Grit Should Be Named a Virtue
My mother at 18 (1950), Patricia Ann
Two women, separated in life by over 2,000 years, shared a characteristic that emboldened them to speak truth in the midst of threatening circumstances. Looking back at the lives of my mother, Patricia, and St. Mary Magdalene, I recognize their grit. Living in two drastically different worlds, these women responded to injustice despite cultural and social expectations of silent submission. Raised by one, I encountered the other in the pages of scripture.
I was eight years old when I heard my mother yelling at the sky. Though my young brain could not process it all, my mother’s troubling cry still echoes in my ears like a desperate prayer spoken in the void. This brief and powerful moment led us both to discover something sacred.
My mother knew the meaning of taking up her cross as she faced the agonizing reality of her life. Wanting to be faithful, she remained true to her marriage and true to the Church despite a husband who did not know how to love her. In the 1950s and ensuing decades, she faced her married life with tenacity as she slowly realized she lacked the support she needed to find a safe haven for herself and her children. Suffering emotional and physical abuse at the hands of my father, she relied on God’s grace that heartened her to face it.
She was not a martyr or sacrificial lamb. She lived in a time without the social and pastoral support to encourage her to seek help and a safer, happier life. Today, many women are given a chance to escape abusive situations. That was not the case in my mother’s world. She had to choose whether or not she would stay to raise and care for her children. As a Christian, my mother believed in forgiveness and that Christ suffered, died and rose from the dead precisely to save us. She loved us with a love that emulated Christ.
I believe that in her suffering, my mother’s grit and openness to God’s grace enabled her to encounter the risen Christ in a direct way. In particular, as she stood crying out to God, knowing her worth and the hope of the resurrection, she was transformed. Fr. Richard Rohr OFM said, “God is always present in reality as it is, not merely as it should be.” Facing the truth of her life grounded my mother in the presence of the risen Christ.
That Sacred Moment
My family would venture to Buena Vista Lake when I was a child. Sometimes, my mom waded as the water lapped up along the gritty sand and I would swim around her feet. She seemed a million miles away. One particular moment at the water’s edge as I played nearby, I unexpectedly heard my mom’s abrupt and despairing cry: “Why?!” She repeated it, to the God of her heart, desperately seeking an answer. I looked around but no one else seemed to hear it as the water fountain roared in the background. Even though I was young, I felt a sense of awe and I gave her space. More curious than frightened, I looked up expecting to see what she saw. I was struck by her boldness then and now understand that she directed this gutsy question to God in whom she believed with every fiber of her being. Angry, she demanded to know why her cross was so hard to bear. I’ve never known such an honest and fervent prayer. I sense now, that God held her in that space.
My mother had more than her fair share of falling to the ground in her married life. In addition to the abuse, she faced oppressive cultural expectations as a woman in the mid-20th century. She was required to be docile, obedient and loyal all the while with a cheery disposition. With perseverance and God’s grace, she got up again and again in that world. While she did not receive the support she needed to leave an unsafe situation, she continued to pick up her cross and walk forward each and every day. My mother’s hope in the resurrection bore witness to the risen Christ, as she believed that all would be worth it in the end. She attempted to understand her own suffering and she boldly spoke her truth.
Twenty-five years of marriage to an abusive husband had left her bereft of hope for a better life, except for the ten children that she unconditionally loved. I think that my father’s mental illness was revealed and surprised her soon after they were married in the 1950s. Of course, back then there was nowhere for my mother to turn. According to her parents and parish priest, she had to face the life to which she had committed, as the covenant of marriage was strong and binding.
Looking back today as a wife and mother, about the same age as my mother, I can better understand her courage, emotions and deep struggles with her faith. From my perspective, she was calling God to task, demanding that God explain why her married life was so miserable when she had chosen to remain steadfast to the expectations of the sacrament. She was at the end of her rope, hanging there alone while her strength of heart and mind wavered. There did not seem to be enough grit or grace to save her when she had stayed true to her husband and true to the Church.
That day, I believe that my mom encountered the risen Christ. For, if “God is always present in reality as it is, not merely as it should be,” then my mother was never alone in these moments of desperation. Her grit enabled her to reach out, even with anger and frustration, while God’s grace flowed in return. I believe that a sacred moment like that transformed her, gracing her with the will and steadfast devotion she needed to continue on. And, so, she did. And my life was immensely blest because of it.
St. Mary Magdalene
An understanding of Mary Magdalene requires theological imagination, based on the Gospels, that helps us to enter into her life. It requires a look at the stark reality of the first-century Mediterranean cultural and social expectations of women. Females did not have any say or control over their day-to-day lives. In addition, Jesus’ early disciples left families and social support behind, a dishonorable and shameful prospect for men and much riskier for women.
Females existed to bring honor to their fathers, brothers and uncles, to keep the home and bear children. Speaking one’s mind was not tolerated nor was walking in public alone. Doing anything that would bring dishonor or shame to the males in her family could lead to dire consequences. Mary Magdalene faced inconceivable odds as a female, a follower of Jesus and the one to whom Jesus appeared first after his resurrection. This woman of God acted with grit and spoke with boldness despite the social and cultural situation. Try to envision and feel her devotion to a man she believed to be a prophet, who healed her from seven demons and who welcomed her into his close circle.
Mary Magdalene witnessed the crucifixion firsthand. Unlike most of Jesus’ disciples who fled and hid when Jesus was arrested, she remained with him during his greatest suffering. Mary Magdalene went alone in the darkness to find him. Upon discovering an empty tomb, she ran to the disciples to tell them. She risked the real possibility that she would be ignored, even scorned or shut out, for attempting to address the men on her own. Mary recognized her fear and was emboldened by God’s grace to speak.
As I consider St. Mary Magdalene’s experience, I see the grief she shouldered. Mary heard her name and saw the Lord. The risen Christ told her: Go and speak, Mary! Mary goes to the disciples a second time proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord” (John 20:18). Her grit and God’s grace enabled this “Apostle to the Apostles” to convince the disciples to step out of hiding despite their fears.
Mary Magdalene’s encounter with the risen Christ reminds me of that sacred moment at the reservoir where my mom stood crying out to God, searching for recognition and a response. God revealed to me mysteries, then, that continue to unfold for me forty-five years later. Of every person I have encountered in my life, my mom was the most honest and real. She carried her cross every day and she loved us with the grace of God.
Mom once said to me when I was older, “If it wasn’t for my faith, none of this would be worth it.”
I knew she referred to a loveless marriage. She continued, despite this, to attend Mass and pray the rosary. She devoted herself to her work as a nurse, providing for the family. She was a survivor until her last days in 2011. Grit should be named a virtue. The Cardinal Virtue of fortitude comes close.
Call to Action:
In the comments below, share your thoughts or a sacred moment from your own life.
Song for Contemplation: “A Woman” - a song inspired by Mary Magdalene.
