February 13, 2015

piano prayers

piano prayers

I play the folks who come to mind
Their fears their pain their loss
I plead a jolt of joy amid the horror
To give them hope to make it to tomorrow

I ponder on the hate filled men of ISIS
And beg the Spirit to attack their swords with Love
A mystery of mercy to engage their minds
That one by one their hearts be struck with Wisdom

I wander through my thoughts of friends and all
And seek a blessing here a healing there
A word of comfort or of wisdom
A sense of the Divine Embrace hugging their souls

I tune my heart with trust
Sharpen my thanksgiving
Sing a note of praise
And rest in peace
-JoMae

January 29, 2015

Come To Me


"Come To Me"


Christ 
Living in me
Cradling my soul
Here when I'm needy
Here when I'm whole 

Ahead of me, guiding
Above, firm to protect
Around, a companion
Atoning neglect

                               -JoMae
                                    1/29/15
                    

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”  Matthew 11:28-29 

January 27, 2015

Hammock Prayers


Hammock Prayers

When illness or other trials come,
the prayers of God's people
form an invisible hammock
woven of air yet strong as steel

to gently rock a fearful heart.

A net to catch a worried spirit
and rest it in the loving hand of God.


-JoMae

A reflection of much pondering on prayer and the caring of friends and family during recent illness. All is well now, and we are most thankful.

January 05, 2015

Blind Spots and New Vision


Blind Spots and New Vision: Virginia Mollenkott’s   
The Divine Feminine

Click here to purchase this book on Amazon (a portion of the purchase price goes to EEWC-CFT).
The Divine Feminine: The Biblical Imagery of God as Female 

By Virginia Ramey Mollenkott

Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2014 (reprint of 1984 edition) 
Paperback, 120 pages 

Reviewed by JoMae Spoelhof 

Dr. Virginia Ramey Mollenkott’s book, The Divine Feminine: The Biblical Imagery of God as Female, has recently been reissued, and I am eager to recommend it. It beautifully illuminates the feminine images of God as portrayed in the Bible. First published in 1984, it remains a valuable tool for glimpsing a view of the Godhead that tends to be glossed over and invisible in traditional Christianity. As Mollenkott writes, “For those who accept trinitarianism, it will be striking that all three persons of the divine triad [the Creator God; the eternal Christ; and the Holy Spirit] are depicted in feminine as well as masculine images”(p. 4). 

The author guides the reader through familiar scripture passages, pointing out an underlying presence of God’s feminine face.  For people like me, raised in a deeply embedded patriarchal/hierarchal mindset, Virginia Mollenkott is a godsend.  She addresses the power of such patriarchal teaching, power to keep one from being able to see the feminine in God. She helped me grope through layers of my own blind spots to recognize that our Creator does not recoil from language referring to God’s womb or labor pains or countless other examples of identification as female, as I once believed. Our God loves us as Mother as well as Father. And Mollenkott doesn’t just tell us this, she shows us, carefully referencing each passage that points to this truth. 

Her book discusses numerous instances in the Bible where God is spoken of in feminine terms. She cites many references to God as giving birth, nursing an infant, and carrying out other maternal activities. Referring to Acts 17:28 (where Paul explains to the Athenians that God is not far from anyone for “it is in God that we live and move and exist” as God’s offspring), Mollenkott points out that “although the apostle does not specifically name the womb, at no other time in human experience do we exist within another person” than our time in our mother’s womb (p. 16).  Another motif the author examines is God as midwife, actively involved in delivering new life (chapter 6). And the whole of chapter 7 is devoted to teaching about the Shekinah, a grammatically feminine term referring to God’s glorious presence, as manifest in the tabernacle (and temple later on), and as the pillar of fire by night and pillar of cloud by day, guiding the Israelites out of slavery. 

