3.16. Dorcas and Phoebe — Woman's Work

CHAPTER XVI Dorcas and Phoebe — Woman’s Work WOMAN’S work in the Church is no novelty invented by this ingenious, innovating nineteenth century.

It has been seen in various forms during all ages of Christendom, and it may be traced back to noble precedents in New Testament times. Nearly every woman among the early disciples mentioned in the Gospels, the Acts, and the Epistles is associated with some form of Christian service. The primitive churches were hives of industry, and the work carried on in them was largely of such a character that women could take a prominent place in it. For tho most part this consisted in acts of charity done for the benefit of poor and suffering members of the community.

We saw in the case of those who supplied the material wants of our Lord and the twelve that several women of means had been won to the faith. The same fact is apparent in Apostolic times. Dorcas and Phcebe, though not in any way associated together — the one was a Jewess of Palestine in the sphere of St. Peter’s ministry, the other a European Greek lady known to St. Paul — were both of them in circumstances that afforded opportunities for wide influence, and they both used their influence in aiding their fellow-Christians.

1. Dorcas. — The name “ Dorcas,” “^ so familiar to us through those very useful societies in our modem churches which bear it to-day, is only the Greek translation of the Aramaic “ Tabitha,” which was the actual name of the woman disciple at Joppa, whose story is narrated in the Acts of the Apostles. The Septuagint translates the Hebrew equivalent wherever it occurs in the Old Testament as a common noun meaning “ gazelle “ by the same Greek word. Still Dorcas is the familiar name to us of the Western Church, and with that name the story must always be associated.

It was at Joppa, the modern Jaffa, the port for Jerusalem, where Hiram’s cedar for the temple, felled in the forest of Lebanon up in the north, and floated down the coast of the Levant from Tyre, had been landed in the days of Solomon; and where the disobedient prophet Jonah had taken ship for Tarshish. A Christian community had been formed in this busy seaport, no doubt after the pattern of the mother church at Jerusalem. In both places St. James’s ideal of “ pure religion and undefiled before our God and Father “was aimed at, viz, “ to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” 1 Mary the mother of Mark seems to have been a sort of patroness of the Church at Jerusalem. At all events, the brethren used to meet for prayer at her house.’- Dorcas appears to have been a woman of good social position at Joppa; but her service was rendered in the old-fashioned forms of almsgiving and the work of her needle. She is the type of the homeliest, simplest, and yet most directly practical form of woman’s work.

We should do injustice to womankind in general, and to the women of the old Jewish Church in particular, if we took it for granted that the charities which blossomed in the life of such a saint as Dorcas were entirely new flowers of grace quite unknown to the world before the time of Christianity. The woman’s heart must often have prompted the doing of kind deeds to the needy. We may be permitted to suppose that the model housewife Penelope, spinning among her women while her husband Ulysses on his travels, would find some garment to spare for the poor swineherd’s widow. Almsgiving, we know, was about the principal duty of the pious Jew in the time of our Lord.

It takes a prominent place as a manifestation of righteousness in the so-called “ Psalms of Solomon,” a Pharisaic work of the times just before the advent of Christianity. In His directions about almsgiving, with their warning against display, Jesus assumes that the service will be rendered, and describes the ostentatious manner of the Pharisees in performing it.’ The Jews of our own day are very careful to provide for their own poor, and the munificence of wealthy Jews for the benefit of the people generally, including the Gentile population, is one of the conspicuous facts in connection with our modern chai-ities. The churches at Jerusalem and Joppa consisted wholly of Jews; and their Judaism as well as their Christianity would prompt to almsgiving.

Still, while we make full allowance for these facts, not in any degree attempting to minimise them in order to exalt Christianity, but rather honouring them most ungi-udgingly, we may go on and observe how much the gospel of Jesus Christ deepens and quickens the motive for charity. If so much kindness is seen in the world and in Judaism, how much more should be found in the church of which brotherly love growing out of the love of God in Christ is to be the characteristic note! Now here we see how Christ’s rebuke to anxiety is based on reasonable grounds. When He bids us not be anxious for the morrow, because if God feeds the ravens and clothes the lilies with beauty, much more will He provide for His own children, the prudent soul is tempted to exclaim, “ This is very beautiful, but is it practical 1 “ But if we will only follow it out to its ultimate issues, we shall see that the teaching of Jesus is not unpractical. God provides for most of His children by giving them the means of earning their own livelihood; for the unfortunate who have fallen out of the ranks of labour, the needy and helpless, He provides by inspiring sympathy and love in the hearts of their brethren. The 9th of Acts is the correlative of the 12th of Luke. The teaching of Jesus is reasonable because the spirit of Jesus raises up a Dorcas. In a rightly organised Christian church it is impossible for any of the members to perish of hunger and cold. This care for the poor and suffering is the first of Christian duties. The community that could neglect it would prove itself not to be Christian, to be below the Jew, to be scarcely human. But the special charm of Dorcas’s charities is in the fact that she worked for the poor with her own hands.

