If men get into a fight with one another, and the wife of one intervenes to rescue her husband from the grip of his opponent by reaching out and seizing his genitals, you shall cut off her hand; show no pity.
Wait what? This is perhaps the weirdest sentence I’ve come across in Scripture thus far. And while I’m not going to spend much time reflecting on it, I do want to pause to consider the context and purpose of its inclusion in Holy Scripture. I absolutely believe Scripture is inspired by God, and a living Word. I also believe it was written by men at a time when this warning was appropriate. At least in my circle of wives, this is not a common way of resolving disputes between our husbands. I believe my hand is safe for now.
In the midst of this morning’s readings, there is also an admonition that because God is always with the people, they must keep their camp holy. This section, rather than the wifely interventions, is the part that Thomas Merton’s accompanying reflection addresses. Merton writes about solitude as a way to make ourselves holy, a way that we rise above everything that is not God.
He writes, “Solitude is not found so much by looking outside the boundaries of your dwelling, as by staying within. Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for solitude in the present, you will never find it.” Yes. Yes. Yes.
I needed to hear that so badly, for a host of reasons. I’m embarking on a writing project, requiring more organization and thought than my morning 25 minute prayer and reflection time would allow. Yesterday, I was imagining taking some time to escape somewhere to write. And while I may still do that, I want to be incredibly careful that I’m not seeking a stillness or silence that cannot be found outside me; it needs to start inside me. Instead of fleeing to find stillness and solitude, I commit to trying to create a peaceful solitude at home, by creating a peaceful solitude inside.
Yesterday was a perfect day to want to flee, but also a perfect day to reflect on solitude. My loved one awoke early and started self-medicating well before 7AM. At one point they yelled sitting on the outside porch – full-on yelled, for some reason unknown to me. I went outside suggesting they needed to stop yelling, as it wasn’t even 7:00. Their surly defiant response drew out the ugly in me, and I suggested that I might call the police if they continued to yell and disturb the peace. My intent was to dampen their loudness, but the threat of the police triggered all sorts of drama that continued all day. This was all documented on their social media page, complete with threats to us, and the resurrection of claims of abuse at our hands.
After about an hour, they left the house in their pajamas, stopped for more beer, and took the train downtown, yelling and commenting as they went. Again, this was documented on their social media page. We’ve been blocked from their page, but have friends that watch and report. We called the mental health crisis line, just so they knew in case other calls came in, and also called the police. We didn’t want any altercation downtown to be met with guns drawn.
It was a long day, with reports coming in all day, worrying all day. Luckily I had a good amount of physical labor at work, and mostly didn’t fret. Towards the end of the day, they returned to the house, and closed themselves in their room. Now 24 hours after the start of that crisis, I haven’t seen them, and I’m a little worried about what today will hold. If history predicts, we’ll continue with this sort of crisis until they are deemed sick enough to be detained.
Back to solitude. It is exceedingly difficult to imagine solitude in a house where this drama is percolating. But it’s also critical to find. To find it right here. Despite the drama.
Back to the meddling wives. I think it’s fascinating that the same 5 chapters of Deuteronomy can contain such depth about holiness of space and weirdness about cutting off a wife’s hand. Coming upon these dichotomies, makes me even more convinced that there is great Truth in scripture, but that Truth gets lost when one focuses on proving it’s true or literal.
This morning I’m thinking about the silence, stillness and solitude that I have within, and how I need to practice finding it in my every day. Especially here and now.
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