I first came across the term “daughters of Jerusalem” when I began writing a paper for my Moral Theology class a few years ago. The topic of my paper was the Song of Songs; the daughters of Jerusalem make the short list of characters that exist in the story. Their purpose, in a nutshell, is listening to the female protagonist gush about the awesomeness that is her lover, test her convictions, and then gush right along with her. It’s not certain whether the ladies actually met the girl’s lover or the girl’s conviction alone was a veritable force of nature that swayed their opinion. It really doesn’t matter. The point is that the daughters of Jerusalem were witnesses to something worth writing down, worth committing to memory.

Interestingly enough, the exact phrase “daughters of Jerusalem” is not used again until late in the book of Luke. The crowds are howling for Jesus to be crucified and Barabbas to be released; among the mob is a group of women weeping at the injustice playing out before them. Jesus sees them and addresses them: “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children” (Lk 23:28). Whereas the daughters from the Old Testament are witnessing a real life version of “The Notebook”, the daughters of Luke’s story are witness to the farthest thing from love: hate. 

Everyone, by the fact of being alive, is a witness. We witness beautiful moments and ugly ones. Depending on the circumstances we are the beautiful or ugly moment being witnessed. I’ll be sharing my beautiful and ugly with you, my smart and my stupid. I hope you enjoy, and witness with me once in a while!