Daughters of the Church: Women and ministry from New Testament times to the present

Daughters of the Church

Women and Ministry From New Testament Times to the Present

Ruth A. Tucker and Walter L. Liefeld

In memory of

Kimberly Sue Van Dyke

October 17, 1971-June 21, 1983

A true daughter of the church

whose brief life had already begun to radiate the beauty of Christian womanhood

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

PREFACE

Chapter 1 The Gospel and the World of Jesus: Wives and Mothers

Chapter 2 Acts and Epistles: Prophesying Daughters and Silenced Wives

Chapter 3 The Rise of the Church and the Downfall of Rome: Martyrs and Sex Objects

Chapter 4 Medieval Catholicism: Nuns, Heretics, and Mystics

Chapter 5 Reformation Protestantism: Daring Noblewomen and Godly Wives

Chapter 6 Post-Reformation Sectarianism: Visionaries and She-Preachers

Chapter 7 Trans-Atlantic Reform and Revivalism: Social Workers and Lay Evangelists

Chapter 8 Foreign Missions: Jungle Pioneers and Urban Church Planters

Chapter 9 The Non-Western Church: Lowly Bible Women and Renowned Educators

Chapter 10 Modern Pentecostalism and Denominationalism: Tent-toting Evangelists and Ordained Ministers

Chapter 11 The Contemporary Church Faces the Issues

CONCLUSION

APPENDIX A

APPENDIX B

APPENDIX C

NOTES

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Other Books by Ruth Tucker

Copyright

About the Publisher

Share Your Thoughts

PREFACE

Why a history of women in the church? Why not a history of men in the church? The vast majority of published church histories are histories of men. This was very apparent to us as we perused history books in our research. We considered ourselves fortunate when the index contained the subject women. How absurd it would have been, however, if the same index had listed the subject men, which in most cases would have included virtually the entire subject matter of the book.

In many instances the role of women in the church has not been as noteworthy as that of men. After all, it is mainly men who have preached, led church councils, and written theology. But frequently women have been overlooked even when they made outstanding contributions. As so frequently happens in the writing of history, writes Patricia Hill, the women have simply disappeared.¹ Their role in religion down through the ages has been flagrantly neglected. And it continues to be neglected, despite longstanding appeals to historians to do otherwise. Indeed, in 1922 Arthur Schlesinger, Sr., called on historians to discard their blatant sexism and take the role of women seriously—an appeal that has yet to be heeded by the vast majority of historians. Perhaps the consciousness-raising that has occurred in recent years will change that, and a book such as this will become obsolete. But until that happens, separate volumes on women in the church are the only means of telling their story.

This is not a feminist history of women—nor is it a traditionalist interpretation. Any history suffers when it develops out of a personal philosophy, be it feminist, Marxist, or liberationist. We have tenaciously striven to present an objective account, not only in our effort to represent the truth as accurately as possible but also in our effort to avoid the tendency to magnify our subject. This tendency is particularly acute when a subject has previously been denied a fair coverage.

Because of the varied interpretations of the biblical position of women in ministry—particularly as found in the statements of the apostle Paul—the evaluation of the role of women in ministry has varied considerably. One example is that of Catherine Booth, who was a cofounder of the Salvation Army. She wrote in her book Female Ministry: Or, Woman’s Right to Preach the Gospel:

Judging from the blessed results which have almost invariably followed the ministrations of women in the cause of Christ, we fear it will be found, in the great day of account, that a mistaken and unjustifiable application of the passage, Let your women keep silence in the Churches, has resulted in more loss to the Church, evil to the world, and dishonour to God, than any of the errors we have already referred to.²

On the opposite extreme was the evaluation of John R. Rice, fundamentalist radio preacher and evangelist, as he expressed it in his book Bobbed Hair, Bossy Wives, and Women Preachers: Feminism in the churches is a blight that has grieved God and made ineffectual His power and it has disillusioned the people and lost their confidence. I have no doubt that millions will go to Hell because of the unscriptural practice of women preachers.³

Another reason for studying the subject of women in the church is to discern the differences between men and women—particularly in their response to spiritual values. Although this volume does not approach the subject from a sociological or psychological perspective, it does seek to shed light on such issues. The question of whether or not women are more inclined to be emotional than men will be touched on, as will the fact that women constitute a higher percentage of church members than do men. Sociologist Peter Berger has attempted to explain this by suggesting that the impact of secularization has tended to be stronger on men than on women.⁴ Because men have traditionally been more involved in the workplace and the public arena than women have, they have been more quickly exposed to new ideas—especially secular thought. Women, on the other hand, who have traditionally been the keepers of the home, have had fewer challenges to their religious values and have had a greater concern to maintain the religious traditions that uphold domestic stability.

Certain questions repeatedly present themselves to anyone who surveys this history. What cultural factors influenced the role of women? How has biblical exegesis influenced that role? What restrictions and opposition did women face? How did women balance their dual responsibilities for ministry and family or how did they deal with singleness? Are there any discernible trends such as increasing restrictions, increasing opportunities, or growing acceptance followed by reaction?

Such questions reveal that our task is not only to inquire about the actual life and ministry of women in the church but also to observe how they were perceived by men throughout the course of church history. As such, this study is not only a history of women in the church, but also a history of changing perspectives about women.

Before definitive conclusions can be drawn regarding women in church history, much more study needs to be done, but even at this point there are many patterns and trends that have emerged. One obvious generalization that can be made is that women were very prominent in church history. The history of religion is probably the only field of history where women have had such an influential role—even though they were systematically denied positions of authority.

