Women's Voices

Last fall women went invisible.

After months of harassment on Twitter and Facebook, a young woman from Maine created Pantsuit Nation, an invitation-only "secret" Facebook group where women could share their stories.

It wasn't the only such group, but quickly became the largest. It was launched just weeks before the election and grew to 4 million women, "a troll-free internet oasis for Clinton supporters."

Not just Clinton supporters found their way there. For many reasons, the campaign season was rough on women who dared to express themselves in public spaces. When a presidential candidate says on air what Donald Trump said about Megyn Kelley, it's no surprise that his followers outdid themselves in pouring obscene scorn on any woman who chose not affirm their Twitter-troll-in-chief.

Pantsuit Nation has had a bumpy ride: the founder declared the group couldn't be used for activism, banned anything but positive stories, then announced she'd signed a contract to use posts in a book by the same name. A huge defection prompted some review, but in the meantime new secret groups were launched. I'm part of several localized groups focused more exclusively on action.

In a way, the phenomenon of Pantsuit Nation reminds me of the way women of a certain age have often left the dinner table to go to talk in the kitchen over dishes. Shut out of the primary conversation, they continued their own, in a separate space, far from the interrupting, sometimes belittling voices of men.

Last fall women withdrew for good reason. 

Writer Bethany Mandel described her frightening experience after unwittingly awakening trolls:

 After the South Carolina primary, I made an offhand remark on Twitter about Trump’s legions of anti-Semitic fans. It wasn’t my first time commenting on this; I’ve even written about the phenomenon in these pages. But the response was unlike anything I’ve seen before on Twitter. I was called a “slimy Jewess” and told that I “deserve the oven.” Not only was the anti-Semitic deluge scary and graphic, it got personal. Trump fans began to “dox” me — a term for adversaries’ attempt to ferret out private or identifying information online with malicious intent. My conversion to Judaism was used as a weapon against me, and I received death threats in my private Facebook mailbox, prompting me to file a police report. 

Bethany Mandel's experience was not unique, as a Women's eNews article makes clear: 

When women make strong comments or venture into political waters they face threats. Harassment of female journalists online seems to be growing at an alarming rate; and it dovetails with new research about women and speech.

The Pew Research Center, which has been following online activity since 2000, found in 2014 that threats are directed far more at women than men. And in 2006, researchers from the University of Maryland created bogus online accounts and then sent them into chat rooms. Accounts with feminine usernames incurred an average of 100 sexually explicit or threatening messages a day. Masculine names received 3.7.

In the light of online abuse: 

Many women are simply going quiet, after being told that these threats are just from stupid trolls who are harmless. But women fear that someday, one of these trolls will climb out from under his bridge and actually make good on his threat.

In a way, threatening cyber behavior was mirrored in the televised interviews between Trump and Clinton. In the second interview in particular, set free from his podium, Trump prowled the stage, standing too close behind his opponent, grimacing over her shoulder, interrupting loudly and repeatedly: "No." "Wrong." "Wrong wrong wrong."

As a PBS headline observed: 

For many women, watching Trump interrupt Clinton 51 times was unnerving but familiar.

Tweeted Chicago-based writer Britt Julious: “Thoughts & prayers to every woman watching the #debates & getting painful flashbacks to dudes talking over them at work, school, home, etc.”

“The sad thing,” said Christina Emery, an author from Swansea, Illinois, “is that I’m so used to men interrupting women — especially when they want to change the subject — that I didn’t pay much attention to Trump’s behavior. . .

“Many women watching Trump’s treatment of Clinton feel a sickening sense of familiarity with patronizing behavior directed at them during every work day,” said Dr. Janet Scarborough Civitelli, a vocational psychologist in Austin, Texas. “Women become exhausted by the experience that no matter how much they accomplish or how hard they work, a man with a fraction of their knowledge and achievements stands ready to critique them.” 

For me, the great grief the morning after the election was the certainty that many had voted for Donald Trump not because of policy or position or reason or righteousness but because the sound of a strong, clear woman's voice is enough to make them angry.

Part of the emotional exhaustion, both before and since the election, has been tied to that certainty that no matter how hard a woman works, there will be attempts to undermine and silence her, not just by men, but by women who have believed the lie that power and authority belong only to men. 

