greater sense of immediacy and connection with listening rather than just reading, which makes me want to think more about the engagement of our different senses in this context.

Many of the messages I preach are available as podcasts, and a friend and I have been imagining what a podcast we hosted could look like.

Last week I had the opportunity to be interviewed for a fairly new podcast, hosted by Andy and Mike, two guys serving as worship pastors in churches that are part of the movement in which I lead and serve.

Our topic was Lament, and in particular how the Psalms of Lament teach us and lead us in this practice as part of our worship. I really enjoyed sitting down and talking through some of what I have learned through my studies and teaching, preaching and practicing, of the Psalms.

The downside of talking over writing is that you don’t necessarily say everything you want to, and I did wonder if our tone was sometimes more upbeat than the topic might suggest, simply due to the enjoyment of having the conversation itself.

But having dialogue partners means you can bounce off one another in real time, which is great for both questions and tangents. Hopefully it leads to key ideas being both clarified and applied in helpful ways. I really enjoyed our conversation and it probably could have gone for a lot longer.

In many ways, learning to lament is itself a practice of thinking out loud.

The Psalms invite us to enter into their experience and relationship with God,  to experience their emotions and imagination and embodiment. I believe it is in enacting the Psalms, voicing their words as our own, that they form us.

The lament psalms in particular invite us to share our experiences of disorientation with God and with one another in the community of faith: asking questions in our doubt, weeping tears in our sadness, expressing anger at injustice, confessing our weaknesses and failings, standing in solidarity with the grief and brokenness of others. And doing all this in an attitude of prayer and worship.

I’m currently working on a few writing projects on the Psalms, but if you’d like to hear some of my thinking out loud specifically about Lament, you can listen to the podcast episode here: Captivate Podcast, Episode 8.

IWD and Proverbs 31: eshet chayil in 2019

Why do we have International Women’s Day? Why do we need it? For me, it’s about celebrating women and it’s about naming the inequality women experience. I do this not because I am a feminist, which I am, but because I am a follower of Jesus. Jesus calls women and men to follow him, and the biblical narrative invites us together to work towards the restoration and reconciliation of all things.

I love that I get the privilege of teaching and preaching the breadth of the Scriptures, which are full of invitations to both women and men to step into what God is doing. But recently I was asked to speak at a women’s event on one particular chapter of the Bible that I have been reluctant to focus on. Not because I have any problem with the text itself: I’m passionate about all of God’s Word and allowing each part of it and the whole of it to speak into our lives today in all its richness and nuance. But the way this particular passage has usually been used and interpreted in my experience has often created guilt, set an impossible standard, or limited the imagination of women and girls for God’s calling on their lives. (I also note that there is another chapter with a similar acrostic poem with male pronouns and verbs and yet I have never heard anyone talk about how to be a “good Psalm 112 man/husband.”)

I tried to say no to the invitation, and I let them know my reflections on the passage might not be the warm and fuzzy encouragement people could be expecting. But they still wanted me to speak, and so with some nervousness I did, confessing to the group that I probably wouldn’t have turned up to hear someone else speak on this particular passage. But it turned out to be a good challenge for me and from the feedback a good challenge for those present.

So, on this International Women’s Day, I thought I’d share some of my reflections on how Proverbs 31 might speak to women in 2019.

We need to start with the context of Scripture as a whole, this grand storyline of a God who created us male and female and invites us all to participate in his work, rest, and play. He has uniquely called and gifted each of us to be members of a wider community who together play our parts in his mission. In Proverbs 31 we get a picture of one faithful woman playing her part in her context.

We also need to consider the book of Proverbs as a whole. Using an apparently standard poetic technique of the time, early in the book both folly and wisdom are personified as women. After a middle section containing individual sayings applying wisdom to a multitude of everyday challenges and scenarios, both personal and public, the book ends with another picture of what wisdom looks like in practice, in the day to day, in the mundane and the routines of life. So whatever else this poem is about, it is about the practical living out of faith and knowledge of God in a real time and place.

The poem in Proverbs 31:10 starts with a statement of praise, in Hebrew eshet chayil. This has usually been translated as something like ‘wife of noble character’ or ‘woman of virtue’ as if it is setting a standard to live up to. A better translation would be ‘woman of strength’ or ‘woman of valour’ in keeping with how the word chayil is translated throughout the Old Testament in hundreds of other places, with only the references to women in Proverbs and Ruth treated this way. In Ruth 2:1 and 3:11 the KJV translates the exact same word as ‘valiant’ for Boaz and ‘virtuous’ for Ruth. While I would argue that both men and women are called to be both valiant and virtuous, it’s difficult to see how such a gendered translation decision can be justified. The NIV fares only slightly better with Boaz a ‘man of standing’ and Ruth a ‘woman of noble character’. Why not be consistent? If the author has deliberately chosen to echo our introduction of Boaz and his introduction to Ruth with the exact same word, why hide this resonance? It is worth noting how other assumptions might be at play.

