In today’s post my sister-in-law, Sheri Yutzy, reflects on her experience of being an Anabaptist woman.
Recently I was listening to an interview of Dr. Amy Peeler by Preston Sprinkle on his podcast, Theology in the Raw. They discussed Dr. Peeler’s recently published book, Women and the Gender of God.
Being a woman raised in a conservative Mennonite home and culture creates a peculiar sort of a haze in the mind when one considers where one fits in the image of God. There are many good, solid things about Anabaptism today, but a vibrant recognition of woman’s place in God’s image and story is not one of them.
In the year before I turned thirty, while pregnant with my third child, I stumbled into a kind of enlightenment that felt more like walking through a dark and shadowy cave. It took more than a year before I recognized it for what it was: I was molting my old skin, and emerging as a new creature in Christ.
I was no longer waiting for a man in my life to tell me what to believe.
This was no “I’m not letting any man tell me what to do!” sentiment.
It dawned on me softly, like a spring sunrise. A gentle sense of freedom, independence, and responsibility. Every scripture that mentions a Christian’s repentance and new life makes it clear: We are each responsible for our own faith.
We’re called to submit to each other, to respect authority, but the responsibility to believe and learn what we should believe is ours.
If you’re a man (bless you for reading this), I can hardly describe to you what it’s like to live in a culture where your personal responsibility for belief (either subtly or obviously) is smothered beneath a blanket of submission and silence simply because you were born a certain gender.
My awakening brought with it both anger and delight, a feeling of betrayal and a steadying sense of calling. While searching for balance and a new way to look at my world, I found comfort in the person of Jesus.
Dr. Peeler’s invitation for women to find themselves in God’s image, in his story, was a beautiful reminder. God is not male, but he has chosen to reveal himself as Father. Jesus, the Son of God, was born as a male.
Into this story, God brought Mary. Here, Dr. Peeler says, we can uncover a place for ordinary women, if we let Mary be an ordinary woman.
Scripture and all our creeds make it clear that God moved in Mary in a way that was not sexual. God is not biologically male. And so the Son of God was born of a woman, and only a woman. This woman who went on to support Jesus throughout his ministry, even unto his death. He remembered her while he hung in agony.
In his interview, Preston Sprinkle asks Dr. Peeler if many Christian women struggle to find their place in the story of Jesus because of how little women seem to be involved. My immediate response was that I’ve never struggled to find myself in the story of Jesus, because of his actions and demeanor. Jesus is male, but the way he related on earth is utterly compelling to me. He was fierce in the face of injustice. Endlessly gentle when addressing the weak and struggling. He wept. He cared for his friends. He loved his mother.
Yes, I often struggle to find a place where I feel valued, seen, and respected in my culture. Where I can give all that I am and be received with blessing.
But in the heart and life of Jesus, I am always at home.