Divine Dependence
Although the tradwife trend is not a comprehensive portrayal of Christian values and beliefs surrounding femininity, it is often more compatible with Christianity than other secular attitudes towards women. While most people today tend to think of vulnerability as an evil to be avoided, Christians should have a deeper understanding. Not only does the single-minded quest for autonomy indicate a fundamental misunderstanding about life and the human condition, but becoming vulnerabile is an essential prerequisite to a right relationship with ourselves, with each other, and with God. Tradwives, at their best, are not ignorant of the risks they take when they decide to stay home with the children; instead, they are interested in a higher good than their security.
From the beginning of the Bible, we see vulnerability baked into our very design: Adam could not have breathed without God breathing life into him. Then, everything Adam needed was a gift of God—from the ground he walked on to the food he ate to the companion he so needed. Adam and Eve depended on God for all their resources—as we still do today. But then Adam and Eve sinned, taking their futures into their own hands. Rather than continue depending on God, they desired to become like God; rather than value faith, they valued security. In so doing, they isolated themselves from God and from each other, blinding themselves with sin.
Active Love
Consider the case of Ruth. Naomi repeatedly asks Ruth and Orpah to return to their mother’s house after Mahlon and Chilion die. Ruth reminds them that going with her would mean becoming sojourners in a foreign land—forsaking everything they have known and loved. There would be little hope for new husbands, since Naomi had no more sons and could not produce more. They would have no family to look out for them—making them orphans, widows, and strangers. Naomi’s thorough explanation makes it impossible that Ruth “didn’t know what she was getting into.” So why did Ruth make her famous declaration in 1:16–17?
A cynical explanation could be that Ruth hated her parents or was a social outcast. Wanting to escape, she fled to a foreign land to start over. However, this explanation seems unsupported in such an emotional scene as Ruth 1. A second cynical explanation is that Ruth saw that Naomi was depressed and downtrodden after the deaths of her family; Ruth knew she would be the only support Naomi had left, and so she nobly sacrificed her family, friends, and entire life to save the poor and lonely widow. On the surface, this explanation may seem unproblematic. But at its core, this would mean that Ruth thought of Naomi as a burden to bear—even if she didn’t expect something in return from Naomi, she would have still been using Naomi to gratify her ego. But the rest of Ruth’s story does not seem to bear this out—throughout the book, Ruth actively loves her mother-in-law, as displayed through her kindness, obedience, and humility.
To properly understand Ruth, the reader needs to understand this action in itself: Ruth is exposing herself to vulnerability not to get anything out of the situation—neither money, prestige, nor a secure future—but because she loves Naomi. She treats Naomi not as a means to an end, but as a person: an image of God. Her trust in God makes the risks almost irrelevant—her concern is only with righteous love, for it is only in such a context that love can be given (and received) as an utter gift. But if we isolate ourselves by insisting on receiving (or giving) love on our own terms, or if we blind ourselves to the situation we are in by thinking that we are in control, then we cut ourselves off from the true source of life and love. Vulnerability, then, is the key to connection. As such, it is not only not an evil to be avoided; it is, in fact, good.
Real Exposure
Consider our Lord himself: the uncontainable became contained within a cradle; the incomprehensible was comprehended in a babe. God embraced vulnerability for the sake of his Beloved, cutting through all the barriers we had put up through sin, selfishness, and pride. Good Friday is not called “Good” sarcastically or even because it accomplished a great good; it is called good because it is the ultimate demonstration of God’s love for us, the ultimate reconciliation. Only in this context could we receive the gift of love with nothing barring the way. The great scandal of the Incarnation is this: God exposed himself for the sake of his Beloved. Because of God’s vulnerability, sin no longer cuts us off from a relationship with him: if we can acknowledge our vulnerability, true connection is possible once again.
We are made in God’s image, and as such, we are called to reflect God into the world. But we are not called to do this only as individuals; we are called corporately, as God’s people. Just as our selflessness, humility, and grace should reflect God’s, so should our love. As we love God and our neighbor, we are called to deep openness with one another: not just sharing our deepest secrets, but entrusting our life, well-being, and personhood to an Other.
Marriage, then, is the most complete earthly reflection of our relationship with God—for in marriage, both partners must allow deep vulnerability to penetrate the relationship. The fact that betrayal is always an option is what makes treating your spouse as a person possible—just as God did not deny us free will. Our ability to choose otherwise makes our free choice to love this person, this God, meaningful. We are called, then, as images of God, to practice this vulnerability—even if it is foolishness in the eyes of the world. Ultimately, it is because we trust in our God that we can trust in each other. Rather than valuing security as our highest good, we value love. We have faith, despite the risks.
By Elizabeth Ji