Vol. 27, No. 1 |
Spring (April-June) 2003 |
25 Years in the Garden
by Jeanette Stokes
Durham, NC: The Resource Center
for Women and Ministry in the South, 2002)
163 pages, paperback.
Available from the Resource Center by email:
or phone (919-683-1236), and at Amazon.com
Reviewed by Mary Jo Cartledgehayes
In 1977, Jeanette Stokes was a graduate of
Smith College and the Divinity School of Duke University when she
decided to carry out a special dream. She envisioned a center that
would "provide resources and programs on women, ministry,
social justice, and spirituality," and so she founded what
she called the Resource Center for Women and Ministry in the
South.
In the mid-90s, during a sabbatical leave from
her long-time role as Executive Director of the Resource Center,
she started moodling* around with the essays she had contributed
to the Resource Center's newsletter. She spent months scanning and
reformatting and correcting.
One day she e-mailed me to ask if I'd take a
look at what she'd printed out. We'd known each other since 1993
when I was in divinity school and offered to do some volunteer
work for the Resource Center. After reading the essays, I told
her, "I don't quite know what you have here, or how it should
be organized, but I do know there's a book in here
somewhere."
I was right. Not only was there a book in
there somewhere, but it turned out to be a book that knocks my
socks off.
25 Years in the Garden collects more
than sixty of Stokes' essays. The earliest is dated
November-December 1979; the most recent, July 2002. In between is
an on-the-hoof historical and personal record of one woman's life
as a clergywoman and social activist in a time of enormous change.
Reading it is like taking my own pulse: familiarity mixed with
intense concentration.
Some of the essays center on events in North
Carolina that had national (and theological) significance -- the
Nazi-Klan trial in Greensboro, North Carolina in 1980; the defeat
of the Equal Rights Amendment in the North Carolina Senate in
1982; the poultry plant fire in Hamlet, North Carolina, in 1992;
the execution by lethal injection of Dawud Abdullah Muhammad (born
David Junior Brown) in 1999. The simplicity of the writing often
belies the complexity of the content. For instance, when Stokes
describes walking through the scene of the chicken house fire, I
smell the destruction; taste the outrage; and mourn the loss of
life. The power of those sensations places me smack dab at the
intersection of faith and public policy.
Other essays raise riveting questions. In
thinking about Mary the mother of Jesus in the opening essay
"Advent," Stokes wonders, "What do you do for nine
months while you are pregnant with God?" In Klan"
(May-June 1987), she wants to know "What do you do while the
Ku Klux Klan rallies in your town?" And then there's
"Epiphany" (February 1993), in which she asks "Why
do we keep hammering away at the church until it blesses us or we
change it?"
Does Stokes give answers? Not always. She's
wise enough to know that sometimes the larger gift is a needed
analysis or a constructive surmise. The answers she does provide,
though, are invariably helpful, often provocative, and always
sane. For instance, the essay "Church" (March 2000)
opens with a friend asking how she gets around her frustration at
being part of the institutional church. Stokes responds,
"Church is what it is. I decided a long time ago to stop
torturing myself over it. I have not given up hope of changing it,
but I have given up suffering over it. I find support and
spiritual community where I can." Many of us -- or at least I
-- would do well to emblazon that statement in neon paint across
our office walls.
All the way back in 1981 Stokes recognized
that "Women in ministry have two perpetual problems with
work. The first is finding work. The second is not letting the
work kill us." She goes on to say, "I used to think that
when work did not hurt, it was play. Wrong. Work is still
work even when it does not hurt." While many of us recognize
the validity of the statement, some of us still haven't figured
out how to live it. I, for instance, tell myself, "But this
thing I'm working on is going so well, and I'm so interested in
it, that I'm not going to interrupt myself. I'll just keep
going." Stokes stepped out of this mindset back in 1990. As
she says in "The Art of Feeding the Spirit," that spring
the Resource Center sponsored a conference by the same name.
Afterwards, she had not only a "renewed appreciation for
creative expression as part of a spiritual life," but she had
also "learned to look more carefully at what feeds my spirit
on a daily basis."
That decision marks a turning point in the
book. The emphasis on the spiritual/political/activist life
continues, but the heart of the book widens. Many essays model the
spiritual discipline of self-attention, the way of honoring life
and God that involves the decision to "live today as
consciously as I can." In one essay we get to sit with Stokes
in a white Adirondack chair as she stares at a bush for two weeks
"because I wanted to hear the inside of my head." In
other essays, we get to clean out compost bins with her; to attend
a family reunion; to walk a labyrinth; to buy a loaf of bread from
a bread truck in Italy (but not just any bread; it is "the
most beautiful loaf of bread I've ever held in my own
hands"); and to sit at her breakfast table as she eats from
the same blue pottery bowl she's used every morning for over
twenty-five years because, she says, "it's really nice not to
have to start making up my life or responding to the unexpected
until after breakfast" ("Bowl," April
2002).
In the conclusion of that essay, Stokes says,
"A spiritual practice is something you return to day after
day. It's a place where judgment can be suspended and one can
accept oneself." Did you know that? If I ever did, I'd
forgotten. Her reminder, like so much of the book, refreshes and
encourages me.
And then there is the exquisite essay
"Alpha and Omega" (December 1993). Written to a friend
who was in the last weeks of pregnancy at the same time that her
father was dying, the essay holds within its pages the mystery and
holiness of life itself. After acknowledging the heartbreak,
Stokes says, "There is nothing to do but feel it. Feel it
every day. The joy and sorrow. The baby's kicking, a child's
laughter, the sadness, and the loss. It is all right there,
splashed in bright colors on the canvas of your heart."
In an article in the October 28, 1998, issue
of The Christian Century, William C. Placher, a professor
of religion and philosophy at Wabash University, attributes the
boredom, depression, and stagnation in many of our churches to the
superficiality of most popular writing on theological matters.
Placher concludes that "Whatever else [we need], we need
writers," specifically formally trained theologians who are
willing "to start taking some of the risks entailed in
writing for a wider audience."
An ordained Presbyterian minister, Jeanette
Stokes has been taking that risk for over twenty-five years. Her
power as a writer comes from her intellectual strength as a
theologian; her sturdy and unquenchable faith; her integrity; and
her awareness that life is splashes of color, sometimes joyous,
sometimes heart-breaking. I have a few minor wishes: that more of
the essays from the seventies and eighties could have been
included, and that some of the essays were longer. The
two-to-three page format makes the book ideal for both general
reading and devotional use, but sometimes I wanted Stokes to fly
further and higher with the topics, an impossibility with the
length requirements.
But I'm only quibbling when I say that. You
need to read this book, and then you need to tell all of your
friends about it, and then you need to read it again, for the
sheer joy.
- Mary Jo
Cartledgehayes
* Ed. note: Stokes points out that the term
moodling was a descriptive term used by Brenda Ueland in her 1938
book, If You Want to Write. "You know what moodling
is," Stokes says, "It is doodling without a
pencil." (p.73). Ueland described it as "long,
inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering" and called
it essential to a creative imagination (Brenda Ueland, Graywolf
Press, 1987 edition, p.32).
Reviewer Mary Jo
Cartledgehayes is a long-time member of EEWC and a former national
coordinator. A United Methodist minister, she is the author of Grace:
A Memoir published by Crown Publishing in April, 2003, which
was reviewed in our Winter issue. She can be contacted via her
website, www.marycartledgehayes.com.
© 2003
Evangelical and Ecumenical Women's Caucus
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