Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #34 ;  Hosea 1–3 ,  Hosea 11 ;  13–14 . I have complicated feelings about the book of Hosea. Hosea is a metaphor, and metaphors are powerful things – easy to remember, great at making complicated subjects simple, and capable of expanding our perspective on a given topic. Christ’s parables still resonate nearly two thousand years later. President Uchtdorf used them beautifully at the women’s sessions of General Conference to appeal to the broad age range of his audience. And Old Testament prophets used them in vivid ways to capture attention and clarify God’s will. The surface of Hosea’s metaphor – Christ as the forgiving husband, and Israel as His unfaithful bride – speaks powerfully of the expansiveness of Christ’s atonement. I love its message of forgiveness and love. We all fall short, but Hosea teaches us that there is no line we can cross where God will not want us to return to Him. He unequivocally states that we cannot wound God enough that He will stop loving us. This message is so relevant, and so deeply needed. However, when you dig into the language of the text, particularly towards women, things get problematic. On a basic level, you have 3:2, where Hosea takes out some silver and buys an adulterous woman (who most scholars agree is Gomer, discussed in chapter 1). It makes me really uncomfortable to see women treated as property to be bought and sold. And on a more disturbing level, you have the language of God’s rage with Israel in chapter 2. He threatens Israel, using the imagery of the betrayed husband meting out his punishment on his unfaithful wife. The enraged husband threatens to strip her naked and expose her (2:3, 10), “slay her with thirst” (2:3), have no mercy on her children (2:4), and withhold food from her (2:9). It hurts to see a prophet use language that today would qualify as domestic abuse and violence to make a rhetorical point. I’ve long since stopped feeling upset with biblical figures for not being well versed in feminist thought that only hit the mainstream in the last century. They, like us, are products of their time, and are only going to receive the revelation that they can conceive to ask, based on the culture they are a part of. And throughout the centuries, God has spoken to His people using language they can understand. The world of Hosea was a patriarchal, violent place. Treating women as property was commonplace, and the penalty for adultery was death by stoning. To his audience, there was nothing shocking about the nature of the metaphor, and for a people dabbling in polytheism, the metaphor was apt. It isn’t fair for me to be upset with ancient people for acting like ancient people, and Hosea for using language his audience would understand. What I can hope for is that as we teach Hosea today, we can discuss the metaphor with a focus on the realities and needs of our modern audience. And I hope we qualify the metaphor with what modern revelation teaches us about the worth of women and the sinfulness of domestic abuse. When it comes to Hosea purchasing a woman, I love contrasting that story with an experience Elder Rasband shared from his visit to the Democratic Republic of the Congo , which clarifies the Lord’s view about the current practice of bride prices. The newsroom article states,“Prior to the multistake conference in Lubumbashi, Elder Rasband felt prompted to invite a young single woman named Anastasia, who had attended the earlier young adult devotional, to share her testimony. Without prompting or direction, Anastasia bore her testimony about the importance of eternal marriage and the need to abandon bride price. “We are not merchandise,” she declared to parents and other relatives. Elder Rasband remembers a hush settling across the congregation. “She bridged a subject that is so sensitive,” he said. “I could not be more proud of her. … That was the most powerful address of my 10-day journey.” I love that Elder Rasband not only recognizes our divine worth, but that he also privileges women’s voices in communicating the principle. And as we teach the book of Hosea, including modern revelation in the discussion gives us the opportunity to celebrate the divine source of our worth. When it comes to the metaphor of the vengeful husband, we should be crystal clear that our prophets and apostles demand a higher, holier standard in our own marriages. I seldom see our leaders use stronger language than when it comes to condemning domestic abuse. There are far more examples than I can cite here, but to sample a few highly relevant statements: “We condemn most strongly abusive behavior in any form. We denounce the physical, sexual, verbal, or emotional abuse of one’s spouse or children. …No man who abuses his wife or children is worthy to hold the priesthood of God. No man who abuses his wife or children is worthy to be a member in good standing in this Church. The abuse of one’s spouse and children is a most serious offense before God, and any who indulge in it may expect to be disciplined by the Church.” – President Gordon B. Hinckley “Physical abuse is uniformly and unequivocally condemned in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If it is possible to be more condemning than that, we speak even more vigorously against all forms of sexual abuse.” – Elder Jeffrey R. Holland Perhaps this distinction seems obvious to us, but there are women in abusive marriages listening to our lessons, and they need to see us call the abusive imagery what it is. It is imperative to explain that there are elements of the metaphor that are not in harmony with our current leaders’ teachings. As we thoughtfully guide the discussion, we can share Hosea’s powerful message of forgiveness and love, as well as clarifying the elements of the parable that don’t align with modern revelation. For additional reading on domestic violence, read these MPW interviews: TO SHINE A LIGHT Elizabeth Ostler THE SHINING LIGHT OF OAKLAND Betty Stevenson “YOU PASS” Maria de Jesus Cristina

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #35 ;  Amos 3:6–7 ,  Amos 7:10–17 ;  8:11–13 ;  9:8–15 ,  Joel 2 ;  3:16–17 .  We’ve had a lot of convert baptisms in our ward this year, so that nearly every second Sunday another new person is confirmed during sacrament meeting. I can’t help sitting up a little straighter when I hear those words, “we say unto you, receive the Holy Ghost.” They make me wonder how the Spirit will show itself in the life of this just-baptized person. Membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints hinges on this agreement to live in harmony with the Spirit of God. But receiving the Holy Ghost is by no means easy to define. Although we regularly pray for the spirit in public and private, I often question its role in my life. Sometimes the inner answer to those questions is an uncomfortable awareness of my very unspiritual tendencies. Other times I can’t readily remember the Spirit in my life, and I’m left feeling grey and doubtful. I remind myself that spiritual questions rarely have pat answers, and that doubt and belief are two sides of a life of faith, but that doesn’t make those times particularly easy. And then there are the times when I feel deeply certain of God’s hand in my life and in the world, and I feel most truthful when I acknowledge that spiritual presence. The text for this Sunday School lesson includes verses that promise a world filled with spiritual gifts. The citation of these verses is significant in our church history. Joel 2:28-29 says: “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: And also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit.” Joel lived some time before the 4th century BC and looked toward a future spiritual fulness of times. His prophecy is quoted verbatim in chapter 2 of the Acts of the Apostles on the day of Pentecost when the apostles spoke in tongues to a crowd of astonished witnesses. These same verses are also referenced by the angel Moroni who told Joseph Smith that their promise of spiritual blessings would soon be fulfilled ( JSH 1:41 ). It was only after this vision of Moroni