Per Caritatem

Related to my previous post on the philosophy of music, I want to say a few words about feminist perspectives of music, which like Adorno’s and Attali’s accounts are also attuned to the social and political dimensions of music. In particular, feminist musicologists such as Susan McClary and Ruth A. Solie seek to unearth the various ways that patriarchal narratives and practices have shaped our views of music. Keeping with certain shared feminist philosophical and political concerns, feminist theorists promote a diverse, multiple, inclusive view of music and are suspicious of theories limiting what counts as “genuine” music. Highlighting that such narrowly defined accounts have tended to portray Western, male-dominated, European (classical) music as the norm or ideal form of music, feminist theorists show how female composers and performers have been systematically excluded from making significant contributions to this musical “canon.” Rather than stress static, homogeneous, ideal musical forms, feminist musicologists emphasize diverse musical styles and dynamic musical practices—practices arising from particular historical periods and addressing specific socio-political concerns. As with other cultural practices, music too informs our views of “gender.” As a social force, music can help both to solidify and to subvert “gender” stereotypes.

Although unified with respect to their common goal of liberating women from all forms of patriarchal oppression, feminist music theorists employ diverse and, at times, conflicting philosophies and strategies. For example, some feminists appeal to an alleged “feminine essence” rooted in biological differences between the sexes. Consequently, those working in this vein of feminist thought argue for a distinctly female or matriarchal art, characterized by “natural” feminine traits—traits or characteristics often set in opposition to “natural” male traits. Perceiving dangers in the gender essentialism underlying the concept of matriarchal art, other feminist theorists articulate a social constructivist account of “gender,” applying constructivist theoretical principles to their analysis of music. That is, just as “gender” is constructed via socio-political practices, institutions, cultural narratives, and the like, so too our understanding of what “true” music is, who counts as a “master,” and what counts as an ideal musical work or performance is shaped by our views of “gender.” Thus, music, like “gender,” is performative and political, taking shape through embodied practices and emancipatory struggles.

“Changing unconscious habits of white privilege requires altering the political, social, physical, economic, psychological, aesthetic, and other environments that ‘feed’ them.  Correspondingly, a white person who wishes to try to change her raced and racist habits would do better to change the environments she inhabits than (to attempt) to use ‘will to power’ to change the way she thinks about and reacts to non-white people.  Whatever will power human beings have with regard to white privilege or any other habit is found in those habits themselves.  A person cannot merely intellectualize a change of habit by telling herself that she will no longer think or behave in particular ways.  The key to transformation is to find a way of disrupting a habit through environmental change and then hope that the changed environment will help produce an improved habit in its place” (Shannon Sullivan, Revealing Whiteness:  The Unconscious Habits of Racial Privilege, p. 9).

One of the main points that Sullivan stresses about racism is its systemic character.  In other words, racism is not simply some wrongheaded idea (though it is definitely a wrongheaded idea) in my head or your head.  Rather, racial privilege and disadvantage permeates our society in concrete ways-in the ways certain laws are crafted, in the ways that applications are designed and racial categories delineated, in the ways that different groups are portrayed in the media, racial profiling etc.  Institutions of course play an important role in shaping the way we think about race (as well as gender) and various ethnic groups.  As a graduate student and an adjunct at a local college, I have the opportunity both to observe how other professors discuss race and gender, and I have the opportunity to discuss these issues directly and indirectly with my students.  For example, as a female student, I find it extremely helpful and affirming when a professor uses secondary literature by female authors-particularly in my field, which has traditionally been dominated by (white) males.  (Don’t worry, I’m not a white-male-hater; I happen to be married to a wonderful white male).  As a teacher, I purpose to use inclusive language, reference the works of people of color, and in so far as the constraints of what I have to teach (in terms of texts) allow, I try to assign readings or projects that encourage dialogue with different ethnic groups and help expose students to new hermeneutical approaches. What I have found on the whole is that my students appreciate the inclusive language and having to wrestle with different ways of thinking.  In private conversations with female, African American, Latino/a, Asian American and others, students have time and again commented on how much they appreciate the ways I have tried to bring traditional subjects and authors in dialogue with contemporary hermeneutical approaches and  “non-standard” topics (feminist literature, African American studies, liberation theology, jazz discussions etc.)   There are of course always a few students who spend the whole semester sending me emails about why it is simply ridiculous to use inclusive language when anyone who is educated knows that “man” is a generic term.  Thus, by way of principle, the student boldly declares that he is not budging and refuses to use inclusive language in his papers.  Interestingly, I never demand that inclusive language be used.  I simply use it myself in the classroom.

