An article by Abdulla Alabbasi et al. (2022:9) explores the gender differences in creative potential and notes that ‘females may initially show greater creative potential, but that males are able to apply their potential more fruitfully in terms of achievements’.

Zell, Krizan and Teeter (2015:10) address the ‘common assumption that males and females are profoundly different’ and find that meta-analysis demonstrates ‘that males and females are highly similar’. Looking at ‘data from 20 000 individual studies and over 12 million participants’, the researchers found that ‘across most topic areas in psychological science, the difference between males and females is small or very small’ (Zell et al. 2015:18). However, additional research ‘is needed to identify conditions under which gender differences are most pronounced, as well as factors that give rise to gender differences’ (Zell et al. 2015:18).

In a short critique of the above-mentioned article of Zell et al. (2015), Zuriff (2015:664) observes that some of its data is like comparing humans and bonobos (dwarf chimpanzees).

Hoogerheide, Loyens and Van Gog (2016:69), in a study regarding online learning, find that learning from a male model required less effort and was more enjoyable ‘for male students than for female students’ and that ‘a male model was perceived as more competent’.

Hyde (2005:590), in investigating gender, find that similarities rather than differences dominate, but that ‘aggression shows a gender difference that is moderate in magnitude’.

A reviewer asked me to detail my methodology. The methodology for these two articles is personal and developed slowly. Gender balance is the name I gave to a new idea. The idea started with sadness.

I have spent my lifetime in church. One Advent, I realised that I had never heard a sermon about Elizabeth, surely one of the season’s key characters. Therefore, I wrote a monologue in which she re-tells Luke 1 from her perspective (Branch 2013). It has been performed worldwide.

Although recognising that there are more stories about and references to men in the Bible than to women, I began to read stories in the Old and New Testament with this dictum: If there is a story about a man, look for a complementary one about a woman, and vice versa. If there is a passage or theme about a man, look for similar ones about a woman, and vice versa.

I began making lists about each story I studied. The lists followed standard literary elements like plot, characters, setting, the narrator’s viewpoint (Longman 1993:71) and other elements such as theme, tone, repetition, dialogue, time, and diction. I then thumbed my Bible and scanned my memory for ‘matches’ with the opposite gender.

The matches made me see the stories in new ways. When a new insight occurred to me, I had solitary, serendipity, and joyful moments in my office. As one who teaches the Bible, I made a point of briefly mentioning a complementary story or theme or emotion about the opposite gender in my lectures. I saw faces relax and shoulders straighten as a result of these casual but consistent mentions. All students felt included.

Presentation and publication came slowly. In 2020, I gave a guest lecture to my research faculty on gender balance – feedback agreed that it was a new idea. I submitted a story on gender balance in a contest sponsored by the blog branch of an academic journal – it shared the top award (Branch 2021). I submitted one article to this journal on gender balance and a reviewer suggested that a second article must be considered – hence the two-article submission.

The methodology for gender balance is simple: keep reading; when you find a passage or story about a woman, look for a similar one about a man, and vice versa. If a woman expresses an emotion like joy or revenge, look for a similar expression by a man, and vice versa. Use standard literary tools.

Results can include new ways of looking at passages and more insights on the Bible’s great central character, God. Gender balance can mitigate the two extremes of misogyny (hatred of women) and misandry (hatred of men). For me, there’s been this added blessing: A humble thankfulness of exploring something new, wholesome and life changing.

These two articles use the words way and lens interchangeably. In literary circles, the latter is often called critical lens. A lens is a particular choice or set of choices for studying something – in this case a piece of literature.

I offer in these two articles the lens of gender balance for studying the Scriptures. I define the Scriptures as the accepted canon of the Old and New Testament books as defined by the Westminster Confession of Faith (1:2).

Other biblical scholars likewise employ lens.

Moore (2020) uses the lens of ancient colonisation in reading Acts. Tanner (2001) views Psalms through the lens of intertextuality. According to promotional material on a new Wisdom Series Commentary, Murray (2023) sees Tobit through ‘a specifically feminist lens’. Johnston (2011) studies Ecclesiastes through the lens of contemporary film. Coleman (2020) concentrates on the Lukan lens of wealth and possessions.