For me, the Women's March on Washington was a healthy response to the months of going underground, of watching women reporters harassed, of choking on one more interruption.

Across the country, across the globe, women put words on poster board and traveled to sing, chant, laugh and cheer with busloads of other women.

Why march? 

To say what needs to be said:

We will not respect a man who can't respect women.

We will not be silenced or frightened into submission.

We will continue the work toward full representation.

Real power belongs to us all. 

We are all equal heirs in the kingdom of God. 

For me the marches were also a move to reclaim public space. Those women who went invisible joined others in planning, organizing and showing up to say this nation belongs to all of us, not just wealthy white men, not just those already in power. Women, girls, young, old, people of color, recent immigrants, those marginalized by gender or class, disability or background gathered to reclaim the public square.

At the end of the day, the many signs were left around the White House fence, a message for the man inside.

Will he listen?

Does it matter?

My prayer is that women will stay visible.

That our voices will stay strong.

That together we will insist on a world where every voice is heard. 

Defending the Indefensible

I've been struggling this week with a bad case of anger.

I’ve been taking deep breaths.

Sitting outside, staring at the sky.

Praying. Reading the psalms.

Reading and rereading the psalms.

I’m normally fairly good at deflecting anger.

Good at putting it in a cupboard somewhere in my mind and locking the door until I have time to process.

Good at turning the other cheek, smiling a little more brightly.

 

Shaking it off.

Letting it go.

This week?

Not so much.

Did I mention it was International Day of the Girl on Tuesday?

It was the day the UN invites us to think about girls around the globe. The hazards they face. The struggle to learn, to grow, to thrive, to live.

I was planning to post this week about abortion. Did you know that the leading cause of death for girls 15 to 19 – worldwide –is suicide?

Until 2015 the leading cause of death was pregnancy. That’s still the case in developing countries, but globally it’s tilted toward suicide.

There’s a sad story there.

A story about a world that sees girls’ bodies as objects to be used while stepping down hard on the dreams and sorrows inside.

Somehow the Day of the Girl and Michelle Obama’s celebration of the accompanying Let Girls Learn campaign were drowned out in the media storm surrounding Donald Trump’s odious tape.

And the attendant swirl of denouncement, defense, endorsement, unendorsement.

And the recurrent theme of women stepping forward to say things they'd said before but no one seemed to hear, or things they never said because they feared no one would listen.

I’m not surprised at all by Donald Trump.

Anyone who has spent a few honest hours trying to understand him should know that his character was formed by a father who trained him to “be a killer, be a king.” He spent his formative years in a military academy where he devoured Playboy and bragged about his conquests, then was mentored by Roy Cohn, a man who spent his career destroying the lives of friend and foe alike. 

Despite assertions that he's changed, converted, adopted Christian values, his rude remarks to others and boasts about his own wealth and power are consistent with troubling stories about him dating back decades. 

The Choice 2016: Frontline investigates what has
 shaped Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton 

Nothing Donald Trump does could surprise me.

What surprises me, angers me, grieves me to the core is the support and defense he continues to receive from people I have respected.

“It’s just words. He never did those things.”

“He’s apologized. Move on.”

“It’s just how men are. It’s no big deal.”

“Hillary’s no saint.”

You want to understand rape culture? There it is. Normalized, excused, condoned, deflected.

Maybe I spent too many years as a camp counselor, listening to girls share their grief and sorrow.

Or as a Girl Scout leader. 

Youth minister.

Or as a sister, neighbor, friend.

I have heard too many stories. Seen too much hurt.

Felt some of my own.

The teacher who focused sexual attention on a new senior girl every year and everyone knew and no one did a thing.

The boss who draped his arm around his girl cashiers, dangling his hand wherever it wanted to land, blowing cigar smoke in their faces.

The girls who lived in houses with men who stopped by their beds when the house was quiet.

The girl whose father and brothers touched and talked about her in public the way Trump touches and talks about Ivanka.

The women struggling to build careers in offices where the only avenue forward took a detour through the bedroom.

No big deal?

Everyone does it?

No.

Good men are appalled.

Decent men recoil.

I watched the debate Sunday evening and was struck, as were many, by the way Trump paced the stage while Hillary Clinton was talking. He threatened her with jail, interrupted her repeatedly and stood behind her, grimacing, while she spoke.

