Womanhood During the Apostolic Ministry.
TABITHA--GLORIFIED HER NEEDLE--THE RESULTS OF
LITTLE ACTS--LYDIA--HER HUMILITY--PHILIP’S FOUR
DAUGHTERS--PHŒBE--PRISCILLA--EUNICE--LOIS--EUDIA--SYNTYCHE--HULDA--
THE HEBREW MAID--TAMAR--MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN--THE AUTHOR OF THE
BIBLE WOMAN’S BEST FRIEND.
We now come to the blessed ministry of women during the Apostolic age.
And the first of these is Tabitha. Her residence was at Joppa. She was
a “disciple,” and Luke renders her name, Tabitha, out of the Aramaic
into the Greek as Dorcas. We further read that she was “full of good
works,” among which that of making clothes for the poor is specifically
mentioned. Tabitha had, without doubt, served Christ with her needle
for many years, and exercised her faith by performing works of love.
But there came a day when the fingers refused longer to ply the
needle, and the heart grew faint, and in weariness she laid aside the
unfinished garment, just to take a little rest, and when the neighbors
and “widows” came in, they quickly saw the flushed cheek, and her
critical condition aroused their anxious solicitude to relieve and care
for and comfort her. The fear of losing her excited and agonized them.
The apprehension of their great loss, in case she should be removed
from them, almost drove the little church at Joppa to distraction.
But, notwithstanding the tender ministry of loving hands and aching
hearts, Tabitha daily grew worse, and finally yielded up her spirit.
“The calm moon looked down while she was dying,
The earth still held her way;
Flowers breathed their perfume, and the wind kept sighing;
Nought seemed to pause or stay.”
Clasp the hands meekly over the still breast, they have no more work
to do; close the weary eyes, they have no more tears to shed; part
the damp tresses, they have no more pain to bear. Closed is the ear to
love’s kind and gentle voice. No anxious care gathers on the marble
brow as you gaze. No throb of pleasure pulsates from the dear, loving
bosom, nor mantling flush mounts the blue-veined temple. Can this be
death? Oh, if beyond death’s swelling flood there was no eternal shore!
If for the struggling bark there were no port of peace! If athwart that
lowering cloud sprang no bright bow of promise! Alas for love if this
were all, and naught beyond the parting at earth’s portals.
The remains of Tabitha were carefully laid in a retired upper chamber.
And now there was hurry and bustle in preparation for the final rites.
Friends were sent for, neighbors were present, the funeral arrangements
were discussed, the mourning procured, the hospitalities of the house
provided for. All was excitement--the loss was not then perceived in
all its greatness. But after the preparations were all made, after the
bustle had subsided, and the watchers had come for the night, then it
was that the friends of Tabitha began to realize what had befallen
them. Now the house seemed so still and sepulchral, though in the heart
of the city, and though its threshold was still trodden by friendly
feet, it seemed so empty. The apartments--how deserted! especially
the room where she struggled and surrendered in the last conflict.
There are the clothes, the garments and unfinished coat, there was the
vacant chair and idle work-basket. During her sickness they had not
so much noticed these things, for they were ever hopeful that these
things might be used or occupied again. But now it can not be, and they
perceive the dreadful vacancy everywhere.
Oh, how dark and cheerless the shadows came down over that home! No
moon or stars have ever shown so dimly--no darkness ever seemed so
utterly dark. The ticking of the clock resounds like bell-strokes all
over the house. Such deep silence! No footsteps now on the stairs, or
in the sick-chamber; no nurse to come and say, “she is not so well,”
and come and ask for you. No, indeed, only the silent watchers move
about with muffled step, and “you may sleep on now and take your rest,”
if you can. Ah, poor bereaved hearts! It will be long ere the sweet
rest you once knew will visit your couch. Slumber will bring again the
scenes through which you have just passed, and you will start from it
but to find them all too real. God pity the mourners after the body of
the loved one lies unburied “in an upper chamber.”
All the members of the Christian congregation of Joppa appear to have
been deeply moved by the loss which they had sustained, and to have
entertained the wish in their hearts, although they did not venture to
express it, that, if it were possible, Tabitha might be recalled to
life, and yet, in sending for Peter, who at this time was at Lydda,
ten miles away, they scarcely expected a miracle, and only desired
that he would address words of consolation to them. Much is already
gained, when they who abide in the house of mourning sincerely desire
the consolations of God’s word spoken through human lips. It was only
after her death that it became known what a treasure she had been to
the church. It is one of the beautiful charms of the Christian life,
that in nearly every congregation there is a Tabitha to be found who
constitutes, as it were, the central point around which the love that
exists in the society, collects. Every love is guided by her hand, and
even when she utters no words, she successfully admonishes others.
