Imagine yourself being free of a burden after toiling away for generations.
Imagine an end to discrimination.
Imagine an end to prejudice.
Imagine an end to the economic fear that constricts our very air supply.
Imagine clean water, clean air.
Imagine religion as a tool of unity instead of a reflection of one’s political views.
Imagine being free of all of that.
Doesn’t it make you want to dance?
That’s how I see Miriam dancing.
Miriam dances in Exodus 15. And then nothing. Nothing for months, years. They wander around the desert for 40 years. Did Moses have an aversion to asking for directions? This passage from Numbers served to make sure that Miriam took an eternal back seat to Moses the triumphant. It’s kind of like how Mary Magdalene, the only woman to witness the resurrection in all four gospels disappears from the canonical Biblical literature after being a central character. Miriam is another sinner and goes down in history as an afterthought.
Or does she?
A hundred years ago, Harriet Beecher Stowe read between the lines of scripture and saw Miriam’s gentle hands in the partnership with the Midianite women during the long sojourn. She even sees Miriam’s influence in some of the laws attributed to Moses.
Numbers 12 is a fragment of a suppressed story of Miriam, Moses’ dancing sister. Moses, Miriam’s stuttering brother. In Numbers 12, Miriam and Aaron confront brother Moses for marrying a non-Israelite woman, but not only that. Miriam and Aaron criticize Moses for not sharing prophetic leadership. Miriam asks, “Has YHWH spoken only through Moses?” God has clearly spoken through Aaron and Miriam. But Moses is in a sibling rivalry and demands obedience from his kin. We can’t have three candidates for Governor of the Hebrews. God has made an endorsement and it is Moses, says the book of Numbers.
And what is her punishment for being so uppity? Leprosy—making her an unclean outsider, and securing Moses’ sole leadership over the people of Israel. Why isn’t Aaron equally stricken, one wonders? She lives out her days like Tamar, disgraced and no one questions this because it is said that it was by the hand of God. What if the writer of Numbers put that in there as a warning against other uppity women? It should not be lost upon us that the entire people of Israel refuse to continue their journey until Miriam has fulfilled her punishment term.
And like Moses and Aaron, she dies before the people reach the Promised Land.
But what if we remembered her not for her leprosy and her being silenced and relegated to outsider status by the powers of patriarchy in the form of her little brother who stole the spotlight. What if we remembered her as the one who defied Pharaoh’s murderous policy of ethnic cleansing. What if we remembered her as the one who protected her brother and her mother. What if we saw her as the bold prophet that she was. What if we embraced her raucous embodied dancing?
Letty Russell suggested that no better model for ministry would be to be a Miriam.
Remember, the revolution of the Hebrew people was started by and facilitated by women. Moses’ own birth required the civil disobedience of no less than five women. As Exodus opens, we hear a decree from Pharaoh that all male babies need to be killed on the birth stool. The Egyptian Midwives, Shiphrah and Puah defy that order and say, “The Hebrew women are very strong and by the time we get there, the baby has already been born.” Then Moses’ mother, Jochabed puts her baby Moses in a little boat to float him down the river. Big sister Miriam keeps watch and makes sure that the little boat floats right down to the bathing area of Pharaoh’s daughter. She thinks dad is an idiot and adopts Moses on the spot. But she can’t nurse him, so out jumps Miriam from the bushes, declaring that she knows a Hebrew mother that would nurse him. It’ll cost you. So Pharaoh’s daughter pays their mother to nurse Miriam’s little brother. Don’t you love the conspiracy? Of course Miriam leads the people in a dance. She is the leader of the people, as much if not more than Moses who disappeared for 40 years. Phyllis Trible suggested, “If Pharaoh had recognized the power of women, he might well have reversed his decree and had daughters killed rather than sons.”
But patriarchy sought to minimize her role as the story continues. Sister Rahab will become a crucial figure in the journey to the Promised Land. But Miriam is a lost figure.
But there are echoes of Miriam. The Prophet Micah (6:4) lists Miriam, Aaron and Moses as equal leaders of the Hebrew people at the time of their liberation from slavery.
When I think of Miriam, I think of a prophet who wanted to help the people believe in themselves. I think of a person who let the spirit move through her and encouraged the people to feel that spirit as well. When all seemed lost, I see Miriam holding an impromptu drum circle—connecting the people with the power that comes not only from their minds and their spirits, but felt in their very bones and joints.
She reminds me of Baby Suggs in Toni Morrison’s book Beloved. Like Jesus did in the Sermon on the Mount, she gathers her congregation and delivers this powerful Sermon in the Clearing.
"She did not tell them to clean up their lives or to go and sin no more. She did not tell them they were the blessed of the earth, its inheriting meek or its glory bound pure.
"She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine. That if they could not see it, they would not have it.
"'Here,' she said, 'in this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. And all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver--love it, love it, and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet to draw free air. More than your life-holding womb and your life-giving private parts, hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize.' Saying no more, she stood up then and danced with her twisted hip the rest of what her heart had to say while the others opened their mouths and gave her the music. Long notes held until the four-part harmony was perfect enough for their deeply loved flesh." (88-89)
What do you love? To what will you dance? What liberation? What freedom demands your dancing? What triumph elicits a joyful exuberant unorthodox manifesto of movement?
If you can tap into that place of freedom before you have been brought down by the powers and principalities of this world, where you can speak your truth and know that God is in you leading you and your people toward the Promised Land of freedom and integrity and dignity, then you will be channeling Miriam. Miriam, the Hebrew name for Mary, the one who gives birth to the ultimate freedom in Jesus Christ.
Embrace your inner Miriam. Remember Miriam, but don’t simply remember her as Moses’ dancing sister. Remember her as the embodiment of what we seek to be. The one who sets free, tells the truth, smuggles hope from despair and reveals the true nature of God. Be bold enough, sisters and brothers, to dance with Miriam today and every day.