I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone as boastful as Trump.

Or as willing to lie about everyone and everything.

Or as deliberately, intentionally menacing.

His behavior – even on stage, even during a presidential debate – reminds me of all the times and ways girls I love, women I respect have been shut down, scared into silence.

Demeaned.

Dismissed.

Diminished.

For women and girls, it’s often lose-lose.

Speak in a soft voice when you’re trying to lead?

You clearly don’t have what it takes to be up front, to command attention, to be in charge.

Speak firmly and clearly in a no-nonsense voice?

You’re too masculine. Or too harsh. Too "strident." Have you ever heard a man called "strident"?

What if you disstance yourself from a husband who betrays and wounds you?

You clearly don’t respect marriage. You don’t understand forgiveness.

But if you defend and look for ways to preserve your marriage despite lies and infidelity?

You make yourself responsible for the very sins that harmed you. Tarred with the same fat, slimy brush.

As I said, I’ve been reading the Psalms.

The word that’s been speaking to me is “vile.”

On Tuesday, angry and grieving, I found myself in Psalm 12: 

Help, Lord, for no one is faithful anymore;those who are loyal have vanished from the human race.Everyone lies to their neighbor;they flatter with their lipsbut harbor deception in their hearts.. . . You, Lord, will keep the needy safeand will protect us forever from the wicked,who freely strut aboutwhen what is vile is honored by the human race. 

I’ve been troubled this week by the image of Trump, freely strutting about, rousing his followers to cheers and chants, bragging about assault then saying it’s all lies, honored and endorsed by those who should know better.

It’s alarming to see, still, men and women who claim to be followers of Christ trying to link their cause to that of Donald Trump.

Psalm 101:3 says: 

I will not look with approval on anything that is vile. I hate what faithless people do; I will have no part in it. 

Last week a group of evangelical leaders launched an open letter and petition making clear that they want no part in Trump or his campaign. It says, in part: 

Mr. Trump has fueled white American nationalism with xenophobic appeals and religious intolerance at the expense of gospel values, democratic principles, and important international relationships. He mocks women and the sanctity of marriage vows, disregards facts and the accountability to truth, and worships wealth and shameful materialism, while taking our weakening culture of civility to nearly unprecedented levels with continuing personal attacks on others, including attacking a federal judge based purely on his Mexican heritage, mocking a disabled reporter, and humiliating a beauty pageant winner for her weight and Latina ethnicity—to give just a few examples.

Because we believe that racial bigotry has been a cornerstone of this campaign, it is a foundational matter of the gospel for us in this election, and not just another issue. This is not just a social problem, but a fundamental wrong. Racism is America's original sin. Its brazen use to win elections threatens to reverse real progress on racial equity and set America back. 

Donald Trump's campaign is the most recent and extreme version of a history of racialized politics that has been pursued and about which white evangelicals, in particular, have been silent. The silence in previous times has set the environment for what we now see.

For this reason, we cannot ignore this bigotry, set it aside, just focus on other issues, or forget the things Mr. Trump has consistently said and done. No matter what other issues we also care about, we have to make it publicly clear that Mr. Trump’s racial and religious bigotry and treatment of women is morally unacceptable to us as evangelical Christians, as we attempt to model Jesus’ command to “love your neighbors as yourself.”

Whether we support Mr. Trump’s political opponent is not the question here. Hillary Clinton is both supported and distrusted by a variety of Christian voters. We, undersigned evangelicals, simply will not tolerate the racial, religious, and gender bigotry that Donald Trump has consistently and deliberately fueled, no matter how else we choose to vote or not to vote.

 A group of 700 evangelical women leaders signed their own short letter expressing concern:

As Christian women we are appalled by Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump's recorded remarks that disparage women and condone sexual assault. Such language cannot be dismissed as “locker room talk.” Mr. Trump must offer public contrition that fully acknowledges the seriousness and depravity of his actions. 

The sin of misogyny has caused many of us to experience sexual assault or sexually abusive language that threatened our safety, dignity and well-being. Christian leaders cannot condone such violent speech about women as a minor mistake or an innocent attempt to be “macho." 

Even now, there are still many who embarrass themselves and the name of Christ by defending the indefensible, still insisting that a man unable to keep a contract, respect an opponent or speak the truth would be a suitable leader.