Such a woman could not well be spared out of the Joppa church, and so,
with the sunrising, the little congregation despatched two men, who
hastened over the plain of Sharon to Lydda, with a message to Peter,
saying, “Delay not to come to us!” There was haste in the matter. The
body of Tabitha, in accordance with Oriental usage, could not be long
held “in the upper chamber.” Peter seemed to have recognized this, for
he at once “arose and went with them.”
As soon as the Apostle, who had made no delay, had arrived at Joppa,
the elders of the congregation conducted him to the late home, and
to the upper chamber in which the corpse lay. As Peter entered he
saw the widows, on whom the deceased had conferred such benefits,
standing around the bier of Tabitha, weeping, and “shewing the coats
and garments which Dorcas made, while she was with them.” These acts of
benevolence which survived their author, were indeed noble testimonials
of the deceased woman’s love and charity.
After these weeping widows had told out their sorrow and their
gratitude, Peter directed them all to withdraw. Doubtless he made
this request that he could more fully engage in prayer when alone. He
may also have perceived that some were governed by an idle curiosity.
At all events, he did not yet know whether it was the Lord’s will to
restore the deceased woman to life. Hence he desired to be alone with
the Lord, in order to make known to Him the requests of the disciples.
After having poured out his soul in fervent prayer on his knees, Peter
turned toward the body and called to Tabitha, saying, “Arise.” Luke
gives us a graphic description of the scene: at first she opened her
eyes, then, on seeing Peter, rose and sat up, and, at length, when
Peter had given her his hand, stood up.
The Lord having restored Tabitha to life through the prayers of Peter,
the Apostle called to the saints and widows, and presented to them the
woman, who had been raised up by the power of God.
This great miracle, we are further told, produced an extraordinary
effect in Joppa, and was the occasion of many conversions. “Many,” Luke
says, “believed in the Lord.”
Doubtless, Tabitha, when she realized what the Lord had done for her,
for the remainder of her life, said:
“I shall go softly,” since I’ve found
The mighty arm that girds me round
Is gentle, as it’s sure and strong;
“I shall go softly” through the throng
And with compulsion calm and sweet
Lead sinners to the Saviour’s feet.
Tabitha, in her good works and alms-deeds, and in her garments that she
made, is not a fashion-plate, but a model for every Christian woman. We
may learn, in her life, the glorification of little things. She was not
rich, at least we are not told that she was, and yet how she glorified
her needle, until a whole city is moved to bitter weeping at her death.
Her needle brought her unsought fame. Little acts are the elements of
all true greatness. They test our disinterestedness. The heart comes
all out in them. It matters not so much what we have, as to what use we
put that which we have. A man who had made an immense fortune out of a
factory in which its builder had sunk $75,000 and failed, said, “I am
always here to watch the little things, to pick up a bunch of cotton,
to tighten a screw, to turn on a nut, to regulate a machine, to mend a
band, to oil a dry place, and so prevent breakages and stopping of the
work. These little wastes of material and machinery in time will eat up
the profits of any business. These little things I attend to myself. I
can hire men to attend the large things.”
This is the secret of success in every department of business and
walk of life. The principle is equally applicable to women’s work.
Perhaps no class of people ought to look after little things more than
the house-wife. Certainly every woman ought to know that careless
extravagance, and the little wastes in many ways, destroy the profits.
There are a thousand ways in which opportunities for good may be
wasted. Never wait for the evil to increase. “A stitch in time saves
nine,” saves a rent, and, under the well-trained eye of Tabitha, saved
a garment. Heavy doors turn on small hinges. Fortunes turn on pivots.
Look out for small things. They are the atoms, the trifles, that make
up the large things. A stitch is a small thing, but led by the needle
of Dorcas, the garments and coats multiplied.
So of Christian usefulness. The needle in Tabitha’s hand was a very
small instrument, but the deeds it wrought, clothed the widows and
blessed a church. The two mites of the poor widow were a little
sum, but measured by their motive, they were perhaps the largest
contribution ever made to Christian charity. It is said that a tract,
from the hands of a servant girl, led to the conversion of no less than
Richard Baxter. He awoke to a world of usefulness. Among the library
of books he wrote was the “Call to the Unconverted.” It fell into the
hands of Philip Doddridge. It led him to Christ. Doddridge, too, awoke
to a world of usefulness. His “Rise and Progress” was the means of the
awakening of William Wilberforce. A book of his writing led to the
salvation of Leigh Richmond. He wrote the “Dairyman’s Daughter,” that
fell upon the world like a leaf from heaven--all the fruitage of a
single tract from the hand of a maid.