Another pattern indicated by our research suggests that women often had significant leadership positions during the initial pioneering and developmental stages of a movement, only to be replaced by men as the movement became more respectable. Although this trend has been particularly characteristic of the twentieth century, it was identified a century ago by Frances Willard. In her book Woman in the Pulpit, published in 1888, she said essentially the same thing: In the proportion that any church approaches the dimensions of a hierarchy, the admission of women to the priestly class becomes difficult.⁵

Still another discernible pattern is that throughout the history of the church different views on women have coexisted within the same culture or religion. It is incorrect to assume that leaders or representatives of a particular movement (e.g., the ancient Jewish rabbis) had a monolithic understanding of women. Likewise, we have found that women have been very active in a wide variety of ministries within the institutionalized church despite pronouncements and official decrees to the contrary.

There are many other generalizations that can be made about women in ministry. For example, a personal religious call (sometimes accompanied by visions or trances) has been an important factor in justifying ministry for women historically, as it has been for justifying the ministry of lay men who sought preaching roles in the church. It is also true that women appear to have been far more concerned with social needs and the unity of the believers than with doctrinal issues—particularly the nonessentials of the Christian creed. As such, we have found that they were often more eager to seek unity across denominational lines. Indeed, women have had a significant influence on ecumenical activities in the church.

We have challenged a number of popularly held assumptions regarding women in the church. The so-called liberal churches, for example, have not always been more open to the ministry of women, nor have the so-called conservative churches been consistently more closed to it.

Another myth that needs to be dispelled is that women are more easily deceived than men and are thus more often the founders of cults and authors of heresies. This view is not supported by historical fact. On the contrary, it appears that women have traditionally been slower than men to adopt unorthodox theology and to accept the kind of biblical criticism that undermines the faith.

Nor is the charge substantiated that it is because women are more emotionally inclined that they turn to sectarian ecstatic religion in larger numbers than men. Many of the leading charismatic visionaries throughout history have been men, and the evidence does not appear to indicate that all charismatic religious movements have had a larger percentage of women than noncharismatic mainline churches have had.

One of the most widely held views on women in the church—and particularly on those in leadership positions—is that they have manifested a feminist impulse. Both feminists and traditionalists have lent their support to this view. To the contrary, however, we have found that most women seemed very hesitant to challenge the rightful leadership of men. Rarely did they manifest purely feminist qualities; rather, they were cautious about seeking a place of prominence in the church. When they did strive for positions in ministry, their motivation appeared to be to serve more effectively.

The fact that this book has been coauthored by a man and a woman is, we believe, an asset. Approaching the subject from similar backgrounds but opposite perspectives has given us a fuller understanding of the role and ministry of women throughout church history. Our religious heritage has been largely in churches where women have not been allowed leadership positions. One of us grew up in Baptist churches with all-male leadership and has since ministered for some thirty years among the Plymouth Brethren, a group whose worship services are often distinguished by their veiled and silent women. The other’s early experience was in a male-dominated Christian and Missionary Alliance Church (founded by two women) and her later experience was as a pastor’s wife in two independent Fundamentalist Bible churches where women’s preaching was anathema.

The vast subject encompassing women in the history of Christianity would be impossible to cover fully in a single volume. The scope of the subject is virtually limitless, considering that it covers two millenniums, has a world-wide geographical breadth, is denominationally pluralistic, and has an endless cast of characters. In numbers, women have dominated the church, and the source material relating to their ministry and status is simply overwhelming. Therefore, any effort to summarize the story must be an exercise in careful selectivity.

Some women or events that have been been previously lost in obscurity will be featured, while others that have achieved a prominent place in the annals of history may appear to be short-changed. Countless others will not find a place at all in this volume; some of them may have made lasting contributions to the church, but, as is the case with many outstanding Christian men, they are not recognized or even mentioned in the annals of history.

What relevence does a history of women in the church have for the church of the late twentieth century? Above all else, it places the current trends of the church in historical perspective. This is crucial for a proper understanding of the church today. Recently a colleague of ours commented that the efforts women are making to enter the pastorate and obtain positions of church leadership are a direct result of the modern feminist movement and that such efforts are thus of the world, not of God. This is a widely held position in Evangelical churches today. While the feminist movement has had a significant impact on the more liberal churches that have in recent decades granted full equality to women in ministry, it has not necessarily been the motivating force behind the Evangelical women who have sought ordination and leadership positions. Women in Evangelical churches have a long heritage of seeking (and sometimes obtaining) meaningful positions in the church for the purpose of serving God more effectively.

Chapter 1

The Gospel and the World of Jesus: Wives and Mothers

Two contrasting figures appear at the opening of the Christian era: an old man and a young girl.¹ In separate narratives, Luke’s literary artistry draws attention first to one and then to the other.

He is Zechariah, resident of Jerusalem, the centuries-old religious center of Judaism. A priest whose knowledge of divine things has been seasoned with the years, Zechariah is astounded by an angel’s proclamation that he and Elizabeth would give birth to a son.

She is Mary, resident of Nazareth, a small village removed both in distance and in spirit from Jerusalem. A young teenager whose knowledge of God has been fostered by deep insight into the Scriptures, Mary is astounded by the angel’s greeting. Yet she listens intently to his annunciation that she, a virgin, would bear God’s Son.

Zechariah doubted,² but Mary believed.³ Perhaps the symbolism is unintentional on Luke’s part, but it is there nevertheless: the old era, long past with the close of the Old Testament, receives its final reprise with the incredulity of a man. The new era, about to be proclaimed in the gospel of Jesus Christ, begins with the faith of a woman.

Mary, the Mother of Jesus

*

It would be too much to say that ancient Near-Eastern patriarchalism, which embraced even the people of God, ended with Zechariah, or that Mary symbolized the new woman in ministry.⁴ The Old Testament did contain positive teachings and examples regarding women, and Mary and other women of her times would therefore have had outstanding models of faithful women of God.