Along with showing Christ’s affirming and empowering interactions with women, the book is full of both familiar and less familiar images unpacked to reveal fresh meaning, including Lady Wisdom, God as female homemaker, the bakerwoman God, and analogies from nature (mother eagle, mother bear protecting her cubs, mother pelican).  Mother Hen, for example, so familiar to Christians from Jesus’ desire to protect Jerusalem’s children “as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings” (Luke 13:34), is especially underscored. Through the highlighting of several Old Testament passages such as “I take shelter in the shadow of your wings” (Ps 57:1), we are reminded that Jesus’ words would have been very familiar to his Jewish listeners. Ruth and Boaz lived with that familiar image as well, and I was delighted to read of Ruth’s wonderful response to Boaz’s blessing, in which Boaz had praised Ruth for caring for her mother-in-law Naomi. “May the Lord recompense you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge” (Ruth 2:12).   Mollenkott writes, “Later, Ruth takes Boaz up on that blessing, urging him to “spread your wing [Kānāp, the same word used in 2:12] over your maidservant, for you are a redeemer” (p. 94). 

New to me was the prevalence of early church leaders who addressed and referred to both Creator God and Jesus Christ as Mother, embracing rather than avoiding feminine images and metaphors for God.  I’d heard some of this, but the names and quotes documented in this book surprised me, as did how long this practice  went on— beyond the early centuries of Christianity and well into the Middle Ages.  However, while these leaders spoke of God as both mother and father, they still considered female qualities to be inferior to the male. Writes Mollenkott, “But if we can teach ourselves to value the roles traditionally associated with the female on a truly equal level with those associated with the male, the result will be the enrichment of all humanity. Inclusive God-Language is a step in the direction of that enrichment” (p. 13, italics added). She then challenges religious leaders to recognize “the female presence in their grammatical choices” and to utilize “biblical references to God as female.” She sees this as a way for these leaders to “demonstrate the sincerity of their commitment to human justice, peace, and love, and therefore to psychological and social health” (pp. 13-14). 

Virginia Mollenkott later explains how we see what we expect to see in Scripture. 

“All of us approach any written text with
certain expectations and those expectations
govern what we are able to see in what we
are reading. Perhaps it is helpful to think in
terms of an interpretative grid, a grid that
gives clear focus on some things and blocks
   us from seeing others. 

   A patriarchal interpretative grid has simply
made it impossible for most people through
the ages to be able to perceive the many
images of God as female which are the
subject of this study.”   (pp. 64-65) 

She further reminds us that for those whose expectations have been blocked by language teaching the exclusive maleness of God, many layers of misinformation will need to be peeled away. Looking back, I can see how true this has been in my own life. When I first read The Divine Feminine several years ago, it addressed questions I barely knew to ask. It began to open a new understanding and to bring some clarity to my questions about God and gender. But moving beyond deeply instilled patriarchal teachings took a long time.  After living with these new ideas and letting them percolate, while gradually increasing my comfort level with loving God as both Mother and Father, I picked the book up again some years later. By then I was ready to take in more details, better understand my yearnings, and thereby gain the confidence to speak out. Each time I read, its message met me in a new place on my journey; and at each reading, more layers of patriarchal “blindness” fell away so that I could notice truths I hadn’t been ready to absorb before.  It takes a long time for old layers of thinking to fade away and a new reality to feel normal. 

Now, having read it a third time to prepare this review, even more has fallen into place. If you are grappling with lifelong patriarchal teachings about God and Christianity, pick up this gentle book!  It is packed with information that will help. It will enrich your life.  It has truly enriched mine. Through these pages, I see that my precious God and Savior not only is reflected in my father, but is also a God who “looks” like my mother —and me!  Both male and female are created in God’s image, an image that is both masculine and feminine. I’m so glad this book is available again to enlighten the lives of a new generation. 

------------- 
This review, first published by Christian Feminism Today in the Spring of 2014, can be found here. CFT is dedicated to sharing 'Equality and Inclusiveness Through God's Expansive Love'.

