Kat Armstrong: The In-Between Place

Today one of my favorite authors, Kat Armstrong, launches her latest book, The In-Between Place. Kat is a powerful voice in our generation. She's an innovative ministry leader and sought-after communicator who holds a master’s degree from Dallas Theological Seminary and is the author of No More Holding Back and The In-Between Place. She and her husband, Aaron, have been married for eighteen years and live in Dallas, Texas, with their son, Caleb. They attend Dallas Bible Church, where Aaron serves as the lead pastor.

I read her most recent book, The In-Between Place, and wrote this endorsement: Sometimes a place in the Bible’s narrative becomes like a character with a voice of its own. Shechem/Sychar is such a place. Dinah was raped in Shechem, and Jesus met “the woman at the well” there. In Kat's new book she takes readers to this city in Samaria and guides them through a literary, religious, and geographical look at how God has used this locale and its people to reveal his sovereignty and grace. Armstrong’s book is full of amusing anecdotes, astute observations, and life-changing applications.

Here's an interview with Kat, who was born in Houston, Texas, where she says the humidity ruins her curls.

Kat, welcome back! Let’s talk about your newest book, The In-Between Place. What inspired you to write it?

The In-Between Place was born when Ronnie (my Holy Land tour guide) said, “We are standing in modern-day Samaria. You’ll remember, it’s the setting for the story of the woman at the well. And now we’ll hear from Rev. Dr. Jackie Roese about Dinah’s story from Genesis 34.” One casual transition statement from our Israel tour guide, Ronnie, about the Holy Land site visit for the day to our Bible teacher, Rev. Dr. Jackie Roese, reoriented the way I read the Samaritan woman’s conversation with Jesus in John 4. How did I not see it sooner? Both women’s stories have Samaria as their setting, and I think there is divine purpose in the places and spaces God revisits in the Scriptures. I believe God redeems broken places into sacred spaces. I have this wild, audacious dream that people will read The In-Between Place and be filled with hope that Jesus is in our messy middle places.

In the book you compare and contrast Dinah’s story (Genesis 34) with the woman at the Well’s story (John 4). Can you share some observations you make in the book about these two women’s stories? 

I take the whole book to answer this question, but here are just a few of my observations. 

1. While Dinah is the first named daughter in the Bible, and her experience represents evil’s accessibility to even the most prestigious of women, the nameless woman at the well in John 4 represents all women, all Gentiles, and ultimately, all people. 

2. In Dinah’s story we meet her father’s landlord, Hamor the Hivite, who was the “region’s chieftain” (Gen. 34:2); and second we meet Hamor’s son, Shechem. The saying “like father, like son” rings true for these two. Hamor and Shechem, both princes of terror, stand in sharp contrast with the main man in John 4, Jesus, the Prince of Peace. Whereas Hamor and Shechem gave their town a bad name with their intimidation, Jesus, the one who knows all our names, ushers in harmony and safety with his presence. 

3. When Dinah casually ventured out to connect with her friends, the mood was easy and laid back. Just another day in the neighborhood. But while Dinah was minding her own business, Shechem was hunting his prey. We get the sense from the story that we need to hide from his wandering eye and protect ourselves from his looming presence. Compare that to the nameless Samaritan woman at the well who encountered the Prince of Peace. The Samaritan woman was also minding her own business, but when Jesus sat down near the well, his posture spoke to his vulnerability. Our Savior was a safe stranger to approach. Unlike Shechem, Jesus just wanted to talk. 

4. Dinah’s voice was never heard in all of the Scriptures. Never. Her perspective was never acknowledged. On the other hand, Jesus not only gave the Samaritan woman a voice, he also then gave her an audience to proclaim her truth—and the eternal truth that Jesus is the Savior of the world. 

5. Dinah’s story ends with genocide, and we can’t help but close the chapter disappointed that there was no redemption in the ending. In sharp contrast, the Samaritan woman’s story ends with joy and many in the town being saved. 

What would you say to someone struggling to find hope in their in-between place?

If you don’t have the energy, hope, or faith to follow Jesus, take heart: he comes to you. Maybe you are working your very first job, restarting school to finish your degree, becoming a first-time mom, or beginning a new life after a major loss. Although you might not be able to see your way out, and your determination might have been knocked out of you in your fall, Jesus can climb into that pit with you and lift you up with his mighty power. You don’t even have to make the first move; he will. I know this because of Jesus’s conversation recorded in John 4 with the Samaritan woman at the well.  