Mary and Her Mother. Detail from The Virgin Mother and Child with St. Anne and John the Baptist by Leonardo Da Vinci (1452–1519). National Gallery, London.

Perhaps Mary’s poetic nature responded to the invitation of Miriam, Moses’ sister, to the Hebrew women to sing to the Lord in celebration of the Exodus from Egypt (Exod. 15:20–21). Miriam, described in that passage as a prophetess, appears in what seems to be a leadership role in Micah 6:4, where God says, I sent Moses to lead you, also Aaron and Miriam.

Deborah was likewise called a prophetess. Even before she led the Israelite troops to a significant victory and before Barak refused to assume leadership, Deborah was leading Israel (Judg. 4:4).

Another prophetess, Huldah, was chosen above her contemporaries Jeremiah and Zephaniah to declare God’s will for the people when the law was rediscovered in the temple (2 Kings 22:8–20; 2 Chron. 34:14–28).

Mary’s biblical models probably also included Esther, who risked her life for her people at a time when God seemed to be silent (the name of God does not even appear in the Book of Esther). King Xerxes’ favorite, Vashti, had been discharged because she would not let him use her by having her display her beauty in public. The king also decreed that all women in his realm should respect their husbands. He then found Esther, and she became Vashti’s successor. The narrative goes on to trace the various ways in which Esther skillfully used her official and personal relationships with the king to bring good both to her cousin and guardian, Mordecai, and to her people Israel.

Surely, as Mary listened to readings from Genesis, she reflected on the figure of Sarah, that good woman who was a victim of ancient Near Eastern customs, and on Ruth, celebrated for her devotion and faithfulness. There were dark figures of women in the Old Testatament as well. Their stories need not be recounted here, but even in the lives of some of them Mary could find encouraging evidence of the grace of God. One need think only of the prostitute Rahab, who chose to facilitate the invasion of Joshua and his forces against her own pagan city (Josh. 2:1–21; 6:22–25).

The noble wife of Proverbs 31 certainly was an exemplary figure for Mary. In addition to running the household and caring for her family, as one might have expected from a woman of her generation, she involved herself in various profitable commercial ventures. She had strength and dignity, spoke with wisdom, and gave faithful instruction (Prov. 31:25–26).

If there is any doubt about Mary’s acquaintance with the Old Testament, that should be dispelled by a study of her song, the Magnificat. It catches not only the spirit but also the vocabulary of Hannah’s prayer at the dedication of Samuel. The parallels are obvious as each of these women, though in very different circumstances, celebrated God’s gift of a son.

The intertestamental period must have had its heroes for Mary also—women as well as men. The towering figures of this era, especially the Maccabeans, who revolted against foreign pagan oppression, have become more honored with the passing of the years. But certainly in Mary’s time there were many traditions—some were factual, some legendary—about the brave people who resisted violence and moral evil. It would be surprising if Mary had not known of these. The story about the outstanding woman of the times, Judith, is an example. It features Judith as a beautiful and devout widow. When her city was under attack, she won her way into enemy headquarters and next to Holofernes, the leader. She killed him and brought his head back to her people. Would Mary not have learned stories like this—even those that were pious legends? Judith seems to be an expression of ideals drawn, at least in part, from the outstanding Old Testament women mentioned above, with additional dashes of heroics that remind us of such characters as the redoubtable Jael and the woman who dropped a millstone on the head of Abimelech in the rowdy days of the judges (Judg. 4:21; 9:52–53).

While the book of Judith specifically intends to show how God worked through weak vessels, nevertheless, Judith is portrayed as a woman of great strength. This applies also to her faith. She sought to live in accordance with laws of ritual purity, and she was faithful in prayer. She is also a model of wisdom. In spite of her questionable use of her beauty and deceitful shrewdness,⁵ her story obviously commended itself to the writer’s contemporaries and their descendants. As a result, the figure of Judith stands as a model that was greatly admired. She is

Judith With the Head of Holofernes. One of the celebrated women of Jewish tradition. Matteo di Giovanni (c. 1430–1495). Photograph by Michael Cavanagh. Indiana University, Kress Study Collection.

consistently depicted as superior to the men with whom she is associated…The author may be saying that God’s power is operative through the weakest of human agents. Nonetheless, Judith is no weakling. Her courage, her trust in God, and her wisdom—all lacking in her male counterparts—save the day for Israel.⁶

Another woman celebrated in the apocryphal writings and perhaps known to Mary was Susanna. The story of her faithful obedience to God is preserved in one of the additons to the Book of Daniel. In yet another apocryphal work, named after the pious Jewish figure Tobit, Mary would have found a rather different citation of a model. In one of Tobit’s frequent expressions of praise to God, he lauds God’s gift of Eve to Adam as his helper and support.⁷ He apparently attributed to Eve a certain amount of moral strength that Adam needed.

Mary would therefore have had several models of faithful women both in Scripture and in the intertestamental stories. The Magnificat shows that as a young woman she had a firm grasp on the nature of God and his work in history and in her own life.⁸ Mary speaks there of God’s greatness, holiness, mercy, deeds in history, and faithfulness to his covenant. Her reference to the needed reversal of the fate of rich and poor shows her sense of social justice. Mary has been the object of both excessive adulation and unnecessary belittling. But the portrait in Luke’s birth narratives and the further unfolding of her experiences in the Gospels reveal a woman who both loved God and needed to grow in faith.⁹

Mary’s Growth as a Woman of God

Mary’s growth was of a most unusual nature: she had to come to terms with the unique nature of her Son. She had to recognize that his apparent brusqueness (e.g., Didn’t you know… [Luke 2:49] and the address Woman,… [John 2:4 and 19:26 KJV]) communicated, not disrespect or insubordination in his relationship to her, but rather the difference in their ultimate relationship. In that respect they were not so much mother and son, but woman and divine Savior.