She is celebrated for her “good works” as well as her “almsdeeds.” If the latter means her gifts the former would point to her personal actions. It is something that people in afiluent circumstances give from their abundance for the assistance of their less fortunate brethren. In this way they escape the terrible condition of a Dives who can pex’mit Lazarus to die at his gate while he clothes himself in purple and fine linen and fares sumptuously every day. And it is more to make some real sacrifice like that of the wealthier members of the Jerusalem Church, who sold their possessions and laid the money at the apostles feet. But the perfection of the service of love is not reached in merely giving, however great the gift may be, and however severe a sacrifice it involves. There is a peculiar grace in undertaking some form of active service — ^in doing as well as giving. It is well that a Peabody should give his money for the poor of London; it is better that a Shaftesbury should devote time angi labour to philanthropic ends. We admire Barnabas for selling his estate; but more for being a son of consolation. The best thing in St. Francis is not that he stripped himself naked and gave up all his property; but the sequel to this when he set forth on his pilgrimage through the world for the benefit of his fellow-men. We honour the great givers; the great workers are worthy of higher honour. Let us remember that Jesus did not content Himself with giving His grace, that He also “ went about doing good.”

Then further it is not without significance that the service rendered by Dorcas was in the form of the good old-fashioned work of the needle. What a picture that is — the widows standing weeping round the bier of the dead woman, holding up the coats and garments that she had made! These are the memorials of her gracious spirit, the certificates of her Christian character. Epitaphs may lie, but deeds speak truly, and theirs is a better sign of the worth of the departed than the most adulatory sentence engraved on a tombstone. And then those deeds of Dorcas were so simple, and the products of them so homely — an old widow’s woollen cloak, a little orphan’s jacket. But the sight of the garments brings tears to the eyes. It is as touching as that of the warrior’s shield and sword laid by his side while he is being borne to the grave, or the trophies he won in battle hung up in a temple. Simple and homely as these things are they speak eloquently to the eye that knows how to read them — “ See this garment.

It was for a very poor woman. Yet how carefully it is sewn! What loving labour it represents! With her own hands good Dorcas had arranged this well-adjusted coat.

These stitches were put in by her own fingers. Examine them. How exact they are! There was no haste about this work, no impatience in the execution of it. And it is all a work of love for the needy.”

There is some danger lest in these more elaborately civilised days we should lose sight of the peculiar worth of woman’s work with the needle. Much that was once a part of feminine handicraft is now done by machinery, the spinning-jenny taking the place of the distaflf and the oldfashioned spinning-wheel, the steam factory and its powerlooms superseding hand-weaving, the sewing-machine in the great clothier’s factory setting aside the use of the needle in the home. We are proud of our scientific progress and the adaptations of invention that go with it. No doubt this is “good for trade,” and therefore a commercial people, such as we are, must greatly benefit by it. It would not be possible for us to exist with our immense population crowded on these little islands without the use of these modern improvements. Mr. Ruskin’s schemes for the encouragement of village industries and the restoration of skilled work of hand are most delightful; but they could never support the millions of Yorkshire and Lancashire.

Still we pay a price for our commercial prosperity.

There was a richness in the industry of the model woman in King Lemuel’s mother’s description of her which we miss in the narrowing of industries to factory methods —“ She layeth her hands to the distafif, And her hands hold the spindle.

She spreadeth out her palm to the poor; Yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.

She is not afraid of the snow for her household; For all her household are clothed with scarlet.

She maketh for herself carpets of tapestry; Her clothing is fine linen and purple.” ^ The very act of plying the needle has a quiet and soothing influence that must be missed in the substitution of factory work. Even the domestic sewing-machine dispels this charm. The strain of attention, the energy expended, the noise of the process — the whirr of wheels and rattle of treadles — all this is very different from the calmness associated with needle-work, that most ancient feminine employment. In deft fingers the needle runs swiftly, but how silently I The busy sewer sits so still that the drowsy hum of the bees round her open window sounds quite loud; she moves so little that the birds lose their fear, and may even venture to alight on the sill. And all the while she works she can think. There is the peculiar advantage of needle-work. The factory “hand” must concentrate her attention on the rushing movement of the machine she is watching. But the woman who is at work with her needle may give all requisite attention to her task and yet have thoughts to spare for other subjects.

