I Am Not Eve

‘She is the crescendo, the final, astonishing work of God. Woman. In one last flourish creation comes to a finish not with Adam, but with Eve. She is the Master's finishing touch… Eve is… breathtaking.’  

(‘Captivating’, Stasi Eldredge)

“But I am not Eve”, I tell myself.

“I’m plain. I’m nothing special. I’m ugly. I’m impure. I have too many flaws to be a finishing touch. I could never be described as breaktaking. I’m a mistake.”

    How many of us have heard these words in our minds or even on our lips? We know the creation of Woman. We may even love it. And yet we separate ourselves from it. We place Eve of a pedestal and marvel at the creativity of her Creator and stand in awe and wonder at the glory and goodness of God. We proclaim “Yes! This is the crown of creation!", yet we reject that truth about ourselves.

 

    But here is the truth we so often neglect: Eve is not a goddess. Eve is a woman. She’s a woman just like you and me.

    Eve’s innate beauty is the way she reflects the beauty of the God whose image and likeness she was made in, and for that reason her beauty is the very thing that will inevitably come under the most attack from the enemy – who doesn’t want her to know her true identity. He doesn’t want her to know the power of who she truly is.  

    You, too, bear the image and likeness of your Creator. You, too, have power in your identity. You, too, are breaktaking. 

    … And so you, too, are a threat to the enemy. And he SHOULD be afraid of you! But, sister, you have no reason to fear yourself! We daren’t recognise our own beauty because Satan has planted his own fear in us. So we criticise and fantasise and agonise. 

    Catherine of Siena said “Be who you were created to be and you will set the world on fire!” Well, let me ask you this: What would happen if each of us were to truly know, embrace who we are as daughters of God. Can you envision the day that Satan realises He no longer has any hold on us because we have no doubt in our God-given identity and inheritance? ‘He conquered by a woman, and now a woman conquers him. She that was once his weapon is now his destroyer, brave and invincible.’ (John Crysostom). 

 ‘You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord.’ (Isaiah 62:3)

You, dear sister. YOU shall be a crown of beauty.

You ARE a crown of beauty. You are the crown of all creation, and your Father looks at His creation in you and declares “Behold, it is very good!”

… And no, I am not Eve. But I am something greater. I am a unique creation. That uniqueness means that womankind – the crown of creation – is not complete without every single one of us. You are necessary for Woman to be complete.

Where are the men?

    Whenever I read about male or female identity in the way God intended it, something within me comes alive. My heart burns to see those identities restored within our nation and within our Church. I long for men and women alike to truly know their identities in Christ: to know not only the unique gifts that they can bring to the world around them, but also to know that they are gifts themselves. My vision is that by being secure in their God-given identity, these men and women will be able to confidently step into the calling God has placed on each of their lives. 

    Working in youth ministry, I’ve noticed how many of the people in pastoral positions serving as role models for young people, aside from priests, are female. Research has shown that children are more likely to remain in the Church if their father has provided a model of faith, yet a high proportion of the Catholic Church is female. I know the ideal of authentic manhood, I believe it exists and I long to see it in action. But, if I’m honest with myself, there are a lot of moments when the question buried deep in my heart – and I believe the hearts of many of us – emerges: ‘Where are the men?’ I’m disappointed to know that the doubt exists within me, but it’s one which takes determination and a lot of faith to challenge.

    In my ministry I have the privilege of visiting a lot of different parishes around the country, and witnessing a pretty good cross-section of the Church. At times it’s naturally easy to be critical of the church set-up and in particular the gender balance, but right when I need the reminder, God always points me towards the signs of hope that, in my cynicism, I overlook. 

    Not long after I joined my Catholic community, around 15 of the men in the community staged a flash mob of ‘Let It Go’ in bold, deeps tones during a talent show to support a couple of nervous little girls eager to showcase their favourite song.

    A few months ago I had a really fruitful conversation with the assistant head of a school my team were going to be visiting, standing in the porch after mass whilst his 3 year old son clung to his leg and his 18 month old daughter used his shoulders as a climbing frame.

    The other day I noticed a man sitting a few rows in front of me in mass with his hand outstretched on a piece of paper for his 2 year old daughter to draw around (or more accurately scribble over!) whilst listening intently to the homily. It struck me that he seemed to be depicting the ideal of manhood within the Church: whole-heartedly seeking the Word of God whilst being a strong, calm presence providing love and security for his child. 

    This is fatherhood. This is man as he was created to be. These are men of God, and men of the Church. They are models of leadership within their families, teachers of the gospel to their children, servants to their community and defenders of the faith. Above all they are sons who know their sonship, and they are beacons of hope – both in our Church and in my heart!

Being Man's Eucharist

    One of my favourite things about my Catholic faith is the idea that the mass is a wedding feast – the supper of the Lamb. What amazes me every single time I go to mass is that Jesus doesn’t simply invite us to sit at the table with Him, He invites us to the bridal chamber! In receiving the Eucharist He offers Himself totally to us and invites us to make ourselves vulnerable in offering ourselves totally to Him in what we can see as a spousal union: at the moment we consume His body, blood, soul and divinity in the Blessed Sacrament, each and every one of us is a bride joining with our Bridegroom. 

    At present I can only imagine what it’s like to walk down the aisle on my wedding day, but I LOVE the thought that as I walk down the aisle to receive communion, I’m approaching the One whom my soul desires above all else; the One who loves me with a jealous and all-consuming love; the One who sees me through and through and accepts every part of me; the One who never tires of telling me of the ravishing beauty He sees in me.

    We’re called, first and foremost, to devote ourselves completely to Jesus as His bride. But it’s also that mutual gift of self that we’re called to reflect in the vocation of marriage. The man and woman both make themselves vulnerable to the other, trusting that their vulnerability will be nurtured and protected, just as Jesus does when He offers Himself to us in the most vulnerable form of bread and wine, and just as we do for Him when we approach the Eucharist with eyes of faith in a miracle which we cannot see. 

    I once read a theory that, just as all women are called to spiritual motherhood, all men are called to spiritual priesthood. If priests are entrusted with the body and blood of Jesus in the Eucharist, what, then, is the equivalent for lay men – ‘spiritual priests’? The author’s answer was one which blew me away. Women! In the words of the great St John Paul II – ‘it is the duty of every man to protect the dignity of every woman’. So, in a very special way, we are like their Eucharist: the body, blood and life source which they are entrusted to protect.

“As keepers of the Eucharist and imitators of Christ, men have the special privilege of regarding women with the same reverence and tenderness as the Eucharist. When a man holds a woman, he holds the body of Christ in his hands.”

(Katrina J. Zeno; ‘Discovering the Feminine Genius’)

    The beauty I see in this is that, just as it’s Christ’s vulnerability in the Eucharist that allows us to join with Him in total communion, it’s through our vulnerability with each other that we enable each other to fulfil our vocation as men and women! In understanding the value of the Eucharist I understand more about my own value, and in growing in reverence for the body and blood of Jesus which I’m receiving I’m able to appreciate more confidently the way in which I deserve to be treated by a man!

    So, please, don’t be afraid of being vulnerable. Run to the altar to meet your bridegroom. Give yourself over to Him completely, knowing that in that gift of bread and wine He is doing the same for you.