Mary’s faith could have been severely shaken if Joseph had taken the customary action when she told him she was pregnant. Jewish custom provided for a legal betrothal as a halfway step between what we now call engagement and the consummation of marriage. The law also mandated divorce as the only way to sever this relationship. Joseph’s choice was not whether to divorce Mary or not, but how to do it. He decided on a quiet divorce to avoid bringing Mary into public disgrace. Thus, even though the New Testament opens with a pending divorce (a remarkable fact in itself), the woman is treated with tender consideration. Joseph thought that what seemed to be right must be done—but with the least harm to the woman. While Joseph could be faulted for thinking as a man and apparently assuming Mary’s guilt, there was no other alternative at hand. A virginal conception could hardly have come to mind as an option.

Matthew does not say whether Joseph communicated his doubts to Mary, but if he did, it must have been unspeakably difficult for her. But even after that difficulty was resolved by Joseph’s complete acceptance of her pregnancy, she was to experience further tensions. When Jesus stayed behind in the Jerusalem temple at the age of twelve, Mary’s frustration erupted in the words Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you (Luke 2:48). Her question betrays both a mother’s natural anxiety and a lack of understanding. Jesus’ reply in the following verse—Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house? (or, about my Father’s business?)—implies that she should have gained a sense of his special filial relationship to God the Father. This is the first clue we have that, in spite of the remarkable insights she showed in the Magnificat, Mary needed time to absorb the implications of her Son’s person and mission.

At the wedding in Cana, Mary was apparently trying to mother Jesus, giving rather direct hints that he should do something about the need for more wine (John 2:3). His response has been the subject of much discussion.¹⁰ The question What have I to do with you? (v. 4) seems to us like a distancing of himself from his mother. But it is important to realize that in the idiom of the time it could mean some refusal of an inopportune involvement, and a divergence between the views of the two persons concerned.¹¹ That is to say, Mary needed to learn that Jesus was on a unique and lonely mission. It was a mission he alone understood. Mary was to learn more about it as time went on.

But we must still face the term woman. Why both here and at the cross (John 19:26) did Jesus use a term of address that elsewhere he used only in speaking with the semiforeign Samaritan woman (4:21) and the formerly demon-possessed Mary Magdalene (20:13)? Probably the character of these women in the Gospel of John has nothing to do with it. The fact is that no other woman appears in conversation with Jesus in John’s Gospel. Therefore, the simple term woman is really the only address we find on the lips of Jesus. It does not seem to carry any negative overtones, as it would today.

Mary as a Disciple

Mary had to learn to follow him as a disciple, rather than possessing and directing him as his mother. But this spiritual relationship did not obliterate her need of a human relationship. At the cross she was committed to

Jesus and Mary Studying the Torah. From Wallace, The Boyhood of Christ, Harpers Magazine, 74:439 (December 1886), 11.

John’s care, as a member of the new spiritual family.

She must enter the family of faith in full recognition of who she is as a sexual being. She will not lose that sexuality for some spirituality in the community of belief. Rather, she will assume her old role of motherhood and her new role as witness, prophetess and proclaimer of God’s word in relationship to believers.¹²

This view of Mary as a disciple in progress fits in with the picture we have of Jesus’ family in the Synoptic Gospels. His brothers did not believe in him before the Resurrection. In fact, they attempted to take control of him at one point, saying He is out of his mind.¹³ The fact that this occurs in Mark immediately before the charge that he was in collusion with Satan communicates the idea that no one understood him. Although Mary is not mentioned in this passage, there is no indication that she countered the opinion of her other sons. The positive element in this otherwise dismal picture is the statement of Jesus that his true relatives were those who did God’s will (or, according to Luke, who heard and did the Word of God).¹⁴ Jesus’ seemingly curt response to an unnamed woman in a crowd should be seen in the same way. She had called out, Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you, and he replied, Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it.¹⁵ This is a not a put-down of either the woman or of his mother. Jesus is simply affirming the tremendously important truth that human relationships are not as important as spiritual responsiveness. There is no reason to think that Jesus would have responded any differently to a man. In fact, he responded in a similar way to the man who wanted him to arbitrate in a matter of inheritance.¹⁶

In summary, Mary appears in the Gospels as a woman who is highly esteemed, acts like a normal mother, is spiritually more responsive than others but needs to grow as a woman of faith. She is neither exalted above normal womanhood nor looked down on as though her lapses in spiritual understanding had some connection with her being a woman.

Other Women Who Were Associated With Jesus

There are over forty references (not counting repetition in the parallel passages) to women in the Gospels, either in narratives or in the teachings of Jesus. These include allusions to Old Testament events or metaphors (such as Rachel’s weeping and the appellation Daughter of Zion), parables (the wise and foolish virgins, the woman who used leaven), women as a class (mothers, victims of lust and divorce), or strong characters in the narrative (Jesus’ mother, Mary and Martha). The following selections illustrate these.

