June 23, 2024 Reflection

Remember a few weeks ago when I said there are some stories in the Bible that we often don’t tell – and sometimes that seems like a good thing?!  Well today’s story is no different.  In this series that we began last week, Faces of our Faith, each week we will be exploring some of the characters that either we don’t hear about or that are misunderstood.  The kick off last week was with Adam and Eve and finding belonging and deep connection in each other. 

This week the story is about some special midwives, Shiphrah and Puah.  Pharaoh has a clever plan. He is threatened by the resilience and growth of the Hebrew tribe within his borders, so he enslaved and worked them ruthlessly to diminish them. In an attempt to obliterate the Hebrews, because they were still continuing to grow in numbers, becoming stronger in force and number than the Egyptians, he enlists these two midwives to pull a quick-handed maneuver by smothering any Hebrew baby boys seconds after birth so that their mothers will believe they are stillborn. The more this happens, the more the Hebrew people will believe that their fertility—their life-force—is diminished. Progeny was everything, for the ability to procreate determined the survival, legacy, and strength of a tribe. Pharaoh doesn’t just want them dead, he wants to eradicate their identity, their resilience. 

It is a midwife’s job to give life. Indeed, they literally carry out someone who was being born into the world. Now, what Shiphrah and Puah are being ordered to do is not just to ignore their job. Instead, Pharaoh asked them to do the opposite of what their job is supposed to do. Instead of giving life, they were tasked to take life. Pharaoh asked them to be complacent to enact a genocide that would forcefully reduce and oppress the growth of the Israelite civilization.

See what I mean – a “lovely” story. Why wouldn’t we want to tell it?!

But the redeeming part of this story – instead of following Pharaoh’s plan and his orders, these two gutsy women throw a wrench in his plans. Shiphrah and Puah are the only women in this story to be named, which we know is a rarity in scripture, so when it happens, it’s as if the author is flashing blinking lights on the page that say, “Pay attention to them!”

These midwives, these lowest-of-the-low-status-women who likely had no husbands (which at that time would give them status), who were simply glorified servants, who, themselves, may have been deemed infertile and therefore useless at that time to a family system, risk everything to say no.  What we see is the first known instance of civil disobedience in recorded history. They say no.

These two midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, defied Pharoah. They did what was right in their own eyes, and in God’s eyes, regardless of what Pharaoh had told them to do.

I think these midwives understood something about power that Pharoah, with all his authority, could not imagine. At the bottom of the social hierarchy, Shiphrah and Puah understood that real power does not come from being OVER someone or having control. Real power is found in life itself, which is a gift from God. Real power is found by preserving, protecting life, and by empowering others to labour, grow, and be resilient.

They went on with their work, welcoming babies into the world, empowering mothers, protecting life. Their labour as midwives empowered the Hebrew people to continue resisting Pharaoh’s oppression.

We have rules because they provide us with guidelines and help us uphold specific values. Just like God provides the Israelites with certain rules – like “You shall not murder” to provide a certain way of life together. Rules provide protection for the proper running of a peaceful and thriving society. Rules become laws – usually for the benefit of the greater good. But what if the rules make you complacent to do something that is against your values – or God’s values? What if the rules only oppress or persecute? What if the rules are being twisted so they fit into the grand scheme of power-hungry individuals?

Shiphrah and Puah are two faces of faith. These two women are two individuals that decided not to act, not to follow the rules that were placed upon them. Their decision is still an action. They purposefully decided to disengage from Pharaoh’s rules. Their decision was an act of choosing God and faith and preservation of life over the demands of society. In doing so, they saved lives. Their disobedience was an act of divine midwifery: It says in the scripture that they were fearful of God. 

When I was reading up on this – I read that when it says in the Hebrew scriptures that people feared God or were God-fearing people – there was no concept of religion, so when the scripture referred to someone as God-fearing, it is the equivalent to us now as saying faithful people.

Shiphrah and Puah, faithful to God, did not fear Pharaoh and thus helped prevent the inevitable extinction of the Israelite people – our ancestors in faith.

Similarly, people like Oskar Schindler in World War II and others who protected Jews during the time of the Holocaust.  Or people like Martin Luther King Junior.  I’m currently reading a novel about a North Carolina college woman participating in the SCOPE project, which was an actual project by the Southern Christian Leadership Conference in the 60s.  It was a voter registration civil rights initiative in the southern states. The project made such a difference, recruiting white college students to help prepare Black Americans for voting and to maintain pressure on Congress to pass what became the Voting Rights Act of 1965.  The book is fiction – but based on the reality of the time. 

I think about other individuals who have dedicated their life work to working for justice for groups of people.  I think about Greta Thunberg who brought climate activism to the general public’s awareness and concern a few years ago. 

And there are so many other people whose names we do not know who quietly disobeyed to do God’s work in the world. Yes, it is God’s work because such work, such courage, needs a deep faith that what one does ultimately will prevail over the good.