Boase and Frechette (eds. 2016) edit essays that see the Bible through the lens of trauma. Liew and Segovia (eds. 2022) edit essays that look at biblical texts through the lens of minority criticism. Segovia (2022:3) states that a unit on this topic has been present at the Society of Biblical Literature since 2011.

The gender balance lens clearly follows a present-day trend in biblical studies.

The biblical stories of Abram and Ruth involved journeys. The two accounts appear in what are traditionally called the Pentateuch and Historical Books. However, the journey theme links the two characters and the two genres. Francis Andersen (1976:36) reinforces my grouping by citing epic history and putting in it not only the book of Job but also ‘the patriarchal stories, the saga of the Exodus, the career of David (and) the tale of Ruth’.

Their journeys began differently. God commanded Abram specifically: ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you’ (Gn 12:1). In contrast, Ruth, a Moabitess and recently widowed, just went – on her own and without direct, divine command. In words beloved for generations, Ruth offered a description of active love for her mother-in-law, Naomi, also widowed, that explained her decision, dedication, and resolve (Rt 1:15–18). Both women faced destitution. Ruth knew her journey’s destination; Abram did not.

Because journeys involve many literary elements – character, conflict, plot, dialogue, tone, point of view, setting, and time (cf. Lostracco & Wilkerson 2008) – they provide a fine way to tell a story. Fokkelman (1999:82) wryly adds that narrative art is very flexible; few rigid laws govern it.

Adventures prevailed for both characters. Abram arrived in Canaan, found it already occupied (Gn 12:7), and soon left, because it was ‘far from being a homeland that can nourish his household’ (Bechmann 2016). The Genesis chapters show Abram’s slow change from a wandering lifestyle to a more settled one with wells, shrines, and a burial ground at Mamre (Miller & Miller 1996:124). Along the way, God changed his name to Abraham (Gn 17:5).

However, silence – a literary tool – surrounded Ruth and Naomi’s journey from Moab; readers can assume it was uneventful. The duos’ adventures started in Bethlehem and began with the barley harvest (cf. Schwab 2012:1319; Rt 1:22). While Ruth accepted her new life with a determination to work, Naomi grieved. In this season of loss, transition and uncertainty, Naomi – bitter and mad – directed both emotions God-ward. In contrast throughout the narrative, ‘Ruth is proactive and not placid in her struggle to provide for herself and her mother-in-law’ (Branch 2012).

The Hebrew word hayil describes both Boaz, the hero, and Ruth, the heroine (Rt 2:1; 3:11). It denotes fine character, might, virtue, prosperity, ability, wealth, and strength (cf. Weber 1980:I:271). Mathews (2017:58, 57) believes the two ‘were made to stand together as a team of equals’; she praises Ruth for choosing to help a destitute older woman, Naomi.

The two widows experienced the concept of journey in multiple ways: from poverty to provision; hopelessness to hope; loss to stability; barrenness to fertility; and aloneness to community standing.

Journeys become a major theme in the Old Testament as well as the New Testament. God’s active presence (although usually silent) and watchful care (although seemingly unseen) need to be remembered as issues such as sibling rivalry, inheritance, famines, deceit, infertility, sins, and wars beset many lives (cf. Westermann 1992:215). Ruth’s adventuresome journey occurred because she decided to leave all she knew for a new life under the watchful care of Naomi’s God, the God of Israel. Abram’s beginning with obedience.

God blessed Israel with exemplary leaders. Two were Moses and Deborah. Moses, the more prominent, receives the most textual space. However, while their leadership tenure is roughly the same (approximately 40 years), the Book of Judges indicates Deborah may have been Israel’s major judge for an additional 20 years.

From a literary standpoint, both are round characters; they grow, change, develop and face difficulties (Lostracco & Wilkerson 2008:12). The Table 1 puts them side by side.

Mathews (2017:232) articulates an experience many Christian woman share, namely that gender often triumphs over gifting; for instance, a male candidate gets a position because of gender when a female candidate is the more gifted. The Deborah chapters prove an exception and an encouragement to such women. The Bible justifiably honours Moses and Deborah, although several hundred years apart and facing different problems, for leading Israel well. Deborah honours Jael as ‘the most blessed of women’ (5:24) for her action of putting a tent peg through Sisera’s temple (4:21).

Moses, however, during his tenure’s closing years, received an unusual gift from the Lord: a radiant face (cf. Ex 34:29–35). When the people were afraid to come near him because of it, Moses wore a veil. His radiance was a visible sign that Moses indeed was the Lord’s prophet (cf. Bruckner 2008:311).

