This was supposed to just be a four-part blog, but as I was posting these
this week, I realized I had just a bit more to say. Smaller things, but
probably important.
1) What if you have no other vocation? What if you’re “just” a wife and
mother? (Or just a wife? Or just a mother?)
Well, in that case, my guess is there’s no “just” about it. Women like that
tend to be, in my experience, pillars of the church and community. They’re the
ones who take care of everyone behind the scenes, the ones who fill in the gaps
– gaps that might seem small, but that end up making all the difference in the
world. The old are comforted by them, the sick visited, the children watched,
the sad encouraged, the extra bit of running around and paperwork done, the
missionaries housed, the strangers welcomed . . . and piece by piece, this
looks small, but honestly: the world would fall apart without these “mere”
wives and mothers. And even if you think this superwoman isn’t you, take a
closer look: you might be surprised by what the Lord is accomplishing through
your hours and your days.
Or what He will accomplish. You might be in the middle of a time where you
feel you’re not even enough to take care of your own household. It’s okay:
serve Him there. Turn to Him; He will not forsake you. And remember that you
don’t know what He has in store for you, and no more do you know what He will
do with those sacrifices of yours that now seem so insignificant. We aren’t
allowed to see what’s coming and we aren’t always allowed to see the eternal
result of our work – and all our work is just gift, just grace, just
superfluous goodness in the kingdom that is entirely dependent on His great
virtue, not ours.
(Also, if you are in this place, and you find it a discouraging place, I
urge you to go and read
Milton’s great sonnet, which he wrote as his sight
disappeared. Remember: “they also serve who only stand and wait.”)
2) Okay, this is the harder piece, because this is where I’m likely to get things
thrown at me. But I felt like I needed so say it, especially after all my
emphasis on the essential
humanity of
women: I think women and men are different.
Phew! I know, I know, it’s shocking, but hear me out: we are different. Man
was created male and female, and what would be the point of that if we were
exactly the same? Moreover, basic biology tells us there is a difference and I
get
so annoyed when people ignore
basic biology.
(And that’s just the biology – I’m pretty sure there are some even less
tangible differences between the sexes, but I really don’t think I’m up to
articulating them – and I mean that literally: I doubt my
ability to do it. But being creatures who are not just physical,
but whose embodiment is part of our very nature, it would make sense that what
we see in our bodies is reflected in our souls. We’re very all-of-a-piece.)
The thing is though – and the reason I hesitated to say anything about this
– is I don’t have a worked-out, easily-stated philosophy of the difference
between the sexes. It’s a difference I can see more easily in real life and in good
stories than I can in coldly-stated philosophical statements. And that’s
probably a fault on my part.
So, before I go on, let me state really clearly:
These are my thoughts in progress. You know how you can have an
opinion about everything (and probably do), but you hold some opinions more
strongly than others? This is an opinion that’s a little weak. Not because I
think I’m wrong, but because I know it’s a huge and complicated subject that I
haven’t thought through well enough yet. So it’s an opinion I hold lightly,
because it seems not unlikely that I have some of it wrong.
But, with that huge caveat, here's what I see when I
think through it:
Women are more vulnerable than men. History teaches us this – sadly, the
daily news teaches us this. When people are being virtuous, this vulnerability
is no disadvantage. In marriage, women receive. In pregnancy, women nurture. In
childbirth, women break themselves in order to bring forth life. Can men
receive and nurture and so productively be broken? Yes, of course. But not in
the very
literal sense that women
can. (Huh – though as I think of it – Jesus is the sole exception to that last
one – His broken body produced more life than any woman ever could.)
And in good societies, in good marriages, in good families, these feminine abilities
are great gifts. They’re uniquely feminine opportunities for virtue and growth
and goodness. They’re great gifts.
In bad societies and families, they’re uniquely feminine opportunities for experiencing violence
and victimization.
And this is
just true. I hate it
when people act like it’s otherwise. The very reason we need all the
protections our laws afford women is because this is true. Are men victims of
violence? Of course. But not in the same systemic ways women are, and that’s
because, as a group, men are
less
vulnerable. (And that’s not even getting into the effect hormones may or
may not have on our daily emotional experience – not that that might not go the
other way, too: I understand men are much more likely to be sociopaths, for
example.)
St. Peter talks about men treating their wives kindly, as weaker vessels,
and I can’t help but think this vulnerability might be what he’s talking about.
As if he’s saying, “recognize that they are vulnerable in a way you aren’t,
that they are operating under hardships you don’t have to bear, and remember
also that
they are loved by your Lord, as
His good creatures, just as you are, and so don’t take advantage – though
you can – and don’t be unkind. They are the Lord’s, as you are, and so treat
them well, as you would be treated if you were them.”
I don’t know. I don’t presume to know I understand everything St. Peter
meant. But it seems to me clear that he was reminding men that women were
“fellow heirs of salvation” because the men needed to be reminded, and
reminding them to treat women kindly because we women need that kind treatment.
If we’re called to be mothers, we’re called to a specific kind of purposeful
vulnerability, in order that we might nurture our young, and in that
vulnerability, we need the protection of good men.
And if you think
that’s not true,
you need to read some more history. Or daily headlines. But you’ll find them
both pretty depressing. See what happens to women in cultures that haven’t been
influenced by Peter’s stern admonition about women being treated kindly as
fellow heirs of salvation (i.e., made in
the image of God, i.e.,
humans).
They’re squished, that’s what happens. Because they can be. And because nothing
stops the men from doing it.
And I don’t want to leave you depressed, or with the impression that the
weakness of women (because, in some ways, we really are weak) is all bad news.
It isn’t. Like I said: it presents us with unique opportunities to grow in
holiness. (I’m sure men’s strength provides them with unique opportunities,
too, but that’s not my topic here.) God’s strength is shown in weakness – that’s
so clear in Scripture – and so in some ways, we have a head start. Weird as it
is to look at it that way. But we can't ignore our vulnerability. It shouts at us. Sometimes I think men can ignore their weakness
(because all humans are weak and breakable) more easily than we can, and I can’t
imagine that’s to their eternal advantage. Realizing you're weak when you always thought you were strong - that's a pretty rude awakening, and one we all must have, one way or another.
Strength in weakness; God’s strength in our weakness: it’s a glorious thing.
Our prime example of this, of course, is Mary, who represented the entire
people of God – male and female – when she in her humility said, “May it be to
me as the Lord has said.”
May we all be more like her. And as we’re more like her, by God’s grace, may
we be more like Christ.