that Joseph Smith started translating the Book of Mormon and eventually established the church. In Joel’s vision, spiritual power does not belong just to a tribe of priests or a guild of prophets. The words of these verses are careful to identify different strata of human society, with gifts of the Spirit given to old and young, rich and poor, men and women — a spiritual feast for all walks of life. In our theology, the Spirit has universal access, and in a perfect world, everyone would receive and recognize its power. The church is a foretaste of that ideal world, one in which every confirmed member is promised the companionship of the Holy Ghost if she will receive it. We don’t live in a perfect world though. In the Genesis story, Adam and Eve are not only thrust out of the Garden of Eden into a world of physical suffering, they are also cut off from direct access to divine knowledge, comfort, and companionship. This is the human plight, to be alienated from the goodness of God, to live with an obscured understanding of deep truths, to live in uncertainty and danger. But Joel’s prophecy gives a glimpse of a society that can bridge the gaps between our imperfect world and God’s world — not a physical change in our circumstances, but a communication of divine understanding and peace. This spiritual power may manifest itself in the visions, dreams, or prophecies described in Joel 2. It may also be manifested as those gifts of the Spirit mentioned in Galatians 5:22-23 “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” Sometimes recognizing the spirit is difficult, but as I’ve thought about Joel’s promise, I’ve been reminded of spiritual manifestations in my own life — a variety of religious experience that expands and grows the more I acknowledge and live by it. In my these experiences might not always appear with apocalyptic drama but are nonetheless strengthening and sustaining: These are revelations of love for people who may be difficult or intimidating, visions of how to use talents or resources to serve the world, hopes for the future that push me forward, comfort in dreams or comfort in human companionship, joy in prayer. And I’m grateful for the outpourings of spirit in the lives of other women in my circle and for the fact that they share these experiences with me. I think of a friend who felt prompted to pray with her father before he passed away the next day, another who glimpsed a deeper vision of God’s plan after a devastating miscarriage, and another who was surrounded by the healing care of friends during a debilitating illness. These are the kinds of experiences that fulfill Joel’s prophecy of spiritual outpourings. Julie Beck said in the October 2008 General Conference , “Without personal revelation, we cannot succeed. If we heed personal revelation, we cannot fail. . . . It was prophesied that in the latter days the Lord would pour out His Spirit upon His handmaids. This will happen as we allow ourselves to be still enough and quiet enough to listen to the voice of the Spirit.” Listening to the words of confirmation to “receive the Holy Ghost,” I can’t know exactly how a new church member will experience the Spirit in her life. But I can know that God has promised to reveal the Spirit to each individual personally, that the Spirit is available to everyone, and that a life of faith is one of learning to recognize that Spirit.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #36 ;   Isaiah 1–6 . The spoil of the poor is in your houses. The spoil of the poor is in your houses. I look around my house as I read this accusation in Isaiah 3:14. My mind wanders through my kitchen cupboards—small and crowded—through my children’s shelves of toys, through closets full of clothing and shoes. By the standards of some Americans, I am not far separated from the poor. But by a global standard, I am surrounded by luxuries that came to me all too cheaply. Does Isaiah speak to me when he asks, “What mean ye…that ye grind the faces of the poor?” (Isaiah 3:15). It is not ironic to me that Isaiah’s question directly precedes his prophetic complaint against the daughters of Zion: they are haughty; they parade themselves, seeking attention. He lists their “ornaments,” “cauls,” “bracelets,” “headbands,” “tablets” (though I think not in reference to Apple—I think), “earrings,” “changeable suits of apparel,” “glasses,” and “fine linen.”(i) Isaiah drives it home again and again: Israel has neglected the poor (“they judge not the fatherless, neither doth the cause of the widow come unto them,” 1:23). They have oppressed the poor, “grind their faces” (3:15). How much of this was done knowingly? How much in blind complicity, as through the wanton consumerism represented by the “daughters of Zion?”(ii) Isaiah beseeches Jerusalem to “relieve the oppressed” (1:17). The relief of the poor has become an issue of politics for many; this is where we must stop and remember: where we are concerned, it is an issue of covenant. Isaiah is speaking to us, isn’t he? Nephi extensively quotes Isaiah in the Book of Mormon because the words of Isaiah will be “of great worth” in the last days (2 Ne. 25:8). On no point is Isaiah more insistent than that we see to the poor and put aside our idols. I have slowly had my eyes opened to the exploitation and enslavement of children, women, and men in the global supply chain of clothing, jewelry, and footwear. In 2016, the U.S. Secretary of Labor wrote that the United States annually imports $124 billion in clothing and footwear. “Before goods make their way to store shelves, they follow a long and winding path through a supply chain—the complexity of which no collar tag can capture.” In this and other industries, “There are an estimated 152 million child laborers, roughly 10 percent of the world’s child population and almost half—73 million children—are used in hazardous work. . . . Worldwide, there are also 25 million adults and children in forced labor.” The clothing industry’s workforce is largely made up of young women, often unskilled migrants, at great risk for exploitation and abuse. It is so hard to know, from the picking of the cotton to the plotting of the seams, how much of my shirt contributed to the oppression of the fatherless (1:17). It is a grim picture, but we are not powerless. If we each focus on our own personal impact, and encourage others to do the same, then “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6). We, the modern daughters of Zion, can wear “beautiful garments” without despoiling the poor. Here are a few actions we can consider in answer to Isaiah’s call to “relieve the oppressed” (1:17). Download the U.S. Department of Labor’s “Sweat and Toil” app , where we can search through lists of goods (raw and finished), or lists of countries of origin, to determine whether our purchase may have been produced with exploitative labor. Buy second-hand. Each second-hand shirt we purchase is one new shirt that didn’t have to be manufactured at all. Upthread old clothes or ask a friend to help! Scale back our consumption. Consider our personal impact on the environment, the destruction of which also disproportionately affects the poor. “The earth is vulnerable, and we are accountable to God for how we treat and use it. Excessive consumption sullies God’s seas; wanton waste blackens His air. The creation groans under the weight of recklessness and indulgence that neglects both the poor earth and the earth’s poor” ( Church Newsroom ).  “Every one loveth gifts, and followeth after rewards,” Isaiah accuses in 1:23. Instead of scrambling to find a Christmas or birthday gift online or at the store, we can give gifts that “relieve the oppressed,” such as a gift certificate through Kiva , or a donation to the International Rescue Committee in the recipient’s name. Educate yourself on the realities and impact of human trafficking in your community at PolarisProject.org . Rely on our own labor as much as possible. Garden, sew, cook, etc. Trade skills with neighbors. This not only prevents exploitation of unseen peoples and wildernesses, it builds community and blesses our bodies. Council within our Relief Societies about how to address the needs of the poor in our stewardship, locally and globally . Attend the temple prayerfully seeking to know what we can do to relieve the poor. Isaiah calls us there, and promises us that, “God will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths” (2:3).  