Thursday, January 2, 2020
Monday, October 30, 2017
Spietis of the Devill Mary Stromer Hanson
Spietis of the devill, shrieked the High
Court of Justiciary. Women for pain.
No whiff of herb, sorcerie, charms.
Sche deserves what Eve brought forthe.
Timber heaped high, stake driven deep.
Shee is reprehensible and heretical.
From Pain of labour to Pain of flames,
Eufame MacLayne bare twins, her babes
torn from her full breasts aching on the
Castle Hill of Edinburgh. Genesis, Exodus . .
Do not contravene the Decrees of Providence.
Evil women. Gateway of the Devil.
Sche gasped for a potion, the midwife
Agnes Sampson, seized her hidden stash.
Now damned for showing compassion
practicing her craft. Carnal, Heresy!
Woman, do not despise your curse.
Outcasts, Bitches, Hexen, Vixen, Scum.
Faire is foul, and foul is faire. She who is
the misbegotten sex, brings black plague.
"God almighty, when did I deny you?
You forsook me, you made my feminine form."
Fire licking at her soles, hair singed.
“Come my child, you are home in my breasts.” October 30, 2016
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
The Legacy of a Patriarchal Church
How to recognize a woman who grew up in patriarchal church environments:
Sculpture of Katharina von Bora before and after marriage to Martin Luther. Original in the house where she died in Torgau, Germany.
She regrets many missed opportunities to . . .
apply for jobs, grants, and scholarships for which she did not feel qualified.
ask for appropriate wages.
apply for jobs requiring leadership skills.
speak up, contribute ideas, add to a conversation.
find mentors, take advantage of mentors.
She is genuinely . . .
content to volunteer her skills which she doesn’t believe deserve payment.
amazed if an employer would ever pay her to increase her skills.
certain she must work twice harder than other employees.
amazed if a male elder or pastor sits down with her and asks, “what’s on your mind?”
She is convinced . . .
if she gets a job, it is because no one else is available.
if someone more qualified comes along, she will be replaced.
someone else, especially men, can do it better.
her best is never good enough. She must be perfect.
female and feminine is inherently inferior.
she is too ugly, old, short, young, weak, or not cool enough to get a job.
if a man has half the credentials, he will get the job.
She lacks self-respect so she . . .
does not demand respect from others.
sits in the back row. First -class is too good for her.
defers to even much younger men, including brothers.
hesitates to ask questions.
occupies the minimum amount of space.
pretends to understand more than she does.
feels dreams are delusions; hope will disappoint.
In relationships, she feels she . . .
must always defer to others or she will lose friends.
does not deserve good opportunities that come her way.
good opportunities will disappear as fast as they appear.
must share or deflect praise; escapes being in the center of attention.
must do the lion’s share of maintaining a relationship.
is naïve, if she is taken advantage of it is her fault.
expects people to talk to her only if no one more interesting is available.
is used to people looking through her or over her shoulder.
if a friend or spouse leaves, it is her fault.
will only attract a “flawed” spouse, she must “settle” because no one better will like her.
Personally she . . .
has been taught to distrust her intuition, emotions, feelings.
feels that men’s rational, logical thinking is superior to her haphazard thinking.
tends to talk too loud because that is the only way she gets attention.
talks too fast because she only gets limited time with important people.
knows that when men in dark suits approach her, she will be reprimanded.
is afraid to challenge men, backs down easily when challenged.
Quickly gives others the benefit-of-the-doubt.
When she reads the Bible she . . .
understands it was written by men for men.
must always filter between verses for men only and verses that include her.
knows if empowered women appear in the Bible, they are explained away.
does not trust her own understanding.
She assumes that God . . .
puts her “on hold” until a more convenient time.
has more important people in line for his attention.
does not speak to her, men are more important.
has no call for her; only men are “called.”
She notes that . . .
young men get opportunities. Older women never got offers when they were young. Now they are old, they are not considered worth investing in.
when she offers her ideas, no one pays attention. When a man suggests the same thing, it is applauded.
A residue of sin remains in women that the cross did not erase. Brought to light by the various restrictions.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
poem by Mary Stromer Hanson
art by Gisele Bauche, Canadian
Love at your first breath,
My death at your last,
The tomb you escaped,
We embraced, we ate,
Forgot past sadness.