As I am always trying to improve my teaching and ways of relating to my students, I would love to hear ideas from both students and those in the field of teaching regarding your experiences (either positive or negative) in the classroom along these lines.  In particular, what classroom ethos or actions encouraged or discouraged conversation about race in ways that might at least begin help to raise awareness of our racial habits?  Feel free to comment about gender as well.

Commentary on Moorman’s Essay
by Dan McClain

Mary Moorman begins her erudite essay with a three point outline of Augustine’s use of the nuptial metaphor in his ecclesiology (about which I admit to knowing little). I was fascinated to learn that Augustine links his nuptial imagery not only to the cross but also the creation of woman. Following this logic Augustine states that, like Eve from Adam, the Church proceeds from the side of Christ toward a marital commitment to Christ that includes contractual and liturgical elements indicative to a marriage.

Moorman’s transition to Balthasar recognizes that Balthasar, like Augustine, sees the nuptial model as a helpful launching point for exploring the Church’s relationship to Christ. However, he goes further than Augustine in introducing the language of obedience as essential to the marriage between Christ and Church. “Von Balthasar insists that it is the obedience of the Church which is constitutive of her nuptial identity and purpose.”

Like de Lubac, Balthasar sees the Church as the vessel through which the whole world will be redeemed.  “There is but one turning wherein earth becomes heaven, and this turning point is the Church.” The Church’s public faith and obedience to Christ is not only a witness of Christ, but is primarily that for which the world was created. “The bond of our love is the meaning of the world.” Moorman suggests that here in the public nature of marriage, especially in the bride’s naked assent to the groom, we see the most explicit link between Augustine and Balthasar.

Moorman concludes with a reflection on Mary, the mother of Christ. She says, “if we trace a nuptial reading of ecclesiology back to the earliest tradition, we find that the nuptial covenant between God and humanity is somehow already completed in Mary’s joyful obedience at the Annunciation, such that it remains for the rest of humanity simply to echo her binding act of consent…The only condition- that the Church accept her bridegroom’s proposal- has already been met by the Marian fiat, and the fruits of this union wait to be enjoyed by all who constitute the Church through their participation in Mary’s own obedience.”

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this piece, not only for the interaction with Balthasar and de Lubac, but also for the opportunity to read more about Augustine’s ecclesiology. However, as my expertise lies more in former, I beg Cynthia’s and Mary’s forgiveness in limiting my comments to reflections on issues surrounding Balthasar’s use of the nuptial model. I’d like to offer just three critical reflections in conclusion, all of which stem from prelimenary concerns about what to me seems to be Balthasar’s deficient idea of marriage and, more generically, his use of typology.

