At least once a week, someone reads my post about the "cloistered homeschool syndrome". What's going on out there? I'm deaf to almost all news, but most especially Christian news. I completely avoid reformed or homeschooling news. If you strike up a conversation with the words "Federal Vision", I might run (Prov. 22:3).
When it's news about one sect, reported by another sect, I turn away like most men (should) turn away from a scantily clad woman with inviting eyes. I say "NO!". It woos me, it seduces me: drama, conflict, arguments, logic, theology, passion! It's Temptation itself for me. I become overly concerned about them, when I have weeds in my garden that need to be pulled.
But when I get hits once a week for the same issue, well, I think I'll post again, just to see what happens. With the words 'seduce' and 'temptation' in this post, who knows? I might get
more hits than the original post, which is
only a link.
Since I left home after high school and discovered
calvinism,
reformed theology and
patriarchy, I've been THAT girl, ten times over.
I've been the single girl pining for a strong man to tell me what to do. In college I was convinced patriarchy was the solution to the world's troubles, and if families would only have better husbands sin would leave us alone. I moved out of my apartment with my roommate and rented a room with a Christian family. I wanted to "court" instead of date, and it turned out that I was doing everything myself, without input from anyone, and was essentially barking up the wrong tree. I learned to crochet and sew, and listened to everything I could on "biblical femininity".
The thing is, I don't like to sew. I didn't like that guy. And I loved my roommate.
I've also been that friend who handed out copies of
"Getting Serious About Getting Married". As a single lady, I devoured the ideas, and as a young married woman, I held meetings with single women to explain what they were doing wrong. I saw single ladies at the university I attended and I pitied them for having too much freedom.
Why didn't I pity them for not knowing that Jesus loved them?
Most unfortunately, I've been that wife. THAT one. The one who told her husband what to say, with what tone, and with what gestures, to make sure he gave off the right patriarchal vibes. I would become frustrated with my DH (dear husband, you know) if he wasn't guiding our family in the direction I knew we should go. I resented his quiet, calm demeanor, because everyone knows that you can't be a biblical husband if your wife likes to talk more than you do.
And of course, we now know that we're a lovely couple, when we only try to be the Aaron and Kelly that we already were and are.
The problem with patriarchy isn't so much that the daughters stay at home, marry young, obey their parents or wear skirts. The problem begins when the parents believe and teach their children that
there is no other way to be a Christian.
When they do this, it explodes into a Problem that the Gospel is not allowed to resolve. Their lifestyle, methods and day-to-day choices become practically more important than remembering that we are one in Christ, that we are free to live as we choose, and that our real obligation is to love.
When we forget that, the people around us know that we care more about our "convictions" than about loving them. Our friends will stop calling, tired of all the advice and lectures. They'll find a friend who will ask them "how are you doing?" and then actually listen to the answer. Our neighbors will know that unless they want a judgmental look, they will not call if they need help. And I've watched as the children of these parents "rebelled" and left, just to get enough room to breathe and pick out what they wanted to wear or how they wanted to arrange their house.
Patriarchy is only a problem when you cling to it as much as you cling to Christ. I remember the day I realized my convictions were more important to me than Jesus, and that I'd become a complete mess. I was attending college at the University of Oklahoma and was trying to graduate early, because I owed it to my parents, but I really wanted to quit and have 12 babies. I was right smack in the middle of what I call my "amish phase": long skirts, no make up.
It was early, and I'd just gotten out of my first class of the day. I was walking to my next class, staring at all the girls dressed in their tight, completely inappropriate jeans. I'd been judging these other girls silently for minutes before it even dawned on me to look down and see what I was wearing.
Jeans.
I'd woken up late that morning, and in my rush, put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I almost cried right then and there. It's always reminded me that I need Jesus, and so do they.