December 18, 2014

Kitchen Blessings


Tea For Two
 Kitchen Blessings

The kitchen is warm, the coffee hot
as I wrap my hands around my favorite mug
and ponder many blessings.

The world beyond the window where I sit
is a harsh cold whirl of snow.
But our fear is now behind us.

Spring is in view!
The darkness is over.
We have survived the night.

Soft music and the comforting
whir of the dishwasher
remind me of normal.

Soon our days will return to routine;
Once again draw to a close with tea for two
Around this old kitchen table.

                                JoMae
                                  12/14/14

 I pecked this out on my phone while enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon cup of coffee while John wrote Christmas cards.  His health is returning and this is probably the last Sunday we will be home together.  Our goal is to get back to church this week.  I thought of going alone this morning, but in a wonderful way, these hours together have become precious.  This new symbiotic pattern is becoming unnecessary and while that is a good thing, in a way it will be missed.  I  was not needed at home this morning.  He can manage on his own.  But I cherished the thought of one last quiet Sunday morning alone together. And stayed.

June 23, 2014

Harvesting Words

Harvesting Words

I scan the horizon for just the right words
words that speak eloquent meaning to me
words to examine and test for their flavor

words holding truth like a sweet pungent pear
words that will clarify difficult answers
words that are ripe and ready to pick
words that will satisfy

sometimes I find them in bits I have written
seeds I have planted myself

often they're sprouting in pages I'm reading
or pop out of a piece I am listening to - a
perfect expression for the question I'm asking


then I quickly reach out to snatch it and

 tuck it safely within a sentence that is
 desperately gasping for life.

JoMae
6/1/14

                                                                               

June 19, 2014

Lavender Lawn Poem:

Lavender Lawn  

The weeds are ruining our small city lawn
Which should be re-seeded one day.
But they're green!  I mean, from
My perch on the porch they look perfectly okay!

The real reason I want to keep our weeds,
The gift they bring to me,
Is the profusion of lavender spilt every Spring
When blooms begin to sing!

Each May, for a couple of weeks or so
We have an ethereal violet view.
A sight so soothing to my heart,
So treasured for memories evoked,
I always dread when it must go.

Today our lawn is lavender blue
Suspended on a field of green
With dandelion splash for accent -
A composition fit for a queen!

Our rabbit family comes to chew.
Squirrels chase each other's tails.
Birds hop around and poke and preen
While I sit up here enjoying the scene
As if I have nothing else to do.

Blessing it all is the tall lilac bush
Blushing full bloomed as she sways in the breeze
Bending and bowing her well ladened limbs
Wafting aroma of lavender green
All over my world.

I'm watching - yet seeing a photo I have
Tucked in my heart for fifty odd years -
Of the mom I once was in a soft purple dress,
Posed with my firstborn in Ellison Park
On a lawn drenched in lavender blue.

My First Mother's Day
May 1961 

-JoMae Spoelhof
 5/15/14                                                                      
                                                                               




I had purchased that simple cotton dress in my favorite color to send to John's mom for Mother's Day.  Somehow it never got sent.  One day he suggested I try it on.  It was a little snug, but I wore it anyway for our walk in the park.  I felt pretty that day and knew that I was loved - by the small boy in my arms as we sat among the violets - and the smiling young man behind the camera!

October 22, 2013

That Hard Goodbye

THAT HARD GOODBYE


I just read an article by a friend who reflects on many of the comments she and her husband encountered upon sharing their decision to adopt.  It brought to mind the comments we would hear as foster parents years ago.  A main one being: "I could never do that. I'd love the child too much to part with him/her."  On a bad day that would really hurt!  Did they think we loved the child any less than they would?  Of course they didn't.  Neither did they realize the implications of such comments. 

The pain at parting is deeply felt by foster parents.   Some goodbyes were bittersweet transitions to adoption,  some were worrisome returns to weak family situations. We knew from the outset that the day would come, but as long as we had those children we loved them as our own.  A mystery I guess.  We were a bridge of sorts.