In contrast to a standard or list of boxes to tick, eshet chayil seems instead to be a cry of honour, almost a championing cry. As Rachel Held Evans has suggested, perhaps it is even akin to ‘you go girl!’ This isn’t so much about what someone does but about the way they do it – with strength and power, in a way that inspires and receives affirmation from others.

It’s also important to note that this poem is about one specific woman, rather than every woman. It gives honour for what she has done. The Hebrew verbs throughout the poem are nearly all in the qal or perfect/completed tense, which is more commonly and appropriately translated as past. (e.g. ‘she bought a field’; ‘she provided for her family’). This helps us read the passage as a testament to a life well lived, rather than a generalised checklist for others to live up to. To me it finds an echo in Jesus’ affirmation of ‘well done, good and faithful servant.’ It reminds of a funeral I attended of a 100 year-old woman from my church who had been a doctor, a missionary, a mother, a leader, and so much more. Hearing about her life didn’t make me feel guilt or pressure to do exactly what she had done, but it certainly inspired me to follow her example of faithfulness and courage in all circumstances. How might this poem do the same?

It’s also worth noting the remarkable breadth of the woman in this poem’s skills and opportunities. She doesn’t neatly fit into our preconceived boxes of what a woman in an ancient patriarchal society might be expected to be and do. She enlarges our imagination of ways a woman in that context can live faithfully.

How does she inspire and challenge us in our context, with the breadth and depth of the challenges and opportunities we face?

First, I think we need to know who we are as women so that we can respond appropriately. We are created in the image of God, invited as full participants and co-creators in his worldmaking and restoration project. We each have a unique place within this, and we all bring a different lived experience from our brothers, who need us as much as we need them to together contribute to the full flourishing of community.

We also need to acknowledge the challenges that women face, both personal and societal, that can make that harder. This is where we need to stop trying to be warm and fuzzy and name some realities that make me furious, and I believe make God furious too. God is seeking to bring about the reconciliation of all things, and a significant barrier to that right now is what is happening all over the world to women and girls. I have to agree with President Jimmy Carter, who has named the mistreatment of women as the number one human rights issue in the world today and one Christians need to start talking more about.

Women make up the majority of the world’s poor. Women are exceedingly and disproportionately more likely to be bought and sold as slaves and to be refused education. Systematic rape is still being used as a weapon of war. 30% of women worldwide have experienced sexual or physical violence from an intimate partner. In Australia, at least one woman a week is killed by her current or former partner. In some countries, women are still being ostracised from their communities during their periods, leading to assaults and deaths such as that reported from Nepal just last month.

In our own culture, the majority of women experience sexual harassment as a fact of life, with recent movements such as #metoo and #yesallwomen attempting to name and challenge this reality. Women lack representation and role models at all levels of leadership. Our cultural storytelling still tends to trivialise, objectify and sexualise women … when they are visible at all.

The painful physical realities of many women’s lives – from miscarriage to endometriosis to infertility and so much more – have too often been clouded in shame, borne in silence, or dismissed as overreactions. Too many women feel pressured or limited, dismissed or overlooked. Too many girls feel that they are less valuable or less called than their brothers.

What does it look like to be esyet chayil, women of strength and might, as we find ourselves in this reality?

For me, it has to start with the challenge to step up and speak out. To not be willing to be boxed in to one thing.  We need to be seeking to respond to these realities in our own lives and in the wider world. To not succumb to the pressure as women to be in competition with one another, but to stand alongside and behind one another in all our diversity and differences.

We need to honour the women amongst us; those who lead and those who serve, those who have overcome obstacles and those who are breaking through barriers, those who are struggling just to get through the day and those who are striving against systemic injustice, those who have brought a smile to someone’s face and those who have changed the world. The daughters, the wives, the sisters, the mothers, the nieces and aunties, the friends and colleagues, the teachers, the students, the pastors, the pray-ers, the poets, and the preachers. Eshet chayil, every one of them.

The woman in the poem of Proverbs 31 isn’t a model for what every faithful woman should do with her life. That’s just not how the Bible works. But she is an encouragement to every woman, and every man, to wise and faithful living in whatever circumstance we find ourselves in. And she is a reminder to speak words of honour over the women of strength in our lives, today on International Women’s Day, and every day.

