The First Woman – Miriam’s Story
By Paula Gooder
My name is Miriam. I come from Sepphoris in Galilee where I live with my family. We’re fish traders. It’s a good life. Selling fish to the Romans turns a steady profit. The money is good. The weather is glorious – rarely too hot or too cold. Our life is peaceful. We in Sepphoris know what’s good for us: we’re loyal to Rome and Rome leaves us alone. Not like those mad fanatics in the hills. They’ll get themselves killed one day, mark my words.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to see the back of those Romans as much as anyone. When the Messiah comes (and I know he will), I’ll be the first to cheer on his army as they kick out the Romans. But until he does come, I’ll keep my head down and mind my own business. I’ll leave the Romans alone and hope they leave me alone. That way no harm could possibly come to anyone … could it?
This year, like every year, we’ve come to Jerusalem for the Passover. Us and most of the rest of Galilee. I love it and hate it all at the same time. I love the excitement and the expectation; I hate the smell and the jostling. I love the togetherness of us all in the same place for the same reason; hate the fights that erupt at a moment’s notice. I love going to the Temple to meet my God; I hate being pushed out of the way by those people who think they’ve a better right to be there than I have.
I especially love that moment when all the crowds who have been travelling from north and south and east and west join together as we stream into Jerusalem. And as we go we sing. We sing as though our hearts would burst within in us. We sing the ancient tunes of the psalms, voices of strangers mingling together, weaving us together as one as we sing our way into the Holy City, the City of God. One of my favourites of these psalms has always been ‘The Song of Victory’: ‘O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good: his steadfast love endures for ever. When we pilgrims sing it, the sound of it ripples backwards and forwards down the long line of people: ‘His steadfast love endures for ever .…. endures for ever … for ever … and ever … and ever.
This year we started singing that psalm, my favourite psalm, just as we got to Bethany. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. It’s a psalm all about a king – a king who really existed. When we sing this
psalm, I love to imagine him, weary and bruised from battle, coming to Jerusalem exhausted but quietly triumphant. Riding down the very road I’m on now, remembering the struggle and the battle and how he was nearly lost but how the steadfast love of the Lord really does endure for ever. And he was saved. And how the priests would stream out of the Temple to greet him singing, Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD’- and there would be joy and thanksgiving everywhere. One day one day we’ll sing this for real when the Messiah, our new king, comes. When he’s driven the Romans out and there’s peace and justice everywhere, then we’ll sing this with all our might. ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD.’
I was thinking about that – as I always do on the way to Jerusalem when two people brought a donkey, and a man got on it. It was strange, almost as though he’d expected it somehow. He rode it – just like I always imagined the king would have done – except that it was a donkey and not that impressive. The crowd parted for a moment and I recognized some of them around him from the fish market back home. There was Peter and his brother – the quiet one (I think his name was Andrew). And Zebedee’s boys who’d upped and offed a few years ago leaving their poor father to do all the work. I heard that they’d gone off after one of those wannabe Messiah types. Then I saw the man on the donkey himself. He should have looked ridiculous but somehow he didn’t. He looked – well .. right. Kingly and gentle, powerful and caring all rolled into one. Just like I imagined steadfast love would look.
Someone pushed a branch into my hand as we got close to the end of the psalm. I found myself singing and waving my branch, ‘Save us, Hosanna! Save us.’ All around me people were doing the same, singing directly to the man on the donkey as though our very lives depended on it: ‘Save us, Hosanna! Save us. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD.’ In that moment it felt as though he really could – save us, that is.
He couldn’t be The One, could he? No, of course not. The Romans are all around us. Look at them twitching for the merest chance to draw their swords. In any case, he doesn’t look the part – not even approaching magnificent enough to be a proper Messiah. And the priests haven’t come out of the Temple to greet him. If it was him, they’d know, wouldn’t they? Priests are trained to recognize the things of God. If he really was the Messiah they’d know and they’d tell us. Then we’d all know. No Messiah would leave it to chance, would they?
I kept hold of my branch, just in case. Just in case the priests suddenly came to meet him like they ought to. But nothing happened. No one came. The moment went just as quickly as it had arrived. I let my branch fall to the ground, strangely disappointed. He wasn’t anything like I’d hoped the Messiah would be and yet … and yet I couldn’t help thinking that if the Messiah comes – when the Messiah comes wouldn’t the world be so much better if, instead of being magnificent and grand, powerful and splendid, he was like this man: steadfast love in human form. We came to the end of the psalm, the final verse echoing off the walls of the city: ‘O give thanks to the LORD for he is good: his steadfast love endures for ever … endures for ever … for ever … and ever … and ever.’
Paula Gooder, theologian, is one of the UK’s leading biblical scholars. She is Canon Chancellor of St Paul’s Cathedral in London, and Lay Reader. Many of her lectures are available on YouTube.Paula Gooder uses her extensive biblical expertise to retell the events of the Crucifixion, resurrection and Ascension through the eyes of nine female characters she imagines accompanying Jesus during these momentous days.The First Woman – Miriam’s Story is from the collection.
Lenten Calendar Suggestion
Compliment 3 people today.