“What is that in thine hand?” the Almighty asked Moses while he kept
Jethro’s flock in the back side of the desert, and Moses said, “A rod,”
a shepherd’s staff, cut out of the thicket near by, with which he
guided his sheep. Any day he might throw it away and cut a better one,
but God said, “With this rod thou shalt save Israel.”
What is that in thine hand, Sarah? Three measures of meal with which I
prepare my dinner. Hasten, knead it, and make cakes upon the hearth,
and angels shall sit at thy table to-day. What is that in thine hand,
Rebekah? A pitcher with which I carry water. Use it in watering the
thirsty camels of Eliezer, and thou shalt be an heir in the house of
Abraham? What is that in thine hand, Miriam? Only a timbrel. Use it
in leading the women of Israel in the song of triumph over Pharaoh’s
hosts. What is that in thine hand, Rahab? Only a scarlet thread. Bind
it in the window, and thou shalt save thyself and household. What is
that in thine hand, poor widow? Only two mites. Give them to God,
and behold, the fame of your riches fills the world. What hast thou,
weeping woman? An alabaster box of ointment. Give it to God. Break it,
and pour it on thy Saviour’s head, and its sweet perfume is a fragrance
in the church till now. What is that in thine hand? A broom. Use it for
God. A broom in the hand of a Christian woman may be as truly used for
His glory, as was the sceptre of David. What is that in thine hand? A
pen. Use it for God. Oh, matchless instrument! Write words of comfort
and sympathy that shall echo around the globe. Oh, can you not find
some poor soul to-day who does not know Jesus? Can you not tell some
wanderer about the Christ? What is in thine hand? Wealth. Consecrate
it now to God. What is in thy mouth? A tongue of eloquence. Use it for
God. The tongue is the mightiest instrument that God ever made. What
is in thine hand? A kindly grasp? Give that to some sad, desponding
soul. We need grit and grace to use the common things in the ordinary
way in the daily occupations of life. Consecrate the pen, the needle,
the tongue, the hands, the feet, and the heart to Jesus. Our Lord gave
dignity to labor; the sweat-beads of honest toil stood on His brow.
This is God’s way of working. He chooses to use the least things--even
things that amount to nothing--to accomplish His work in the salvation
of the race. Use your leisure. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit
the sick, comfort the wretched, spread the gospel far and wide. If you
have nothing else, use your needle, and the garments will multiply,
and the destitutes will be clothed. A poor girl who had nothing but
a sewing machine, used it to aid a feeble church; all her earnings
above her needs were given towards building a house of worship, and
in a year she paid more than a hundred others richer than she. So you
can do if you will. If you but knew it, you have Tabitha’s needle in
your hand--the simple instrumentality with which to do good. When
the pierced hand of our Lord is laid on consecrated needles, on the
ordinary means within our reach, on wealth, on learning, on beauty, on
culture, on every gift and grace in every relation in life, then the
splendor of the millennial dawn will color the eastern sky with its
crimson and gold.
From the beautiful home of Tabitha, in Joppa, the Sacred history runs
on until Lydia, in the city of Philippi, is reached.
While at Troas, Paul had a remarkable vision in the night, of a
man of Macedonia, standing before him and praying, “Come over into
Macedonia, and help us.” How Paul knew this man to be a Macedonian is
not stated. Perhaps he may have frequently seen Macedonian seamen in
Tarsus, his birthplace, which was a flourishing commercial city on the
Mediterranean, or he may have recognized him by his speech or national
dress. This man entreated him, in the vision, to cross over the sea
from Asia into Europe, and come to the aid of the inhabitants of
Macedonia. Paul had never been in Europe, and had no thought of going
there. On the other hand, he had been delivering the decrees issued by
the church council at Jerusalem, through the maritime cities of Asia
Minor, and “assayed to go into Bithynia,” but was restrained by the
Spirit of God. Being thus convinced, he embarked at Troas, taking with
him as fellow-laborers, Silas, Timothy, and Luke.