And on a more personal level, there are those people in our own lives that made such an impact that it changed our life trajectory or caused us to look at things in a different way.  For me one of those people was Willie Blackwater, a survivor of the Port Alberni residential school.  He spoke at a meeting of BC Conference of the United Church in the 1990s of his experience of physical, sexual and emotional abuse at the residential institution, how the way of this church-run school was to tear children from their families and culture and strip their heritage from them.  It was a horrific experience that he spoke of and not something I wanted to believe that that my beloved United Church could be capable of.  My experience of the United Church was one that had loved and nurtured and supported me throughout my life to that point.  But here we were, face to face with the reality of this destructive time in our church’s history.  Before that time, I did not know of this part of our history with Indigenous peoples, and it was not widely known in Canadian society either at the time. That started me on a path of learning and a commitment to participation in reconciliation.  But what happened next at that meeting is something I will always remember and a moment for me in the church that really cemented my loyalty and admiration for the United Church and its commitment to the way of God’s love and justice.   

The United Church in Port Alberni brought forward an apology, acknowledging the participation and complicity of the Church in the severe damage affecting generations of Indigenous people as a result of the Indian Residential Schools which were run jointly by the church and government.  The intention was that this apology would be adopted by the BC Conference gathering and then forwarded to the national United Church as well. 

At the BC Conference meeting, we were advised by legal counsel against particular wording and sections of the document as written because it would mean admitting fault, which could put the church at risk for future lawsuits.  There was a lot of discussion back and forth, and I remember when it was time to vote on the document.  In this room were the people who were most invested in the institution of the United Church – ministers and representatives from congregations, many whose livelihoods depended upon its survival – yet when it came time for the vote, it was an overwhelming majority who voted in favour of the apology document. 

I remember thinking at the time – if these people, who are so invested in the institution of the United Church are willing to risk that very institution for the sake of doing what is right and just, for the sake of greater love, then this church can no doubt survive anything.  It was that apology, that began right here in BC, that became the national apology, and while I wish we would never have participated in such a horrible system, to need the apology, the United Church has led the way in truth and reconciliation work – even paving the way for other churches and government to eventually issue similar apologies and expose the truth of their histories as well.  Willie Blackwater has no idea that he made such an impact on my life and way of thinking.

Sometimes though, the people who make a significant impact on our lives are not necessarily a household name.  Sometimes it is the friendly person at the grocery store who was kind to us when we really needed kindness, or that stranger on the street who flashed us a smile that turned our day around. 

Sometimes you are that person for someone else.  We may never know the impact that we have on those around us.  That phone call at just the right moment – the offer of a ride to church or lunch at the cafe, right when they needed it.  Or maybe it is speaking out when you hear inappropriate comments or unnecessary negativity when it is easier to stay silent.

Just like Shiphrah and Puah did not know that their actions (or non-action) would mean that Moses lived and went on to be one of the great ancestors of our faith, our actions – choosing the way of love and justice, can have impact far beyond our understanding.

Each week in this series we are offered a piece of artwork that accompanies the story.  Today’s painting of two hands was created by Lisle Gwynn Garrity for this series. Here is how this artist described the work of two midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, who stood up to the injustice of an oppressive regime:

“In this painting, these hands represent the women’s resistance. They are the hands that said “no” to a power-hungry ruler but “yes” to a God of justice—to a God who transforms a story of massacre into one of liberation. The impact of their actions, like the waters of the Nile, ripples out far beyond them.”

This week, may we be brave enough to face the Pharaohs within us and around us. Brave enough to say, “no, thank you, I don’t want your kind of power anymore”. May we be brave enough to say yes to actions that lead to growth and resilience for ourselves and others, and no to actions born of fear that lead to oppression, death, and destruction.

Being the face of God in the world sometimes means doing the quiet work of disobedience to guarantee that God’s work of love is being done in the world.

These courageous midwives remind us that true power lies not in domination or control, but in the preservation and nurturing of life. They teach us that even those who seem to hold little power in society can create ripples of change through their acts of defiance and faithfulness.

In our lives, we may not face a Pharaoh commanding us to commit atrocities, but we do encounter pressures to conform, to remain silent, or to act against our values. Just as Shiphrah and Puah chose to honour God and protect life, we too are called to make choices that reflect our faith and commitment to justice, compassion, and love.

As we leave here today, let us carry with us the inspiration of these midwives. May we recognize the moments when we are called to stand up against injustice, to support and uplift others, and to act in ways that honour the sacredness of life. Whether through grand gestures or small, quiet acts of kindness, each of us has the power to make a difference.

Remember, the impact of our actions can extend far beyond what we can see or imagine. By choosing the way of love and justice, we participate in God’s work in the world, becoming faces of faith that shine light into the darkness.

So, let us be brave, let us be faithful, and let us be instruments of God’s peace and justice. Amen.