I do not think it is productive to feel guilty about entanglements we were born into, but we will find peace when we strive for awareness and take steps to help. Many of us together can make powerful changes by small means. Isaiah offers a message of hope to us and the world: “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (1:18) (i) I will take a small detour here to emphasize that the sin of the daughters of Zion was not the clothing itself. In fact, in a later, happier chapter, Isaiah calls upon Jerusalem “put on thy beautiful garments!” (Isaiah 52:1—Moroni uses the parallel “Put on thy beautiful garments O Daughter of Zion” in Mor. 10:31). Isaiah is clear that the error of the daughters of Zion is their haughtiness (3:16), only expressed through their clothing and accessories which they use to elevate themselves above the poor and draw attention to themselves. When we speak to our own daughters about their clothing, are we clear that modesty is a matter of the heart? As my daughter and son grow older and begin making choices about their clothing, I want them to ask themselves, “What is my motivation for wearing this outfit?” If their answer is in line with our family values (including humility, respect, and kindness), and if the outfit is appropriate for the activity (practically, culturally), then it’s a go. I can see how it could be helpful for youth to have specific guidelines, but the “heart” approach helps prevent our shade shirts and leggings from turning into our personal Rameumptoms, where we stand in judgment of others. (ii) “Daughters of Zion,” used only 4 times in the OT, refers literally to the female inhabitants of Jerusalem. The expression, “Daughter of Zion,” however, is a poetic personification of Jerusalem and its inhabitants. Although all of the people of Israel are effectively addressed by the title “Daughter of Zion,” and although personifying cities as women is a standard Hebrew device, it is hard to ignore the feminine in use here. I like what Michael Floyd has to say, “This personification generally represents the people’s expression of grief in bad times, or conversely the people’s expression of exultation in good times. On the sociocultural level, this personification reflects the social role of women as leaders of civic lamentation and rejoicing.” (“The Daughter of Zion Goes Fishing in Heaven,” Daughter Zion: Her Portrait, Her Response, ed. Mark Boda, et al. 195.)

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #37 ;  Isaiah 22:22 .  Isaiah 24:21–22 .  Isaiah 25:1–4 ;  32:1–2 .  Isaiah 25:6–9 .  Isaiah 25:8 .  Isaiah 26:19 .  Isaiah 28:16 .  Isaiah 29:4, 9–14, 18, 24 .  Isaiah 30:19–21 .  The prophecies of Isaiah contained in this week’s passages contribute to a rich scriptural tapestry of symbols, in this case, relating to Christ, women, trees and light. In the prophet Zenos’ allegory of the olive tree, the House of Israel is a “mother tree” (Jacob 5:54), who bears fruit through Christ who “shall cause them that come of Jacob to take root: Israel shall blossom and bud, and fill the face of the world with fruit” (Isaiah 27:6). Christ is the Light of the World who brings forth His redemptive power through members of the House of Israel who receive His Word, becoming “children of light” (1 Thessalonians 5:5). In receiving salvation through Him, in a sense, they likewise become light-bearing trees offering an abundance of fruit to their children for generations. Isaiah describes an olive tree whose fruit offers salvation in the Last Days when cities are left desolate. He prophesies, “…there shall be as the shaking of an olive tree” that will cause the righteous to sing and glorify the Lord while the wicked fear His judgment (Isaiah 24:13-17). The shaking refers to plentiful fruit that will fall as Mother Israel gathers her children in preparation for the Second Coming. The fruit of the olive symbolically sustains everlasting light. Anciently, the Israelites were commanded to bring “pure oil olive beaten for the light, to cause the lamp to burn always” into the tabernacle (Exodus 27:20). The olive beaten for light refers to the process of making olive oil by pressing the fruit under heavy stone wheels. President Russell M. Nelson elaborates on this symbol of how the Savior Himself was pressed, transforming the fruit to light. When the mother tree shakes and the olives fall, her fruit gives light to the world through the Savior who was pressed on behalf of the children of the House of Israel (the olives). As a light-bearing tree, the olive is also symbolic of the Tree of Life. In Lehi’s dream, the Word of God leads the righteous to the Tree of Life (1 Nephi 11:25), while in Alma’s teachings, the Word of God planted in the heart of the righteous grows into the Tree (Alma 32). For Alma, as the Word germinates in a swelling motion in the heart, it brings knowledge that begins to expand and enlighten the mind (Alma 32:34). This is a conceptually upward motion as the trunk and branches extend from the heart through the mind, while roots deepen below (Alma 32:37). When the tree is fully grown, the soul has expanded into a tree bearing fruit that is the most white, precious, sweet, and pure above all things (Alma 32:42). Lehi’s tree is often depicted as light. That fruit is the love of God, the “most desirable above all things” (1 Nephi 11:22) and the greatest of all God’s gifts: eternal life (1 Nephi 15:36, Doctrine and Covenants 14:7). When the tree in Alma 32 is fully grown, it likewise “springs up into everlasting life” (Alma 32:41). Through the Savior’s sacrifice, covenant mothers receive an abundance of fruit that brings salvation to their children. Like the mother olive tree, we likewise “dar a luz” (“give to light”–the Spanish term for giving birth). We share that light which originates in Him, just as He spiritually bears us and our children to salvation. With spiritual eyes, we can receive a more complete perspective of our eternal potential as life-bringing trees. Once planted in our hearts, the seed of the Word of God will swell within us, enlightening our minds (Alma 32:34-35) until our souls expand into trees bearing the fruit of eternal life for ourselves and our children. I see a place for our Heavenly Mother in these maternal metaphors. The iron rod guides us to Her, the Tree of Life Herself, offering Her living gifts through her Son. We assume our eternal role of bearing the Light as we feast on God’s love hanging from Her boughs in ever greater measure. Light Bearing Trees:   Lamp Always Lit in the Tabernacle   Olive Tree   Tree of Life   Family Tree of Jesus Christ

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #38 ;  Isaiah 40–49 These heavy chapters begin with God’s words of comfort to His covenant people. We are given to see the end from the beginning—all the crooked byways of the earth will be made passable and humanity will participate in one great theophany. All flesh will see the glory of the One Lord together! (Isaiah 40:5). God’s word is everlasting, while flesh is as fleeting as grass. God is strong—“all nations before him are as nothing” (40:17). But to His Israelite flock, He is the shepherd who gently gathers His lambs to His bosom. The God of these chapters is without equal or parallel. He begins and He is at the end, “the Creator of the ends of the earth, [who] fainteth not, neither is weary” (40:28). His understanding is unsearchable. When even the strength of the young fails, He imparts superhuman strength. This is the God of the promised gathering—“every one that is called by my name” (43:7). There is no God before or after Him. “Beside me there is no Savior” (43:11). He decries the “strange god” (43:12) and the idol. Lest his children find “the Lord of hosts” (44:6) terrifying, He counsels his children, “Fear ye not, neither be afraid” (44:8). The God of Creation