The Lord’s call of Deborah and her overall assessment of the Israelites are absent from the Judges account. As for Moses, both are provided. A divine call often includes a divine appearance, commission, objection from the one called, reassurance from the deity and a miraculous sign. Moses evaluates his charges as stiff-necked (Fretheim 1991:51, 304; Ex 3:1–7, 34:9).

Although her service as judge is recorded with much brevity in comparison to Moses’ leadership, Deborah’s designation as prophet carried great weight. This ‘spiritual gifting allowed her to shatter social mores’, settle disputes and dispense justice throughout Ephraim (Boda 2012:1114).

Plot in a story is generally considered a sequence of events; conflict, a related concept, appears when two or more forces meet, collide or become entangled (Lostracco & Wilkerson 2008:19). The selected stories of Miriam and Jonah show a collision, if you will, between two characters and God.

A narrator’s editorial comment sets the tone for Miriam’s ‘collision’ by saying that she and Aaron spoke against their younger brother, Moses, because of his Cushite wife (Nm 12:1; cf. Fokkelman 1999:66–67). The older siblings at first seemed displeased with Moses, but their hostility toward him was soon exposed as quite deep.

After all, didn’t God also speak to them? God took Moses’ side, struck Miriam (apparently the primary instigator) with leprosy, and ordered her week-long banishment from camp. The Numbers 12 account abounds with irony, for didn’t this quick-thinking older sister saved Moses’ life decades earlier (cf. Branch 2018:24–27; Bruckner 2008:27)?

God clearly holds prophets to a higher standard than he does others. They have had more revelation and contact with him than regular congregants. God expects them to reflect his character in their dealings. The sins of pride and rebellion mark both prophets. Jonah, through mistaken zeal, thought God erred in an outreach to Nineveh (cf. Banks 1966:106); Miriam and Aaron, arguably through hubris, sought equal recognition with Moses and found out that the Lord honours him by speaking to him ‘face to face’ (Nm 12:8). In short, Moses enjoyed ‘an unprecedented intimacy’ with God (Allen 2012:204).

When teaching these passages, the kindergarten phrase, ‘Time Out’, comes up – to my students’ great amusement. Miriam’s exile qualifies as ‘The Big Time Out’. Scripture remains silent on any communication she had with the Lord during that week, but she returned to camp – apparently healed.

The Lord also creatively disciplined Jonah. First, a great fish swallowed the runaway prophet. Jonah’s ‘Time Out’, three days, was probably more intense than Miriam’s. He was in darkness and being digested! Seaweed wrapped around his head (Jnh 2:5)! After Jonah repented, the fish vomited the prophet on dry land.

The book bearing his name shows at least two sins. The first was going west to Tarshish and not northeast to Nineveh. That choice led to his second sin: refusing to preach to the Ninevites (Jnh 1:1–3, 17). Banks (1966:109) sees a significant warning from Jonah’s story: Yes, Jonah was sincere – but sincerely wrong.

Both ‘Time Outs’ demonstrate God’s punishment and redemption to his equally ranked servants. Each prophet disobeyed God by action and attitude; each faced public, custom-designed consequences. No doubt their separate communities learned by their examples!

Yet, Numbers 12 is not the last word on the three remarkable, gifted siblings. The Lord, through the prophet Micah, honours the trio as gifts to Israel (cf. Allen 2012:198). Reminding the people of their deliverance from Egypt, the Lord says, ‘I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam’ (Mi 6:4).

Human emotions such as bitterness and anger are not isolated; they affect others (cf. Powlison 2016:10, 48); they span the genres of poetry and narration. Stated emotions by a story’s character often influence its tone (Lostracco & Wilkerson 2008:58). Furthermore, strong emotions illustrate preparation, a dramatic term foreshadowing a future action (Bonazza & Roy 1968:5).

Naomi expressed bitterness toward God because of her losses – the deaths of her husband and sons (Rt 1:13, 20–21). She felt empty and abandoned by God; her name, meaning ‘sweetness’, no longer fit her (Schwab 2012:1291, 1319). She meditated on her bitterness (Rt 1:1, 13, 20–21). In what seems to be an intentional slight (or maybe a narrational silence), Naomi failed to introduce Ruth to her neighbours upon their Bethlehem arrival (Rt 1:21–22).

