|
A Pro-Woman Pope
Why radical feminists can't hear the good words John Paul II has for women.
”Radical feminists, however, intransigently refuse
even to concede the Pope's good intentions. They regularly dismiss him with
anger and contempt, protesting everything from his opposition to abortion to
his devotion to the Virgin Mary.”
Pope John Paul II
welcomed 1995, the year of the Fourth United Nations Conference on Women, as
an occasion for Catholics to focus with special care upon the concerns,
needs, rights, and mission of women throughout the world. Beginning with his
World Day Message of Peace, delivered on January 1, the Pope developed his
thoughts about women in a series of Angelus reflections, culminating in his
Letter to Women addressed to the women of the world on June 29. Pope John
Paul II on The Genius of Women brings together excerpts from these writings
to present a comprehensive picture of contemporary Catholic understanding of
women's unique "genius."
Primarily, the Pope
intends to encourage women to reflect upon their condition and vocation, but
he also intends to challenge not merely radical feminists, who seek to
abolish all differences between women and men, but those religious
conservatives who seek to perpetuate women's subordination to and dependence
upon men. Doubtless the then-impending Beijing Conference led him to shape
many of his thoughts as a response to feminism, but no attentive reader will
miss his determination to overcome all vestiges of traditional misogyny,
including Christian.
John Paul II's
writings on women reflect a new tendency in Catholic thought, but they do
not constitute a radical departure. Since Vatican II, and with growing
insistence throughout the 1980s and 1990s, he and his immediate predecessors
have been elaborating an understanding of women that directly engages the
social, economic, and sexual upheavals of recent decades. John Paul II in
particular, with his extraordinary respect and love for the dignity of each
person, has regularly returned to the compelling importance of women's
vocation for the health and peace of specific societies and the world. Even
the skeptical will find it difficult to read these pages without
acknowledging, however grudgingly, that their author has a deep respect for
and sense of pastoral responsibility to women whom the world too often
demeans and abuses.
Radical feminists,
however, intransigently refuse even to concede the Pope's good intentions.
They regularly dismiss him with anger and contempt, protesting everything
from his opposition to abortion to his devotion to the Virgin Mary. Other
women and men, including many Christians, too readily assume that the
Catholic church's opposition to abortion and defense of the male priesthood
necessarily brand it as fundamentally hostile to women.
John Paul II's words
do not invite this hostility. In his welcome to Gertrude Mongella, secretary
general of the Beijing Conference, he claims that there can be no "honest
and permanent" solutions to the issues and problems that affect women if
they are not "based on the recognition of the inherent, inalienable dignity
of women, and the importance of women's presence and participation in all
aspects of social life." Indeed, recognition "of the dignity of every human
being," he insists, "is the foundation and support of the concept of
universal human rights."
In calling for
women's equal opportunities in the world of work, the Pope specifically
underscores the imperative of combating all forms of discrimination against
women, writing, "As far as personal rights are concerned, there is an urgent
need to achieve real equality in every area: equal pay for equal work,
protection for working mothers, fairness in career advancements, equality of
spouses with regard to family rights and the recognition of everything that
is part of the rights and duties of citizens in a democratic state." And,
with respect to political life and leadership, including "the highest levels
of representation, national and international," he holds that "women are
showing that they can make as skilled a contribution as men."
Throughout these
writings, the Pope returns to the special "genius" of women for peace, which
the world needs today more than ever. Yet authentic peace can never flourish
unless "the dignity of the human person is promoted at every level of
society and every individual is given the chance to live in accordance with
this dignity." Even today, in many parts of the world, women are denied
acknowledgment of and respect and appreciation for "their own special
dignity," and, in the measure that they are, society suffers. John Paul II
deplores the "abominable custom" that persists in some places of
"discriminating, from the earliest years, between boys and girls," and he
insists that the tendency to demean girls or regard them as inferior will
inevitably compromise their healthy development. As adults, women "have a
full right to become actively involved in all areas of public life, and this
right must be affirmed and guaranteed, also, where necessary, through
appropriate legislation."
John Paul II views
respect for "the full equality of man and woman in every walk of life" as
"one of civilization's great achievements." But he attributes the inherent
equality of man and woman to God's divine plan, asserted from the beginning
of the biblical narrative of Creation. Equally with man, woman bears the
imprint of the image of God. Before the Fall, man acknowledged the equality
of woman, whom he welcomed with wonder and joy as "bone of my bones and
flesh of my flesh." (Gen. 2:23) Sin, however, disrupted God's plan for the
full and equal communion between the equally independent beings of woman and
man. The essential complementarity of the sexes persisted after the Fall,
but its fulfillment has suffered innumerable setbacks, frequently manifest
in the denigration of women or the willful crippling of their talents.