and destroyer of counterfeits is the Savior and revelator. This is the Mother God, who follows Her child throughout the entire life cycle (46:3-4). This is also the God who protects from disaster (43:2) and tries by fire, to purify and make strong, for His own purposes. For me, I don’t know about you, these glorious promises and Isaiah’s prophecies of destruction are a lot to deal with mentally and emotionally. One God, one savior, is a simple premise, and in the multifaceted world we live in, there are indeed many crooked paths we need God to make straight. Yet, he does not always do it in a timely or efficient way. I have seen Christ work in a flowing stream of miracles in my life. They have helped me heal by degrees. God’s will for me was not that I be quickly healed from a brain injury, but that I learn and grow in a very gradual fashion. God provides ways and means for His work to be accomplished. I have been promised complete recovery in multiple priesthood blessings, and yet I still hope that this will one day come to pass. God allows us to take the long way, sometimes for the view and sometimes for the survival skills. I have learned that saving does not always mean fixing, even some of the biggest disasters we can face. Jesus is my Savior. I turn to Him for physical strength, relief from physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual pain, and many time-sensitive healing needs. When I am overcome by fatigue, emotional overwhelm, mental burnout, or physical pain, I am not always able to muster the same degree of faith. Intellectually I know that Christ could cause all my pains and troubles to go away instantaneously. I also know that Christ does not necessarily lift us out of dire circumstances miraculously. He is ever and always beside us, in every one of those circumstances. He also gives us helpers. Medicine and surgery and medical breakthroughs and scientific research and counselors and self-reliance and self-education. Friends in our wards and family members. He sends angels and timely coincidences and new connections and avenues we had not considered before. He is our Savior, and He knows how to save us perfectly. There is no other -ology, or -ism, idea or person, who can compare with the all-encompassing depth of the Savior’s atonement and its intimate knowledge of us. It undergirds everything. It is our foundation. It contains the answers to the deepest longings of our souls, and like a treasure, sometimes it must be sought, desperately, pleadingly, and sometimes not. Sometimes, perhaps always in a trillion seen and unseen ways, it rains mercies upon us. If these are not from Jesus, then from whom? “Christ knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer. . . . He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism. Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that He does not also know and recognize . . . on a profound level. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He understands about rape and infertility. He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader. . . . His last recorded words to His disciples were, ‘And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.’ (Matthew 28:20) We know that the world is a dark place sometimes, but we need not walk in darkness. We need Him, and He is ready to come to us if we’ll just open the door and let Him.” Chieko N. Okazaki, Lighten Up . Also, read Elizabeth’s poem, “ Threshing with God, A Psalm of Brain Injury.”

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #39 ;   Isaiah 50–53 . Sometimes, we throw up our arms and give up before we’ve even started with Isaiah. We will never begin to understand the value of Isaiah, if we continue in our ways of learned helplessness. To be pragmatic: get a new translation (go to net.bible.org and you can compare 10 different translations), learn about the historical context, and start. Put in the effort. I sometimes wonder if Nephi liked Isaiah so much because, if we take the time, Isaiah opens all of scripture much more easily. These chapters include the third (Isaiah 50) and fourth (Isaiah 52-53) Songs of the Suffering Servant. These poems are about a servant of YHWH (Yahweh or Jehovah). The context for this writing is the conquer of the Northern Kingdom by Assyria and their potential liberation. The strength of the Assyrian armies superseded that of Israel, beyond that, YHWH tells them that their own sins were at the root of their failure. In 41:8 the Lord tells Israel that they are the servant, and this has been the center of rabbinic interpretation for centuries. Christians have also been interpreting Isaiah in messianic terms for centuries, just not as long. These chapters begin with the Lord reminding us that we are His—even when we sin—both individually and collectively. When all things feel in commotion, this is a poignant reminder that God is all powerful. If we doubt the power of God, the YHWH asks,Is my hand too weak to deliver you?Do I lack the power to rescue you?Look, with a mere shout I can dry up the sea;I can turn streams into a desert…. (50:2 NET)Isaiah then asks the Lord,Was it not you who cut Rahab to pieces,who pierced that monster through?Was it not you who dried up the sea,the waters of the great deep,who made a road in the depths of the seaso that the redeemed might cross over? (51:9 NIV) In the Babylonian creation narrative, Marduk (the head of the Gods the Babylonian equivalent of YHWH) fights against Tiamaat (the Goddess of Chaos who rules the cosmic seas with her monsters: Leviathan—the sea serpent and Rahab—the dragon). Here the God of Israel reminds us that he will always be triumphant over chaos. Chaos need not overtake us, the Lord can make a path for us through the chaos. At those times when we feel that the heavens are silent, or we are questioning, as did Joseph F. Smith, asking God, “Why is it so?” and feeling like “The heavens seem like brass over our heads.”—we can know the answer will come. The timing of the Lord is not always our own, but the Lord will come to us in his time. The children of Israel did not avoid captivity, nor were they delivered quickly, but it would come. Nor need we beat up ourselves for struggling as Elder Neil L. Andersen said in general conference , “This is mortality.” Uncertainty, questions, and struggles are a necessary part of our mortal experience, but we can be sure that the help of the Lord will come. Isaiah promises, Certainly the Lord will console Zion; he will console all her ruins. He will make her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the Garden of the Lord. Happiness and joy will be restored to her, thanksgiving and the sound of music. (51:3 NET) Restoration is not just about knowledge; the gospel is about restoring our whole souls from brokenness to joy, completeness, and our original celestial state. Through Isaiah the Lord likewise promised us added strength in that waiting time: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew [their] strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; [and] they shall walk, and not faint. (40:31 KJV) It wasn’t just the children of Israel—”All we, like sheep, have gone astray.” (53:6 KJV) Sin, despair, and brokenness will be a part of our mortal experience, but they need not last forever. “Awake, awake; put on thy strength, O Zion; put on thy beautiful garments…” (52:1 KJV) Repent when we need to repent and continue to trust in the Lord. Restoration is waiting. As recorded in Mosiah 14 , Abinadi took Isaiah’s words to prophesy of Christ. Christ took all of the bad upon himself and returned good. Surely he has borne our griefs,and carried our sorrows;yet we did esteem him stricken,smitten of God, and afflicted.But he was wounded for our transgressions,he was bruised for our iniquities;the chastisement of our peace was upon him;and with his stripes we are healed. (Mosiah 14:4-5, comp. Isaiah 53) His pain willingly chosen opens the way for our complete healing and redemption, if we believe him. Whether it be individual or collective, our God provides a way through the chaos and leads us to redemption.