Elizabeth and Anna

The next two women in the narrative of Luke are the aged Elizabeth and the venerable Anna.¹⁷ Luke accords respect to both. His description of Elizabeth parallels his description of her husband, Zechariah.¹⁸ It does not seem to have been necessary for Luke to include all he said about Elizabeth, since the narrative proceeds to focus on Zechariah. Nevertheless, when he mentions that Zechariah descended from the priestly line, he immediately says, His wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron (1:5). It could be said that the reason for mentioning this is to show that John the Baptist was in the priestly order on both lines. However, Luke goes on to say that both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly (1:6). He did not need to use the word both, but its occurrence emphasizes the fact of Elizabeth’s spiritual character. It is hard to think of a higher commendation of spiritual excellence than the one Luke used here to describe Elizabeth. He added that she had not been able to have children, a deficiency that was, of course, in Jewish society a matter of deep regret and embarrassment. The narrative goes on to show how God responded to the devout life of Elizabeth and her husband by giving them a son who would be the forerunner of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Anna seems to have functioned in two roles. One is related to Luke’s concern to root Christianity in Judaism. This concern regarding Jewish roots is seen in many ways. The opening scene of Luke’s Gospel is set in the Jerusalem temple. There is a reference to Jesus’ circumcision and then to the Jewish rites of purification for Mary, Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem at the age of twelve, and his custom of attending the synagogue; all these show fidelity to Judaism. Luke also emphasizes Jesus’ deliberate progression toward Jerusalem.

Anna’s other role may relate to the fact that Jewish law required two witnesses to validate a claim. Given Luke’s concern to validate Christianity as the legitimate heir of Judaism, and with his care to provide certainty regarding the facts of Jesus’ life (Luke 1:4), the prophet Simeon and Anna seem to have fulfilled this requirement as they testified to Jesus’ messiahship.¹⁹ But, if this is the case, there is something remarkable here. One of the witnesses is a woman even though the testimony of women was not acceptable in that society. There is something else striking about the mention of Anna. Luke tends to introduce women and men in pairs in his narrative. Therefore, whether or not this reference to two witnesses is a means of validating Jesus’ messiahship on the basis of Jewish custom, it certainly is an example of a pairing of male and female. Luke makes no attempt to lift her out of the customary family role of women, since he identifies her in relationship to her deceased husband. But we should not overlook the fact that he introduces her at the beginning of the passage in terms of her own ministry as a prophetess: There was also a prophetess, Anna.²⁰ The Old Testament referred to only three women as prophetesses. But here at the point of transition from the old age to the new age, a woman stands out as a devout servant of God to whom he entrusts a revelation concerning the coming of his Son.

Mary and Martha

Luke’s picture of Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet in the posture of a disciple²¹ has been called perhaps the strongest and clearest affirmation on the part of Jesus that the intellectual and ‘spiritual’ life was just as proper to women as to men.²² It is generally agreed that Jesus went far beyond the rabbis of his day in permitting this woman to assume the role of a disciple. This is certainly implied by Luke in portraying her as sitting at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.²³ Such a posture is described in the rabbinical literature (e.g., Let thy house be a meeting-house for the Sages and sit amid the dust of their feet and drink in their words with thirst),²⁴ and Paul said that he was instructed at the feet of Gamaliel (KJV).²⁵ It is clear that this is more than a posture of worship, as people so commonly think.

There is no evidence that Mary (or Martha) accompanied Jesus on his travels as other women did, but this does not preclude their being disciples. While the disciples of rabbis in the early centuries of this era did sometimes travel with their teachers, this was not a condition of learning. Paul seems to have understood the new freedom Jesus gave women, since he himself went beyond the usual rabbinic restrictions and permitted women to learn.²⁶ The fact that he wanted the women to learn quietly is so often stressed that it may be overlooked that he took the large step of permitting learning, against the customs of his day.

The account of Mary and Martha is, however, much more than just an example of a woman learning. It is full of vivid description and personal interaction. First of all, it was Martha who welcomed Jesus as a guest. There is not a word about Lazarus, who, according to John 11, also lived there. In that chapter of John, it is Martha who takes initiative rather than Mary, a characteristic that appears here also. The picture of Mary sitting and learning at Jesus’ feet is followed by a graphic description of Martha’s agitation. Luke says that Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’ (10:40).

Luke makes no effort to hide Martha’s anger. The verb that Luke uses to describe her being distracted could very well be used to describe someone we would today consider a workaholic. She was, literally, a driven woman. Her anger is understandable. No doubt many homes and many friendships have been strained by a person who feels compelled to be constantly active in Christian work to the neglect of ordinary family and household responsibilities. In this case, Martha did not even attempt to hide her feelings from Jesus, as one might expect she would do with a guest. Quite on the contrary, she opened the entire matter to him and asked him to intervene. Aída Besançon Spencer, in her vivid description of the scene, makes the following point:

Nevertheless, Martha’s indignation was perfectly understandable in the light of her culture. A Jewish woman’s primary role was that of homemaker. She was exempt from rabbinic training and received no merit from learning the law. Should not Martha’s request that Mary help her in service supersede Mary’s desire to learn?²⁷

Jesus’ response was to address Martha directly concerning her own attitude: Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her (10:41).

Martha at the Tomb of Lazarus

Jesus’ conversation with Martha at the tomb of Lazarus²⁸ is remarkable not only for its content but because Martha’s christological confession is virtually identical to that of Peter at Caesarea Philippi.²⁹ This is seen in a comparison of the Greek words:

su ei ho christos ho huios tou theou (Martha)

su ei ho christos ho huios tou theou tou zontos (Peter)³⁰

In English this reads literally:

You are the Christ, the Son of God.

You are the Christ, the Son of God the living.

The importance of this must not be minimized. In this scene the most important role of discipleship according to Johannine theology, that of proclamation of Jesus’ true identity, is given to a woman.³¹ An even stronger evaluation is this statement:

By giving his audience a story in which a woman is the recipient of one of Jesus’ most profound and direct statements about Himself, and in which a woman makes a heartfelt and accurate response to Jesus’ declarations, the Fourth Evangelist intimates that women have a right to be taught even the mysteries of the faith, and that they are capable of responding in faith with an accurate confession. In short, they are capable of being full-fledged disciples of Jesus.³²

Martha seems to have a status as a spokesperson in John similar to that of Peter in the Synoptics. Certainly her role is greater than his in the fourth Gospel.