A Fringe review and some reflections

It’s Mad March in Adelaide again, which means the Festival, the Fringe Festival, Writers Week, the now oddly-cereal-like named Superloop 500, Womadelaide and much more. Living in the city is ideal at this time of year, and I’ve loved the opportunity to wander down to the riverbank to see the Symphony for our World (which was an outstandingly beautiful reflection on creation and creativity) and Yabarra: Gathering of Light (which is an engaging and vital project grounding the city in its long history and culture).

In terms of the Fringe, so far I have seen a truly terrible comedian (who I won’t name and shame here) and an absolutely enjoyable choir performance that I have not only been singing the songs from for days, but has also had me reflecting on some deeper themes it touched on.

So, this is my part review and part reflection on The Choir of Man.

Nine talented performers singing well known songs in impressive harmonies is always going to be a recipe for a good night out. The talent on display is pretty remarkable, including a piano virtuoso, a Dein Perry-esque tap dancer, a poet or three, comedic timing, audience participation, multiple instruments and dancing styles, all held together by nine strong voices. Songs covered include those that had the audience clapping and singing along, like Welcome to the Jungle, I Would Walk 500 MilesSome Nights, and the iconic Aussie favourite You’re the Voice; others that showcased impressive soloists telling stories through melody, like Adele’s Hello, Don Quixote’s The Impossible Dream, and Sia’s Chandelier; a heartrending rendition of Luther Vandross’ Dance With My Father during which you could have heard a pin drop; and an almost benedictory traditional closing song, The Parting Glass.

That this performance is set in a working bar, a classic English pub, where both the performers and the audience are invited to authentic fun and engagement (and to a pint or two) and is drawn together by a narrator who reflects on mateship, community, love and loss, adds to the enjoyment, but also leads me to my deeper musings.

“Some pubs have a football team or a darts club,” we are told. “This pub has a choir.”

The show is a bit of an ode to the local pub, the place where regulars can get together for a drink and share something of life. But we are also told it’s not a “boys don’t cry” kind of pub, and the idea of a community where genuine experience and emotion can be shared and supported – whether just by listening or by lending a hand – is significant throughout the storyline. To me, this is mateship. Friendship. What community should be. What for me as a Christian and a pastor, the church should be. My church is currently doing a sermon series exploring ideas of friendship and community, family, work, rest and play together, and so this show resonated with some of the same ideas, both encouraging and challenging me. Encouraging me that the church at its best has something valuable to say to our culture on this; challenging me that we can too often think we have a monopoly on it or hold it to ourselves, rather than championing it wherever we see it and inviting others into it.

This is also a show by, for, and about men. The (male) friend who recommended it to me warned that I might find it “a bit blokey.” And I did. But in a way that I loved. The characters in the pub are all pretty blokely blokes. (And yes, there is a song performed at a urinal). As a group, there’s a lot of testosterone on display. But there are men with hipster beards and man buns, as well as men with six pack muscles and classically strong jawlines. There are also men of less than average height and of over average weight. More importantly, these are not only men who sing and dance together, but men who are unafraid to both laugh and cry together. These are men who provide a glimpse into what male camaraderie and mateship can be.

And while there is some serenading of women in the audience and relationship woes played for laughs, at the end of the night I realised that they had managed to put on a public performance of broad-shouldered masculinity that didn’t need to objectify or degrade women to do so. (Unlike the aforementioned comedian, who the less said about the better). One review of The Choir of Man I read said this was a picture of the “opposite of toxic masculinity” and that’s not a bad description. In a cultural moment where there are certain voices criticising feminism for seeking to emasculate men, these guys affirm that it is a not an either/or proposition. They reminded me in some ways of my brothers and what I love about them. And in a week where unfortunately I had yet again had some (men) devalue what I do simply because of my gender, I needed to be reminded of that.

Of course, these brothers of mine, in my church family and community, go much further than a 90-minute performance. They don’t just meet the minimum standard of “not degrading women,” but champion and advocate for women, make space for us, support us and honour us, all without compromising their masculinity.  I value what they as men have to offer that I cannot, as they value what I as a woman bring. I love doing life alongside them.

As I watched this performance, in the back of my mind was the sermon I had been writing for Sunday. Perhaps that’s what put me in such a reflective mood. Talking about what ‘rest’ and ‘play’ look like for the church, I was challenged to consider how we encourage one another to explore and appreciate creativity in all its forms, and where we are talking about what we see and hear and experience in art, song, comedy, music, where it resonates with the creativity of our Creator, and how it keeps us hearing his calls to life in all its flourishing.

For me, the ongoing questions are how Jesus calls men and women to life together, and all of us to the expression of community, in ways that reflect and point to who He is and what He is bringing about.