I understand concerns about Hillary Clinton. I am not endorsing her or singing her praises.

I am also not claiming God has appointed her as savior of our nation. Not promoting prophecies that she’s our only hope. 

Any who make those claims for Donald Trump need to read through the many many Old Testament passages warning about false prophets, warning that God’s people delude themselves when they align themselves with political power then prophecy God’s approval. 

There are no sinless candidates in this election.

No pure party. 

No one free of baggage.

But that doesn’t excuse our inability to discern.

Or the tragic damage to the name of Christ when linked with Donald Trump's.

One more passage from my study of the word "vile", from Ezekiel 16:49-51. Make of it what you will:

Samaria did not commit half the sins you did. You have done more detestable things than they, and have made your sisters seem righteous by all these things you have done. Bear your disgrace, for you have furnished some justification for your sisters. Because your sins were more vile than theirs, they appear more righteous than you. So then, be ashamed and bear your disgrace, for you have made your sisters appear righteous.

This post is part of a continuing series on What's Your Platform 

Beyond the Party Platform July 24, 2016

A Different Way July 31, 2016 

Election Fraud and Rigged Elections, August 10, 2016 

How Long Will the Land Lie Parched? August 21, 2016 

Walls, Welcome, Mercy, Law August 28, 2016

Workers and Their Wages, Sep 3, 2016 

Educating Ourselves On Education, Sep 10, 2016 

Let's Talk, Sep 17, 2016

The Language of the Unheard, Sep 24, 2016

Maintain Justice, October 9, 2016

Life Lesson from Lydia

Father’s Day has come and gone, and I find myself thinking about the messages loving fathers give their daughters:

Be yourself.

Find your voice.

Use your gifts wisely.

I grew up without a father, and the messages I heard sounded a little different:

Be quiet.

Don’t ask questions.

Understand your place, and make sure you stay in it.

Those were supposedly messages from my loving heavenly father, carefully, consistently communicated by my church community.

This month’s Synchroblog topic is “What do you wish you knew 10 or 20 years ago? If you could go back 10 or 20 years and tell yourself one thing, what would it be?”

Voula Kalapoda of BiblicalTours.Gr in Philippi

What I wish I knew is that a loving parent celebrates each child’s uniqueness.

Longs to help gifts develop fully.

Looks for ways to see potential put to use.

In March my husband Whitney and I traveled in Northern Greece with our new friend and wonderful Biblical Tours guide, Voula Kalapoda. We spent time in Philippi, walked along the river where Lydia encountered the Apostle Paul, stood on the tile floor where historians believe the first house church met, traced the expansion of that house into an octagonal meeting place, then into a larger structure.

Somehow, I had not realized that Lydia was the first European convert, that the church in her home was the first Christian church in Europe. 

On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message. When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” And she persuaded us. (Acts:16:13-15)

Voula put that short passage into context for us, explaining that the Jews built their synagogues near water, but that no synagogue could be built if there weren’t at least ten men. So the fact that the women were gathered to pray by the river suggests there was no synagogue, no strong Jewish community.

Instead, there was a non-Jewish woman from Thyratira, in nearby Turkey, a woman active in trade, head of her own household.

Reading Luke’s simple account of the interaction, picturing the quiet scene by the rapid, narrow river, I think of how differently it might have gone:

Paul, seeing no men to interact with, could have walked off in search of a more fitting audience.

Krenides River outside the walls of Philippi

Or, after talking with the women, he might have insisted they go bring their husbands or male representatives to find out more.

He could have refused Lydia’s hospitality.

Moved on to the next city.

Note the hint of hesitation when Lydia invites them to her house: 

When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” And she persuaded us.

The word translated in the New International Version as “invited”, “parekalesenis,” in other places is rendered “begged”, "besought," "urged." Literally, it means, “exhorted," or "constrained,” far more assertive than a simple invitation.

And the word translated “persuaded,” the Greek “parebiasato,” means “to force contrary to (nature), i.e. compel (by entreaty) -- constrain.”

Luke’s account suggests that Paul’s first inclination would have been to say no to the idea of basing his ministry in Lydia’s home, but he heard and was moved by her energetic appeal.