Mary’s Anointing of Jesus at Bethany

One of the major themes in the Gospels is the lack of understanding and lack of faith of the disciples. The refusal of Peter to believe the first prediction of Jesus’ passion, which came immediately after the great confession he gave at Caesarea Philippi of Jesus’ deity and messiahship, illustrates this dramatically.³³ It was not until after the Resurrection that the disciples were able to understand that the Cross had to precede the crown. But one disciple did seem to understand. Six days before Jesus’ final Passover, Jesus went to the familiar home at Bethany where Lazarus, Mary, and Martha lived. Martha (typically) served, and Lazarus was at the table. Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.³⁴ When Judas Iscariot complained that the perfume had not been sold and the money given to the poor, Jesus responded, It was meant that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. The wording in Matthew is even more specific: She did it to prepare me for burial.³⁵ It is hard to escape the conclusion that this woman had a deeper understanding of the impending cross than did Jesus’ male disciples.

The importance of what she did was underscored by Jesus himself when he said, I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.³⁶ It is hard to imagine that any early Christian (or contemporary one, for that matter) would invent a saying that seems to direct attention away from Christ and to the woman. Obviously Jesus is the object of her ministration and the central figure in the narrative. But at this crucial point, Jesus directs attention to a woman. It is right, then, and in accordance with Jesus’ own statement, that the retelling and rereading of this incident a few days before Jesus’ crucifixion should direct our attention not only to him but also to her.

Women Who Traveled With Jesus

A number of women traveled with Jesus and were helping to support them out of their own means.³⁷ A cursory reading of this passage could overlook the fact that there were many others traveling with Jesus besides the three named women: …and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene), from whom seven demons had come out; Joanna, the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod’s household; Susanna; and many others. The gender of many others in the Greek text is feminine, so there is no mistaking the fact that these were women. Luke further specifies that they were helping to support them [presumably Jesus and his disciples] out of their own means. This is quite a different picture from that which most people have of the sheltered, dependent Palestinian women of the first century.

This fact is of extraordinary significance. In Judaism, women were exempt from learning the Torah. They might learn a great deal informally, as they did through synagogue teaching, but a woman would not on her own enter into an association with a rabbi to become his disciple. Further, women were not to be in close association with men, and it would be unheard of for women to travel with a rabbi. In addition, the idea of a woman assuming fiscal responsibility and having discretionary power over her own funds is an ideal that, in biblical literature, is found only in Proverbs 31.

It is not known how many of these women were married. One of them was, but presumably Mary Magdalene was not. This scene of traveling men and women, however, is a reminder of Jesus’ words about the cost of discipleship. He said that everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children for his sake will receive many times as much in return. This statement is found in several locations in the Gospels.³⁸ In Luke’s account the word wife occurs, but the word husband does not occur in any of the accounts. In another passage, Jesus spoke about those who make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom.³⁹ Putting all of this together, it is clear that Jesus signaled the disruption of the close-knit interdependent family. From now on there would be those—initially, primarily men, but, already in Jesus’ own lifetime, women as well—who were willing for at least some period of time to be away from that family structure.

While it may seem that the idea of celibacy, which is certainly involved here, is a restrictive mode of life, in Jesus’ day it was quite the opposite. The expected norm was for men and women to be married and raise children. By teaching celibacy as a legitimate (though not a higher) mode of life, Jesus was freeing people from the responsibilities of marriage, freeing them to serve him. This was to have profound effects in the centuries to follow, with later generations exalting the idea of the celibate life. This is not to suppose that the married people—for example, Cuza’s wife Joanna among the group of traveling women disciples—necessarily broke with their families in order to accompany Jesus on his itinerant ministry. This traveling group of women thus testifies to the advance in Jesus’ ministry over Jewish limitations of women. The inclusion of this in Luke also testifies to his appreciation of Jesus’ position in this regard.

Women to Whom Jesus Ministered

The Widow of Nain

Among the women Jesus helped in his earthly ministry, one whom Luke describes is a widow of the town called Nain. While the actual miracle was the raising of her son, the focus is on his mother. The son is described as the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.⁴⁰ The word translated only is the same word that is translated only begotten in the King James Version of John 3:16. Interestingly, except for John 3:16 (though there also it applies in some sense), every time that word appears in the Greek New Testament or in the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament, it refers to someone who was deeply loved and was either dead or in mortal danger. It adds a touch of pathos to this passage. The woman was left entirely alone when her son died.

In describing Jesus’ pity for her, Luke notes that when the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, Don’t cry. This could hardly be a demeaning gesture, though it does appear as if Jesus was reproving her for her grief. (See excursus on Luke’s view of women, page 49.) In the context, however, it is clear that Jesus was preparing her for the extraordinary event that would follow.

An additional factor in the understanding of this event is that Nain was around the other side of the mountain from Shunem, where Elisha had raised the son of the notable woman there. It seems inescapable that Luke’s mention of this raising of a woman’s son is intended to bring the other miracle to mind and to emphasize a theme found elsewhere in Luke, that Jesus came as a prophet (though more than that) in a manner that recalls the ministries of Elijah and Elisha.

