The Book of Women's Lives

I realize this has happened and will continue to happen often in life, but over the past few days, I've had so very many of those life moments where you say to yourself...'how did i get here?'

Take yesterday - my first day teaching a Bible study on the Book of Esther to a group of elderly, white South African ladies. And I do mean 'ladies' in the most ladylike sense of the word. I had met them once before, to tell them who I was and ask what they would like to study. They simply commented then that 'anything would be lovely.' They said they are all students - mind you, some of these ladies are over 90 and absolutely have more to teach me than I can hope to teach them.

The only thing, however, that they had covered so far on the Book of Esther was that it was the only book of the Bible that does not mention God...I thought perhaps that was a good place for us to start...

And so, I prepared and got a lesson plan together, but I only really have two commentaries available, so I thought I'd have to get a little creative... It just so happened that in my room at Janice's house I had found and been reading The Penguin Book of Women's Lives. It includes a story that I read and treasured long ago by Maya Angelou, from her book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. It seemed to me that part of this story drew some beautiful parallels to the ways that Esther took responsibility for the unexpected life in which she found herself. In it, Maya Angelou's grandmother is taunted by some "powhitetrash" girls, much to Maya's horror and rage. All her grandmother does is gracefully stand strong, singing hymns so that by the end of the scene, you realize that the "oppressed" has triumphed, and perhaps it is the oppressor who is truly oppressed after all.

In this place - in South Africa at this time - there is much to be pondered about who is oppressed and who is oppressing.

And so, here I was, a 25 year old American ministerial candidate, reading Maya Angelou's wisdom resulting from years of oppression in America, to a group of post-Apartheid, white South African ladies in the Cry Room of a Methodist Church in Durban.

How did I get here?

I told them that one of the things I love about Esther's story is that it is an example of ordinary humanity being called to a life and a love and a commitment far greater and beyond her than she or anyone else could possibly have imagined. I posited to the ladies that the same was true for Maya's grandmother - how could she possibly have ever known that over seventy years after such an incident in her life took place, a young white girl would be reading her story of grace to a group of white South African women. How could she have known that they would listen to such a story with ears and hearts wide open. How could she have known that they would respond with moans and exclamations of amazement at the courage displayed. These women (myself included) who watched millions of people become displaced, taunted, and killed because of their color.

It is a crucial reminder for me in this place, at this time, that my life here is not about me at all but is about a far deeper, greater history and future than I can understand. It is about a relationship with God that has brought life to others throughout centuries and centuries and will continue to bring life to others long after I am gone.

Maya's grandmother from I Know Why...: "Glory, glory, hallelujah, when I lay my burden down."