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Though I have always loved this feast, I have come to a whole new appreciation of it this year, having been given the change to really sit with the readings in preparation for these reflections. Here’s why: this is a feast day when female voices aren’t just present but are prominent. As befits this day, the feminine is front and center, with a clarity and volume that I really can’t remember on any other feast or Sunday.
Listening to the first reading, the gospel, and the story of our patroness, we hear women. Though I could have told you that “stern as death is love” was a line from the first reading from the Song of Songs for Scholastica, I hadn’t ever spent much time with that reading. Last weekend I did. I read all of the Song of Songs in one sitting, looked at some commentaries, and learned a lot. I won’t bore you with everything I thought was interesting, but here’s one cool thing. You’ll remember that there’s no narrator in this book. Some people see it as a dialogue between a bride and a groom, read allegorically as a conversation between the Church and God. Others see it as snatches of several voices, some male and some female. But whichever model you look at, over two-thirds of the voices are a woman’s. The reading we hear today is the woman speaking – imperatively, emphatically, poetically. In the passage from Luke, Martha and Mary loom large. We don’t actually hear anything Mary says, but we see what she does – and we both hear and see her sister’s reaction. And then there’s Scholastica – the backdrop for it all – the very model of unrepentant surety. So much so, that even the venerable Gregory points out that it was she who had the greater love.
One article I read on the Song of Songs discussed several of the qualities that characterize the female voices in the book. It doesn’t take long to see that those same qualities are shared by our other heroines of the day. All of them are seeking, feeling, articulate, and adventurous. Let’s look at these one by one for a minute.
These women seek. Several times throughout the Song of Songs the woman goes in search of the man, without shame and with great eagerness. Sometimes she finds him, sometimes not. But she is driven enough to keep searching. The gospel tells us that when Jesus got to town, Martha went out to welcome him into the family home. Mary, certainly, was seeking to learn everything that Jesus had to teach. And though Scholastica seems to have had a much greater grasp on the concept of stability than did Benedict, through daily lived experience with her sisters and holy conversation with her brother, she, too, was seeking a greater understanding of God’s action in her life. Many of us are familiar with Kathleen Norris delightful retelling of The Dialogues for children called The Holy Twins. In it Scholastica gently teases her brother: “Isn’t it funny that you had to travel all over Italy to learn some of the things I discovered by staying in one place.”
These women feel. The Song of Songs contains all manner of feeling: desire, confidence, curiosity, frustration, patience, fear, courage, and as we hear centrally today, love. This woman, or women, is not just living in her head; these are whole human people, minds and bodies, hearts and souls. As are Mary and Martha – so human in their two approaches to the same situation. Mary – seemingly peaceful and content for having chosen the better part. Martha – burdened, anxious, worried, resentful. Gregory never tells us exactly how Scholastica feels, but we can absolutely infer it from what she does: she moves, requests, listens, prays, cries. He does tell us that love was the impetus for it all.
These women speak. The female voices in the Song of Songs discourse beautifully and powerfully about what they know to be true. Today’s reading is one of the best examples: “Deep waters cannot quench love, nor floods sweep it away. Were we to offer all we own to purchase love, we would be roundly mocked.” One of the things I love most about Martha is just how real she is. I remember Benita talking many years ago on this feast about how Martha trusted Jesus’ love for her enough to really say what she was feeling. That, too, is powerful. And who has the best line in the rain story? Any Benedictine in the world can tell you that. “I asked you and you wouldn’t listen to me. I asked my Lord and he listened. Go now, if you can. Leave me and go back to your monastery.” It doesn’t get much more articulate than that.
These women risk. All of these women did things their culture told them they were not supposed to do. The bride goes out at night looking for the groom more than once in the Song of Songs – and one of those times, gets beaten up by the city guards for being out along after curfew. Martha and Mary broke all kinds of rules. They entertained Jesus – a male not related to them – alone in their house. They served him. Mary sat at his feet – the place of a student, a rabbit’s male student. Scholastica took on her brother, who was probably counting on her deferring to him – because, really, who didn’t? – and won. But then she proved that it wasn’t about the winning at all in how the rest of the night went – each, as Gregory says, “fully satisfying the other with holy talk on the spiritual life.”
Any, and all, of these women can be excellent guides for us. They show us about faith in the One who is love. They show us about faith in the people around them. And they show us – a lot – about faith in themselves. We probably won’t be able to display all of those qualities everyday, but they give us something to shoot for. They are a bounteous gift to us. Happy Feast Day.