First, it is dubious whether marriage includes all of the aspects that Balthasar imports into his nuptial ecclesiology under the concept of marriage. Most disconcerting to me is that his model of marriage presupposes mortifying obedience on the part of the wife. The Church as the Bride is called to total obedience, EVEN to the point of death: “Be my handmaid. Renounce your will and nestle, like Ruth, at my feet. Become obedient even to death.” I am not sure how the marriage metaphor leads to this kind of mortifying obedience. Likewise, the nuptial relationship shared by Christ and the Church leads to the Church’s adherence to her husband’s totalizing agenda, and thus to the virtual disappearance of her identity, to be replaced by her husband’s: “Be for the world my embodied obedience, shown forth visibly and sensibly throughout all ages. Be so obedient that to say ‘Church’ will be to say ‘obedience’.”  Moreover, in losing her identify, the wife becomes the visible identity of the husband’s invisible kingdom: “My kingdom is invisible, but I want to establish you, my Bride, before the eyes of men so visibly that no one will be able to overlook you.” While I don’t dispute that the Church is to have this kind of obedience, I have serious misgivings about whether the marriage relationship is an appropriate or beneficial metaphor for getting at this obedience. Roman marriage, as Moorman rightly acknowledges, is the reference point for Balthasar and Augustine. But is this Christian marriage?

Secondly, in borrowing from marriage to talk about ecclesiology, Balthasar risks a reciprocal interpretation or re-presentation of Christian marriage. Moorman points to the influence on Balthasar of De Lubac’s incorporation of the Augustinian cosmology – union with God as the fulfillment of the cosmos’ identity. But de Lubac’s notion of fulfillment does not look like the one-sided image of marriage with which Balthasar is working, although he is therein attempting to expand de Lubac’s (and Augustine’s) idea of cosmological fulfillment precisely through employing the marriage model: “The bond of our love is the meaning of the world. In it all things reach fulfillment.” Yet, the insinuation of Balthasar’s nuptial cosmo-ecclesiology is that there is something inferior or unfilled about the concept of “bride,” and conversely something  superior about the concept of “husband.” Balthasar exposes Christian marriage to a reciprocal reinterpretation by employing the marriage model to explain the relationship of the Church to Christ, indeed the world’s fulfillment in and through the marriage relationship between Christ and the Church. Christian marriage, in light of nuptial ecclesiology, begins to look not like two people engaging in a life long commitment to one another of mutual love and submission, but rather of wives submitting to husbands in order to be fulfilled by their husbands (analogously?) as the Church submits to Christ and is thereby fulfilled. As the Church relinquishes her identity, wives too ought to lose their identity in order to manifest the their husbands’ identity, they ought to mortify themselves in obedience to their husbands. These conclusions are ramifications of what appear to be an unsystematic or unrestricted use of typology. How should one judge the direction and the extent to which the typology is to be employed?

Finally, bringing Marian doctrine to bear upon nuptial ecclesiology, Moorman says, “if we trace a nuptial reading of ecclesiology back to the earliest tradition, we find that the nuptial covenant between God and humanity is somehow already completed in Mary’s joyful obedience at the Annunciation, such that it remains for the rest of humanity simply to echo her binding act of consent.” De Lubac and Balthasar are both fond of calling Mary the mother of the Church (see especially de Lubac’s commentary of Lumen Gentium in The Church: Paradox and Mystery). Mary in many ways could be described as the first fruit of the Church, demonstrating proleptic faith in her complete yes to the Christ-child – although it is clear that Balthasar would like to go further by equating constituency in the Church as participation in Mary’s yes. Moreover, I have concerns with how much being part of the church is repeating Mary’s yes versus imitating Christ. Nonetheless, the metaphors of Bride and Mother become distorted when Mary is both the Mother of the Church and the archetype of the Bride. How can she be both Christ’s mother and Christ’s bride? I confess bewilderment as to what it means to embrace both metaphors simultaneously when each refers to something antithetical to the other. De Lubac doesn’t engage the two quite as systematically as Balthasar does. Neither offers a satisfactory solution. As long as the two function typologically the way that Balthasar employs them, it seems unlikely that there’s a middle ground to be had by balancing between the two as the two can neither be equivocal nor dialectically opposed. They are, rather, metaphors that seem to be best when left unmixed.