Jonah fumed because of God’s command that he go to the Ninevites, Israel’s hated enemies, and preach repentance! Jonah eventually went – but most reluctantly! Yet, he preached one of the Bible’s shortest and most effective sermons: ‘Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown!’ (Jnh 3:4). When the Ninevites from the king down repented, Jonah pouted; he petulantly accused God of being true to character – gracious and abounding in steadfast love (Jnh 4:2).

Jonah’s anger reflected irritability; he was easily ticked off (Powlison 2016:37). His anger toward God made him not only try to flee from God’s presence, but also wish for death (Perry 2006:85, 72). Perhaps because anger takes so much physical energy and concentration, it narrows one’s perspective.

Naomi’s self-diagnosis of bitterness reflected old hurts and long-term anger (Powlison 2016:37). Naomi greeted her Bethlehem neighbours saying she went away full and had now returned empty and bitter. Her attitude and words revealed her vulnerability (cf. Warren 2021:60). However, while she may be bitter and had lost her sons and husband, she was not empty. She had Ruth, her daughter-in-law and companion, standing silently beside her (Rt 1:19–23; Levine 1992:80).

Studies show that men slightly surpass women in terms of expressing anger (Myers 2007:527). However, women tend to experience emotional events with more intensity than do men and to remember them with more accuracy (Myers 2007:526).

Perhaps emotional intensity was the reason Naomi did not respond to her neighbours’ joy months later when Ruth has a son, Obed, after her marriage to Boaz (Rt 4). Yet, over many months, the loss or death cycle (that began this beloved story of two women) has been reversed; Naomi now tended a son, a ‘restorer’, and has standing in the community (cf. Schwab 2012:1344–1346). The baby’s squeals and gurgles arguably silenced her anger and poured balm on her bitterness.

Jonah 4 emphasised the prophet’s deep displeasure and anger over Nineveh’s repentance and God’s reversal of destruction (Limburg 1988:155). After all, Jonah’s God was territorial and only for Israel! As Limburg (1988) states:

Clearly the Lord’s gentleness toward anger and bitterness directed at him are themes in the books of Ruth and Jonah. A verse from a hymn by Williams (1950) might apply (after reflection and repentance) to Jonah and Naomi:

David, Jesse’s eighth and therefore least important son, and an unnamed Israelite slave girl gave two of the Bible’s sweetest, boldest, and most profound statements of faith. God magnificently honoured their confident declarations. Their stories compare nicely.

Firstly, David carried supplies to his brothers in Saul’s army and heard Goliath, the Philistine giant, challenge and terrify the Israelite soldiers. His taunts incensed David. Secondly, an Israelite child, captured by a raiding Aram band, became a slave in the household of Naaman, the famous commander of the army of Aram’s king. But Naaman had leprosy. The unnamed child had compassion – and a solution!

David arrived at the battle standoff between the Israelites and Philistines, heard Goliath’s taunts, and ‘was incredulous that everyone was cowering before the infidel’ (Peterson 1999:98). Hamilton (2001:257–258) believes Goliath, a giant measuring possibly nine feet nine inches, can be seen as either comical or terrifying. The Israelites cowered, but David knew an ill-founded taunt when he heard it.

Goliath defamed Israel’s God and army. David called out to the Philistine, rebuked him, and prophesied his fate to all: ‘You, Giant, will die because of your irreverent words!’ Although but a lad, David is the man for this moment. Peterson (1999:98) describes him as one ‘with a God-dominated imagination’. David’s confidence convinced King Saul, a seasoned man of war, to allow the confrontation.

David faced Goliath, that fearsome warrior, with prophetic words:

David first stunned Goliath with a round stone which he hurled with precision from a sling, and then killed the giant with his own sword!

The narrative tool of empathy surrounds the story of Naaman’s healing. Because the Lord had given this Syrian foreigner victory over Israel, the narrator’s tone in 2 Kings 5 is pro-Naaman. The Israelite slave girl expressed her concern for him – and the reader sympathises too (Nelson 1987:177).

The Israelite slave girl found a home in Naaman’s household. The general and his wife must have been kind to their slaves. The child seems to have loved them and felt their tremendous pain over the general’s disease. She gave the couple words that surely rank among Scripture’s most cherished: ‘If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy’ (2 Ki 5:3). She never changed that statement (Branch 2018:140–141). The desperate couple believed her. The child’s winsome faith and confidence led to one of Scripture’s greatest miracles.