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #40 ;  Isaiah 54–56  and  63–65 . In the spirit of the book Let Me Tell You My Story , I approach this lesson supplement with my own very personal experience, born of humility, not hubris, for I only have my own knowledge of scriptures as I have likened them unto me, but these are the things as they are. So, forgive the anecdotal nature of this essay. Maybe because I studied literature at BYU, I always get heady and spacey when I read Isaiah. Partly because it is beautiful poetry and because that is combined with powerful prophecy, I am galvanized by its message. But in particular, this chapter 54 is the Isaiah that I love. This is what I’ve held onto in the dark nights of the soul when the candle flickers to fragile. I first became acquainted with this chapter in my single early 30’s. I was taken aback that I hadn’t married, and eventually, I was given a beautiful revelation of a daughter who I would name Allie. In a dream, I received a congratulatory card from one of my brothers for having a daughter named Allie. Then the same week, I stumbled on what would become a favorite poem by Robert Graves, “Allie.” (see this delightful poem at the end.) But before that, I discovered Isaiah in this chapter, as he reached out to a poet’s and a mother’s heart ( Sing, O barren… ). So, what does this have to do with the grand message of the closing chapters of Isaiah, one of the most intellectually and artistically gifted prophets in biblical history, you may be asking yourselves? Well, this. I didn’t learn of this scripture out of a curiosity of literary structure or history of ancient prophets, or doctrinal revelation about the 2nd Coming, but it was given to me when I was at my extremities. When I needed a personal touch from heaven in my hurt as a woman. For years, I had been longing for my companion and children, tired of the single life and all the harassment and confusion that comes with being a long-term dater and a secretary to a pool of male executives (almost all of whom were honorable). I was attractive enough to be chosen to date, or look good at the reception desk, but there was something in my makeup that didn’t seem to jibe with the perfect wife material. I started to get chronic illnesses born of fatigue. I felt used up as a woman for all the wrong reasons. When I was miraculously directed to this chapter, my eyes lighted on these lines and I probably cried when I read the following. Isaiah 54:1 Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child: for more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife, saith the LORD. A second witness of this came when I told my forever single aunt about being given the scripture as comfort, and she said she had been given the same one in her youth. I have since learned that Isaiah’s words were speaking of the “Church,” the Latter-day Saints and would-be-saints who are willing to love and serve God to the very last of their breath. But heroically, it is couched in terms of a mother’s heart as Isaiah’s inspired words reveal the very dear and personal love and reward that await those who endure these last and troubled days (years, decades, etc.). It describes the transformation of a person (individually) or a body of people (Zion) as we try to live worthy of these great promises and repent when we all fall short. And again, JOY! He is speaking in terms of a woman’s sorrow, which is so touching to me. I love that the Savior knows so much of a woman’s heart: her wordless, inherent shame, and burden, whether a biological or a spiritual mother to others. Not all moments are filled with shame or sorrow, but those moments do come. Whether from barrenness or loss of a child, or suffering of children worldwide, or more currently, assault and denigration of women we hear on television. I also love that the Savior heals the shame of one’s own personal sin that breaks a heart as we go through remorse and repentance, whether as individuals or as Zion. His tender mercies and promises can sustain through trials when we seek Him, and sometimes even when we don’t or we can’t. So, this is my story, my personal experience with these scriptures is what I needed to illustrate their worth to my soul as it may apply to others and the great love of our Savior as he feels towards all of us. These words of Isaiah are too beautiful and powerful for my heart not to be overwhelmed, and I want to weep at my Savior’s feet because of them. But it not just for me, never just me. The invitation is extended to all peoples: Isaiah 54:4 Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed: neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame: for thou shalt forget the shame of thy youth, and shalt not remember the reproach of thy widowhood any more.5 For thy Maker is thine husband; the LORD of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel; The God of the whole earth shall he be called.7 For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. 6 For the LORD hath called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. And I did have that daughter at age 36. Prior to her birth, I was told in a priesthood blessing that she was the one of my dreams, and I would have to have patience with her, as Heavenly Father and the Savior had with me. I have joked with my husband that I didn’t think of heaven as needing patience with me, I assumed I was a total delight. Looking back, much patience was needed and much grace was granted. And I have needed that same patience with my own children. And finally, the delightful poem I mentioned in the beginning. The Lord fulfilled his promise of children to me that in part was relayed by the following poem (although I recognize with all my heart that the promise could have waited until eternity, at times wished they had due to health, and I would have been as blessed). As Robert Graves’ poem describes another girl named Allie, so my Allie has loved nature and wildlife and all animals. It is poignant to me that this is so literally fulfilled. “Allie” By Robert Graves Allie, call the birds in, The birds from the sky. Allie calls, Allie sings, Down they all fly. First there came Two white doves Then a sparrow from his nest, Then a clucking bantam hen, Then a robin red-breast. Allie, call the beasts in, The beasts, every one. Allie calls, Allie sings, In they all run. First there came Two black lambs, Then a grunting Berkshire sow, Then a dog without a tail, Then a red and white cow. Allie, call the fish up, The fish from the stream. Allie calls, Allie sings, Up they all swim. First there came Two gold fish, A minnow and a miller’s thumb, Then a pair of loving trout, Then the twisted eels come. Allie, call the children, Children from the green. Allie calls, Allie sings, Soon they run in. First there came Tom and Madge, Kate and I who’ll not forget How we played by the water’s edge Till the April sun set.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #41 ;   Jeremiah. In this lesson, we learn about the prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah lived during a time of wickedness when the people were in complete apostasy. Jeremiah’s efforts to raise a “voice of warning” earned him a lot of persecution as he was rejected, hated by his friends and relatives, beaten and unjustly put in prison. Yet, Jeremiah remained faithful and true to his convictions. God tells Jeremiah that He has made him “a defenced city, and an iron pillar, and brazen walls against the whole land…” (Jeremiah 1: 18). Jeremiah, a person of great faith and personal strength, is presented to us as a role model, somebody’s whose example we should emulate. The teacher’s manual concludes with the instruction to “challenge class members to become, like Jeremiah, an iron pillar for the Lord.” Finding role models like Jeremiah can inspire us to do new things, endure difficult challenges and be our best selves. Role models are important because we see in them something of ourselves while also seeing something we want to do or become. As we read about Jeremiah, we might think: If Jeremiah overcame so much adversity, then I can too . Or: If Jeremiah was able to exercise so much faith, then