Corrine Crammer, in her article, “Balthasar’s Theology of the Sexes,” engages Balthasar’s views on gender and concludes that Balthasar’s theology of the sexes, though well-intended, is ultimately incoherent. If you have been following this blog for at least the last three months, you should know that I am a huge fan of Balthasar and am even considering writing my dissertation on Balthasar; however, I found Crammer’s essay quite provocative and at this time convincing on a number of points. I do not have time to present her analysis in its entirety, but I will briefly summarize her conclusions.

As Crammer points out, Balthasar wants a two-sex/two gender model (in the terminology of Laqueur) in which we have genuine difference yet equality;[1] however, despite his good intentions, according to Crammer, he ends up with a one-sex/two gender model in which Woman is defined by the Male and provides what the Male lacks-she serves as a kind of boundary for the man “and never truly exists as a subject and actor.”[2] According to Balthasar, the feminine is essentially characterized by receptivity and obedience; whereas the masculine is essentially characterized by action, initiative, and leadership-all highly problematic claims in my opinion, which do not correspond with my own experience as a woman or with what I have observed in other women.[3] For Balthasar, Man is question, and Woman is Answer (Antwort; hence, Woman is not an actor but a reactor, not an initiator but a responder. Balthasar bases his argument in part on the fact that the German word Antwort is feminine and not neuter, which violates the typical rule for German nouns made up of two words, viz., the new word reflects the gender of the of the second morpheme.[4] I find this aspect of his argument rather odd and arbitrary. For example, in Russian, the word for answer is ответ (otvyet), which consists of two morphemes mirroring the German in meaning and function, the latter of which is вет (vyet) meaning “say” or “speech,” and yet, the word is masculine. So why privilege the German? Balthasar also uses the metaphor of Woman as reflecting gaze (Antlitz) or mirror in which her gaze is fixed on Man; whereas, in contrast, Man’s gaze is able to look around and is not fixed solely on Woman. Both metaphors seem to make Balthasar’s Woman both overdetermined and underdetermined. Crammer then employs Marilyn Frye’s Venn diagrams to help further illustrate her point.

Rather than constructing a model of human sexual difference as a truly dualistic schema [here meaning a true dyad, wherein genuine difference exists] of A/B [and hence allowing for genuine difference], I believe that Balthasar constructs a fundamentally monistic A/not A model [...]. As Frye points out, to be an A (or B) is to be something or someone, whereas not A is not something anyone can be. Using the image of Venn circles, she describes A/not A as a single circle: everything inside that circle is A, everything outside the circle is not A-a category or space she describes as ‘the infinitation of the negative’. A/not A splits the world, but not into two, since not A is an infinite undifferentiated plenum, unstructured and formless, a chaos without internal boundaries. A/not A is therefore a dualism and cannot construct two things-there are no ‘somethings’ outside the circle drawn around A. Using this diagram, Woman provides the line that creates the circle defining Man. In this ‘positive-negative mirror-logic’, everything that man is, Woman is not; everything that Woman must be, man cannot have been.’[5]

In the end, Crammer sees Balthasar’s theology of the sexes, in spite of his affirmation of the equality of women and desire to present a two-sex/two gender model as incoherent and unintentionally “reproducing the one-sex model in which the normative human being is implicitly male and Woman’s definition is based around Man, particularly around what Man is seen to need Woman to be. The result of this methodology is that Woman in Balthasar’s theology lacks substance, subjectivity, and a voice of her own.”[6]

Notes

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[1] Crammer cites Theo-Drama III, p. 286, where Balthasar affirms that woman is essentially equal to man, yet personally unlike him.[2] As found in The Cambridge Companion to Hans Urs von Balthasar. Crammer cites Theo-Drama III, pp. 284-285 regarding Balthasar’s suggestion that man is lacking and in need of woman. Yet, Balthasar also affirms in Theo-Drama II, p. 388, that “every person is a perfect member of the human species, whether male or female, embodying the whole concept of what it is to be human.”

