As I Was Saying is a forum for a variety of perspectives to foster faith-related conversations among our readers with the goal of mutual learning, even in disagreement. Apart from articles written by editorial staff, these perspectives do not necessarily reflect the views of The Banner.
Like so many others, Iāve been irresistibly drawn to Rioās 2016 Olympics. An indiscriminate viewer, Iāve relished all the events, marveled at the prowess, dedication, and teamwork of the athletes, and shared their anguish and exhilaration. Full disclosure: I was particularly intrigued by the womenās competitions. For a Christian feminist like me, there was a lot to ponder.
Letās start with the complete lack of self-consciousness these female athletes display about their bodies. Whatever their age, height, weight, or skin color, these women rocked their physicality. Iām in awe of that, raised as I was in a Dutch immigrant CRC community in the 50s and 60s. Modesty in dress and appearance was prerequisite to any other goal a girl might consider. Conformity was prized above individualism; self-aggrandizement frowned upon. Participation in sports was discouraged for a host of reasonsācost, Sunday observance, āworldliness.ā I speak this truth about my childhood without rancor. I now understand more sympathetically (I didnāt always) that every constraint stemmed from a sincere communal drive toward a pious Christian lifestyle.
But how affirming now to watch strong women pit their bodies against limitations! Such a healthy antidote to the endemic self-loathing that afflicts countless girls and women. I loved watching Canadian gold medalist Erica Wiebe, a wrestling warrior, sweat dripping from her hair and face, raw aggression contorting her features. As a child, I could never have conceived of a woman acting that way.
Sadly, ambiguities about womenās bodies still arise even at the Olympics. Young female gymnasts, spangled and sequined, perform phenomenal tumbling routines spiced with mildly suggestive dance moves. The womenās synchro swimming teams are glamorous in their iridescent bathing suits and perfectly applied waterproof makeup. Before their routine even begins, the women spend 30 seconds posing at poolside. A female broadcaster remarked frankly, āI donāt like it.ā There is certainly nothing comparable at any male event.
I was miffed to observe in beach volleyball that women wore bikinis while men were in athletic gear. But then I learned that the women can choose what they want to wear. Plus female athletes everywhere at the Olympics sported lacquered nails, bold lipsticks, sparkly headbands, and hair dyed in trendy colors.
Perhaps my aversion to this emphasis on appearance is antiquated, a holdover from the revolutionary bra burning days of the early womenās lib movement. If some female athletes are drawn to pearls and curls, glitter and lace, so what? It doesnāt seem to affect their drive to succeed. Maybe it can even be applauded as a win for women, freedom to embrace their own style.
The 2016 Olympics are now history. Pulling my attention away from Rio, I contemplate the heroic women in my own life. Itās immediately clear that their size, shape, and appearance are wholly irrelevant. The women I admire and want to emulate are those of resolute character and valiant faith who represent not their country but their Lord. The social activist with unflagging determination, the conscientious elder who serves despite opposition, the widow mining unfathomably deep for the daily courage to carry on, the teacher exemplifying consistent professionalism throughout a long career, the hostess opening her home and her heart to the lonely and troubled.
And mothers. So many self-sacrificial mothers. Mothers who pray. Mothers who love even when the loving hurts, when the love is taken for granted, misjudged, or spurned. Cruciform mothers who pour themselves out like Jesus for the sake of their children, whose very lives testify āLove never fails.ā
Suddenly out of nowhere comes my old girlsā group verse, a motto recited from week to week: āCharm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.ā Yes. A thousand times, yes.
About the Author
Cathy Smith is a retired school teacher from Wyoming, Ont., and is a contributing editor at Christian Courier.