Anything else you want to tell my readers?

Friends, it's excellent. Order from Amazon.

Samaritan Woman: Stay Away from Me?

My Tapestry post for the week: 

Ireceived a question this week from a former student, Vernita, about theSamaritan woman, whose story John records in the fourth chapter of his Gospel.

Vernita:I'm looking for any credible historical data to support the statements I'veread in some commentaries which suggest the Samaritan woman was an outcast inher society and came to the well later in the day than most women in order toavoid the scorn of that crowd. Are you aware of any writings that specificallyand definitively state that, or would that be speculation based on what we knowabout that society?

Me:English translations tell us, "It was about noon" (Jn.4:6). The Greek says it was the sixth hour. Some take that to meanfrom midnight—that is, 6 a.m. But because John elsewhere gives the time ofJesus's death as being about the sixth hour (19:14), or noon, making itcorrespond with the time Passover lambs began to be sacrificed, it is morelikely that in the John 4:6 reference he also means noon. Butknow there is some discussion about whether it is actually noon in the firstplace. 

Nowthen, much meaning has been read into this time detail. Sure, it is possiblethe Samaritan woman was at the well alone because she was a moraloutcast. 

Butit’s also possible she was there because she was infertile and poor–thus, sheherself went instead of sending one of her children. Some of our Africanfriends have this expression: “An infertile woman sends her own thigh.” Sincethe Samaritan woman had no one else to send, she had to go herself.

Manyassume women drew water only once a day. But if we look at the developing worldtoday, women may go to haul water three times a day or even more–depending onhow much water they need and how much they can carry in one trip. So weprobably should not assume there was only one set time for most to gather.

Ourknowledge of more agrarian cultures can help us here. And based on what I’veseen in the developing world, I suspect this woman was actuallynot anadulteress or a fornicator. Rather, she had endured the loss of six husbands.Some of them may have died. And some (most) might have left her. Infertilitycould have been a key reason. Women in Samaria typically could not just up anddivorce their husbands. Especially not five of them. How would they eat if theydid that? No, it was the men who typically initiated divorce. So she hadprobably been dumped and/or bereaved of her man five times.

Thesixth time, she had to settle for a polygamous arrangement to keep fromstarving. If so, she would have been the wife who got stuck doing the workbecause she could not bear children. This scenario better fits a society wherewomen were treated as chattel (they were in first-century Samaria), and itaccounts for why a grown woman would be fetching water. It also better fits acontext in which women did not typically initiate divorce, and where women whowere infertile were often abandoned. 

Noticein Luke’s story about Elizabeth and Zechariah that when the formerly infertileElizabeth conceives, she rejoices that she no longer feels shame in thesight of the people (Luke 1:25, emphasis mine). It was “shameful”for a woman in first-century Palestine to be infertile. If the Samaritan womanwas actually avoiding other women, infertility is the more likely factor. 

If suchis the case, imagine the impact of Jesus's words: "Go call yourhusband."

"Idon't have one."

"You'reright. You've had five five, and you have to share the one you have now."Said with compassion. And concern for the grief and injustice. (Not facing herabout her sin.)

"You'rea prophet! (How else could you know all that?) We're hoping forMessiah!" 

"IAM."

Jesus,who usually talks in enigmatic statements about his identity, comes right outand tells this woman longing for Messiah that he’s the one! And suddenly thesocial hider is running to make a public announcement.

Throughthe centuries, we have tended to see sexual sin lurking in the closets of mostwomen in the Bible. Certainly Jesus saves sinners. But in light of what we knowof cultural background, especially in this case, I think we need another look.

If, indeed,Jesus was not confronting this woman about her sexual failures, but was showingempathy, what might that tell us about the wisdom of beginning our evangelismconversations with confrontations about sin?  

Women vs. Gender

A major shift began to take place in history departments in the 1980s when a scholar named Joan Scott wrote a seminal essay, “Gender: A Useful Category of Historical Analysis,” published in The American Historical Review. In it Scott called for historians to shift from focusing on “Women’s Studies” to focusing on “Gender Studies.”