[3] E.g., Balthasar writes, “[i]t is the natural role of a man to command, but in profound dependence on the planning, careful woman. He symbolizes freedom, but now, how would round he is by clinging ivy, which often threatens to choke him-by wife and children, home and profession, a knot of cares” (Theological Anthropology, p. 309).

 [4] Balthasar also, of course, turns to Scripture for his argument, particularly Gen 2:23 and I Cor 11:7. Here I would to want ask how Gen 1:26-28 and Gal 3:28 are to be understood within Balthasar’s theology of the sexes? For example, in Gen 1:26-28, God gives dominion over the earth to both the man and the woman.

[5] “Balthasar’s Theology of the Sexes,” pp. 101-103.

[6] Ibid., p. 102.

As the result of an extremely helpful (and on-going) dialogue with a friend and colleague concerning my post, “The Superiority of a Christocentric View of Women Over Aristotle’s Claims,” I have made a number of changes, corrections, and additions to my original post and plan to post the revised version in the near future.  In this post, however, I wanted to briefly attempt to substantiate some of my earlier claims regarding what seems to me as Aristotle’s deficient view of women, i.e., insofar as this topic arises in the Nicomachean Ethics,[1] which is the most recent work of Aristotle that I have read.  Additionally, the Ethics deals specifically with the topic of friendship which is the focus of the upcoming conference at Baylor.  

In the Ethics, Aristotle describes what we might call a virtuous or character friendship between unequals.  For example, Aristotle says,

But there is a different form of friendship that goes along with superiority, as of a father for a son, or generally of an older person for a younger, as well as of a husband for a wife or of any ruler for the one who is ruled.  And these also differ one from another, since the friendship of parents for children is not the same as that of rulers for those who are ruled, nor that of a father for a son as that of a son for a father, nor that of a husband for a wife as that of a wife for a husband.  For a different virtue and a different work belongs to each of these, and the things on account of which they love are also different too.  And so, the same things do not come to each person from the other, nor should they look for the same things; [...] And in all the friendships that go along with superiority, the affection also ought to become proportional, that is, the better one, or the one conferring a greater benefit, ought to be loved more than he loves, and similarly in each of the other cases.  For whenever the affection comes to be in accord with what is deserved, there comes to be a certain kind of equality, which seems to belong to friendship” (1158b13-28, p. 152; emphasis added). 

In all of the pairs that Aristotle lists, a common thread seems to be that one partner is morally (and perhaps even assumed to be intellectually) superior to the other. Moreover, the superior or assumed superior of the pairings appears to have some kind of authority over the lesser or assumed lesser partner.  From a Christian perspective, I readily see how one could interpret this authority over another in a Christocentric way such that one person’s authority over the other does not necessitate that s/he be morally or intellectually superior, but it is unclear to me how that would be possible on Aristotle’s view (which is not to say that such an interpretation doesn’t exist).  For example, appealling to a relatively clear case, in Aristotle’s day would a slave (one who is ruled) generally be treated by the ruler as an equal either morally or intellectually?  In this ruler/ruled relationship, which Aristotle later compares to a tyranny, the slave is considered an “ensouled tool.”  Yet, the slave who obeys the law and hence exercises justice still qualifies as a human being and thus there is according to Aristotle some slim semblance of friendship possible toward him (1161a31-1161b11, pp. 157-158).  In my opinion, to call such a relationship a “friendship” is a bit of stretch. 

Other passages that seem to substantiate my view are the following.  At 1160b, Aristotle begins discussing the different kinds of governments/constitutions and their deviations/corruptions.  Then he compares these to relations found in households. At 1160b32-39, he says the following: 

The relationship of the husband to a wife seems aristocratic, since the man rules as a result of worthiness, and over those things which a man ought to rule;[2] as many things as are suited to a woman, he turns over to her.  If the husband is in charge of everything, he changes the relationship into an oligarchy, since he does it contrary to worthiness, and not insofar as he is better suited.  Sometimes wives rule, when they are heiresses, but their rule does not come from virtue, but from wealth and power, just as in oligarchies” (pp. 156-157).