Swallowed in a cloud.
How does a mother
Contain all of this?
Here and gone again.
Enough, no further!
Forty short days, Jesus
I hardly left your side,
You promise to return
Exactly as you rose
by clouds in the sky.
Now wind, tongues,
Of flames on our heads,
Maid servants will prophesy!
It is true, I am blessed,
As the angel Gabriel said.
Your comfort is with us,
In this Spirit you sent,
I feel your breath again.
As you were here before,
I ponder these things.
My other children,
have taken me in.
Yet my first is still here,
I am content now to die
In peace and oblivion.
Thursday, April 13, 2017
THE MASTER’S VOICE Matthew 29:30
Bread broken, a hymn was sung.
“I will not drink of the vine,
fruit of earthly soil until new
with you in my father’s kingdom.”
He raised his voice a soft rumble;
The root note beneath them all.
Thunder in the distance, his bass
Lifted them sweetly aloft.
Perhaps he voiced high tenor,
His lips shaping clear vowels
That soared above the others.
He set the true pitch sensed
in shimmering stars.
Did their wet eyes seek his,
Inhale in unison, or did Jesus
Tap the downbeat?
Harmony in fifths and fourths
Angelic voices chimed in above.
Marys and Simons in harmony
Tightly woven, occasional
Dissonance relaxed melts into
the sweetest tension.
Earthly echoes of heavenly resonance
A Capella or did John tune the lute?
This the voice lambs heard,
Stilled the water, raised the dead.
Which psalm duets the last cup?
A tremor here and a catch
In breath, there, they blend again.
A plagal echo lingers eternally
Absorbed in ancient walls,
Witnessed the final Amen.
By Mary Stromer Hanson March 2016
Painting by Jacques Joseph Tissot (1836-1902:
Last Discourse of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Tuesday, April 11, 2017
Mary’s Sword Poem by Mary Stromer Hanson 4/9/2017
Art: "Women at the Cross" by William Strang 1859-1921
Huddled beneath the cross,
We sink in blood-soaked mud.
Stones embedded in our knees,
Light, dark, thunder, sun again.
Has it been a day? Time is lost.
Moaning mouths now silent,
No two words cling together.
My son just cried, “Father,
Why have you forsaken me?”
Long ago, Gabriel spoke,
“You are highly favored!”
My young body was eager,
My faith was so innocent,
“May it happen as you say.”
Youthful ignorance spoke,
He meant favored for this?
To see my son brutally die?
God, to this I did not agree!
My firstborn was a delight,
Despite the village gossip,
Dear Joseph at my side then,
Ignored the whispered scorn.
A sword did not occur to me.
At first my younger children,
Did not all agree with him.
He asked, “who is my mother?”
That one day, like I wasn’t there!
Simeon’s mysterious words,
“The rise and fall of many.”
Our house was full of friends,
How was I so naive?
One denied him last night,
Betrayed him with a kiss.
You his Father, you allowed this!
Remember, His earthly flesh mine.
Were we not in this together?
Now I know this sword of Simeon,
He said this child, my son, will
Be the rise and fall of many.
Spouses split, friends fail,
Sheep scattered, curtain rent.
The Jews in disarray,
My heart pierced lifeless.
The mighty win, the poor
still hunger. That sword.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Laments from Childhood: “Will I Ever Really Belong?”
by Mary Stromer Hanson
“Jesus Loves Me This I know,” but he loves the boys more.
“Faith of our Fathers,” but the faith of the mothers is not notable.
“Dare to be a Daniel,” but do girls ever do noble deeds?
“Go ye therefore and teach all nations, baptizing,” but not me, only the men.
“A father, husband, or oldest son must be your head.”
So what is wrong with my own head?
“The twelve disciples are all men,” so I am excluded yet again.
God, you made me a woman, but despise me for being what I am?
If I love you with all my heart, why don’t you love me back?
Do my prayers not soar so high, do you not hear me so well?
Will my arms never be long enough, my voice loud enough?
Will I ever be included even after 1,000,000 years in heaven?
Praise God for new songs, new stories, new lessons, new life!
This was written at a very low point many years ago.
I just found it again. Thank you to CBE, the many authors,
teachers, and mentors who have aided my recovery.