After a rapid and successful voyage over the peaceful waters of the
Ægean Sea, in a direct course to the north-west, they reached the
island of Samothrace. The next day they proceeded to Neapolis, situated
on the Strymonic Gulf, and a seaport of Thrace. From this point they
continued their journey, probably, on foot. Following the ancient
well-paved road up the steep Symbolum hills, until they reached the
solitary pass through the mountains, at an elevation of 1,600 feet
above the sea. Once through this lonely pass and a magnificent view
is obtained of the plain in which Philippi is located, and of the
Pangæus and Hæmus ranges, which close in the plain to the south-west
and north-east. At one point on the summit of Symbolum one can look
down into Neapolis on the sea, and into Philippi in the plain. From
this point the Apostles descended to the plain below by a yet steeper
road than the ascent out of Neapolis. At length, at the end of a twelve
miles’ jaunt on foot, finds them in “the chief city of that part of
Macedonia,” and they were quite prepared for a good meal and a night’s
rest.
The next morning, being the Sabbath day, the Apostles began to look
about the city for a synagogue. But there was no synagogue in Philippi,
only one of those light, temporary structures, called proseuchæ, which
was merely an enclosure without a roof, and was located on the banks
of the swiftly-rushing Anghista (not the Strymon, as some writers have
it), and so the Apostles hastened “out of the city” to the “river
side,” to the proseuchæ, “where prayer was wont to be made.”
[Illustration: THE CITY BY THE ANGHISTA.]
This place without the city wall was not a solitary locality, secluded
and retired from the endless confusion of city streets, but, on the
contrary, it was a market place, especially set apart for the mountain
clans of the Pangæus and Hæmus ranges, who came down with their pack
animals to trade. No doubt this stream had its fountains high up among
the Hæmus hills, and with great force came rushing down the mountain,
and spreading out in the plain, gave a plentiful supply to man and
beast. It flowed down through the market place; it was within reach of
every child’s pitcher; it was enough for every empty vessel. The small
birds came down thither to drink; the sheep and lambs had trodden down
a little path to its brink. The thirsty beasts of burden, along the
dusty road, knew the way to the stream, with its soft, sweet murmur of
fullness and freedom. The clear, sparkling river must have reminded the
Apostles of the waters of life and salvation, which they were bringing
to these Philippians. This stream sometimes may cease to flow, and
every other may be dry in the days of drought and adversity, but the
heavenly stream whose spring was in Jesus Christ, they well knew, would
never cease to flow. And they also well knew that whosoever drank from
the river issuing from under the threshold of divine grace, should
never thirst.
Amid these surroundings, Paul and his companions sat down in the
proseuchæ, “and spake unto the women” who had already assembled in
the place of prayer. It would seem that there were no Hebrew men in
Philippi, and possibly, for the reason this city was a military, and
not a mercantile centre. Even the women may have been few in number, so
that the speaker could not deliver a formal address, but only engage in
familiar conversation, which could be easier done in a sitting posture,
and in a comparatively free and conversational intercourse, thus
assuming at once the attitude of teachers.
The gracious words which fell from the lips of Paul in this first
attempt to introduce the gospel into Macedonia, are not reported by
Luke, but he tells us that the Lord opened the heart of a woman named
Lydia. There is something very beautiful in this incident, that God
should honor woman with being the first convert in Europe! It was a
man who stood before Paul in his vision, praying, “Come over into
Macedonia and help us,” but it is a woman who is first willing to be
helped. There was, that Sabbath morning, in the proseuchæ, by the
rippling waters of the Anghista, one solitary woman who was in a
special degree, open to the influence of the truth, and who listened
with earnest attention to all that Paul said.
Luke tells us that Lydia was a dealer in purple, and a citizen of
Thyatira, Asia Minor, and, as Thyatira was a Macedonian colony, we
may the more readily understand that circumstances connected with
her trade brought her at this time to Philippi, and was probably
only a temporary resident. Thyatira was celebrated, at a very early
period, for its purple dyes and purple fabrics. The purple color, so
extravagantly valued by the ancients, and even by the Orientals at the
present day, included many shades or tints, from rose-red to sea-green
or blue. Philippi being the military centre of Macedonia, the military
trappings, with all their tinsel and show, made a brisk market for the
purple cloth of Lydia, and, no doubt, she was a woman who prospered in
her business, and was in good circumstances, and, possibly, possessed
of considerable wealth, as she generously offered her home and
hospitality to Paul and his companions.
