Things seemed to have grown a bit quite in regards to all the sexual assault allegations and the MeToo movement. So the logically thing might be for me to do so as well. But I can't. As the news outlets and social media feeds moved on, consumed with the latest bit of kryptonite and/or drowning in the madness that can be the holiday season, I keep thinking about the MeToo movement, the solidarity I felt knowing I wasn't alone and that someone would believer me. I kept thinking about the many women who came forward to speak against the men who had assumed rights over other people's bodies, particularly women's bodies. I kept thinking about all the people (mostly men) who were upset that know they had to be conscious of respecting the bodies of the women in their lives. And I especially kept thinking of an article I had read in which the woman author argued the MeToo movement and the sharing and telling of stories was dangerous.
My mind was rather persistent in returning again and again to the concept of stories spoken out loud being dangerous.
I have heard an old, old story or two, of how a people were enslaved in Egypt. The story told me how the people cried out for deliverance and that God heard their cries. The story told me that a prophet and leader was chosen by God to lead the people out of Egypt. This prophet went to Pharaoh and told him to let the people go. The prophet told Pharaoh time and time again of the power of God and of what would happen to the Egyptian people. The Pharaoh did not believe their stories.
And yet, God still showed up. God freed the people with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.
A while later, the same people were in the wilderness, fleeing from Egypt. They were afraid, and bitter, and hungry. The prophet told them that God was with them, that God was leading them some where better, that they should not return to Egypt. The people didn't believe his words and his stories.
And yet, God still showed up. God came in a pillar of fire. God brought them water and manna and quail.
A little while later, a young shepherd boy armed with stones and a sling stood in front of a mighty and skilled warrior armed with a shield and a sword and a spear and armor. The large, mighty warrior laughed at and threatened the boy. The boy told the mighty warrior that his armor, his weapons, and his army were no match for the LORD God. The boy told the might warrior that the battle belonged to the LORD and that the mighty warrior and his army would fall. No one there believed this boy's words and stories, not his own army, or the mighty warrior, or the mighty warrior's army.
And yet, God still showed up. God smote the might warrior through the stone the boy slung.
Much later, another prophet named Amos went to the people of Israel. Amos told them they needed to change their ways. Amos told them God had said to stop exploiting the poor, and to take care of the foreigner, the widow, and the orphan. They did not believe his words or his stories.
And yet, God still showed up.
And after that time, as the people were separated from each other and from the homes, they thought that God had abandoned and forsaken them. Their Scriptures told them how much God loved them and was with them, but they did not believe it.
And yet, God still showed up, right where they were at and right where they didn't expect or believe God to show up.
Again and again, words and stories of God were spoken. Again and again, God still showed up regardless of whether or how much the people believed.
And now, standing in the wake of Christmas Day, still a bit damp from swimming in wrapping paper, cookies, shiny ornaments, and swarms of eager, last minute shoppers, the Christmas story is newly fresh in my mind. Looking at the manger, I cannot help but agree that the stories told by women can be dangerous.
You see, I heard a few more stories. A long, long time ago, in this very galaxy, in this very solar system, and on this very earth, a young woman was told she would give birth to a son. What made this particular instance peculiar was not simply that it was an angel telling her this and was not simply because this male baby would be the incarnation of God made flesh, but because this woman was a virgin who was engaged. Her body did not belong to herself. Her body had belonged to the patriarch of her family but was currently under the dominion of her soon-to-be husband.
At some point, Mary told her story to Joseph. She told him about the angel and the baby growing inside her belly. She told him about how she had consented to the Creator who had sovereignty over all the created order, including herself and including her womb. I'm not sure how exactly the conversation went, but what I do know was that Joseph didn't believe her. He was going to end the agreement for their relationship quietly, either to delay the punishment for her "unfaithfulness" which was death or to hide his own feelings and shame.
Even though Joseph didn't believe her story, God still showed up. God sent angels and God sent Jesus the Messiah, born in the flesh.
And a little later after that, after Jesus was crucified, dead, and buried, some women went to his tomb. To anoint and care for the dead body of the one they cared for. When they got there, the body was gone and two angels were telling the women that Jesus had risen from the dead. Mary Magdalene encountered a man in the garden and eventually saw it was Jesus the Messiah. She ran to tell the other disciples. She told them Jesus had risen from the dead. They didn't believe her. They ran to the tomb and found it empty as she and the other women had said, but they did not believe her story and her words that Jesus had risen from the dead.
And yet, God still showed up. Jesus appeared to them again and again for the next forty days until his ascension into heaven. Jesus touched them, talked with them, walked with them, and cooked food to eat with them.
Stories are powerful, and stories that are spoken out loud are even more so. I believe that because my entire Holy Book is based on stories that were spoken again and again, and those words changed people. Not because of the person who spoke them but because of the God who was revealed and made present within and through them. And while stories of the bodies of black and white women, Native American and Latinx women, old and young women, able and disabled women, may not be the same grade as Genesis or Amos or Luke, but these stories are still dangerous because God still show up and wreck havoc on our assumptions and our hearts of stone. Because God was present in these stories when people violated the sacredness of other persons' bodies, and even if you or I don't believe their stories God will show up.