She has the advantage of leisure without the ennui of idleness; and if her mind is moving “in maiden meditation fancy-free “ what lovely reveries may be hers! or if intent on graver topics in the mood of II Penseroso, her sole companion “ the cherub Contemplation,” what an opportunity she enjoys for serious musing! All this is impossible with the more absorbing occupations of men. And there is another way in which the advantage goes to woman with her needle. It is possible for her to enjoy a social hour and yet not have to lay aside all the work of life while it lasts; for she can converse and sew at the same time. A man has no such privilege of combining industry with sociability.

Those simple associations of ladies which bear the name of “ Dorcas “ have their justijQ cation. It may be said that they should be superseded now that machinery has introduced more expeditious and economical processes for providing garments for the poor. But if the money for those garments were contributed and the articles purchased the object of the meetings would not be attained. A wise church will not quickly set aside any organisation that helps to maintain its social life, and the advantage of such meetings as these may be said to be threefold. First, they supply the wants of the needy. Second, they afford an opportunity for deeds of kindness in actual work with the hands, a most desirable form of assistance. Third, they develop and maintain the social life of the community.

Here, too, is some justification for that most extravagant and positively wasteful device for raising money in support of churches and charities — the Bazaar. The money is given twice over, first in buying things for sale, then in buying them back at the sale. The people who sell often see their goods sacrificed for less than the materials cost them, not to mention the fact that they have to submit to the uncomplimentary consideration that their time — the many hours spent on the work — counts for no value; and the people who buy carry off armfuls of goods they do not want wherewith to cumber their houses, for the sake of the good cause, or perhaps to comfort the disappointed stall-keepers. Still, a mistake as it is when regarded from the standpoint of the political economist, the institution has this one supreme advantage — it develops the family life of the Christian community that promotes it. And now, if some impatient maiden trained in all the schooling of the day is tempted to despise her needle, let her pause and ask herself whether she may not be slighting one of her best friends. The humble task of darning which often falls to the daughter of the house, and so gives her an opportunity for employing her needle even in these days of machinery, need not be resented by the highly educated young women as unworthy of her culture. It may be that just such a simple occupation with freedom for quiet thinking is the very best thing for her soul-lifa And meanwhile let her reflect that it is tcork, and partakes of the dignity of all true work; and that it is seivice^ a form of ministry, and as such the counterpart of the employment of angels,

All service ranks the same with God; If now, as formerly He trod Paradise, His presence fills Our eaith, each only as God wills Can work — God’s puppets, best and worst. Are we; there is no last nor first “!

It was the abundance of her kindly works that gathered the widows round the body of Dorcas. She had won their hearts by her services, and her death had left a great void. In their distress the Christians at Joppa sent in haste across the plain of Sharon to St. Peter, who was then at Lydda. Obeying the summons he came in to see the moving spectacle of the widows displaying the garments Dorcas had made them. Then the great miracle of the raising of Dorcas follows as the crowning honour for such a beautiful life of long service. It may be said that it was the love she had inspired by her kind deeds that called her back to life.

2. Phonhe.— In the 16th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul commends to his correspondents “ Phoebe our sister, who is a servant of the church at Cenchrese.”

“We shall see later that there are strong reasons for detaching this chapter from the epistle of which it appears as an integral portion in our Bibles, and taking it for a fragment of some other epistle, addressed in all probability to the church at Ephesus, but still written by St. PauL

Then perhaps we should say the object of it was to furnish Phoebe with an introduction to the Ephesians, so that it was one of those “ letters of commendation,” in use among the early Christians, to which the apostle refers on another occasion.

Phoebe is setting forth on a journey with the full cognisance of the church of which she is a member, and hearing their recommendation, or more exactly St. Paul’s. It looks as though this were more than a private undertaking. It would seem to have some connection with the churches and their work. And yet the bond of brotherhood and sisterhood in the primitive churches is so close, that the distinction between private and public almost disappears among them, as it does in the delightful intimacy of family life.

Cenchrese was the port of Corinth, on the Saronic gulf, looking eastward towards Ephesus, and therefore the place through which all the tralfic of the Achaian capital with Asia passed to and fro. Here St. Paul once tarried for a while when he had shorn his head according to Jewish custom, to mark the expiration of a vow.i The saints of Achaia, to whom he addressed the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, in conjunction with the church in the capital, would include those of Cenchreae, and therefore Phcebe.