Besides the everyday family routines, our kids vacationed with us.  Camping, visiting Grampa and Gramma, always with permission of course.  And if that permission was denied by the birth parent, we faced hard decisions.  One horrible moment stands out.  We were heading to Michigan to camp and enjoy a family reunion.  All of my siblings and lots of cousins would be there. Permission had been granted and the kids were all excited about the trip.  The camper was already behind the suburban and everyone was in the car waiting for me.  The phone rang. I wish I hadn't answered.  It was our five year old's social worker.  Em's Mom had changed her mind. 

I pleaded with her to no avail.  What should I do?  I felt like I was in a wrench with out options.  There was no way I could abruptly dump this child with strangers as we went on our merry way!  She was as excited as the rest to see the Grandparents and other relatives. It would be cruel to suddenly leave her here. We were already behind schedule with a long drive ahead of us.  I argued with the worker.  She was sorry but adamant that we wait until she could come by and pick Em up. She would arrange for a temporary foster placement for two weeks.   I stalled, grasping for ideas.  I prayed between the lines.  Finally the worker agreed to talk to the mother one more time and call me back.

I remember sitting on the stairway, head in my hands, pleading with God for guidance as I waited - and praying that Em's Mom would understand and allow her to come with us. Rarely have I wrestled with God so desperately.  I felt so trapped; could see no solution. Finally John came in to see what in the world was keeping me.  The kids were getting restless. Out poured the story along with helpless tears.  What should we do?  

Thankfully, in the end, prayers granted, we didn't have to make that impossible choice.  The worker called back to say she had been able to convince Mom to let Em vacation with us as planned on the condition that we stop first at a certain parking lot where she and Em's Mom would be waiting to say goodbye.  So off we went.  Trauma averted.  And soon we were on our way as if nothing had happened.  We had a wonderful time.  But to this day, almost forty years later, I cannot think of this incident without choking up.  This is the first time I've written it and it is written through tears. 

At ten years old, after almost seven years with our family, Em was adopted.  Some might wonder why we didn't adopt her.  That is a long story, but mainly it is that when you set out to adopt, I think you take a different path.  We had five children of our own by the time Em was freed for adoption.  We never went into foster care with the goal of adoption.  Our calling was to help in the transition.  After her placement we continued to care for other kids.  Continued to love, then say goodbye.  If they were infants we never saw them again. Some of the older ones still keep in touch.  We loved them all.  But not too much to part with them when the time came to say that hard goodbye.

JoMae Spoelhof
10/22/13
--------
This piece was prompted by today's post by Susan Gilbert-Collins:  Comments We’ve Had On Adoption - October 22, 2013
 http://susangilbertcollins.wordpress.com/

 

January 31, 2013

Secret Balcony


Secret Balcony

The kitchen chair that backs up to the garden window
becomes a winter sunset balcony for one when turned just so.
Here I sit, with my right elbow on the window sill
my left hand nestling a mug of tea
watching the sky put on her show

                                 -JoMae
                                  1/31/13

We have lived in this home almost 35 years.  In summer the sky is hidden with the abundance of trees in our small city yard.  In winter it is too cold to sit outdoors and watch the sun go down.  We take rides to see the sun set, and often wish we had more sky right here at home.  Few spots in this lovely old victorian home allow for sitting in a sunny window.  

Often I would adjust that kitchen chair to let me bask in the afternoon sun as it pours in for a short time on a bright afternoon, but somehow I'd never noticed that around 5pm on a January day the sunset greets me there with all its glory!  Pouring through the leafless tree branches,  what is hidden in the summer can be brilliant in the cold!  Etched with the fanfare of the branches, a brilliant sky soothes the closing of the day.  

And it was always there!  Makes me wonder what other wonders I have missed along the way.  Makes me determined to catch more kitchen sunsets this winter.  