perhaps I can also. Sometimes, we even learn new ways to accomplish things or new skills that can help us by having a role model whose example we can follow. The ability of role models to inspire us is partially based on our ability to relate to them—our ability to see ourselves in them. Because of this, it would make sense that women and girls are more inspired by female role models. Research confirms this. For example, a recent article stated , “We find that the educational attainment of female students is positively and significantly correlated with the percentage of faculty and professional staff at their high school who are female.” Other research shows that girls who had a role model in the STEM field are much more likely to choose a STEM field themselves. I recently read a paper entitled, “ Someone Like Me Can Be Successful: Do College Students Need Same Gender Role Models? ” The study once again showed that women were more inspired by women role models in their field than by male role models. I wondered what the study would find if it had looked at something just a little different: Someone Like Me Can Be Faithful or Someone Like Me Can Overcome Adversity. If girls with a role model in a STEM field are more likely to choose a STEM focus in their lives, then might girls or even adult women with role models of faithful women be more likely to choose a life of faith themselves? The problem is, of course, that in traditional scripture and even in our current Sunday School and other lessons, there’s a dearth of female role models. While I can be (and often am) inspired by examples of men, how much more might I be moved by female examples? I am impressed by the story of Jeremiah, but I cling to the story of Esther. I love to hear about Joseph Smith, but I long for more information about Emma. In recent years, there has been more acknowledgement of this need for women examples both in official church publications and in books and other works published by others. Examples include the Church’s Daughters in my Kingdom book as well as the Girls Who Choose God or Women in the Scriptures books. These are important steps but we still have a ways to go before women and girls don’t set through most of their Sunday meetings hearing little to no stories and examples of women. The hard truth is that while these books have done a good job of pulling women’s stories from the scriptures to create role models, we actually have very little to work with in terms of female role models in the scriptures. When I feel discouraged about this, I remember that role models don’t all have to be people of the past. In fact, research shows that people who we relate to and identify with can be the most powerful role models of all. While we may look up to Esther in the Old Testament, in truth most of us have little in common with a queen who lived so long ago. What can inspire women and girls today even more than Esther perhaps are women role models in our current church leadership and even local wards—women of faith who we can see and try to emulate now. And fortunately, there is not a dearth of them. So let’s make sure we tell their stories so we can all—women and men—think: Someone like me can be faithful.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #42 ;   Jeremiah 16 ;  23 ;  29 ; and  31 . My husband is not a person who shares my faith. However, there is one key thing we both agree on— we both feel that the most important aspect of spirituality is staying connected to the divine. For me, the divine is my Heavenly Parents and Christ. As my husband always says, if you are connected to the divine, you don’t have to worry about any other decision. And I think that’s what it means to have God’s law written in your heart. For me, frankly, this has more to do with the heart and less to do with the law. Having God’s law written in your heart, I think, means it is so deeply ingrained in us that we naturally default to divine behavior. We are slow to anger. We automatically reach to help. We are aware of others’ needs. So how do we go about getting God ingrained in our hearts? Here’s some ideas, that I think women specifically could try: 1- Get a good’s night sleep. I’m not kidding. I am 100% more patient (i.e. kind) to those around me if I have enough energy in my system to breathe deep a few times. 2- Fill your bucket. Similar to #1— while it is possible to help someone from an empty bucket, it is much more difficult. If you come from a place of abundance (not indulgence), then you have the time, energy, happiness and resources to give to someone else. 3- Cultivate peace. I think this is completed differently for different people. Some people get more peace from reading scriptures, some from music, some from taking a walk. I have one friend who claims heavy metal rock does it for him. I laughed because I just can’t imagine that— but it’s mine to do. But however peace comes, I think it drills access to our hearts in order to let God in. 4- Be humble. I use to visit India because it made me humble. It made me cognizant, quite simply, that I was not God. Sometimes we all forget that we are not one of the Supreme Beings of the Universe. We lecture God on why our lives should go a different way or complain about how things happen. We confuse our view with an eternal view. 5- Be grateful. Nothing like a little gratitude to reboot our perspective. 6- Ask . Quite simply, ask God to be present in your heart.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #43 ;  Ezekiel 34 .  Ezekiel 18:21–32 ,  Ezekiel 37:1–14 ,  Ezekiel 37:15–28 In the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, Ezekiel gives counsel on shepherding or as we now call it ministering. This is an area where I have much learning, growing and practicing to do – so much! I was terrible at doing visiting teaching. I gained an intellectual testimony of visiting teaching but never gained an experiential one (because I rarely did it). I want to change. I want to be a better minister than I was a visiting teacher. I find if I can wrap my mind around a concept and feel it’s significance in my soul, it’s more likely to make its way to my hands and feet (the doing). In my quest to understand ministering, I’ve come across insights and profound wisdom that have become my lighthouse as I try to gain an experiential testimony of being a minister. I barely have a handle on these and am practicing them very imperfectly, and I’d like to share them with you… We Are Not The Shepherd “…should not the shepherds feed the flocks?” (Ezekiel 34:2). Ezekiel teaches that the Lord is The Shepherd and there will be times when the Lord will ask us to be shepherds. These are two very different things – Christ is The Shepherd; as his hands and feet, we are shepherds. My mom had an experience in Relief Society, many years ago, that illuminates this difference. The lesson was on Christ being the Good Shepherd and leaving the flock to save the one. My mom had four teenagers at the time and one of us was really struggling. My mother was likening herself to the Savior and how she has to “leaving” three of her children to rescue the one struggling. A sister in her ward said, “Sister Ostler, the problem with your analogy is you’re not the Shepherd. Christ is. You’re one of the sheep.” It was a profound moment for my mom. She realized that she had gotten it twisted (her words). The Lord was the only one who could save her struggling child. Her part was to learn how to be the best mother she could to all of her children. The Lord is The Shepherd. “…ye my flock, the flock of my pasture, are men, and I am your God, saith the Lord God” (Ezekiel 34:31). The Savior is the one who “…will both search my sheep, and seek them out. As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered; so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day” (Ezekiel 34:11-12). Elder Holland expressed this same sentiment in “The Laborers in the Vineyard” when he said , “…however late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.” The Lord will find us and those who are lost. Saving people is the work of the Godhead. Ministering is our work, the