As Aristotle makes clear earlier, the movement from aristocracy to an oligarchy is not a move forward.  “The change from aristocracy is into oligarchy by vice in the rulers, who distribute the things that belong to the city contrary to what is deserved, and all or most of its goods to themselves, and the ruling offices always to the same people, making being rich count for most; so few people rule, and bad ones instead of the most decent” (1160a10-16, p. 156).     Moreover, Aristotle seems to be saying that the reason that the husband should rule his wife is that he is more worthy, which I take to be an affirmation of the husband’s moral superiority.  If perchance a situation occurs in which a wife happens to be ruling, this is compared to the degraded state of an oligarchy because the woman’s rule is not due to her worthiness or virtue but because of her family line and monetary status.  Again, this seems to suggest that a female in comparison to a male is found lacking simply because she is a female and thus there are certain activities for which she is not suited. 

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome. 

Notes

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[1] All passages cited from the Nicomachean Ethics refer to translation by Joe Sachs (Newportbury:  Focus Publishing, 2002). [2] One would have to ask what this means in Aristotle’s day.

I recently came across the following resources that relate either directly or somewhat tangentially to my paper for the Baylor conference on friendship and wanted to share them with those interested.  Some of the essays are written for a more general, non-specialized audience, whereas others are written for more specialized academic audiences.   

1.  Phillip Carey, “The New Evangelical Subordinationism:  Reading Inequality into the Trinity.”  Carey, a professor of philosophy at Eastern University, highly recommends two books by Kevin Giles:  Jesus and the Father: Modern Evangelicals Reinvent the Doctrine of the Trinity; The Trinity & Subordinationism: The Doctrine of God and the Contemporary Gender Debate.  The following description of the second book is taken from Amazon.com: 

“Subordination has been and still is a controversial subject within the church.  The concept has been vigorously debated in relation to the doctrine of the Trinity since the fourth century. Certain New Testament texts have made it part of discussions of right relations between men and women. In recent years these two matters have been dramatically brought together. Indeed, today the doctrine of the Trinity is being used to support opposing views of the right relationship between men and women in the church.  At the center of the debate is the question of whether or not the orthodox view of the trinitarian relations teach the eternal subordination of the Son of God. In this book Kevin Giles masterfully traces the historic understanding of the doctrine of the Trinity from the patristic age to our own times to help resolve this important question. But he does not stop there.  Giles goes on to provide an illuminating investigation of a closely related question–whether or not women, even in terms of function or role, were created to be permanently subordinated to men. By surveying the church’s traditional interpretation of texts relating to the status of women and inquiring into the proper use of the doctrine of the Trinity, Giles lays out his position in this current debate.”

I have added Giles’ books to my Amazon.com wishlist. 

2.  John Wijngaards, “Aquinas on Women,” (from the National Catholic Reporter January 14, 2000).

3.  Thomas Aquinas and Women’s Lower Status

4.  Michael Nolan, “What Aquinas Never Said About Women,” in First Things.  Nolan is Professor Emeritus in the Maurice Kennedy Research Center at University College Dublin.  In the above essay and in numerous others, Nolan argues that Aquinas rejects Aristotle’s view of the female as mas occasionatus (a defective or unintended male). 

5.  Michael Nolan, “Do Women Have Souls.”  This PDF document contains three essays by Nolan which were published previously in The New Blackfriars.  (Nolan’s arguments vindicating Aquinas are quite scholarly, well researched and in many areas convincing; however, I am still left with a number of troubling questions.  Nonetheless, his essays are definitely worth reading). 

6.  Marie I. George, “What Aquinas Really Said About Women,” in First Things: (George suggests that we accept the intellectual inferiority of women as part of the overall picture of divine wisdom).