It’s nearly 1:30 a.m. and I’m at the office, wrapping up some stuff I need to get done. Tonight, Aaron brought up the concept of marriage, wives, family, and a number of other things. Maybe it was because his grandma turned ninety-one today and it got him thinking. Either way, the result was that the topic is now on my mind. Please allow me to think outloud as this certainly doesn’t apply to me at this stage in my life. It’s more of a larger cultural observation that I’m sending out into the great cosmic void (to quote Kathleen Kelly.)
In the past, I’ve spent considerable effort trying to reconcile the fact that much of what it is to which we adhere as gospel is merely social convention wrapped in the cloak of piety. The Song of Solomon glorifies the act of making love, admonishing the strength of the man and the breasts of the woman; the pursuit and the enjoyment of finding solace in another’s arms yet, still, for eight centuries, the world grew ashamed of sex because of the teachings of Thomas Aquinas and his “everything for its purpose” theology that led to the belief that copulation, except with the intent of procreation, was not only offensive, but sinful.
Tonight, as I sit here by the fireplace and a cup of coffee, the role of women in society is on my mind. It’s not often that I reveal what is truly going on deep within my heart, but for some reason it seems important. In Proverbs 31, we see the image of the perfect wife; the ideal woman who is praised by her husband, children, and peers. Clothed in wisdom and grace. Grace. That word isn’t understood anymore. When was the last time you saw a twenty-year old wearing a cashmere sweater and a set of her grandmother’s pearls? A woman so comfortable in her own divinity, crafted in the image of God, that she knows, on the deepest level her own worth with all humility. Who doesn’t put herself on sale and attempt to subsist on the empty scraps thrown to her by nameless boys at yet another nameless party. (more…)