Phoebe is first described as “our sister.” Thus a member of the Christian community is designated in the affectionate simplicity of primitive times. In using the plural “our,” the apostle may be including the two or three fellow-missionaries who accompanied him on his travels, or he may be writing in the name of the church at Corinth with the associated branch church at Cenchrese.

Then Phoebe is called “ a servant of the church that is at Cenchreae,” and the word translated “servant “ is the Greek diaco?ios, from which our word “deacon” is derived. Hence it has been inferred that Phoebe was a deaconess. On the other hand we must not forget that the Greek word was used in a very general sense in early times, quite apart from official relations. It does not appear as the title of an official before the pastoral epistles — unless the case before us may be cited for that usage earlier. And further, it is not the feminine deaconess (diaconissa), but the masculine, which will serve for either sex, but still which seems to imply that it does not stand for a definite feminine office. If it must be assigned to some church function here we should conclude that this was one open to men and women alike. But nothing of the kind was known in the primitive church. By the time of the Pastoral Epistles the “widows” seem to have been organised into an order. Thus St. Paul writes, “Let none be enrolled as a widow under three-score year old,” &c.; ^ and yet the limit of age points to eleemosynary purposes rather than to service. You would not require a woman to be old before electing her for some work in the church. Still there must have been women to do certain things for their own sex, such as attending on them at their baptism. “We are too much inclined to think these services were relegated to definitely appointed officials from the first. In the simple family life of the early church this would not be thought of. The ministry preceded the office; and later the office grew out of the ministry. In the primitive church much was made of service, little of office. Methods were free and elastic; fluidity had not yet been followed by crystallisation. Before long, we know, there was a definite order of deaconesses in the church. This was so in Bythinia at least, in the reign of Trajan; for Pling writes that he obtained his information concerning the Christians by torturing “two hand-maidens” {ancillse) whom the Christians calls “servants” (ininistree).^ Notice the technical word diaconissa is not employed here. Later the so-called “Apostical Constitutions” refer to the deaconess who must be “a chaste virgin. “^ Qn the other hand, TertuUian writes of “ widows “ and “mothers” being in the order.^ All this is much later and throws no light on the place of Phcebe in the church. But that she did in some very marked way serve her church as a whole, and did not simply minister in private charities like Dorcas, is plainly shown by the apostle’s language. That is all we can say on the subject.

Further, St. Paul adds that she was a “succourer” of many, and also of himself; and the Greek word translated “succourer” is the feminine of one that stands for the Latin patronus, the “ patron.” Phoebe in the church was like a patron among his clients — so familiar to us from Horace. Then she must have been a lady of wealth and influence. Possibly the church met in her house; possibly she supported evangelists and helped to maintain the efficiency of the church and spread its influence. We may compare her with the Countess of Huntingdon in the eighteenth century. The good which such a woman may do by the use of her wealth is incalculable. But now we see that Phoebe is not content to give of her money for the relief of poor members of her church and the support of missionary work, including something for the maintenance of the apostle or perhaps his travelling expenses — for he sustained himself at Corinth by his tent-making; she is about to set forth on a journey to visit some other church, apparently in discharge of some important mission. A courageous, energetic, gifted woman, devoted to the service of the churches. In Phoebe then we have an entirely different type of woman from what we saw in Dorcas. There was room for the quiet almsgiving and the simple service of the needle. But it would be a grievous mistake to suppose that woman’s work must be confined to one limited sphere. To say that larger and more public service is unwomanly and unseemly is but to voice an unreasoning prejudice. In the present day the scope of woman’s work is immensely enlarged. On the School Board and on the Board of Guardians women not only render good service, v ley do distinctly womanly work. There are some duties:n connection with these oflaces which men are decidedly less fitted to discharge than women. And when it comes to the committee and even the public meeting, while many women will shrink from the details of business, and more from the ordeal of the platform, it is not to be ignored that some have a real call to serve in these prominent places which is confirmed by the manifest good they are doing there.

We must not let Dorcas and her old-fashioned ministry be overlooked among the more conspicuous new activities of our day. But honouring Dorcas and the service of the ancient times does not mean refusing honour to Phoebe and the larger ministry of the new age, which is not less truly also woman’s work. These energetic and capable Phcebes are only toD rare among us. Tliey have a right to free opportunities for rendering their noble service.