Addendum I: Vocabulary for Frank

Frank asked me what the phrase “gift of self” might mean, with the disclaimer that as my “token non-christian reader” he didn’t know.  First of all, I want to give a shout-out to the other non-Christians who read this blog – I know that at least one other of my loyal 3.5 readers shies away from any religious persuasion.  Secondly, I want to give a shout-out to those Christians/Catholics who might read this and think, “Well, I don’t exactly know what ‘gift of self’ means either.”

It’s a hallmark John Paul II phrase, lifted especially from his Theology of the Body, so there is no way I will do justice to it in one post.  If you really want to understand the phrase, read Man and Woman He Created Them, JPII’s audiences on the theology of the body compiled into one book.  And read it with a competent moral theologian by your side.  (Ooh-ooh-pick-me-pick-me!  I’m looking for a job!)  I’ll do my best, however.

Gift of self, or self-gift, describes how persons relate to each other.  It means giving of oneself in a full and free manner, an openness towards the other that says, “I am yours,” and does not hold back.  It is a self-offering that is love.  For JPII, the preeminent example is the Trinity: the Father pours Himself out to the Son, the Son reciprocates this love to the Father, and the love bursts forth to be the Spirit. 

For my non-Christian readers, or the Christians who haven’t pondered the Trinity in this manner, the primary earthly example is marital love.  Husband and wife give themselves to the other in a love that encompasses all aspects of their being.  In the words of Scott Hahn, “this love is so tangible that nine months later you have to give it a name.”  It is total (hence, no divorce) and life-giving (hence, babies) and consists of an orientation of oneself to the other and a strong will for the good of the other. 

I feel like I’ve been talking around it for long enough now that hopefully this sheds some life on self-gift.  If not, question away, and I will revisit the topic – possibly while studying for my Theology of the Body exam!

Thoughts after Comps Season

Normally, I let exam grades fade into the past without comment, and the good disappear with the bad.  Since I made comps such a big deal on here, however, I figure I should mention: scores came out!  Everyone passed!  Even this girl right here, who managed to impress her professors some.  Thanks for the prayers and encouragement, loyal readers!

What I Have Taught My Feminism, Part III

(Go do your catch-up reading if you've missed Part II!)

The discomfort of my feminism as I write that who I am as a woman makes no sense except in relation to man (and again as I type it, and again as I post it) is palpable.  I have, for years, been on a quest to find the true meaning of femininity.  As a good feminist, I set out to find the definition of woman without reference to man.  I found two extremes: defining woman by a certain cultural/historical set of behaviors and values or collapsing gender differences to create a false equivalency.  I was unsatisfied wherever I turned.  If we can define man without reference to woman, shouldn’t we be able to do the opposite?

When I read the beginning of JPII’s Theology of the Body, it hit me.  I’d been getting it backwards.  Man was defined in isolation, woman with reference to man.  I knew woman was misdefined, so surely the approach to defining her was wrong; I needed to imitate the definition of man.

But what if the definition of man was wrong too?  What if man only makes sense in reference to woman?  This is the claim I make: masculinity and femininity are mutually referential and only make sense in relationship with each other.  Bodily, this makes sense.  Our physical bodies anticipate the opposite as complement.  I propose, once more following JPII, that our physical bodies give exterior shape to our interior selves.

In this case, it does woman no wrong to explain who she is with reference to (and in contrast to) man; it does man no wrong to explain who he is with reference to (and in contrast to) woman.  Indeed, any attempt at an isolated definition will do an injustice to femininity or masculinity,  It cannot but be a reductive view.

Does this mean that I have reached a perfect understanding of femininity, which I can now fully explicate for you?  Alas, no.  That is still a work in progress (though I hope to continue talking around the question here for a while yet).  A lot more work and research are necessary before I get there.  I am, however, making progress in developing the proper framework for asking the question, which is necessary for finding the answer.  

What I Have Taught My Feminism, Part II

Housekeeping Notes:

1. Read Part I first, if you have not already done so.
2. If you read Frank's comment (or if you are Frank!), do not fear!  I am writing an answer to his question... It will come at the end of Part III.

The necessity of vulnerability does not mean we must be completely open and vulnerable with everyone we encounter to be fully human.  Prudence allows us to respond to human sin.  Our relationships with other require a balance of prudence with openness, always guided by caritas.  It does mean that vulnerability is bad, is not something to be avoided.  It is a beautiful expression of our humanity.  And, because of the inherent risk, it requires a certain courage, a certain strength to live it out.

Now, you may have noticed an implication in this discussion of vulnerability, which leads to the next lesson I taught my feminism. 

If self-gift is essential to humanity, then no human being can truly exist in isolation.  We can only fully realize our selves as persons if we do so in relation to other persons.  What a blow to my ideal of self-sufficiency!  I like to imagine myself capable of complete independence.  Alas, JPII tells me otherwise. And it gets worse.  The ultimate self-gift – the opening of self and reception of other – happens in marital love.  Not only do I as a person not make sense except in relation to another person, but I as a woman do not makes sense except in relation to man.

What I Have Taught My Feminism, Part I

Now that you have done your assigned reading, it is time for the next chapter of Beth's feminist musings, "What I Have Taught My Feminism."

[Read the first series here.]

Now that I have begun, I might as well continue to develop a few more thoughts on vulnerability and gender. Again, I want to put these musings into a wider context; this time, “What I Have Taught My Feminism.” My feminism has taught me valuable lessons, but on occasion, I have had to instruct it, especially when I try to make it play nicely with my Church. There are two lessons in particular that I want to focus on, because of how crucial they are for correcting misunderstandings between my feminism and my Church.

First: Vulnerability is not a bad thing. The opposite assumption comes not just from my feminism, but from our society as a whole. And I am, as a stubbornly independent woman, perhaps particularly susceptible to it. As a basic, working definition I give, “the potentiality to be hurt.” It need not imply an actual being hurt: a newborn child, with the wisest, most doting parents, is extremely vulnerable. We don’t like vulnerability: it implies helplessness, weakness, and passivity. What about that sounds good?

The helplessness, I suppose, is part of the definition of vulnerability, but I mean to contend that the other two are not, or need not be. Vulnerability can be accompanied by an active strength, because it is can be primarily a factor of opennesss.

Or, to use the words of everyone’s favorite Polish Pope, it is about gift of self. The meaning of our humanity – of being a person – is the ability to make a gift of ourselves and to accept the gift of another. This is a huge starting point for his theology of the body. We are our bodies. In the beginning, this gift was safe because no one would think of harming another. Now, however, the gift involves risk – risk of exploitation or rejection. Thus gift of self = vulnerability. The catch is: gift of self = only true way to be a person. Vulnerability is intrinsic to our personhood and inescapable for our humanity.

Assigned Reading

... or rather viewing.  I don't watch things online -- I prefer to take in information through reading.  It goes at my own pace, allows me to skim, and doesn't make noises.  So this video sat in a perpetually opened tab for about two weeks before I watched it.  Now it's your turn: you need to see it as preparation for my next installment of "Beth the Feminist."  Oh, yeah, and it's a TED video, so it's good.  It's Brené Brown on "The Power of Vulnerability."

Day-Maker #79

Today, I got sunburned and Starbucks, two things that do not normally happen in Steubenville.