deputized sheep (shepherds). Ministering is hard. It is a higher law. The children of Israel also struggled with ministering to each other. They became selfish and hardhearted. They are rebuked by Ezekiel. He reminds them that as covenant people, they (and we) are to ease each other’s burdens. This is our work. Or as Marley’s Ghost says to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol , “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business.” Boundaried Ministery is Loving Ministery Brene Brown defines boundaries as what’s okay and what’s not okay. She claims that once she started living with boundaries, she became a lot less sweet and a lot more loving. There is nothing loving about overextending ourselves and resentfully ministering because we don’t want to hurt feelings or struggle to say no. Ministering is a life’s work. I can’t do all of it myself. You can’t do all of it yourself. No one can. We have to practice self-care if we are going to be able to sustainably show up for each other. This means saying yes when you can. It means saying no when you can’t. Part of the work will be learning how to discern between the two. Also, we must learn to respect each other’s boundaries. This means learning to not take offense when a sister has drawn a boundary with us or when she tells us no. Go Just Beyond Yourself Ministering will ask us to grow and stretch in uncomfortable and inconvenient ways. Having to show up for someone else in ways that forces us to grow isn’t a boundary violation; it’s the plan of salvation. I learned this lesson from the poet David Whyte . He shares of a time when he was telling a friend that his father was in trouble and that he was likely going to have to give him some money. The friend asks how much he is thinking of giving. Whyte responds. The friends says, “go beyond yourself.” Whyte gives a higher number. The friend repeats, “go beyond yourself.” This continues until Whyte ends up giving his father four times the amount he was originally going to give. This exchange led to Whyte writing the poem “ Just Beyond Yourself. ” The poem begins, Just beyondyourself. It’s whereyou needto be. Half a stepintoself-forgettingand the restrestoredby whatyou’ll meet. Ministering will require us to go just beyond ourselves. This will be deeply uncomfortable and at times even painful, but it is also in that place where we develop our divine attributes. It is in that place where what we lost is sanctified. It is in that place where we walk in step with Christ. Practice Exquisite Mutuality This! THIS! This has changed everything for me. I learned about exquisite mutuality while reading B arking to the Choir by Father Gregory Boyle, or Father G as he’s most commonly known. Father G is the founder of Homeboy Industries . He is essentially the Mother Teresa of the gang world in Los Angeles. He once believed the best exit strategy for gang members was a job; so, he created Homeboy Industries. He now realizes that though a job and life skills are an integral part of a homie’s rehabilitation, what is the most important is a community. It is in a community that we experience a sense of belonging, connection and purpose, which is healing and life-affirming. Exquisite mutuality is when we show up for each other with the intention and purpose of connecting and building a stronger kinship. This is not how I’d been approaching service. I was treating service as something I did to help someone. There was usually a pleasant moment of the recipient expressing gratitude, and I’d leave feeling good about myself. They went their way, and I went mine. I didn’t seek nor attempt to establish kinship. Turns out, I was doing service all wrong. Father G. writes, “Even in service, there is a distance: ‘Service provider…service recipient.’ Service is where we begin, yet it remains the hallway that leads to the ballroom. The ballroom is the place of exquisite mutuality. At Homeboy Industries, I’m not the ‘Great Healer’ and the homeboy over there is in need of my precious healing. Truth be told, we are all in need of healing; we are all a cry for help. The affection of God unfolds when there is no daylight separating us…the measure of our compassion…lies less in our service of those on the margins, and more our willingness to see ourselves in kinship with them. It speaks of a kinship so mutually rich that even the dividing line of service provider/service recipient is erased. We are sent to the margins NOT to make a difference but so that the folks on the margins will make us different.” We don’t minister to make a difference. We minister so that we can be made different. This is what rearranged the furniture in my brain. I needed to realign my thinking. I needed to stop seeing the person I was helping as other than me. I needed to see them as my kin. I also needed to meet this person where they were at with humility, curiosity and compassion. I missed out on what they had to teach me because I was to busy playing the good person. “…our separation is an illusion. God invites us to always live on the edge of eternity, at the corner of kinship and mutuality. We only seek to create a connect of hearts, to show others that they are seen, acknowledged, and embraced in the mutuality of valued” (Boyle). As I try to live the higher law of ministering, I remind myself that I’m simply a deputized sheep who needs to go beyond myself, while maintaining boundaries, so that I can show up at the corner of kinship and mutuality and be the feet and hands of the Lord.

Old Testament Gospel Doctrine Lesson #44 ;  Ezekiel 43:1–12 ;  44:6–9, 23 ,  Ezekiel 47:1, 6–12 ,  Ezekiel 47:2–5 . “. . . I spend much of my personal life trying to heal, which is like saying I spend much of life trying to get free–free from the templates that no longer serve me, free to seek God with an unfettered heart. The temple is both road map and hospital, ambulance and vision-lodge for the wounded pilgrim. It teaches us to search not only for healing but also for The Healer. When we find him, we find all” (Wendy Ulrich The Temple Experience xi). Philadelphia Temple by Jolynn Forman Ezekiel was a Judean taken captive during the early days of Babylon’s assault against Jerusalem. His prophecies date from 593 to 571 BC, all written from the exiled Hebrew community of Tel-abib. During the early years of his exile, Ezekiel directed his prophecies to the remnant inhabitants of Jerusalem, giving them dire warnings to repent, that destruction was imminent. This destruction became reality in 586, when Nebuchadnezzer II finally breached the walls of Jerusalem, sacked the city, and burned Solomon’s temple. It is at this point, when hope seemed lost, that Ezekiel’s visions changed in tone. They turned away from death and warning towards visions of hope. This hope centered around an architectural pattern for a future temple to be rebuilt when the Israelites would return to their native land. How did they know that they would go back home? They didn’t know. But they had been given prophetic promises, and they had faith. And so in this darkest hour when there was no Jerusalem to look toward, Ezekiel recorded his most joyful prophecies. While the physical description of his visionary temple is exhaustively detailed, Ezekiel’s intricate language of sensory images also conveys deeper spiritual truths. His concrete building instructions are mixed and blended with pure emotive symbols, like the river of water that flows from the temple to revive and refresh the landscape. These visions anticipate the literary tradition of apocalyptic texts that can be found throughout ancient scripture. Although the term “apocalypse” is most commonly linked with the Revelation of John, it can be defined as any prophetic literature that brings what is hidden into the light and that conveys information and emotions through sensory images, numbers, and physical experience. Like other apocalyptic texts, Ezekiel’s visions are presented and explained by a heavenly messenger whose ultimate purpose is to convey a glorious resolution of the conflict of good and evil into a state of peace and joy. Other apocalyptic texts include