Dear Re-readers:

You know the phrase...it’s on coffee mugs, T-shirts, bumper stickers, wall hangings, greeting cards and dozens of memes. It’s been attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt, Amelia Earhart, Anne Boleyn and Marilyn Monroe.

The quote? Well-behaved women seldom make history. It was penned by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich in a 1976 article, “Virtuous Women Found: New England Ministerial Literature, 1668-1735.” 

In 2007 the same feminist historian published a book that critically considers female writers from the 15th through the 20th centuries, most of whom did not plan to make history, but did.

Ulrich’s 1976 article was an analysis of late 17th and early 18th century Puritan sermons delivered on the occasions of weddings, baptisms and funerals. Her research found that the presiding ministers of these services described excellent virtues for men and women using the same categories. Most telling were the eulogies which praised both male and female departed for their prayer, the study of both Scripture and secular readings, church attendance and engagement, good conversation and prolific correspondence. Ulrich argues that Puritan ministers at the turn to the 18th century made little distinction between the sexes regarding the definition of a good and pious life.

Ulrich also suggests that the growing 18th and 19th century repression of Puritan women was not the result of conservative religion, but the power of male vanity forwarded by the growth of secular mercantilism, whereby the wife became the ornament of the “successful” husband. Virtue morphed into the categories of the “‘genteel lady’ of the 18th century and the ‘tender mother’ of the 19th.” [American Quarterly, Vol. 28, No. 1 (Spring, 1976), p.40]

This possible rabbit hole of research opened from my preparation for this past Sunday’s sermon. Before I decided to focus on the “rock of salvation” from the Gospel lesson (Matthew 16.13-20), I spent a great deal of time on the Hebrew Scripture lesson about the birth of Moses (Exodus 1.8-2.10), in which the women are decidedly not well-behaved. Pharaoh, growing in fear of the increasing Hebrew population, orders midwives Shiphrah and Puah to kill all Hebrew baby boys at birth, an order they refuse to carry out. When confronted by Pharaoh at their failure to execute his command, they misbehave again, telling him the lie that Hebrew women are so robust they give birth before the midwives can arrive. 

As you know from the story, Pharaoh calls in the men to slaughter the Hebrew boys; but there are more misbehaving women in the story. Moses’ mother, Jochebed, hides baby Moses from the soldiers in a little floating bassinet. Miriam, Moses’ older sister, stands guard over the floating nursery. Pharaoh’s own daughter finds the baby and, against all palace policy, brings the Hebrew baby into the court as Pharaoh’s grandson. Miriam brokers the employment of Moses’ own mother as the baby’s wet nurse. The entire narrative of the Exodus begins with misbehaving women who make history possible but barely make history. (Did you know the names of the midwives or of Moses’ mother?)

This is where I found Ulrich’s article enlightening. In the years between 1733 and 1800, the Puritans did not change their Bible. But the texts, once read to praise equal qualities of virtue among the sexes, were suddenly reinterpreted to reveal deep gendered differences borne of secular influence. The lens of historic context moves readers to focus on categories previously unseen, not always to the improvement of interpretation.  

Well-behaved women seldom make history, but misbehaving women may also be lost to history when the present context distorts their influence. Each generation must pick up the text again, seeking what may have been overlooked and with full humility regarding each reader’s blind spots.
Keeping my eyes open for misbehaving women, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor