Joan of Arc: Beyond Gender Roles and Feminine Obligation

I'll be plainly honest, I was planning on doing a bit of research for this post before writing it, because Joan of Arc is my favorite saint, my role model in my daily life, and one of my heroes who continues to inspire me. If I was going to write about her life in whatever capacity I chose, I wanted it to be accurate, and to have my facts straight. But tonight, in proper feminist indignation and outrage, I have decided to chuck that research list out the window, and write about who she was as she stood in history, as a woman, and a faith-driven Catholic woman at that, bearing a shield and making her way in a world so patently and dangerously masculine it had gotten itself entangled in a 100 Years' War over two monarchs sparring over genealogical heritage. Now, I will not make the argument here that masculinity in its true, God-given form, is evil in and of itself, but I will hazard to say that its mutations and overemphasis have created utter confusion and panic in a world already wrought with fear. And where is femininity, you may ask? Pushed into a corner, beaten and shamed because it's not strong enough to handle the world.

Joan of Arc in her life, and absolutely unbelievable accomplishments, completely destroys the rigid ideals of masculinity and feminist in the wake of her untoward and daring courage. For centuries, the peasant girl from France, illiterate and worst of all, female, has captured the world's imagination, heart, intrigue, and wonder, despite all her "flaws" listed above. No other woman in the history of Western Civilization (the Blessed Mother being the only exception that comes to mind) has created such a following in both Christian and secular worlds. Everyone, Catholic or not, knows the story of Joan of Arc. Her grisly death in the face of corrupt Church officials and maniacal politicians attracts the history crowd. The Christian/Catholic crowd flock to her for her unmitigated and unabashed devotion to her Lord, to her country, to the visions and visitations of her Heavenly companions, and to her duty to be a soldier, and to dress as a soldier. (While it is widely thought she was burnt at the stake solely for her mystical visions, the grander charge was that of wearing men's clothing. She was commanded to remove it, even threatened with rape by the guards at her prison. She refused to revise her role as one of God's soldiers, and the validity of her visions, and was then condemned to suffer a witch's fate, being burnt at the stake for such levels of blasphemy as claiming to have visions and to don masculine wear). But I think one crowd is running a little slow in the race, and that is the feminists. Being a feminist and a Catholic, this is especially disconcerting for me. She is a prime example of adherence to true faith, utter courage in the face of certain death, and a brash defiance of the roles society told her she MUST stick to in order to be a good little girl and to be truly faithful and devout to God. 

And we come to the reason I am writing tonight. I know this sounds incredibly cheesy, but recently I have felt a pull in my heart and soul to pray fervently and seriously for my future husband. This led me to start reading a book describing the needs and wants of a man's heart as God has written it there.  So I start reading, wanting to see if it sheds any greater detail on what I already have gleaned about men and their masculinity from male relatives, dozens of male friends, and a handful of loves. I didn't make it very far into the first chapter when every other sentence I read caused me to internally (or at one point externally) shout, "Excuse me?!" 

Men long for adventure. Got that. That makes sense to me. Men long for the rugged wild, to be freed of societal constraints and structures that hinder them to a time table and to being "nice" guys. All the while, my feminist nerve is tensing, but I think to myself that I'm being unfair and overly-critical. The author isn't saying that women don't have these same longings, but rather is simply stating that, for the sake of the purposes of this book, men do. Alright, I can live with that. 

Until the author blames it on the fact that it is because society is making men into women, and that is where the blame rests. 

...Excuse me? Come again? 

You've got to be kidding me. 

Women are shamed into falling either into complete vanity and superficiality, long hair, big boobs, layers of makeup, and puposely revealing clothing, or they are shamed into completely neglecting themselves, their hygiene, their looks (and in both of these cases, their self-esteem) because neither side of the spectrum was ever taught that there is a happy medium to both, and not just for women, but for men as well. 

But, by all means, blame it on the weaker sex. Because all of a sudden, society favors us and is trying to mold men into such tainted, faulted images. 

I know, at its heart, that the author's intent was to show (in his own rather frustrating way) what anyone with two eyes can see: the patriarchy, in its emasculation of true masculinity and butchering of authentic femininity, is rotten and needs to be done away with. What I don't appreciate is the author using women as the scape goat. "They're forcing men to be like women." No. They're not. They're trying to rob men of true emotion, heart, courage, and zeal for adventure. I can jive with that. But now it's an insult and a degradation that men are having these issues in our society (which I will not deny) and that is because it's "womanly". "They're making our men into women!" How can you even make that assertion? In any pocket of society, the idea of womanhood is argued over ravenously, let alone the actual living, breathing practice of women in the world. But all of a sudden the feminine genius is defined so coldly, shoved into a veil-draped box and marked, "Dangerous: Do Not Open". 

And here is where Joan of Arc connects here so marvelously. What would such men or other definers (and more often than not, condemners) of this supposed idea of masculine-eroding "femininity" have to say in the face of such an example as that of our French soldier? She literally defies every single definition, and yet still stays true to her essence, a daughter of God called to fight, and fight she did. Modern historians attempt a shoddy interpretation of her life and actions by stating that she must have been a lesbian because of her short-cropped hair, masculine garb, and "rough" appearance and presence in the court and on the battlefield. Gee, where have I heard the argument that strong, fierce, determined, and moral women who care more for the life of God in the world and for the lives of His people than of her vanity table are either lesbian or asexual? (These arguments aren't new, guys. Maybe if they were they'd be a bit more interesting). There is absolutely no evidence of any kind that Joan was a lesbian. She wore her soldier's garb as obvious protection against dangers on the battlefield as well as in camp, where male advances were the closer danger at the end of the day. And even if she were, it is a mute point. Joan was a virgin, and proclaimed so in the kingdom after being examined to discover the truth of her words from God. (Another detail modern historians use against her, because obviously a woman alone amidst such a multitude of men who doesn't sleep with them must not have a heterosexual inclination). 

From both sides of the table, Joan stands apart as a woman of God, finding adventure in the wilds of France, and beyond any prediction, brought about the French resistance that ended one of the longest-lasting wars in Western history. And from a Christian point of view, she stands as a testament to true faith, and to a commitment to hold to that faith and love of God even in the face of death. Her last words were, "Hold the cross high so I can see it through the flames!" And, try as the executioner might, that stalwart girl's heart refused to burn. 

It would be a head-shaking, fist-tightening shame to view Joan as only an "exception" to the "rules" of either masculinity and feminity. But, more likely than not, that's exactly where she'd end up if by some miracle such a set of scholarly eyes dared to look at her life as more than a hallucinating teenage girl. She'd be condemned by today's men (and was condemned for this by men in her own time) for fighting a war meant for men alone. And she'd be condemned by women today for not obeying the rules for how women should act, should speak, should follow God. No pants for you, Joan. Good girls only wear skirts. 

Look, my only goal in this is to declare my indignation that apparently only men long for adventure, that only men long for the eternity found in nature and its treks, that only men have longings for a life beyond this hollow shell of civility. But for now, I will let Joan and her life do the talking.

"I am not afraid, for God is with me." --St. Joan of Arc

Man or woman, those are true words to live by. Maybe someday we'll at last have the sense to stop parcelling gender into oblivion, and let ourselves be human.