(Romans 16:1-2)
Phoebe speaks:
I simply did what needed doing.
My dear friend Paul commended me for my deacon’s work in the church of Cenchreae, the one mention of me that’s endured. But we had none of the titles that must’ve evolved later. I wanted to bear witness to Jesus, to follow him, and to do his work. You might say he captured my imagination; he became my great happiness.
Anyone who heard about him for more than a day or two knew his focus on letting go of non-essentials. To him, those “fields shining white for the harvest” were more compelling than any synagogue authorities. After all, the man was baptized in a river by a fellow who ate locusts! No formal ritual in the temple for his initiation rite. None of the trappings of tribalism for him! Did he ever ask anyone for a marriage license or a baptismal certificate before he cured them? Did he check up on what church they attended or quiz them on purity codes before they had a conversation?
We tried to shape our priorities like Jesus’. I was Paul’s co-worker and we had much to do. (Even if some of my influence was reining in his large ego and toning down his zeal!) I didn’t even object to his description of me: “a benefactor of many and of myself as well” (16: 1).
My home, Cenchreae was Corinth’s eastern seaport, a place of cross-currents where cultures meet and stories spread. Good place to be! I had managed a household, raised a family and welcomed friends to my home. It seemed a natural step to host Christian communities. Why would I suddenly take a lesser role? Paul certainly wasn’t threatened by me; indeed he welcomed and appreciated all the gifts everyone brought to his magnificent enterprise.[i] We may have been small groups of only forty or so, but we knew we could make tremendous change in the ego-driven, power-hungry, slave-holding society where we lived.
All that may explain why, when Paul asked me to carry his letter, I said, “of course.” I had the means and the wit; I liked adventure and liked carrying good news—why not? What an honor to read his message aloud for the first time.
I may get the press, but I wasn’t the only one. A tomb inscription in Cappadocia describes the less glorious work of more anonymous women: “Here lies the deacon Maria…who according to the words of the apostle raised children, sheltered guests, washed the feet of the saints, and shared her bread with the needy.”[ii] I’d be honored to stand as a representative of so many women, unnamed and unsung, who built that early church, pulled between arguments and grace.
And still they stand. In enlightened parishes this weekend, we’ll hear women’s voices raised. Their homilies are far too infrequent, but true to form, feisty Pheobe gives us the excuse…
[i] Florence Gillman. Women Who Knew Paul (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1992), 41-42.
[ii] Phyllis Zagano, Holy Saturday (New York: Crossroad, 2000), 94.
Excerpt from More Hidden Women of the Gospels by Kathy Coffey, Orbis Press, 800-258-5838, or website: https://orbisbooks.com/
The Grace of Grandparenting
A Day of Prayer for those who Nurture
Led by Kathy Coffey
Let’s celebrate what grandparents do naturally—love the grandkids with God’s own free-from-judgment love, and mirror their beauty. We’ll explore the spirituality that underlies that miraculous process.
Oct. 21—9 to 3
$50 includes lunch
Villa Maria del Mar, Santa Cruz CA
To register: www.vmdm.retreatportal.com
More info: Sister Michelle, vmdm.retreats@snjmuson.org, 204-688-1785
Kathy Coffey 