But now see how the words and acts of this noble woman demonstrates the
genuineness of her faith. She at once, with her household, presents
herself for baptism. While it is quite probable that the baptism was
not performed on the spot, it took place, no doubt, at the first
opportunity. Having become a member of the household of faith, she
addresses the Apostles saying, “If ye have judged me to be faithful,”
that is, judged that I am one that believeth in the Lord, “come into my
house, and abide there.” What gentleness in her language, “If ye have
judged me faithful,” humbly submitting to the experienced judgment of
her religious benefactors, yet urgently inviting the Apostle and all
his companions to enter her house, and remain there as her guests. This
proffered hospitality furnished direct evidence of her love to her
Redeemer, which proceeded from faith, and which manifested itself by
disinterested and kind attentions to His messengers. She supported her
plea by appealing to the judgment which they had themselves pronounced
in her case, and without which they would unquestionably have declined
to baptize her.
That these messengers of the gospel acceded to the request of Lydia,
and entered her house as guests, may be confidently assumed. We also
see with what beautiful fidelity she remained true to Paul and Silas
when they were persecuted.
It is also interesting to notice that through Lydia, indirectly, the
gospel may have been introduced into that very section (Bithynia),
where Paul had been forbidden directly to preach it. Whether she was
one of “those women” who labored with Paul in the gospel at Philippi,
as mentioned afterwards in the Epistle to that place (Phil. iv, 3)
it is impossible to say, but from what we know of her history, it
would be just like her, for, surely such a royal entertainer in true
hospitality, would make a heroic laborer in any gospel field.
We may learn from Lydia’s life that the human heart is closed and
barred by sin, so that divine truth can not enter to enlighten the
mind, direct the will, or renew the spiritual life forces until divine
grace, through operations of the Holy Spirit, opens the heart. When
the Lord opens the heart, conversion is possible, but it is actually
effected only when the heart, like the prepared field, with willingness
receives the seed of divine truth. God calls, and if but few are
chosen, it is simply because men choose not to obey the call. The
Lord opens only the hearts of those for His spiritual kingdom who are
willing to and do accept His conditions.
In the conversion of Lydia we see the Kingdom of Christ in its
incipient state strikingly illustrated. In the parable of the grain of
mustard-seed, Jesus told his disciples that the gospel in its beginning
would be just like that smallest of seeds, but would grow and spread,
and finally succeed. Lydia is only one convert, a lone woman in a
great military camp of a heathen city, and women, socially, in those
days, did not count for much. Humanly speaking, this first European
convert appeared about as insignificant as a grain of mustard-seed. And
yet this apparently insignificant seed produced a rich and precious
harvest in the flourishing congregation of Philippi, in the spread of
the gospel over all Europe, and it will soon cover the whole world.
From Lydia’s candid reception of the gospel, her urgent hospitality,
her unfaltering and continued friendship to the Apostles, her modest
bearing in being accounted worthy of the confidence of her benefactors,
we are led to form a high estimate of her character. Though possessed
of considerable wealth, and, possibly, of social rank, she had
the grace of humility. Her deep humility in the presence of God’s
messengers was a clear and sufficient proof of her humility before God,
and that it was real; that humility, if not already a resident in her
heart, had, with the incoming of divine grace, taken up its abode in
her, and become her very nature; that she actually, like Christ, made
herself of no reputation, especially when persecution came to Paul and
Silas.
When, in the presence of God, lowliness of heart has become, not a
posture we assume for a time, but the very spirit of our life, it will
manifest itself, as it did in Lydia, in all our bearing towards others.
The lesson is one of deep import. The only humility really ours is not
that which we assume in our devotions to God, but that which we carry
with us in our ordinary conduct. The insignificances of the daily
life are the importances of eternity, because they prove what spirit
really possesses us. It is in our most unguarded moments we really show
what we are. To know the humble woman, to know how the humble woman
behaves, you must accept her hospitality as the Apostles accepted the
hospitality of Lydia, and follow her to her home, and into the common
course of daily life.
Humility before God is nothing if not proved in humility before men.
It was when the disciples disputed who should be greatest that Jesus
taught the lesson of humility by washing their feet. And this heavenly
grace runs all through the epistles of Paul, the spiritual father of
Lydia. To the Romans he writes, “In honor preferring one another.”
“Set not your mind on high things, but condescend to those that are
lowly.” “Be not wise in your own conceit.” To the Corinthians he said,
“Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is
not provoked.” These are all the gracious fruits of humility, for
there is no love without humility at its roots. To the Galatians the
Apostle writes, “Through love be servants one of another. Let us not be
desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another.”
