Faith & Spirit Quote by Anne Hutchinson

Hutchinson is doing two things at once: claiming the moral high ground of hospitality and baiting her judges into admitting what this trial is really about. The opening question sounds almost domestic - people show up at her door seeking instruction, so what kind of Christian would slam it shut? That plainspoken posture is strategic. It frames her meetings not as rebellion but as pastoral care, turning the Puritan authorities into the ones violating godly duty.

Then she pivots, and the steel shows. "What rule have I" is courtroom language disguised as conscience: show me the statute, the scripture, the legitimate boundary. In a colony that justified itself through divine order, demanding a "rule" forces the magistrates to reveal whether their authority is biblical or merely patriarchal convenience. Her second question presses harder. She doesn't merely ask for permission to teach women; she challenges the assumption that teaching is inherently male property. It's a quiet exposure of gender as governance.

The final line is the tell: "why do you call me to teach the court?" Hutchinson is not confused about her role; she's mocking the inversion. The court hauls her in as a defendant, yet keeps demanding her theology, as if her crime is being too articulate about grace. Subtext: you fear my interpretations because they compete with yours, and you need my speech to convict me. In the Antinomian Controversy, this was the nightmare scenario for Massachusetts Bay: a laywoman with a following, treating spiritual authority as something you can exercise in a living room without a clerical license. Her questions turn that fear into an indictment.