Scott used the definition of gender favored by social historians—"the social organization of the relationship between the sexes." (As an example, when our male African friend wore a pink watch in America, he discovered how gender norms may be socially organized vs. always biologically constructed.)Scott’s interest lay less in studying sex differences than in exploring relationships of power. Such a shift, she felt, would broaden the field, allowing researchers to explore how societies have assigned roles to the biological differences and attributes of both men and women. And her idea caught on in a big way.Historians have since shifted the conversation from “What did women do?” to include “How did people in the past view masculinity and femininity?” and especially, “What were the power relationships between men and women?”Recognizing that culture shapes views of masculinity and femininity has led scholars to read ancient texts differently. For example, an ancient writer might criticize a woman for being too talkative, and now instead of uncritically adopting that writer’s view of her, a researcher might ask, “What were the norms of femininity at the time?”The shift from “Women’s Studies” to “Gender Studies” has also caused scholars to do more reading between the lines. For example, since Octavian (later Caesar Augustus) passed laws allowing exemption from male supervision for women citizens who birthed three children, the contemporary historian can conclude that most women must have desired to have independent agency instead of being under male authority. Otherwise, the edict would not have worked as an incentive—which was Octavian’s desire. So seeing in ancient women a desire for independence is not necessarily a projection of our own Western and contemporary biases, after all.Some gender scholars have taken their tools of analysis and used them to look at how our Bible translations have changed over time. For example, the KJV says a woman should not “teach or usurp authority over a man,” whereas more recent translations say “teach or have authority.” Interestingly, these researchers have discovered that many translations have actually become more conservative since the rise of second-wave feminism, when we might have expected the opposite.Lynn Cohick, a New Testament scholar at Wheaton, in her book, Women in the World of the Earliest Christians, draws on gender theory as she approaches the subject of male/female relations in the New Testament. She takes, for example, what is known about the difficulty of a woman initiating divorce in ancient Palestine and re-looks at the Samaritan woman whom Jesus encountered (John 4). Only last week I heard someone teaching, again, that this woman was promiscuous for having had five husbands. (Oh, and she was living with the sixth guy.) Yet Cohick argues that the Samaritan woman was more likely abandoned and/or widowed or both and then finally given in marriage to a man with more than one wife (i.e., “the one you have now is not your own”).If such is the case, Jesus was not "confronting the woman’s sinfulness by referring to her marital status," as is commonly taught. Instead, He was empathizing with her greatest point of pain. And her response? “You must be a prophet!” Then she speaks of her hope in the coming of Messiah. And guess what? She is the only person to whom Jesus ever comes right out and says, “Ego eimi,”—“I AM. The one speaking to you!” Next thing you know, she takes off to tell the world.

Great Resource

I just finished reading an academic book about first-century backgrounds that I highly recommend.

Piecing together literary, archaeological, epigraphic, and iconographic evidence from classic, Jewish, and Christian sources, Dr. Lynn Cohick, who teaches New Testament at Wheaton, has built a fascinating mosaic of first-century daily life in family, religion, and society. But she doesn’t stop there. She goes on to illuminate women in the New Testament in light of what we now know about both scripture and their cultures.

So, for example, Cohick raises the question of whether the Samaritan woman was actually an upright woman who was possibly dumped and/or widowed and then remarried to a man with another wife. Others have raised this question previously. But never has the possibility seemed more credible. Cohick also explores the possibility that in the same way Silas and Silvanus are probably the same person, Junia and Joanna might be the same. I was a skeptic when I started reading, but now I’m pretty convinced.

Most of the book, though, focuses not on specific Bible characters but on telling readers about the world in which those characters lived. And in that, I found some surprises. I always thought, for example, that women in antiquity who married were then under the complete authority of their husbands. But apparently they stayed under the tutelage of their fathers (or a male biological family member). The fathers could even dissolve marriages to form stronger alliances elsewhere. Yet thanks to Caesar Augustus, if a woman gave birth to three children, the tutorship ended.

Cohick directs her well reasoned arguments to an academic audience, but they’re accessible enough for anyone interested in antiquity and topics such as marriage, dowries, adoption, worship practices, and patronage. If you love history, exploring women of the Bible and the world in which they lived, and/or books by smart women, this book belongs on your wish list.