The text says “we stayed several days” in Philippi. That stay included an overnight in prison, then a brief visit back to Lydia’s house: 

After Paul and Silas came out of the prison, they went to Lydia’s house, where they met with the brothers and sisters and encouraged them. Then they left. (Acts 16:40)

Apparently that young church was growing fast, if there were already brothers and sisters to encourage.

But I find myself wondering: how many other entreaties have been ignored, or dismissed, in other places, by leaders less willing to be constrained?

How many churches died before they started, because a woman’s gifts were overlooked, or a woman’s hospitality refused?

As a child, I worshiped in a denomination which allowed women missionaries to plant churches in Africa, but wouldn't let those same missionaries speak from the pulpit in their churches back home.

Possible site of the first church in Philippi; an octagonal church,
then larger temple, built over what may have been Lydia's home

As a young woman, I attended a retreat on the gifts of the spirit, and after faithfully filling out the simple survey I was given, was told I couldn’t possibly have the gifts my survey said I had: Leadership? Teaching? The seminarian summoned to set me straight assured me I had made a mistake.

There have been more times than I can count when I’ve seen women’s gifts offered, and rejected.

When my own gifts were discounted.

When I’ve felt called to step forward, and then told, firmly, to step back.

What’s lost when our energies are spent wrestling with the millennium-old questions:

Why would God give gifts he doesn’t want us to use?

Why would he call us to teach, lead, speak, when those who confidently assert his will are certain we should sit in silence?

Trace back through the history of the church and there are stories of women blazing like the stars of Philippians 2:15.

But how many more women hid their light under a bushel out of deference to the voices that said “go ahead and shine, but not here, not now, not this way, not that.”

How many have stuffed down the anger that grows, uninvited, when offerings are rejected, or second-guessed, when thoughts tentatively expressed are swept aside, or interrupted, when attempts to be obedient to the deepest inner callings are dismissed as misguided, inappropriate, rebellious.

And how many more have run from the church, the faith, from God himself, rather than listen to the endless, fruitless arguments about who is greater, who is less, who gets to lead, who has to follow.

What I’d like to say to my younger self, to my lovely, strong, spirited daughters, granddaughter, nieces, cousins, friends, is this: Be who God made you to be. In freedom. And with joy.

walls and steps of Philippi

But it’s not that easy.

So instead, I say this: learn early to hear and know God’s voice.

Spend time in his word, in prayer, in listening.

Pay attention to the spirit behind the voices you hear.

Learn to recognize pride, control, self-righteousness, envy.

Be led by mercy, grace, and love.

When the first answer is no, don’t be afraid to ask again.

Like Lydia, be ready to “urge, exhort, constrain.”

When someone steps on your toe, forgive and keep on walking.

When someone slams a door in your face, grieve, regroup, and look for another door.

Envision a church making full use of all its gifts, all its members, male and female, young and old, creatively, wisely, freely, with joy.

Don’t let anger, or grief, or fear shut you down, close you out, or cloud your mind.

Hold firm to the knowledge that you are a well-loved daughter, knit together with care for purposes far beyond those imagined by anyone eager to define you by what you’re not allowed to do.

 I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-19)

This is the fifth in a series, Texts in Context, revisting two formative weeks spent in Greece in March 2014. Earlier posts: 

Texts in Context: Yassas!

Mysteries

Proclaim Freedom 

Covering Shaven Heads

It's also part of the June Synchroblog, "If I Could Tell Myself One Thing." Other links are posted below:

• Justin Steckbauer – What Do You Wish You Knew 10 or 20 years ago?
• Michael Donahoe – What I Wish I had Known
• Mary – What I Wish I Would Have Known as a Newlywed
• Heather Wheat – As a Young Mother, I Wish I Had Known…
• Michelle – Ten Years of Wisdom
• Michelle – Twenty Years of Wisdom
• Wesley Rostoll – If I Could Speak to a Younger Version of Me
• Peggy – From Peggy … To Peggy
• Glenn Hager – The Reluctant Time Lord
• Edwin Adrich – A Note to My Younger Self
• Paul Metler – A Note to my 20 Year Ago Self
• Liz Dyer – Dear Me
• Kathy Escobar – Never Say Never
• Jeremy Myers – A Letter to the “Me” of 15 Years Ago
• Kimberly Klein – Be Free, Be You

As always, your thoughts and comments are welcome. Just click on   __comments below to see the comment option.