To the Ephesians, immediately after the three wonderful chapters on
the heavenly life, he writes, “Therefore, walk with all lowliness
and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love;”
“Giving thanks always, subjecting yourselves one to another in the
fear of Christ.” To the Philippians, “Doing nothing through faction
or vain glory, but in lowliness of mind, each counting others better
than himself. Have the mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who
emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, and humbled Himself.”
And to the Colossians, “Put on a heart of compassion, kindness,
humility, meekness, long-suffering, forbearing one another, and
forgiving each other, even as the Lord forgave you.”
It is in our relation to one another, that the true lowliness of mind
and the heart of humility are to be seen. Our humility before God has
no value but as it prepares us to reveal the humility of Jesus to our
fellow-men. Let us cultivate this beautiful gem of divine grace, which
was developed in such a marked degree in the life of Lydia, the first
European Christian.
But we hasten on in our narrative, and gather up in a group, as one
would gather a handful of flowers, those Women in White Raiment so
briefly mentioned in the Sacred records as not to give us enough of
their history to write upon.
Among these are the unnamed four daughters of Philip the evangelist,
who lived at Cæsarea. These daughters ranked high in the early church.
They possessed the gift of prophetic utterance, and who apparently
gave themselves to the work of teaching. Though no record is left us
of their work, we may well believe their distinguished accomplishments
brought them into contact with many people of that busy seaport city on
the Mediterranean, where people of all nations came and went.
Phœbe of Cenchrea, one of the ports of Corinth. She must have been a
woman of influence, and worthy of confidence and respect. She is not
only commended by Paul, but was also a deaconess in the church at
Cenchrea. On her was conferred the honor of carrying the letter of Paul
from Corinth to Rome. Whatever her errand to Rome may have been, the
independent manner of her going there seems to imply (especially when
we consider the secluded habits of Greek women) that she was a woman of
mature age, and was acting in an official capacity. She was not only a
woman of great energy, but possessed of wealth. She evidently was of
great service to Paul, and he had confidence in her integrity, for he
writes in the very letter of which she was the bearer to the Romans,
“I commend you unto Phœbe our sister, which is a servant of the church
which is at Cenchrea.”
Priscilla, the wife of Aquila, who had fled from Rome, in consequence
of an order of Claudius commanding all Jews to leave Rome. She, with
her husband, came to Corinth. In the days of the Apostle, Corinth was
a place of great mental activity, as well as of commercial enterprise.
Its wealth and magnificence were so celebrated as to be proverbial;
so were the vices and profligacy of its inhabitants. But it was just
the kind of city Paul delighted in carrying the gospel to. Where vice
abounded he would have grace much more abound. Here Priscilla became
acquainted with Paul, and they abode together, and wrought at their
common trade of making the Cilician tent. This woman, while taking
stitches in the haircloth out of which the tents were made, could also
conduct a theological school with no less apt a student than that of
Apollos, already noted for his eloquence, and who was “mighty in the
Scriptures.” But Priscilla, as she heard this eloquent young man, at
once discovered there was something wanting in his ministry. It seemed
to her that Apollos knew only the baptism of John. She knew of a more
excellent way, and so while she was setting stitches, she “expounded
unto him the way of God more perfectly.” O, for more Priscillas, versed
in heavenly lore and skilled to impart it! Priscilla is certainly a
noble example of what a woman in the ordinary walks of life may do for
the church.
[Illustration: CORINTH, THE GATE OF THE PELOPONNESUS.]
Eunice, the mother, and Lois, the grandmother of Timothy, are beautiful
examples of women in the home. These women had such unfeigned faith
in the gospel, and so ably instructed Timothy in the Scriptures,
that this home scene made a deep and lasting impression upon Paul,
and later on, in one of his epistles to Timothy, he writes, “When I
call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt
first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice, ... I put thee
in remembrance (of this excellent home-training, and by reason of its
superior advantage) that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in
thee.”
Euodias (or rather Eudia) and Syntyche, deaconesses in the church at
Philippi. These women afforded Paul active co-operation under difficult
circumstance, and in them, as well as other women of the same class,
is an illustration of what the gospel, in the Apostolic times, did for
women, and also what the women did for the gospel, for the Apostle
expressly states that these women labored with him in the gospel,
besides many other elect women, the detailed mention of whom fills
nearly all of the last chapter of the epistle to the Romans, whose
history, if known, would doubtless be as interesting as the history of
those whose names and acts have been preserved to us for our study and
comfort.
