The Handless Maidens of the Old Testament: Birthing Narratives
Birthing narratives of the Old Testament present a compelling story that appeals to the feminine way of feeling, thinking, and learning. Recovering the feminine way seems daunting. Scarce with details, most birthing narratives are embedded within a masculine viewpoint. However, a 14th century German fairy tale, The Handless Maiden, provides a path to uncover the spiritual intricacies of humanities’ feminine side.
This pattern is nothing new. The masculine journey is best understood through the work of Joseph Campbell. A Hero with a Thousand Faces presents Campbell’s categorization of mythical characters and plots across the years and throughout all cultures. Campbell documents similarities and proposes “The Hero’s Journey,” a paradigm.
The masculine journey is external and involves leaving an ordinary world and leaping into the unfamiliar. The hero’s reason for making the voyage is to accomplish a goal on behalf of those in the ordinary world. For example, a dragon must be slayed or a saving elixir must be acquired. The hero faces his greatest fear and returns home victorious with the treasure. But not before experiencing the transformation from boyhood to manhood, sponsored by allies and enemies. Once home, the hero now betters his community.
In contrast, the heroine takes an internal journey of reflection, solitude and self-care. Often those chapters of a heroine’s life are seedbeds from which to draw energy and creativity when addressing the problem, whose solution always lies within the heroine’s being. The masculine way values victory over enemies. The feminine way values reconciliation strongly tied to internal restoration of feminine wholeness.
Familiarity with The Handless Maiden tale is a valuable tool when deciphering the Old Testament birthing stories. Insights include feminine struggles with worthiness, the internal journey and the healing power of solitude, self-care and other-care. Using the paradigm offered by The Handless Maiden, we are more fully able to construct the female spiritual journey as presented in the birthing narratives.
The Maiden’s Betrayal
An innocent maiden is betrayed by her father. In the German version, the father is a miller and agrees to give the devil whatever lies behind his shed in exchange for a hydro- powered flour mill. To his recollection, behind the shed stands a half dead tree. This arrangement seems to indicate that the miller has outsmarted the devil, for he will leave behind sweat equity and acquire a life of ease. In the place of the miller’s manual labor, the stream now turns a wheel. The family becomes rich.
But the devil’s deals are never fair and the strings attached are always mooring ropes designed to dock our best intentions. When the devil comes to collect, the father is horrified for behind the shed is his innocent daughter. The devil refuses the girl but takes her hands. With a sharp blade, the miller’s daughter becomes the handless maiden. And the father, filled with guilt, instructs servants (who the family can now afford) to look after the maiden’s every need.
The handless maiden archetype begins her journey in a place of powerlessness. In the Old Testament, Leah is traded for her sister Rachel, and led to the consummation tent by Laban, her father. She is powerless to object. Because of Laban’s actions, Leah is bound to Jacob who did not love her.
For the handless maiden and Leah, worth is defined by the contributions a female makes to the whole. Had Leah married someone else, perhaps she could have won him over with her worth as a worker, child bearer, or mother. Instead, Leah is a futile token tossed between Laban and Jacob and the same goes for the maiden who is a bargaining chip between the devil and the miller. How does the feminine way address these issues of impotence and futility?
Solitude
The Handless Maiden not only presents a problem but also a solution. The feminine solution always begins with solitude. After all, time to think, feel and reflect is most needed when the enemy is not clearly defined. Would exacting revenge on these fathers restore what was lost? The rich dichotomy of masculine’s good and evil nomenclature serves our heroine no purpose. The garden of solitude is where the handless maiden retreats. No longer pacified with servants looking after her every need, her tears can only be stopped when she is in the garden. After much solitude, she emerges into the King’s Garden, where she is replenished by the King’s pear tree. The tree holds the precious fruit as she nibbles upon one pear a day. Without her hands, the maiden still finds a way to care for herself.
Along with solitude, she now nourishes herself from a fruit that represents femininity. Survival and spiritual renewal are the first orders of business when a heroine enters into solitude. The storage of this energy is later expended when she seeks to make peace by dissolving the conflict and transforming foes into friends.
In the book of Ruth, heroines Ruth and Naomi are flung into powerlessness when their husbands die. Naomi, Ruth’s mother in law, is doubly wounded because she has lost her husband and two sons. The masculine culture forces them to return to Bethlehem, Naomi’s hometown. Naomi seems to reject any reconnections that may have brought peace by changing her name to “bitterness”. Why this emotional distancing? In the heroine’s journey there is no identifiable dragon to slay. But just as our maiden nibbles a pear, Naomi restores her ability to care for herself and Ruth as she coaches Ruth in the kinsman-redeemer tradition. But first Naomi requires solitude.
The Silver Hands
When the King receives the report of missing pears, he hides in the garden to catch the thief. Instead he falls in love. As to be expected in fairy tales, the handless maiden becomes queen.
The internal journey of the maiden does not conclude when she rejoins a community. Fueled by the energy stored in her time of solitude, she seems reinvigorated. But history repeats as the well-meaning King orders silver hands to be constructed. For a while the queen is satisfied. She even gives her community a little prince. But babies need warmth and the silver hands are cold. So servants are beckoned to care for the infant. Suddenly the King’s masculine logic of silver hands and servants no longer apply to the queen’s heart and mind. The tearful queen retreats to the forest of solitude with her son.
In Leah’s story, the progression of boy names represents her silver hands. Leah names the first boy Reuben, which means, “because the Lord has seen my affliction; for now my husband will love me” (Genesis 29:32). How cold are those silver hands of being wife and mother in title only! The second and third names highlight the same sentiment. But the fourth boy is different. The scriptures are silent about Leah’s spiritual journey but the handless maiden paradigm gives insight to the fourth naming. Leah, typical of the female heroine, reconciled her discontent. Judah’s name has nothing to do with her anger toward Jacob. On the contrary, Judah means “praise the Lord” (Genesis 29:35).
A Drowning Baby
The queen and the prince live off the land in the forest of solitude. One day the child falls into a stream. Desperately, she plunges her useless hands into the water. Her grasp of the child is firm. As the baby takes a gasp of air she sees that her hands, fully restored, now secure the child to her breasts. Whatever the reason of the physical restoration, the queen reclaims her ability to care for the baby. This illustrates the value of caring for others in the feminine way. Naomi’s story is not finished after she raises Ruth and herself from poverty through a marriage to Boaz. Her joy is made complete as she cares for Obed, the child resulting from Ruth’s marriage.
Redemption for Leah’s story is revealed by following Judah’s life and lineage. Judah saves Joseph’s life by convincing the other brothers to sell him into slavery. Later, Judah moves Joseph to reconcile with his brothers by making a passionate speech about Benjamin. This reconciliation allows Jacob’s family to escape the drought of Canaan. Finally, it is through Judah’s line that Jesus will enter.
Leah’s silver hands became human through her son and represent a long-term perspective. However, Leah did experience a relational change within her lifetime. This is evidenced by Genesis 49:31. Jacob, on his death bed, entrusts his burial to the cave called Machpelah “…there I buried Leah.” (Genesis 49:31) Jacob’s mention of Leah on his deathbed denotes respect. This offering of humanity melts away Leah’s silver hands.
The handless maiden paradigm contrasts to the masculine dichotomy of victim, villain, and hero. It invites readers to search the entire maternal story in all birthing narratives. Along with a focus upon the child birthed, it encourages a woven holistic female narrative that consistently includes solitude, self-care, and other-care as a response to powerlessness and betrayal.