Some, like myself,
see this simultaneous affirmation of woman and man's complementarity and
their equality as a compelling expression of the complex reality of
contemporary women's lives and sense of self. Women today appropriately
insist upon their equality to men in most realms, and they passionately
defend their right to develop and exercise their talents to the full--in the
world as well as in the family. Many also retain a sense of specific ways in
which they differ from men. The significance of those differences may have
vastly diminished, but the core remains, notably in their most intimate
relations with others. The Pope's reflections upon women--their vocations,
their rights, their needs--thus intervene directly in the contemporary
debates about women, feminism, and the postmodern world.
These statements and
others like them do not obviously label the Pope as an enemy of women's
interests, and some women may well understand them as "feminist" in the
sense of advocacy for women. Yet radical feminists, with Catholic feminists
in the lead, take them as incontrovertible proof of the Pope's determination
to condemn women to the subordination from which feminists are trying to
rescue them. According to these critics, the Pope betrays his true
intentions by his frequent evocation of women's special vocation as wives
and mothers and by his reverence for the Virgin Mary. Such models of
womanhood, they angrily charge, unmistakably concede that women may never
hope to equal men and do not deserve support for their attempts to do so. As
a rule, feminists, including those who sometimes insist upon the ways in
which women differ from men, remain fiercely attached to the secular ideal
of radical individualism: Women, like men, should be free for the
unencumbered pursuit of any pleasure, occupation, or worldly success. And,
more often than not, they argue that this freedom must begin with the
freedom from the bearing and rearing of children as well as from the
domination of men.
Feminists rage at
the Pope's claims that "woman's singular relationship with human life
derives from her vocation to motherhood," that "the maternal mission is also
the basis of a particular responsibility," or that "the woman is called to
offer the best of herself to the baby growing within her" since "it is
precisely by making herself 'gift' that she comes to know herself better and
is fulfilled in her femininity." Many deplore his insistence that women's
employment must always respect the "fundamental duty" of the "most delicate
tasks of motherhood." Most do not like the notion that women's rights
include any binding duties at all. Rejecting the Pope's vision of the
responsibilities that accompany women's rights, feminists promote an
unrestricted freedom that disconcertingly resembles equal membership in what
he has called "the culture of death."
The crux of the
difference between the radical feminists and the Pope lies in their
respective and antagonistic understandings of women's nature and mission.
Feminists dismiss injunctions to service, binding obligation, and loving
self-sacrifice as so many hypocritical pieties designed to perpetuate
women's subordination to men. The Pope, in contrast, views them as
fundamental Christian precepts that require the compliance of men as well as
women. Complication arises primarily because he believes that those precepts
apply differently to women and men: no less compellingly to one sex than the
other, but differently. Feminists see that acknowledgment of difference as a
capitulation to received prejudice. And only the complacent or the
unreflective can deny that throughout the centuries the evocation of
difference has frequently served to justify women's subordination and to
restrict their freedom. Some might find a trace of support for this view in
the Pope's appeal to Catholic universities and centers of higher education
"to ensure that in the preparation of the future leaders of society they
acquire a special sensitivity to the concerns of young women." And,
occasionally, words like these do suggest that he may not view women as fit
for full participation in the corridors of power and influence--that he
expects few, if any, women to figure among society's future leaders.
The experience of
recent years has blindingly exposed the agonizing difficulty of attempts to
combine responsibility to a family, especially children, with a professional
fast track, or simply with full-time employment. The Pope is effectively
arguing that wives and mothers have a moral obligation to put their family
first. Feminists argue that women have no greater obligation to do so than
men. Unfortunately, when parents struggle over who should be freer to do
less, the children get less and less, with ominous consequences for the
human and moral fabric of society as a whole. Normally, few would fault the
Pope's quiet insistence that the abundance of love and peace in the world
ultimately depends upon the personal education each child receives in the
family. Such education, however, depends upon service--the service of
parents, frequently mothers, to children--and upon a willingness to forgo or
postpone acquisition of the signs of status most valued by the world.
Feminists are not alone in protesting the assumption that women are
naturally called to sacrifice ambitions that men are free to fulfill. Many
women wonder why they should be called to a service that men and many other
women disdain. The Pope's recurring demand that the world accommodate
women's needs as wives, mothers, and workers, like his insistence upon
women's right to equal dignity and opportunity, testifies to his
understanding of the difficulties and the pain. But he insists that to
surmount these conflicts women must cultivate the peace of heart that frees
them to be teachers of peace: "Inner peace comes from knowing that one is
loved by God and from the desire to respond to his love."
For Christians, this
injunction applies as much to men as to women, but Christian teaching has
traditionally held that it applies to them differently. In these writings,
John Paul II seeks to reaffirm the difference while he combats the
oppressive and exploitative uses to which it has been put. In a corrupt
world, his admirable vision remains elusive and formidably difficult to
realize. Women will understandably continue to wonder how much they can
afford to sacrifice without the assurance of support for themselves and
their children. These legitimate worries admit no easy answers, but, in
facing the risks, we might profitably reflect upon the Pope's essential
message: The rising tide of the culture of death will not be stayed until
individuals, one by one, begin to repudiate its claims upon their souls.
Elizabeth
Fox-Genovese teaches history, literature, and women's studies at Emory
University.
Return to Resources |