The Woman Who Was a Sinner

The next women mentioned by Luke was a sinner.⁴¹ This means, in the vocabulary of the day, a person who lived a sinful life. After the woman had anointed Jesus’ feet with her tears and perfume, the host, who was a Pharisee, reflected, If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner. The man was, of course, wrong on three counts. He assumed that Jesus was not a prophet, as Jesus apparently did not know who the woman was. He also assumed that had Jesus known that she was a sinner, he would not have allowed her to do what she did. Since Luke mentions that he said this to himself, we know that the man assumed Jesus would not know his thoughts. Far from putting down women by singling out one who was sinful, Luke is contrasting the attitude of Jesus to such a woman with that of the Pharisee. (Ultimately, of course, there is a contrast between the Pharisee’s attitude to Jesus and the forgiven woman’s attitude.) Also the conclusion of the episode features the woman’s faith—a faith that their host obviously lacked. The concluding focus, then, is not on her weakness or sinfulness but on her commendable faith.

A Woman With an Awkward Disability

Another woman whom Luke describes had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all. Jesus declared her free from her infirmity and put his hands on her, and she straightened up immediately and praised God.⁴²

There are two remarkable aspects in this account. One is that Jesus was willing to incur criticism for healing a woman on the Sabbath. The fact that she had been in this condition for eighteen years meant that there was no urgency about the healing. It was deliberately done on the Sabbath and can be seen as part of Jesus’ program of setting the oppressed free.⁴³ In Luke’s understanding this is a facet both of the true Sabbath and of the Jubilee year referred to in Luke 4:19.

The second remarkable aspect is the concluding statement of Jesus. After saying that Satan had kept her bound during those eighteen years, Jesus wiped out the indignity of those long years and bestowed dignity on her by calling her a daughter of Abraham.⁴⁴ The idea of being a son of Abraham was common enough. Jesus used that term in reference to Zacchaeus a few chapters later in Luke. But Jesus with this one modification of the phrase—from son to daughter—raises this formerly pitiful woman to a new status. Ben Witherington says:

In our context, we may note the specific contrast between the label hypocrite that Jesus places on the synagogue ruler and those who agree with him, and the title of daughter of Abraham He gives to the woman. Again we see a woman not only being used as a positive example as she praises God, and even given a positive title, but also being defended at the expense of the males and in particular the synagogue ruler who objects to Jesus’ actions.⁴⁵

The Widow and Her Mite

In his parable of the judge and the widow (cf. p. 44), Jesus portrays a widow, not to stress her weakness, though she was needy, but to show the result of her firm persistence. Another widow appears in the familiar narrative of the widow’s mite.⁴⁶ Although Luke here portrays a woman characterized by weakness, a woman existing at the poverty level and without the protection and support of a husband, she becomes an example of faithful stewardship. She is not presented as an object of sympathy but of admiration.

The Woman at the Well

The contrast between the learned Jewish rabbi Nicodemus, with whom Jesus conversed in John 3, and the Samaritan woman, with whom he conversed in John 4, is striking. Nicodemus is a male, a professional Bible scholar, and presumably of impeccable morality. But the immoral Samaritan woman unexpectedly also demonstrates an interest in matters of religion.

One of the major points of interest in this narrative is that Jesus spoke alone with a woman, in contrast to the rigorous care that the Jews usually took not to have any close contact with women. Second, Jesus shared a drinking cup with a Samaritan. Third, he entered into a theological discussion with her. Fourth, he uncovered her sin, but he did not reject her because of that. Fifth, he discussed worship with her, never implying that she could not be a suitable worshiper. Finally, the woman became a witness through

The Widow Giving Her Mite With the Blessing of Jesus. Sixth-Century Mosaic. S. Apollinare nuovo. Alinari—Art Resource, New York.

whom many believed in Christ. There is no hint that her female sex in any way hindered Jesus’ ministry to her.⁴⁷

Of all the narratives recording Jesus’ conversation with women, this one contains the most conversational content. The scene is a town called Sychar, which was located in an area that Jews avoided if at all possible. Relations between Jews and Samaritans had been troubled for years; there had even been bloodshed. It was customary for the Jews to cross the Jordan and proceed north or south on the east side of the river, recrossing after Samaria had been passed. In this case Jesus had to go through Samaria. We are not told why; some have suggested it was due to divine intention for the sake of meeting this woman. Jesus’ humanity is apparent as he, tired, sat down by the well.

Midday was not a normal time for women to draw water, and some have thought the Samaritan woman was trying to avoid observation by others because of her reputation. That reputation does not appear at the beginning of the account. Rather, there was a conversation about water. The woman referred to the hostility between Jews and Samaritans, and Jesus responded with a comment about the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink. The conversation is rich with allusions. The woman’s inability to understand about living water had nothing to do with her sex. It is doubtful that anyone would have understood Jesus’ symbolic language; certainly the learned Nicodemus, in the conversation recorded in the immediately preceding chapter, did not understand what Jesus meant by spiritual birth.

Interpreters have often commented on the gentleness with which Jesus spoke as he introduced the delicate matter of the woman’s marital relationships. He led into a forthright comment that she had had five husbands and was not at the moment married to the man with whom she was living. Her calling Jesus a prophet and then introducing the matter about which of the conflicting claims by Jews and Samaritans concerning the legitimate place of worship was correct has often been considered a diversionary tactic. Whether it was or not, it is interesting that she introduced a theological matter and was not afraid to confront Jesus regarding his views as a Jew.

Jesus’ response was to speak with her about the very heart of true religion, the worship of God in spirit and in truth. Jesus prefixed his comment with a description of the nature of God as spirit. The woman’s response is surprising. While the Jews were expecting a Messiah, the Samaritans expected one they called a Taheb. They held that someone would come who corresponded to the prediction in Deuteronomy 18:18 (of a prophet like Moses). However, according to the Gospel of John, the woman spoke, not of the Taheb, but of the Messiah. The author simply inserts parenthetically called Christ by way of explanation. Jesus then identified himself as the Messiah.

