Jesus sends out the 70 menopausal women

A sermon for the 3rd Sunday after Trinity

Gospel reading: Luke 10:1-11,16-20

Jesus appoints seventy menopausal women and he sends them on ahead of him.

Ten of them have brain-fog so bad they can’t remember what instructions Jesus gave them. Some of them have brought purses because they forgot that they weren’t supposed to bring them. One of them forgot that Jesus told them not to bring sandals, so she’s wearing hers, but they’re the ones with the supportive arches and the cool-gel insoles and she can’t cope without them. This ten keep getting lost and they can’t remember where they’re going. They’re trying really hard to heal the sick but they keep forgetting the right words to say.

Ten more have hot flushes so debilitating that they may as well be on fire. One minute they’re fine, the next they’re drenched in sweat, bright red in the face and so anxious they feel like they could crawl out of their skins. They don’t want to greet anyone on the road, because they already feel embarrassed in case anyone notices.

Ten of the followers have hormonal rage so bad they could uproot trees. It comes with no warning and seems inexplicable. Everything is irritating. They’re irritated by each other, by the people on the road, by the people they’re supposed to be helping, and heaven forbid the next time someone eats noisily with their mouth open. It’s like a lifetime of frustration and resentment has suddenly boiled up and overflowed and now there’s no stopping it. This rage is volcanic in its intensity. Holding it in is impossible.

Ten more have insomnia so severe they’ve not slept a full night in months. They lie awake on the side of the road, remembering every tiny little thing they’ve ever done wrong. They rehearse arguments with people in their heads and repeat scenarios over and over again until they wake, exhausted and upset. The lack of sleep has made them so tired that getting through each day is increasingly challenging.

Another ten of the followers are so low in spirit and so broken in soul that they struggle to put one foot in front of the other. They have lost who they were and they don’t know who they’ve become. But they know that God is still with them and gives them strength. They are broken healers and that because of their own pain, they can walk beside the broken as women who know what it is to suffer.

Another ten have every single one of these problems all at the same time, and they’re finding it almost impossible to carry out the mission Jesus has given them but carry it out they must.

The final ten? They have no problems at all. They are the lucky ones, the bearers of hope. They will give strength and inspiration to the rest.

Knowing all this, Jesus appoints these women. He equips them with things they can’t see. He anoints them. They are commissioned with this task of growing his church. Somehow.

He sends them out with deliberately diminished resources. No bag, No purse. No sandals. Maybe he understands that this is a time where they will have to rely on what’s left, on what’s inside of them in order to cope. They will have no choice but to rely on him because there will be nothing else.

But these middle aged women are no strangers to the wilderness. They know it intimately. They know what it’s like to be in a place that you don’t know and where you feel as if you have nothing left. A wilderness called menopause, where everything has changed in ways you can’t predict and you can’t know.

It’s an unfamiliar landscape blighted by many wolves which will eat you alive if you’re not careful, and there are many other hazards on the way, snakes which will trip you and scorpions which will sting.

They visit many places on their travels. Some where people say, welcome. Come on in. Here’s a glass of water. Here’s a hand fan to help with those flushes. Here’s a comfy bed so you can sleep. Do you need food and rest? Here. You are welcome.

And the women say, “the kingdom of God is in this place.”

But, as Jesus predicted, some people are not as understanding. There are those who say, “Why are you making a fuss? Menopause wasn’t a thing in my day, we just got on with it.”

There are people who are embarrassed and uncomfortable with the women and their problems, so they turn the other way. There are people who want to understand but they don’t know how. There are people who just don’t want to know. So the women leave and they wipe the dust and the indifference from their feet. The kingdom of God has still come near.

Like all the gospels, Luke’s gospel is androcentric. It’s written by a man with a male audience in mind. But it’s also written during a period in time when women’s experiences and perspectives weren’t understood or were barely even acknowledged. I wonder, if the church has changed all that much since Luke’s day?

Women have had to read the bible as if we were men whilst being told that this perspective is a neutral one, even though it’s not. Each of the gospel writers has a unique perspective and a primary message that they want to get across.

Amongst other things, Luke’s gospel cautions against pride and the grabbing of power, but this is a message primarily directed at men. Women are sinners too - this I know - but often the character of that sinning is different. Desire for power and dominance aren’t usually besetting sins for women, so when we hear a message telling us to stand down, we often already have.

The message, “don’t assert yourselves,” lands differently when you’re a woman who has always been told to put herself last. A message like this can cause us to back-off, shrink and make ourselves even smaller.

We can believe we’re not authorised to lead. That it is our destiny to be unempowered. It’s important for us as a church to be attentive to how women might read ourselves unhelpfully in the gospel narratives but also to recognise that there’s sometimes a need for women’s own parables and stories. That this isn’t being unfaithful to the text, it’s being faithful to the bigger story, one which includes us all.

Jesus sends out the seventy menopausal women. He sends them out. He gives them a clear mission, and in churches up and down the length of this land, women who are middle aged and older are carrying out that mission. They are the biggest demographic in the church today. They are preaching, leading, teaching, running toddler groups and bible studies, greeting people at the door of the church, making the teas and coffees, arranging the flowers and cleaning the altar, chairing meetings, tidying the pews, reading the gospel, saying the prayers, appointed by Jesus, carrying out the mission he gave us. If the women of the church downed tools tomorrow the church wouldn’t be able to function. We are here and our stories need to be told.

When Jesus says in Luke’s gospel, “I am among you as one who serves,” it hits differently when the only characters in that gospel who serve others are women. If Jesus is among those who serve in church, he’s mostly to be found among the women. So if the church wants to draw closer to Jesus, it needs to better understand its women.

Women don’t do this alone. We need our brothers beside us, because the kingdom of God is here and it includes all God’s people. When we go out on that mission, carrying with us all that it means to be a woman, we want to be accepted and welcomed. When we say to the church, “Peace to this house!” we want the rest of the church to share in that peace with us.

It’s no easy task. But we women are wise. We women are strong. We women have been given the authority to tread on snakes and scorpions and we will not be harmed. We are called by God and our names are written in Heaven.

Amen.

~ A sermon given at St Michael’s, Wandsworth Common on 6th July 2025.