The influence of Mulieris Dignitatem in my life Gina Loehr

Were it not for John Paul II’s apostolic letter “On the Dignity and Vocation of Women,” I would no longer be Catholic. I would probably not be married, I would certainly not have had four children in the first six years of my marriage and most likely would never have had children at all. Now, I consider my family to be my most important “work,” my greatest and most fruitful contribution to the future of humanity. Before reading this document, I had developed fiercely negative opinions about the Church of my youth – specifically its teachings on sexual morality and the priesthood – as well as hostility toward the very ideas of marriage, maternity and virtually all things traditionally ‘feminine.’ During college in the late 1990’s I was steeped in anti-Christian secular feminism that nurtured these ideas. But when my younger brother, now a Dominican priest, handed me a copy of this letter, the ground began to shake beneath me. I described the experience in my book, Choosing Beauty: “By the grace of God, I actually read [Mulieris Dignitatem]. And I couldn’t believe my eyes. Here was the pope – the leader of this supposedly woman-hating organization – telling me that I had inherent value as a woman, that I was actually equal in dignity to men and that I had gifts that the world desperately needs. And not only that, this pope was actually acknowledging and apologizing for the way women have suffered through the centuries! He clearly argued that this oppression is the result of the very sin that Christ came to conquer, a mission the now carries on. My world turned upside down – or should I say right side up? I began wondering if the Church, rather than being the cause of all our problems might actually be the solution we were looking for... I decided to study theology. And much to my surprise, I learned that there were answers, very good answers, to all of my questions.” In her insightful presentation at the study seminar, Professor Helen Alvaré noted five “leading ways in which Mulieris Dignitatem accomplished what it did.” The fifth of these was exactly what struck me so profoundly in my personal journey. As the distinguished professor explained, “Mulieris Dignitatem identifies men’s tendency to dominate women as men’s original sin in relation women, versus what many had believed that the Church taught: that male domination was the natural order.” So, having become aware of this refreshing and correct view, I began my journey back into the arms of Mother Church. As I restored my relationship with this great Mater, I also restored my appreciation for motherhood itself, a theme the apostolic letter explores with great depth and beauty. This process took time, but it began with my reading of the document and found its culmination in eventually having my own children. Now, I have come to understand the tremendous impact that a mother can have on the world through the raising of her children. To this extent, society still lags behind the ideals presented in Mulieris Dignitatem, which emphasizes the great importance of “women who watch over the human persons in the family” (#31). Thus, we need to demand from society not only support for mothers who “work,” which is valuable and necessary, but also to demand from society a respect for the nobility of the “work” of the mother. We need to raise our voices in specific, concrete ways to proclaim the essential contribution made by mothers in the home. For example, as both a teacher and a mother, I can see clearly that the impact I have on my students – whom I see several hours a week for a semester or two – while influential, is of a different caliber than the impact I have on my children with whom I spend countless hours, days and years. The influence of the mother in the domestic sphere should not be dismissed as too mundane to be significant. The numbers of lives she touches in the home may be small, but the effect is tremendous. We as women need to find creative ways to remind society and culture of this fundamental truth. This is not to dismiss the importance of “spiritual motherhood,” however. When I teach, I also ‘mother’ my students by trying to nurture spiritual and personal maturity in them. I teach a course called “Women and Religion” to non-theology majors. In this course, I introduce Pope John Paul II’s concept of ‘the feminine genius’ and have the students read his , which touches on some of the themes of Mulieris Dignitatem. When I first taught this course, I expected resistance. I anticipated the students, particularly the young women, to be wrestling with the same feminist angst that I had in college. I expected criticism and skepticism towards the Catholic vision of femininity. But I have yet to encounter any. In my experience, many of the young people of today are beyond feminist anger. They are beyond ideology at all. They tend to be oblivious and apathetic at times, or else to parrot ideas that have been packaged and sold to them. I believe they are so used to other sources thinking for them (i.e. marketing and media) that they very willingly sit back – iPhone in one hand, Starbucks coffee mug in the other – and let the professor think for them too. Right or wrong, this gives those of us in teaching professions a tremendous opportunity. We must fill their minds with right thoughts. Planting Pope John Paul II’s words and images in the soil of their souls is a worthy endeavor. So too, I have found that the witness of the women saints goes a long way to form and shape a mature understanding of authentic femininity in my students. Without preaching about “traditional” feminine gifts directly, I have been able to provide my students with diverse and beautiful examples of the fruitfulness of feminine nature. Through the tangible, concrete examples of these women, we see not only how feminine freedom flourishes in the light of the Catholic faith, we also see how women through the ages have influenced their families, their communities, the Church and the world. Their collective witness also guarantees for us that the Church does not “expect” women to exist in some rigid, stereotypical state. On the contrary, the women saints give us countless models of the varied expressions of the “vocation of women” through history into the present day. In my class, I use my book on 100 women saints to make this point. In my introduction to Real Women, Real Saints I note that: “In these pages, God’s image is reflected in a hundred different forms. We will meet single women and married women; mothers, stepmothers, grandmothers and mother superiors; widowed, separated, divorced and post-abortive women. We will meet lay missionaries, catechists, and social activists; religious foundresses, hermits, active sisters, contemplative nuns and lay tertiaries; queens and peasants; children and the elderly; martyrs, mystics and theologians as well as the illiterate; teachers, nurses, businesswomen, doctors, gardeners, cooks, factory workers, housekeepers, artists and philosophers; converts and cradle Catholics; miracle workers and incorruptibles, who were preserved from decay after death; physically beautiful women and those who were plain or deformed; shy women and boisterous women; women who remind us of people we know (perhaps even ourselves) and women who are refreshingly unfamiliar.” Clearly, the feminine genius cannot be reduced to a sappy stereotype or a monotonous mold; it is too vast for such boring minimalism. The task is left up to each one of us, as women, to discover this genius in ourselves, to unveil it for our daughters and our students, and to thereby enlighten the world through its undimmed radiance.