Third Sunday after Pentecost – Becoming Midwives

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST, June 26, 2022

“Becoming Midwives” (Exodus 1:8-22)

Do you ever notice how certain memories stick in your mind? I have long since forgotten the name of the professor, but I can still see him, standing at the front of the classroom at Emmanuel, gazing at us intently, waiting for someone to speak. He appeared to think that we all should be able to answer his question: “what were the names of the Hebrew midwives?” off the top of our heads. I consider that I have a fairly good knowledge of the Bible, and thanks to my studies in history, I am used to memorizing the names of kings and pharaohs, generals and revolutionaries – the movers and shakers – the ones who according to the nineteenth century “great man” approach to history make things happen. But midwives, really? Seeing the blank look on our faces, he had us turn to the passage Ann read in Exodus. He pointed out that the pharaoh is simply referred to as “a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph” while the Hebrew midwives are named – Shiphrah and Puah. This naming is all the more surprising because in the Bible, women are often only identified by their relationship to a man – their father, husband or son – or by some descriptive tag like “bent over” or “possessed by a demon”. This story clearly gave me pause. When the facilitator at a recent “Flourish” event for clergy in Shining Waters asked the names of the Hebrew midwives, my and shot up and I shouted out: “Shiphrah and Puah”.

In this world, we tend to focus on those with power and authority – President Putin of Russia with his invasion of the Ukraine and former American President Donald Trump and the investigation into the January 6th storming of the Capitol; Premier Doug Ford unveiling his new cabinet and Elon Musk, the richest man in the world, who is 1 seeking to revolutionize transportation both on and off the world. This story, however, raises the question: have we got the wrong end of the stick?

In this world, it seems to me that we have a propensity for singing and listening to songs of fear just like this nameless pharaoh. He sees that the people of Israel who settled in Egypt during the time of the famine are growing in number. He immediately views this as a threat: soon there will be more Hebrews than Egyptians. Does this story sound familiar? In the United States, such scaremongering over non-white immigration supplanting the white population has been a factor in immigration policy for more than a century. The only shift over time has been in which ethnic or racial group has been labelled “problematic”. Especially given my previous involvement in carrying out Canadian immigration policy, I would like to say the same is not true here. But in the early twentieth century, a member stood up in Parliament to declare that one Chinese immigrant a year was one too many. No one shouted him down or even mildly disagreed. Some Canadians express fear over the different waves of newcomers and the impact they may have on the population already here. Conveniently forgotten is the fact that white Europeans themselves pushed out the First Nations who were in the land.

In 1968 in Great Britain, the Conservative MP, Enoch Powell, invoked fear over immigration from the Commonwealth making Britons “strangers in their own country”. In May of this year, the alleged gunman in the Buffalo mass shooting posted a 180-page missive online in which he wrote that he wanted: “to spread awareness to my fellow whites about the real problems the West is facing” – namely, mass immigration and white people not having enough babies. He alleged that this assault on European people will lead to their complete racial and cultural replacement. This theory has inspired attacks on ethnic and religious minorities around the world.

I suspect this nameless pharaoh would feel right at home with today’s proponents of white replacement theory. Not remembering how Joseph had served the pharaoh and saved Egyptians, he is sure the rising numbers of Israelites pose a threat to his people’s well-being and security – all this is based on zero evidence. They are different and that is enough to make them suspect. Who knows how they may change Egyptian society. They may even side with foreign invaders. So Pharaoh introduces tough measures to grind them down. When forced labour doesn’t do the trick, he opts for infanticide – all male Hebrew babies are to die. He is not the first and he is certainly not the last to regard genocide as a solution. Just think back over the last 100 years: 1915-20, Armenians in Turkey were killed en mass; 1939-45, 6 million Jews died in the holocaust; 1992, Serbs committed ethnic cleansing against Bosnian Muslims; 1994, nearly one million ethnic Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed in Rwanda as the international community stood by. And this is not even a complete list.

This pharaoh sees his world changing. He reacts with fear and a determination to keep things the same. This response of fear, this instinct to hold on to what is at all costs is not confined to political leaders. We see it in the church. When we try to secure our future by sitting on a financial nest egg, refusing to spend any of it on programming and outreach. To say that such action – or should I say inaction – does not encourage excitement around God’s mission and ministry is an understatement. In one congregation which shall be nameless, the chair of finance at annual meeting after annual meeting would stand there shaking his head sorrowfully while contemplating the probability that we would not exist in five years. At another, a younger church leader looked around at all the grey heads and anticipated the day they would all be gone and she would have to find another community of faith. Singing such sad songs does nothing to attract new people.

Pharaoh may think he is the be all and end all, but he has reckoned without Shiphrah and Puah. Pharaoh may assume these women will be so afraid of him and the punishment he could inflict that they will meekly comply with his order. But the midwives fear God – fear as in hold God in awe and wonder. So when it comes to a choice between obeying pharaoh and following God’s leading, God wins every time. And look what happens. These two women who seem so insignificant in the eyes of society manage to put a spoke in the wheels of mighty pharaoh’s schemes. They use his own racial prejudice against him by arguing that the Hebrew women, unlike civilized, cultured Egyptians, are such animals that they give birth without assistance. Clever, eh?

In shining the spotlight on these two women, the storyteller encourages us to look around our own communities to identify the midwives who are helping new life come forth. At Bloor Street United, which is right by the University of Toronto, someone thought of offering support to stressed out students during exam time. Volunteers set up a cart in the Robarts Library to provide free beverages and cookies. It was not a big gesture, but it brought students moments of delight, and opportunities to decompress with sympathetic listeners. Someone else noticed how hard it is to break into the housing market when both first and last months rent have to be provided. They created a revolving fund called Jeremiah’s Field to make loans particularly to refugees and newly arrived immigrants.

At Richmond Hill United, a member heard that children were arriving at school without breakfast. Minus what is often described as the most important meal of the day, these children were finding it difficult to concentrate on their studies. In two schools, Breakfast Clubs were established, staffed by church volunteers, to prepare and serve meals to any child who showed up. Meanwhile, the manse which sits right beside the church was used to house refugee families sponsored by the congregation. Now it hosts Home on the Hill, a place for young adult psychiatric survivors.

 At present, in my community of Richmond Hill, I would identify one of Gilford’s young people, Rebecca, as someone who is bringing forth new life. During the pandemic, it became obvious: there are real problems with our system of long-term care. Far too many residents died of covid; even more were so isolated that their cognitive ability and emotional health plummeted. Individuals like the creator of Memory Lane question whether institutionalizing seniors is the best approach. She set up a house to offer day programming and respite care for women with dementia. Enter staff member, Rebecca, who encourages these women to garden and play games, to sing, dance and help with meal preparation. I wish you could see the smiles appearing, and hear the complaining about all they have lost give way to gales of laughter.

Pharaoh may seem to have all the power. He may try to rule by fear and intimidation. But thanks be to God who raises up midwives to birth new life. Thanks be to God who invites us to become midwives in our time and place. Amen