the visions of Daniel, the Revelation of John, and, in the Book of Mormon, the visions of Lehi and Nephi. In these visions, prophets taste the sweetness of the written word of God, hear and see rushing rivers, grasp iron rods, and see stars wheeling in the sky. Numbers, geometric symmetry, and reading or writing as a performative act also figure prominently in Ezekiel’s prophecies. Through these ritual embodiments, we catch a glimpse of God’s promise of salvation. In today’s drily scientific world, Ezekiel’s swirling visions seem foreign or esoteric. It’s rare for a religious leader to speak in these highly symbolic, numerological, or ultra-sensory ways to convey gospel truth. But one place where this does happen, where the experiential visions of Ezekiel and others find a parallel, is in the temple. All ordinances whether in or out of the temple are performed symbols that call upon us to engage our senses: During the sacrament, we eat. At baptism, we are washed. In the temple, these ordinances are extended into further embodied symbols of the conflicts of mortality and the salvation of humankind. In temples, we feast our eyes on visual imagery, are anointed, and clothe ourselves in covenants. In symbolic ritual, we walk the steps from Eden, through mortality, and back to the presence of God, tangibly witnessing our faith in Christ’s saving power. Why do we do this? Why do we follow after the pattern of ancient visions in order to symbolically perform these gospel truths through ritual and ordinances? Why not simply think about them, or write them down in plain moral and rational terms? It’s a question that I can’t really answer. But I do know that sometimes I crave a divinity that goes beyond syllogisms. And don’t we all long for an experiential understanding of God’s love, a tangible witness of spiritual beauty? Much too often, God feels far away. He must have seemed far away to the exiled Israelites in Babylon. They had no homeland, no temple, no tabernacle, no Holy of Holies. And it was at this moment that they most needed Ezekiel’s visions of the symbolic embodiment of God’s love and salvation of humankind. In Ezekiel’s vision, the God of Israel extends his spiritual blessings as a river that floods the countryside, with the temple as the source of those healing waters. This healing goes beyond logical understanding or mere memorization of information. It is a whole body experience, enacting and empowering a living gospel. As we engage in ordinances and temple worship, we can become visionaries like Ezekiel, doers of the Word. In the process, we can find healing and faith.

Gospel Principles Old Testament Lesson #45 ;  Daniel 1 ,  Daniel 3 ,  Daniel 6 ,  Esther 3–5 ;  7–8 The limited numbers of women in scripture means we sometimes get caricatures of women—most frequently the angel or the devil. Women are either perfect, still, and silent on a pedestal or the garish whore of Babylon. Very few female characters in scripture are complex human beings, however, sometimes the nuance of a story shines through. Vashti and Esther are juxtaposed for us to make the devil and the angel comparison, yet a close reading of their narrative offers us much more (in addition to explaining the origin story of the Jewish holiday Purim). At the beginning of Esther’s book, we meet Vashti—the first headstrong and beautiful queen of Ahasuerus. As she and her husband held concurrent parties, she was summoned by the King. (Since women of the court could not appropriately attend the men’s party, she created her own.) Signaling both his wealth and ownership of Vashti, the king wanted to her to show off her royal gem and her great beauty to all the men attending his party. And she refused to come. She had to know the significant implications of speaking out and refusing her husband, yet she does it anyway—perhaps paralleling Esther later saying, “if I perish, I perish.” She refused him, and he was done with her. She lost her position as queen for ignoring his demand. The yes-men surrounding King Ahasuerus coddled him maintaining that he was supporting the authority of all men in their homes by removing the willful and mouthy Vashti from his presence permanently. Only because Vashti acted against the King is there a narrative for Esther. Queen Esther by Minerva Teichert Esther’s narrative is set up with significant comedic elements that heighten the narrative. Initially, Mordecai is the origin of all action in the narrative—contrary to whose name is on the book. He vexes Haman by not bowing down before him. Prejudice kicking in, Haman realizes that he is a Jew and decides to punish Mordecai and all his people in a grand sweep of destruction. Mordecai convinces Esther that only she can save her people as he poignantly asks, “who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14). Esther acts affirmatively. She now has a mission. Even if she cannot see whether or not she will be successful, she knows this is God’s path for her. The only avenue initially open to Esther to influence the King is his visceral reaction to her—she hopes to “find favour in his sight.” (Esther 5:2 KJV ) Though we would hope to see Esther valued for more than her beauty, within the context the king seems incapable. Yet, as women throughout time, Esther used the “favour” found for a purpose. In this instance, she adopts the purpose suggested to her by Mordecai to the benefit of all her people (and to the detriment of Haman). However, she does not just follow Mordecai’s plan. In this moment the action transitions to Esther, she is now the initiator. Esther builds her own plan. Rather than merely going into the king as Mordecai suggested, she asks Mordecai to “gather together all the Jews that are present in Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days, night or day.” (Esther 4:16) She and her women will likewise fast for three days before the banquet for the king and Haman. Only then will she have done her part, and if it is God’s will that she was to perish, she was willing to perish. (4:16) The tension builds between Haman and Mordecai in farcical ways—everything Haman does is the height of irony. Moreover, the irony also applies to Esther. She now plans a party as did Vashti—rather than being the perfect submissive and silent opposite of Vashti, she adopts Vashti’s playbook to manipulate the king. In contrast to Vashti, she is successful. Esther is able to step outside of the role of the beautiful object to an autonomous subject capable of initiating action and saving her people. Like Esther, women throughout history have used the authority given them by the Holy Spirit to move beyond the sphere expected of them. Esther and Daniel both fit into the same genre. Though separated within the biblical text itself, they both offer different tales of royal courts and courtiers and as such offer much for us to consider about our relationships with earthly power and the power of God—especially within our own current politically charged context. Both books lead us to consider those in power and the fallibility of humans. The biblical text does not treat these leaders as infallible beings divinely invested with power and owed allegiance by their subjects, but royalty as very human beings—sometimes capricious, gullible, easily manipulated, and rarely worthy of trust. None of the main characters of these narratives can see the end from the beginning, but they still choose God even if it means their own earthly destruction. Their humility precludes any arrogant assurance that God will spare them. Esther does not expect that she would be successful where Vashti failed, she is prepared to perish. Daniel does not expect to make friends with the lions, but he still prays. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego are willing to give up their lives in the fiery furnace, they will not worship an idol. All of them know that God can save them—”Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace.” But they do not expect that “he will deliver us.” Their decisions are not shrouded in certainty—“But if not…” But even if they perish, they will remain faithful (Daniel 3:17-18).