And then there are a host of women whose names are not mentioned,
but who, we have every reason to believe, were numbered with the
Princesses of God, women whose faith and patience in labor clothed them
in White Raiment. Of such we note a few: Noah’s wife and her three
daughters-in-law, who must have exercised the same faith as their
husbands, and who must have been in full sympathy with their labors;
the host of Israelitish women led by Miriam in their song of triumph
over the Lord’s deliverance from Pharaoh’s army; the wife of Manoah,
the mother of Samson, who was twice visited by the angel of the Lord;
Hulda, the prophetess, who lived in the time of King Josiah, to whom
Hilkiah, the high priest, had recourse, when the book of the law was
found, to procure an authoritative opinion, for, doubtless, in her
time she was the most distinguished person for prophetic gifts in
Jerusalem; the captive Hebrew maid in the house of Naaman, the Syrian
general, who knew all about the prophet in Samaria, and had faith to
believe that Elisha would heal him of his leprosy, even though captive
as she was, and in a strange land; in the days of Saul and David, when
returning from the conquests, “the women” who “came out of all the
cities of Israel” to welcome, with tabrets and song, the deliverers of
God’s people.
Perhaps we should not fail to briefly mention Tamar, the daughter of
David, for she was not only a chaste virgin, but was also remarkable
for her extraordinary beauty. Her high sense of honor must ever stand
as a memorial of her virtue, especially when we take into account the
low standard of morality which prevailed in her time.
Added to her beauty, she had domestic accomplishments. It would almost
seem that Tamar was supposed, at least by her perfidious brother Amnon,
to have a peculiar art in baking palatable cakes.
With no suspicion of any wicked design, this beautiful princess, at
her father’s request, goes to the house of her supposed sick brother
to prepare the food she was assured he would relish. So she took the
dough and kneaded it, and then in his presence (for this was a part of
his fancy, as though there was something exquisite in the manner of
performing the work), kneaded it a second time into the form of cakes.
After the cakes were baked, she took them, fresh and crisp, to Amnon
to eat. When she fully realized his wicked designs, she touchingly
remonstrated, and held up to him the infamy of such a crime “in
Israel,” and appealed to his sense of honor, saying, “As for thee, thou
shalt be as one of the fools in Israel.” Her indignation after his
unnatural designs were accomplished, and she had been thrust out, was
even more heroic than her protests. In her agony she snatched a handful
of ashes and threw them on her beautiful hair, then tore her royal
gown, and, clasping her hands upon her head, rushed to and fro through
the streets crying.
While this is one of the most pathetically sad scenes recorded in Bible
history, yet it brings out in a remarkable manner, the virtue and high
honor of womanhood in those rude ages of the world.
But over against this dark background of Amnon’s conduct the careful
home-training of Timothy, under the moulding influence of his mother
Eunice, and his grandmother Lois, shines with a brightness that
reflects great credit. And if such careful home-training was so
far-reaching in its results as to cause Paul, in later years, to remind
Timothy of this training as an inspiration to stir up the gift of God
in him, what shall be said of motherhood and wifehood of the many noble
characters found in the Sacred record? It is a fact that women have
great influence in shaping the lives of men. Who can tell how greatly
womanhood influenced the lives of such men as Enoch, who walked with
God; Noah, whose faith led him to the building of the ark; Abraham,
whose wonderful life of trust has made him the father of the faithful
in all generations of men; Melchizedek, king of Salem and priest of
the most high God; Job, whom adversity could not shake, and who, in
the midst of his calamities, exclaimed, “Though He slay me, yet will
I trust in Him;” Caleb and Joshua, whose confidence in God’s ability
to lead the host of Israel into the promised land, was unwavering
under most trying circumstances; Elijah and Elisha, who stood as the
defences of God’s people amid idolatrous times; the good King Hezekiah,
and his ever faithful counselor, Isaiah, who went up into the Temple
and spread out the insulting letter of Sennacherib, and “prayed and
cried to heaven;” Daniel and his companions, who walked through the
fire and the den of lions, and thus proved their fidelity to truth
and righteousness; Nehemiah, who, by moonlight, viewed the ruins of
the city of his fathers, and then, with wonderful courage, repaired
its broken-down walls and set up its gates that had been burned with
fire; and the great host of women mentioned by Paul, who, through
faith, “received their dead raised to life again,” and others who “were
tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better
resurrection.” Surely such mothers and wives would raise up heroic
men. The Spartan mother told her son, when he started for the war, “to
return with his shield, or upon it.” But the Hebrew women led armies,
subdued kingdoms, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.