The narrators of each story display a favourable, straightforward point of view toward the children (Lostracco & Wilkerson 2008:59). Taking a cue from Brueggemann, both stories directly reflect children who think immediately of Yahweh, and accordingly give shocking speeches, show themselves to be quite amazing, and express a faith their elders and hearers lack. Truly, these two children changed the world (cf. Brueggemann 1990:131).

Verse 3 of ‘A Place at the Table’ mentions children in a special way (Murray 2001):

Evil lacks gender boundaries, as the reigns of Jeroboam 1 and Athaliah attest. Standard phrases in 1 and 2 Kings for summarising a king’s reign are these: He did what was right in the sight of the Lord, or he did what was evil in the sight of the Lord (cf. 1 Ki 15:11; 16:25 respectively). The measuring rod for evil became Jeroboam 1, the first king of the northern kingdom.

Jeroboam’s story chronicles one of Scripture’s most amazing character changes. He fell from one recognised for his fine abilities (1 Ki 11:28) to one known for idolatry (cf. Pratt 1995:318). Jeroboam progressively showed increasing levels of disobedience during his reign of 22 years (1 Ki 14:6–11, 20). Instead of letting Jeroboam’s line carry on, the Lord decreed his punishment: the total extermination of every male in his household whether in the city or in the country (1 Ki 14:10–16; Auld 1986:99). The prophet, Ahijah, decreed these deaths would start as soon as Jeroboam’s wife re-entered the city (1 Ki 14:12).

However, the death of their son, Abijah, would really be a blessing because, evidently, he was a darling child, beloved by the populace. The honour that ‘all Israel buried him and mourned for him’ (1 Ki 14:18) [author’s italics] was granted to him. Significantly, all Israel also mourned for Moses and Samuel, the historic greats (Dt 34:8; 1 Sm 25:1; Branch 2018:91–92, 212 n29).

One subsequent monarch, the woman Athaliah, also is associated with evil. Born in the house of Omri, Athaliah served the Canaanite god, Baal. As a political bride, she brought her religion with her to her arranged marriage to King Jehoram (Branch 2018:151). When their son, Azariah, died after one year of reign, Athaliah killed all in the royal family and placed herself on the throne. By accident, she missed one, Joash, the infant son of Azariah and therefore Athaliah’s grandson. Joash and his nurse were hidden in the house of the Lord for six years while Athaliah reigned (Branch 2018:151–153).

A well-planned coup led by Jehoiada, the Yahwist priest, toppled Athaliah. Her only recorded speech – ‘Treason! Treason!’ (2 Ki 11:14) – displayed self-deception and irony. It was she, by her murders and unlawful ascent to the throne, who committed treason!

Park and Pilarski (2019:146, 158) note two aspects of Athaliah: She became a monster who killed her family without justification but also faced no wars or major difficulties in her six-year reign. Auld (1986:194), however, sees Athaliah as trying to establish a heritage of Baal worship, ‘for after all, she came from the house of Omri’. Jehoiada, the coup’s mastermind, completes the destruction of Ahab’s line with Athaliah’s death (Leithart 2006:228). Furthermore, her death re-installs political legitimacy to Judah and restores the worship of Yahweh (Leithart 2006:229).

Ezekiel 13 presents a fine illustration of gender balance in one chapter. It contains virtually an equal split of the Lord’s wrath against false male prophets and false female prophets. The groups ‘promised a false sense of security’ (Deen 1955:367–368). Unlike these Ezekiel 13 prophets, a true prophet reflects God’s character. A godly prophet cares for God’s people, faithfully presents God’s covenant, acknowledges forgiveness when there is repentance, and realises that God takes ‘no pleasure in the death of anyone’ (Van der Walt 2021:142).

However, the false male prophets, unlike their contemporary, Ezekiel, prophesied from their imagination and not from a vision; therefore, a punishment for them would be that their names would not be listed in the records of Israel – which meant that they would be excluded from the community (Duguid 1999:171).

The book’s false male prophets prophesied peace that would not come true, and false female prophets sewed attachments as bands on their wrists. The men said, ‘The Lord said’, but the Lord countered that he had not sent them (Ezk 13:6). They practiced self-deception (Blenkinsopp 1990:70).