October 31, 2012

Inclusion - Gender Equality and God

 GENDER EQUALITY AND GOD

The letter came in the mid 1970s and sounded dangerously feminist to me. It was an invitation that would eventually lead to a paradigm shift in my life. But that came later. At the moment my days were full and I was content. Raising five of our own plus assorted foster children left little time or inclination to question the values I was passing on. Values deeply rooted in my childhood and the teachings of my Christian faith. I loved my family and clearly was loved in return—first as a daughter, then as wife and mother. My friends from church would chuckle that I was spoiled rotten!

My love affair with my Heavenly Father was steeped in awe and trepidation. The concept of a Mother God did not exist. I’d never noticed that Christians were a motherless family and it would be many years before I saw a link between this view of God and traditional attitudes toward women.

I sometimes chafed that men held all the power, or hurt for women whose husbands might belittle them; still, life was good. I might not like it that the female was designed to be lesser, but who was I to question God? It hadn’t yet occurred to me that God’s designs were understood through male interpretation and translation. Through givens born of ancient norms.

In 1959 I had gladly given up my identity to become Mrs. John Spoelhof. Later it was “The John Spoelhof family.” Somewhere, hidden with the children under the veil of John’s name, stood JoMae Keuning. There came a point when I began to feel constricted and wanted to get out and grow up. Not out of marriage, but out of anonymity; into more autonomy for myself and women everywhere.

Yet when that letter came from a new movement in our denomination seeking gender equality within the church, I was afraid. It was an invitation to an annual conference on ordaining women. I recognized the justice, yet sensed that any interest would open a Pandora’s Box and change my life forever. So I tucked it away. I feared offending God.

A lifelong bookworm, I began to read more and more on the subject. Slowly the sentiments of feminism began to ring a bell. During the 1980s, I did start to crack open the box. I dug out the letter and attended conferences to study the issues and question traditional interpretations of the teachings in the Bible. In the King James Version of my youth I mainly saw myself referred to as a son of God. One day it struck me that if a “son,” I was a female son! What a difference that made! Meanwhile new translations changed the wording and confirmed my identity as a daughter on those pages.

I wondered, “If sons could mean sons and daughters; brothers, brothers and sisters, how long would it be before one could catch a glimpse of a Mother lost within the identity of our Heavenly Father?” I pondered such questions until after much reading and prayerful study, I learned to know God in a new way. I began to relate in a manner that recognized both the feminine and masculine face of God. If my sisters, mother and grandmothers—along with all God’s other daughters—were created in God’s image, there must be a feminine face to reflect, I reasoned.

I found it increasingly difficult to worship with only male leaders, with masculine language for humanity, and as if God were only male. I toyed with pronouns. Translated the hymns while singing. Until going to church became exhausting. I longed for childhood’s simple understanding of God. When God was my beloved Father; before I’d noticed there was no Mother. But you can’t go back.

Gradually our church did move forward. After a long and painful struggle in the ‘90s, it now ordains pastors and other leaders who are female. It has become more sensitive concerning language for humans. However, to this day, only masculine pronouns are used for God—albeit a bit less redundantly than in the past.

Today I still trust the God of my childhood and worship in the same church. The same faith—but with a fresh paradigm. The difference is a new understanding of who Godde is, and a new confidence in who I am. Godde is my complete Parent. My mind’s eye even sees this Mother/Father Godde spelled in the ancient English manner to de-emphasize the maleness.

Mine is an ongoing quest. It is very personal, admittedly imperfect and often lonely. But I believe there is a direct relationship between how we view, speak of and understand our Divine Parent, and how we view ourselves and each other. Language is that important. As long as Godde is known and worshiped as if only male; as long as the female reflection of Godde is absent, women will struggle against being treated and viewed as ‘lesser’; will struggle against feeling ‘lesser.’

-JoMae Spoelhof
   8/16/11

Written 8-16-11 and later featured on Jann Aldredge-Clanton's 'Changing Church' Blog:
http://jannaldredgeclanton.com/blog/?p=1382