What is the intellectual Catholic woman and where does she belong?
“Jesus then said to the Twelve, ‘Do you also want to leave?’
Simon Peter answered Him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’”
John 6: 67-68 (NASV)
Over the years, I’ve heard well-meaning men and women express the following sentiments:
“You’re such an intelligent woman!
What a shame you’re held back by an archaic, male dominated religion, which is nothing more than modern day mythology.”
“Wow. You’re Catholic? That surprises me.
The way you speak about certain issues made me think you actually care about women.
I guess not. That’s really disappointing.”
“You’re an intelligent woman! Do you REALLY want to undo everything women fought for????
How could you? You didn’t see what we went through in the 60s and 70s.
We fought for everything you have today–a career, financial independence, birth control, and freedom to decide your own life!
You’re too smart to be this naive!”
“What is truth?”
It seems that women are constantly inundated with ideas about who they are supposed to be,
and intellectual Catholic women have a particularly difficult struggle as they grapple with these questions:
What does it mean to be a woman?
A Catholic woman?
An intellectual Catholic woman?
It often appears that the modern world has much to offer a strong, intelligent woman:
autonomy that allows women to define themselves
technology that radically alters human capabilities
medical advancements that make the impossible possible
and a pace of production and progress that was unimaginable merely two generations ago
Yet, the intellectual Catholic woman knows that though she exists as a citizen of the modern world, the modern world is not enough to contain her. She wrestles honestly with the most defining questions of her time—whether Theological, cultural, scientific, political, or practical—and she senses in the deepest parts of her that the modern world cannot offer the wisdom she seeks.
She is an “intellectual” in its richest sense:
She approaches reality with thoughtful engagement and wonder, seeking the harmony of all truth.
She cultivates a habitual disposition—a posture of the soul—that is oriented to the search for all truth.
She allows the light of faith to illuminate her journey.
She is set apart by her thirst for wisdom, her devotion to uniting heart and mind in truth, and her desire to
bear witness to truth with courage and fidelity.
And while the world echoes the skepticism of Pilate, “What is truth?” she clings to the One from whom all truth flows.
For the intellectual Catholic woman, the words of St. Peter are not merely a confession of faith but the deepest cry of her heart:
“Lord to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.”
The intellectual Catholic woman is confident in the halls of academia, at the head of the boardroom table, in the courtroom, in the operating room, at the writer’s desk. She is capable, bold, and creative. All too often, she often finds that the modern world welcomes her only if she surrenders something essential–her femininity; her devotion to her husband, children, and home;
or her fidelity to Christ.
But she cannot make that bargain.
She longs to be whole.
The Crypt of the Martyrs in the Basilica of Our Lady Help of Christians in Turin, Italy
Photo by Heidi Bollich-Erne
She has chosen the better part
Thus, she dwells in her true home: the Church.
Only in the Church does she find an intellectual tradition vast enough for her questions and deep enough for her wonder.
The Church does not stifle her reason, but sanctifies it and calls it to seek wisdom beyond the physical world.
Here faith and reason are welcome to wander together.
Here the feminine genius is not a liability or a burden, but a gift.
As the intellectual Catholic woman wrestles with the most defining questions of her time, she never forgets the source of every answer. Every search for wisdom, every pursuit of knowledge, every act of contemplation will, if pursued faithfully,
bring her back to the feet of Christ.
And there she remains. For, Lord, to whom shall she go?
She, like Mary of Bethany, has chosen the better part.
At His feet…in her voice.