Male and female

Mary Beth Bonacci

Adobestock.

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Theology of the body? Isn’t theology about God, who has no body? How can the body have a theology? And what does it have to do with my life?

I heard a lot of questions like this when I started speaking on the Theology of the Body. I still hear them. In fact, if I listen very closely, I can hear some of you asking them right now.

St. John Paul II said that Christian theology lacked an “adequate anthropology” — an adequate understanding of man. Not man as flesh and bones, but man as created by God. He said that just as the study of a work of art teaches us about the artist, so the study of God’s highest creation, human persons, teaches about God and our relationship with him, and with each other.

And that is when theology gets interesting to me — when it helps me understand myself, my life, and my relationships with God and the people around me.

The book of Genesis says, “In his image he created them. Male and female he created them.” What does this tell us? We’ve already discussed that every human person is created in his image, carrying that incredible dignity. And that the only appropriate response to a human person is love. But what we learn here is that there are two very different, distinct ways to be created in his image.

Why did he create us as male and female? I mean, obviously those variations in organ structure are crucial for continuation of the species. But is that all? Is it all just a convenient method of reproduction?

Let’s go back to Genesis. When Adam first beheld Eve, he said, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” Finally, God had sent him another person to give himself to in love. And he loved her, instantly, recognizing her dignity as God’s image, loved by him.

But one can assume that it didn’t take long for him to notice that Eve was different. The physical differences would have been apparent immediately, what with them both being naked and all. But there were also deeper differences. Like the first time they had a problem. Adam most likely dealt with it by retreating to his cave to close the door and think about his problem, emerging when he had found a solution. Meanwhile Eve, if she was anything like me, wanted to talk about her problem. And talk. And talk. And Adam, hearing her talk about her problem, assumed she was ready to solve it, so he “helpfully” offered suggestions. To which Eve most likely responded, “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to do anything. I just need to roll around in this problem for a while if you don’t mind.”

The fact is that male and female are two very different ways of being human, with biological differences that go far beyond a couple of organs. Every single chromosome of a man’s body is different from every single chromosome of a woman’s body. We have different skeletal, muscle and hormonal systems. And, most interesting to me, the structure of our brains is different. Which explains a lot.

Now bear with me here, because I am a theologian, not a medical professional. But what I have learned is that one key difference between the male and female brains is that the “corpus callosum,” the connection between the two halves of the brain, is much larger in women than it is in men. “Cool,” the women are saying. “It’s good to have a large corpus callosum, right?” It is neither good nor bad. It is just different. The way my layperson’s mind has always understood it is that our feelings are on one side of our brains, and what we’re doing is on the other side. Men, with that narrower connection, are able to keep their feelings more compartmentalized. Whereas we women, with that superhighways connecting the two halves, are constantly being interrupted by our emotions.

That is basically true, although the full reality is much more complicated.

St. John Paul II wrote about how women’s brain and hormonal structure gives us certain relational gifts. And science backs this up. Studies have been done where they show photos of faces to men and women. Women are much more likely to accurately identify a person’s emotional state based on their facial expression.

So, when would these gifts come in handy? When would it be helpful to identify emotional state based on facial expression? Well, how about when dealing with a pre-verbal baby? And when would it be nice be physically strong and to compartmentalize emotion? Perhaps when hunting wild boar to feed the mother and baby who are back in the cave?

These tendencies are primitive, meaning they go way back to the basics of human survival. Women’s bodies conceive and nurture new life. Which puts them in closer proximity to those babies, and also makes them more vulnerable while their attention is focused on the baby. Men’s strength and ability to compartmentalize places them in the natural role of protector.

St. John Paul II wrote extensively on the “feminine genius” — the specific gifts that women bring to the world by virtue of the way we are created. Frankly, I wish he had also written on the “masculine genius” because I like men a lot, and I am fascinated by the unique gifts that they bring to the table. Gifts such as calm, rationality, strength, protection and so many others. Masculinity is only toxic when distorted. Just as distorted femininity becomes toxic. Which we will discuss later when we look at the fall of Adam and Eve.

It is important here to warn against stereotypes. Yes, male and female are profoundly different and have different gifts. But each person is also utterly unique, and the gifts they bring will manifest in different ways. St. John Paul II was clear that the family needs both male and female gifts. But the world also needs both. The world of business, the world of politics — they all need both male and female gifts. When women enter into domains traditionally dominated by men, they bring a new perspective, a new balance, a new set of gifts. And vice versa.

According to St. John Paul II, it is all part of a much bigger picture. He said that in God’s creation, the physical points to deeper realities. Think about this: God is not one person, but three — Father, Son and Holy Spirit, existing in a “spiration of love.” In the Trinity, the love of the Father and the Son are constantly bringing forth the Spirit. Just as God is fundamentally a relationship of love, so we most accurately reflect his image when we love. The fact that he created two different ways of being human, and that those two ways “fit together” on every level — physically, emotionally — tells us that we are created not for isolation, but for unity.

We’ll talk more about that next time.

Bonacci is a syndicated columnist based in Denver.

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