Such is the womanhood of the Bible, and while with her companion,
man, she inherited the infirmities brought upon the race in the
transgression, yet she is infinitely in advance of the women living
in lands where the Bible is unknown. Indeed, the condition of Hebrew
women has always presented a marked contrast with heathen women, and
for the reason, while the Bible seeks to elevate them, heathendom has
sought to degrade them. Heathen oppression of womanhood rests upon the
nations where the Bible is not known, like the mountain upon Typho’s
heart. Buddhism presents no personal god. He is “eyeless, handless,
never sad and never glad.” For sinning man there is no pity, for of
all his hundreds of names there is no “Father.” Confucianism, with its
backward gaze, teaches no sin, no Saviour, and only China for heaven.
Mohammedanism has its creeds, prayers, alms, fastings and pilgrimages.
But its creeds were partly written on human bones, its pilgrimages
are corrupt and its formal prayers are to “Allah,” who bears little
resemblance to the Christian’s God. Not censure, but pity, hovers over
these classic religions and the millions who are under the pall of
paganism.
Hark! From far distances voices are calling;
Hushed be earth’s clamor, be silent and hear;
Thrilling the heart with sad cadences falling,
Comes the appeals in their syllables clear,
Knowing no song but the breath of a sigh,
Send o’er the ocean their heart-breaking cry.
Lips that are muffled yet utter their story,
O the sad plea of their multiplied wrongs;
Grim superstition grown ancient and hoary,
Shuts in dim prisons these languishing throngs,
Heathen womanhood, with piteous pleading,
Call to us blindly, their woes interceding.
The non-Christian religions offer no light in life and no hope in
death. The bitter cry of the Hindoo widow’s prayer is, “O God, let no
more women be born in this land.” The horrors of heathenism are unknown
in Christian lands. What makes the difference? We have clearly shown
in these pages that it is the teaching of the Bible, and this one fact
alone stamps the book as divine. It has God for its Author, and, from
Genesis to Revelation, it blesses and elevates women.
Why does paganism oppress womanhood? Because these monstrous systems
are dominated by Satan, and knowing as he must, that woman stands at
the fountain of the race, he poisons and corrupts the very sources of
life. For the truth of this one needs only to compare Christian with
heathen lands. Compare America with its happy Christian homes, with
India in whose cloistered zenanas are millions of widows, many of them
under ten years of age, and doomed to a living death--must sleep on
the ground, feed on herbs, and practice rigid mortification. Before
Christianity entered that land, the horrors of the suttee (the burning
alive of the widow with her dead husband), the sacrificing of infants
to the River Ganges, the slaying of young men and women in Hindu
temples to appease Kali, the god of the soil, the “Car of Juggernaut,”
rolling over hundreds of beings annually, and crushing them to death,
the burning alive of lepers, the hastening of the death of a parent
by the children in carrying the former to the River Ganges and there,
on the banks, filling the afflicted one’s mouth with sand and water
are left to die, the public exhibition of voluntary starvation on the
part of Hindu devotees,--all these terrible practices, once so popular
in India, have passed away since the missionary has planted his foot
upon the soil. To-day none of these things can be found, and India’s
voice, as well as the voice of all Christendom, can go up to God in
praise that these things no longer exist there. And what has taken
place in India, is also fast taking place in China and Africa. Surely,
the Christian woman needs to press her Bible to her heart, and love
it as she loves her God, for, were it not for this blessed book, her
condition would be no better than is the condition of woman in the
lands where Buddhism, Confucianism and Mohammedanism have crushed out
of her all that is worth having, and even denies that she has a soul.
It must be seen that such systems are incapable of elevating womanhood.
The thought uppermost in our mind, when we set out to write these pages
was, to show that God created man and woman as equals, that Christ came
to save our whole humanity, and that Christianity is the true friend
of woman. How beautiful is all this in contrast with the cruelties of
heathenism. See how patiently Jesus talks with a lone woman by Jacob’s
well, how tenderly he speaks to the woman who sobbed out her sorrow
for her sins at His feet, how compassionately He says to the woman for
whose blood her accusers had clamored, after He had silenced them,
“Go, and sin no more.” And, to the credit of head and heart, be it
said, woman has appreciated her Saviour, and in many ways shown her
gratitude. Perhaps there is no more beautiful and touching incident
in the life of our Lord than that recorded by Luke, where women
“ministered unto Him of their substance.”
Finally, if any have been helped to a better understanding and
appreciation of the Bible by the perusal of these pages, and have been
lifted nearer to the heart of God, we shall feel that our labors have
not been in vain.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber and is
entered into the public domain.