The female prophets acted like predators, for they hunted for human lives (Ezk 13:18). The Lord strongly chided them: ‘You have profaned me among my people’ (13:19). The women’s ‘nefarious activities’ greatly affected the people’s ‘moral and spiritual order’, because ‘the righteous were disheartened and the wicked were encouraged’ (Taylor 2002:404). The Lord’s response indicated the women may have been influenced by Mesopotamian anti-witchcraft rituals (cf. Bowen 1999:420, 433).

The false prophecies of the women and men spread confusion, particularly ‘distress to the righteous and false confidence to the wicked’ (Duguid 1999:175). Significantly, the Lord’s reprimand is gender-neutral, for the Lord decreed that both the male and female prophets shall know ‘I am the Lord’ (Ezk 13:14, 23; cf. Blenkinsopp 1990:68).

The category of double names provides a good transition between the Old Testament and New Testament. Naming indicates special attention. Doubling a name can prelude a rebuke, an upcoming designation as a prophet, or a self-declaration (cf. Table 2; Branch 2021) [Branch 2021]). Repetition (in this case name doubling) focuses a reader or hearer on the intensity and importance of the moment (cf. Alter 1981:88–113).

Like the word Behold!, a doubling alerts all – reader, hearer, participant. It prevented Abraham’s hand from sacrificing his son, commissioned Moses, and summoned the youngster, Samuel.

The Lord’s amazing self-declaration (Ex 34:6–7) provides Scripture’s most wonderful doubling. The passage functions as a fuller revelation of God’s character and attributes ‘and as a confession of faith in God and God’s redeeming work’ (Bruckner 2008:391). Fretheim (1991:302) adds that this new emphasis on divine mercy, steadfast love, and patience stresses ‘the unconditionality of divine love to Israel’. Indeed, instead of starting with military might, the Lord identifies himself by pity, good manners, so much love and faithfulness that they tumble over each other, and the guarantee that it takes a lot to make him mad. James 3:17 records a similar, eightfold description – this time describing the gift of wisdom from on high.

Concerning young Samuel, God spoke to him ‘repeatedly, patiently’, at a time when the prophetic ‘word of the Lord was rare’ (Largen 2005). Over time, Samuel became Israel’s acknowledged prophet and the anointer of two kings, Saul and David (1 Sm 10:1; 16:13).

David’s response to learning that his son, Absalom, was dead presents a slight doubling variant. David wails, ‘O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!’ (2 Sm 18:33).

Jesus settled a household dispute in Mary’s favour but honoured Martha. Doubling Martha’s name put her in a special class, indicating something of significance would be associated with her. It was. She is the first woman recorded as saying that Jesus is the Messiah (Jn 11:27; Branch 2021).

Jesus’ last words on the cross present another doubling. He cried, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Mt 27:46). David voiced the same in Psalm 22:1. The duplication presents two prayers from two men desperate for immediate help (cf. Miller 2006:750). People throughout the ages have better understood Jesus and the covenant tradition he represented by his use of this Psalm (cf. Mays 1994:105–106).

Jesus loved the home of Martha, and her siblings, Lazarus and Mary. Jesus and his entourage seemed to arrive whenever his itinerant scheduled permitted (cf. Branch 2023). Luke records one of these unexpected visits (Luke 10:38-42). It revealed a sisterly spat. Martha immediately set to work preparing food for many hungry men. But Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, raptly listening to him. Increasingly annoyed, Martha demanded that Jesus tell Mary to help her. Her outburst became a teaching moment. Jesus honoured Martha by doubling her name (v. 41); he stated what everybody saw: she was worried and upset over many things; he allowed Mary to stay and listen.

Saul, a Jew ‘breathing out murders’ threats against the Lord’s disciples’ (Ac 9:1), was confronted via a light and the voice of the One he accused (v. 3). Saul responded by falling to the ground, listening, and beginning to realise that he – not the followers of the Way whom he zealously pursued and persecuted – was the one mistaken (Lamoreaux 2008).

Peterson (1999:38), writing of God’s summons of young Samuel, states that ‘personal address, not philosophical discourse or moral commentary or theological reflection, is God’s primary form of speech’. Surely that statement extrapolates for generations! How wonderful to see this evidence: God knows our names!

Suggested additional Old Testament topics for gender balance are the following: