Episode 1 Dear #MeToo from #UsToo..."Hagar, A slave girl forced to become a surrogate mother"

 This episode features a dramatic reading of Hagar’s story from the host's book, "Dear #MeToo from #UsToo: Letters from Women Silenced in the Scriptures". Through her voice, we hear the journey of a woman used, cast aside, and forced into the wilderness—yet seen and sustained by God. Hagar’s story reminds us that even in silence and suffering, the God who sees is present, offering hope, identity, and purpose.   

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:18

Stories of exploitation. Stories of power. Stories of young women and girls whose voices have been ignored for long. And then not believed when her. Hello. This is Reverend Dr. Mary J. Fairley. I'm a dual minister, dual ordained minister with master degrees in education and divinity, as well as an honorary doctrine in Old Testament studies. I'm a certified rape victim advocate and a longtime advocate for those who have experienced sexual abuse. I currently serve as an associate pastor and congregational care coordinator at a large church in the Chicagoland area. I am also a retired Chicago public school teacher, as well as a wife, mother, and grandmother. And I am a victim and survivor of sexual abuse. At my core, I identify as a womaness committed to lifting voices, telling truth, and creating space for healing and wholeness. Several years ago, when the likes of Hollywood producer director Harry Weinstein was accused of sexual impropriety with women in the movie industry, the testimony of actresses and then the eventual trial and sentencing of Weinstein and many others in that industry set off a cry throughout the country by victims of sexual abuse who identified themselves as hashtag me too. But abuse of power is ancient, the misuse of bodies is ancient. The silencing of women is ancient. And so, in light of the me too, hashtag me too movement that swept our nation and even countries around the world, I went back to the scriptures and reread the stories of women and girls who too were taken advantage of, who too were abused and often blamed for their participation. And although their stories remained ambiguous, with most of the scriptures providing vague patriarchal accounts, I decided to use my voice to be their voice. And so I wrote a book entitled Dear Hashtag MeToo. From hashtag us2 women silence in the scripture. It consists of fictionalized letters based on biblical stories of women who were victims of sexual improprieties, but whose side of the story were never heard. The compilation of letters found in dear hashtag MeToo from hashtag us2 could have been written by these women who lived in a time where they were considered as property to be used at the will and whim of men. Not much different from apparently what others believe today. Someone once said there are two sides to every story, then there's the truth. These letters relay stories of exploitation, stories of power misused, stories of women whose voices were too overlooked and ignored. Abuse of power is ancient. Silencing women is ancient. Shame being assigned to victims is ancient. But so is God's justice, so is divine compassion, so is the God who sees. So in this season, instead of commentary, I am choosing solidarity. I am not reading these letters to sensationalize. I am not reading these letters to accuse. I am reading these letters to remember. We just must keep moving forward. If these conversations are tender for you, please listen gently. If you have never had to think about these realities before, listen humbly and without judgment. I invite you though to listen differently. Not as distant history, but in solidarity with those who would say today if they could. So Sarai said to Abram, See now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing children. Please go into my maid. Perhaps I shall obtain a child by her. And Abram heeded the voice of Sarai. Then Sarai, Abram's wife, took Hagar, her maid, the Egyptian, and gave her to her husband, Abram, to be his wife. After Abram had dwelt ten years in the land of Canaan. So he went into Hagar and she conceived. And when she saw that she had conceived, her mistress became despised in her eyes. Then Sarai said to Abram, My wrong be upon you. I gave my maiden to your embrace, and when she saw that she had conceived, I became despised in her eyes. The Lord judge between you and me. So Abram said to Sarai, Indeed, your maid is in your hand. Do to her as you please. And when Sarai dealt harshly with her, she fled from her presence. Now the angel of the Lord found her by a spring of water in the wilderness, by the spring on the way to Shore. And he said, Hagar, Sarai's maid, where have you come from and where are you going? She said, I am fleeing from the presence of my mistress Sarai. The angel of the Lord said to her, Return to your mistress and submit yourself under her hand. Then the angel of the Lord said to her, I will multiply your descendants exceedingly, so that they shall not be counted for multitude. The angel of the Lord said to her, Behold, you are with child, and you shall bear a son. You shall call his name Ishmael, meaning the Lord has heard your affliction. He shall be a wild man, his hand shall be against every man, and every man's hand against him. He shall dwell in the presence of his brethren. Then she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her. Therefore, the well was called Vir La Hairo. Observe, it is between Kadesh and the Red. So Hagar bore Abram a son. And Abram named his son Hagar bore Ishmael. So the child grew and was weaned. And Abraham made a great feast on the same day that Isaac was weaned. And Sarah saw the son of Hagar, the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, scoffing. Therefore she said to Abraham, Cast out this bondwoman and her son. For the son of this bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, namely with Isaac. And the matter was very displeasing in Abraham's sight because of his son. But God said to Abraham, do not let it be displeasing in your sight because of the land or because of your bondwoman. Whatever Sarah has said to you, listen to her voice, for in Isaac your seed shall be called. Yet I will also make a nation of the son of the bondwoman, because he is your seed. So Abraham rose early in the morning and took bread and skins of water, and putting it on her shoulder, he gave it and the boy to Hagar and sent her away. Then she departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba, and the water in the skin was used up. And she placed the boy under one of the shrubs. Then she went and sat down across from him at a distance of about four shots. So she said to herself, Let me not see the death of a boy. So she sat opposite him and lifted her voice and wept. And God heard the voice of the lad. And then the angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven and said, What ails you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heard the voice of the lad where he is. Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him with your hand, for I will make him a great nation. Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water, and she went and filled the skin with water and gave the lad a drink. So God was with the lad and he grew and dwelt in the wilderness and became an archer. He dwelt in the wilderness of Paman, and his mother took the wife for him from the land of Egypt. The gods lever. Dear hashtag me2. I was born in Egypt on the continent of Africa. I was one of the hundreds of daughters of the Pharaoh. Virgins like myself were often sacrificed to appease the Egyptian gods. So, when my father gifted me as a handmaid to some travelers that had passed through our kingdom, I welcomed the opportunity to leave. I became very close to my mistress. As her handmaid, I tended to and assisted her with her personal and household needs. Most of the time, she treated me like her daughter. I participated in many of the family's activities. Kindness was all I could ever expect to be rewarded, as foreigners and women could not inherit property or head a household. I always did whatever my mistress told me. She could be cruel sometimes if you angered her. Her husband, on the other hand, was a gentle spirit. He was always patient and very kind to me. He was like a father to me and many of the other slaves, whom he never mistreated. As my mistress's personal handmaid, I had privileges the other slaves did not. I was even allowed to be present during the prayers made to their God Jehovah, during which time I learned of his love for my master and his people. I had been with them now for a while. My mistress had been trying to decide who I would marry as I was becoming a young woman. And there were several possible prospects for a husband in the compound. Then out of nowhere, my mistress began to talk to me about bearing a child for her and my master, as she was still barren. Being inexperienced in these matters, I was afraid but willing to do what my mistress instructed. Even though I would become wife to my master, who was much older than me, it also meant that I was to be included in God Jehovah's blessing of my master and mistress with a child. It wasn't long after that, after several visits in my master's tent, that my monthly flow ceased. My mistress informed me it was a sign that I was with child. The three of us were so happy. At last my master would be a father. I continued to sleep in his tent to be certain I had been seen. And because, I dare say, we enjoyed each other. I believe it was because of those additional nights I slept in my master's tent, coupled with my new status and condition that was eventually noticed by all in our camp, that my mistress began to become envious and jealous of me. And if I am to be honest, it was for good reason. I was her husband's new younger wife, carrying his firstborn child. What older woman wouldn't be jealous? And of course, I didn't help matters. I had my own handmaid to assist me now. I was a mistress now, and even though the first wife still had the final say over most things, I was in charge of what went on in my tents. I was about three months away from my delivery when my master returned from doing some trading with some merchants who had passed through our compounds. My maid was among the first to meet him and was given the most beautiful, colorful silks to bring to me. I wrapped them around myself and was singing and dancing and swaying as I showed them off to the other women. When suddenly, out of nowhere, my mistress runs up and snatches the fabric from around me, causing me to lose my balance and fall while ripping the garment in the process. I jumped up and went after her, and an ugly fight ensued. The camp was in an uproar amid the screaming and scratching and vicious words we attacked each other with. She demanded I leave. I ran away promising not to return, vowing that she would never see the child I was carrying. I ran off into the desert, having nowhere to go and nothing to eat or drink. I thought I would surely die. And I was so upset that I really didn't care. When out of nowhere, a man dressed in linen appeared, gave me water and bread to eat. He spoke so kindly to me and seemed to know everything I was going through. He said that I should name my soon-to-be-born son, Ishmael. And for listening to me. I must have gone to sleep, for when I awakened the sun was setting and the man was gone. I gathered myself and made my way back to our compound, heading directly toward my tent. The next day, my mistress and I apologized to each other. And not long after that, I gave birth to my son, who my master and mistress agreed would be named Ishmael. I lived with my master and mistress until my son was about to enter manhood. Amazingly, my mistress, who was by now 90 years old, became pregnant. Feared that my son would inherit her husband's property, coupled with the ongoing jealousy she harbored, caused her again to turn against me. And it wasn't too long before my master decided that I should take my son and leave for good. He gave us food, water, camels, and sent some servants with us, along with directions to return to my home. My master weeping kissed his son Ishmael, and we said our goodbyes. I could not believe this was happening. After all I had done for them, putting my own life aside, becoming the wife of a man who could have been my father, giving away the child I had carried for nine months to them, to my mistress, to my master, only to have them reject my son and me. As if we were some defective sheep that had been purchased and now return for a refund. Except there was no complication. For me or my son. We left with barely anything to those who were, we thought, our family. We traveled for a while and soon ran out of food and water. Most of the servants abandoned us, and I thought my son and I would die in the desert. We found a cave to cover us from the sun, and I instructed my son to stay there while I went to look for water. I tripped over a rock and fell and twisted my ankle, cried out in pain, and then I just began to weep for the way things had turned out. As I went, I heard a voice and was frightened to look up and see the same man that had come before to me when I had fled pregnant into the desert. He told me not to be afraid to take my son and continue the way I had started. He said that Jehovah God was going to bless him and that from him would come a great nation. As I got up to grab hold of him, in thanks, I saw a well. He became a great help to everyone. The men treated him like a son, and he was eager to learn. We discovered that we were not far from my home in Egypt. The women often traveled there to trade, they told us. My son and I joined them on one trip and ended up staying there for several months. During that time, I was able to find a suitable wife for him. They had many sons and daughters. What God had promised, my master, came to pass. As Jehovah God had said, do not be distressed about the boy and your slave woman. I will make the son of the slave into a nation also, because he is your offspring. This is yours faithfully. Haggabh. P.S. The nation that God promised would come from the loins of my son was realized, and Ishmael became a patriarch and the forefather of the great prophet Muhammad. Hagar's story reminds us that even in silence and suffering, the God who sees his presence offered hope, identity, and purpose. Hagar was not the mistake. She was the evidence. Evidence of what happens when power believes it is entitled to a woman's body. And yet, even in this, God starved, God seals, and God knows. If you enjoyed this podcast, please rate and review it, as it will help others as yourself find this show and find value from it as well. If you would like to contact me, please DM me at dearme2 at gmail.com with your information. And I will reach back out to you. Please subscribe and tune in again next Wednesday for our next episode of Silence No More. Shalom, you can see that.