The conversation was interrupted at that point by the return of the disciples. John significantly comments that they were surprised to find him talking with a woman but that no one asked ‘What do you want?’ or ‘Why are you talking with her?’ This points up the fact that Jesus once again broke with rabbinic attitude by conversing, this time alone, with a woman. It also implies that the disciples did not question Jesus’ morals or wisdom in this respect.

The next part of the passage is highly important. To begin with, although the woman became a missionary to the townspeople, her message was not as clear as might appear on the surface of the text. The first part is clear: Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. She was quite open in her attitude to her past and present and also to the perception of Jesus. But the next words convey her uncertainty: Could this be the Christ? The question in the Greek (introduced by the particle, mēti) suggests considerable uncertainty. While one might like to celebrate this woman’s bold confidence in Christ, something else is indicated that could be even more significant. Far from believing easily, or, to put it in crass terms, being gullible, as some might (wrongly) expect a woman to be, this woman was cautious about her conclusion. It is not that she was a doubter, for it is remarkable that any Samaritan would on the basis of one conversation even entertain the possibility that the speaker was the Jewish Messiah! She had ventured into the area of faith, willing to break with her own tradition but not rushing headlong and wide-eyed into something she did not understand.

Two early paintings of Jesus Christ and the Woman of Samaria. Left: In this painting (Cemetery of Calixtus, Rome), Jesus is pictured above the woman. Above: In this somewhat later painting (Catacomb Via Latina, Rome) Jesus and the woman are on the same level Both are wearing an early version of the dalmatic, which symbolized status in the Christian community. Does this indicate changing perceptions of the woman in the early church? Alinari—Art Resource, New York.

This caution did not lessen the import or effect of what she said. John reports, Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony. This is similar to Jesus’ words later, when, in the Upper Room after the Last Supper, he said to the Father, I pray also for those who will believe in me through their [i.e., the apostles’] message.⁴⁸

But what about the following words of the Samaritan people to the woman: We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world? Does this minimize the testimony of the woman? Raymond E. Brown comments on the people’s remark: Yet this is scarcely because of an inferiority she might have as a woman—it is the inferiority of any human witness compared to encountering Jesus himself.⁴⁹

Peter’s Mother-in-Law

Peter’s mother-in-law had a fever while Jesus was visiting at Peter’s home.⁵⁰ The seriousness of the illness is not stated. The incident occurs in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, with little modification. Matthew and Mark say that Jesus touched her, an act that was characteristic of Jesus. In this case, since she was a woman, it was a questionable act, according to the mores of that society, but there is no evidence that it was a matter of concern, perhaps because of the difference in age. (Although rabbis were known to take a sick person’s hand if he was a man, there are no examples of rabbis doing so for a woman, and certainly not on the Sabbath when the act could wait until after sundown.)⁵¹ When she was healed, she immediately served Jesus and the others. In doing this she went beyond what was usually done by the matron of the house.⁵² All three Synoptic Gospels also mention this act of serving. It is surely not intended as a statement of subservience in any of the Gospels. It was an act of gratitude appropriate to the social situation of the day.

The Woman Taken in Adultery

It is difficult to know what the original biblical setting was for this episode. Most early texts do not have it where it presently is—John 7:53–8:11.⁵³ It could be said that even if it does not belong here, it does reflect an attitude of Jesus that rings true. The account is well known. A woman was caught in the act of adultery, and the religious leaders were about to stone her to death. Jesus wrote something on the ground (which the Scriptures do not disclose, but which curious people ever since have tried to reconstruct), after which he addressed the crowd: If anyone of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her. This, of course, does not mean that Jesus minimized the woman’s sin. It is rather a statement that all have sinned and a statement also of God’s mercy. In that society what a man could do and get away with could not be done with impunity by a woman. Jesus once again cut across the grain of his society. His double statement to the woman has been the subject of many sermons: Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.

Jairus’ Daughter and the Woman With a Hemorrhage

On one occasion, Jesus performed miracles on behalf of two women.⁵⁴ The narrative begins with a father, Jairus, pleading with Jesus to come to his daughter, who was dying. On the way, a woman with a hemorrhage pressed through the crowds and, seeking healing, touched the edge of Jesus’ cloak. Jesus sensed that power had gone out of him, called out to ask who it was who touched him, and, when she approached, commended her faith.

Christ Healing the Woman With a Hemorrhage. Late third-century lunette. Crypt Arcosolium. From Art Resource, New York.

Meanwhile, Jairus’ daughter had died. Jesus told the crowds that she was just sleeping, probably using that euphemism so that when he raised her the miracle would not bring him as much attention from those who were seeking a spectacular messiah. Jesus did raise the girl, after encouraging the father’s faith. Incidentally, the girl’s mother is not mentioned until the end, when there is a reference to the parents in the plural.

While the account is about two women, Jairus’ daughter is, of course, passive. The two objects of attention are Jairus himself and the woman with the hemorrhage. Thus a man and a woman are paired together as people of faith. Actually, Jairus seems to have needed some encouragement and may not have been as strong as the woman. The reason Jesus singled her out was clearly not to embarrass her but to reveal and commend her faith. Jesus could have expressed distress over becoming ceremonially unclean, for that was understood to be the result of touching anyone with a physical discharge.⁵⁵ But he was obviously more concerned over the woman than over matters of ritual cleanliness. The woman with the hemorrhage was a member of a marginal group.⁵⁶ She was a woman, in this case unclean because of her hemorrhage, and there is no indication of her having any status such as being related to a prominent man might give her. She undoubtedly lived a lonely life. She stands in contrast to