Men and Women in Star Wars: Their Complementary Struggles, Mission, and Genius in "The Force Awakens"

ALERT: Major spoilers ahead!

I’m not ashamed to admit that I was super excited to go see The Force Awakens. Finally, the Tuesday before Christmas my whole family got our schedules coordinated enough to head off to the theaters after dinner.

But I’m not going to lie, as excited as I was to see the most recent installment of the franchise, I was also a bit nervous when it became clear from the previews that one of the central figures would be a woman. Why did this make me nervous? Well, let’s just say that I’ve disagreed with some of the more radical feminist undercurrents that seem to have become a staple in Disney’s movies over the past several years; so much so that I even wrote a blog post about it a year ago (which you can check out here). However, someone at Disney clearly read my blog post (haha, at least I’d like to think so!) because I’m pleased to report that I was pleasantly surprised by the plot and character development exhibited in the most recent episode of the Star Wars saga.

Was it absolutely perfect? No. But ultimately I think the plot and the characters of The Force Awakens dramatize the struggles facing both men and women in the current culture. Most importantly, the plot highlights how the struggles men face are different from the ones that women face, and how the weaving together of these struggles creates a galaxy with a cultural crisis much like our own (even if that galaxy is one that is far far away). But the thing I found most refreshing about The Force Awakens was that it doesn’t just dramatize the masculine and feminine crises of our culture; it also has given us two new characters (Rey and Finn) that, in my opinion, are struggling against these crises and I think have a reasonable chance of succeeding (that is, if the writers don’t decide to mess this up). It is Rey and Finn’s story, captured and dramatized in this new movie, that I believe is worth watching in order to gain a deeper insight into our own human experience.

The Masculine Crisis

There are several major male characters in The Force Awakens, but I couldn’t help but notice that there was a common thread uniting them, diverse as they were. It occurred to me that Luke, Han, Kylo Ren, and Finn were similar in that they all were running away from something. The astonishing thing to me was that they all seemed to be running away for the same reason: fear, and this fear was a fear of failure. Luke and Han run away after Ben Solo turns to the Dark Side, a perceived failure on their part as his teacher and father; Kylo Ren (Ben Solo) runs away from the Light Side out of the fear that he will fail to be powerful without the power of the Dark Side; and Finn is tempted to run away from Han, Rey and the Resistance on Takodana because he fears that the Resistance is sure to fail.

Expulsion of Adam and Eve by Aureliano Milani

I think it is no coincidence that these major male characters are similar in their running away and their fear of failure. In fact, I believe this is one of the central struggles that all men face as a result of original sin. If one turns to the account of the Fall in Genesis, Adam’s silence is deafening. He must have been close by in the garden if Eve gave him the fruit, but he fails to intervene and protect her from the wiles of the serpent. Dr. Larry Crabb expounds on this idea in his book The Silence of Adam in which he examines the question of why men fail to act. His answer lies in the claim that most men draw their sense of worth and identity from their competence. Thus, when life presents situations that test this competence or reveal men’s inability to “handle the situation” they feel like failures.

Katrina Zeno in her book Discovering the Feminine Genius points out that Genesis reveals what happens when men feel this sense of failure: they either (A) “become paralyzed by fear and retreat into passivity” or (B) “try to dominate the situation.” In Genesis, Adam does both of these things, first by running away and trying to hide from God and then by his domination of Eve (“he shall rule over you”).

This biblical truth is clearly dramatized on the big screen in The Force Awakens. Luke, Han, and Finn retreat into passivity while Kylo Ren goes further and doesn’t just seek to retreat but also tries to dominate others, specifically the woman Rey. All of these men are afraid that their competency has failed and out of fear their first instinct is retreat. If this fear continues to grow it leads to the desire to dominate others, just like Kylo Ren is doing.

But it is important to note that this clear lack of masculinity doesn’t always appear as such on the outside. We live in an age where the Evil One whispers in the ears of men that the truly “masculine” thing to do is to avoid situations where failure is an option. This is essentially the “I don’t play games I can’t win” attitude. While it might come off as an aloof and stoic macho toughness because it avoids all chance of vulnerability or failure, in reality it is the exact opposite and is marked by cowardice. This is where we find the characters of Luke, Han, and Finn towards the beginning of the movie.

On the flip side of this cowardice is the lie the Evil One feeds men that “real men” are marked by the sheer power that they have over others, specifically women. This is essentially the idea that the more money you have, men you have beaten up, and women you have slept with, the more you are a man. While this may appear to be the pinnacle and maturation of masculinity it is actually its exact opposite, and is the embodiment of immaturity. “Men” who seek to dominate others in this way may seem big and scary, but if you remove the mask (a-la Kylo Ren) what you will find is the immature face of a little boy. I must say that the casting of Adam Driver as Kylo Ren, while criticized by some, brilliantly emphasizes this point. It is the fear that his power is insufficient that eventually leads him to the Dark Side, just like it did with his grandfather Anakin Skywalker.

Hmmm…I think a wise little green creature may have been onto something when he warned that fear leads to the Dark Side.

The Feminine Crisis

But fear is not something reserved only for the men in The Force Awakens. We also see Rey struggle with fears of her own, but these fears are different from the ones haunting her male counterparts. Unlike the men who fear a failure in their competency, Rey fears her own identity which likewise tempts her to run away. As Finn is being tempted to run away from the Resistance on Takodana, Rey is simultaneously running into the forest after having a flashback forcing her to face her identity and the fact that the Force is calling to her. She knows in her heart that she is someone important and special, but is not willing to accept this yet because of another fear holding her back: the fear that she is not enough and that she is unlovable and forgotten.

As of yet we know very little about Rey’s backstory but what we do know is not very cheery. She was left alone on Jakku as a young girl and believes that she must wait for someone to return to claim her. But Rey is having to face the reality that no one will likely ever return. With these circumstances it is easy to see how she might feel forgotten and unlovable, so it would make sense that she would not feel worthy of human affection or any sort or a supernatural call (one could even use the language of “vocation” here).

Like I said, at the heart of this fear of being unlovable and forgotten is the fear that she is not enough. Turning back to Genesis we see the same fear take hold of Eve's mind. Eve begins to doubt that her identity as a daughter of God (who she is) is not enough; so she takes the fruit hoping that it will make her more like God and less like the person she is currently. Eve's desire for autonomy which leads her to grasp at the fruit is an inclination we see paralleled in the character Rey.

Rey must have parents, specifically a father, but he has failed to act in her life by abandoning her. In the absence of someone to look after Rey and defend her (namely her parents) she has been forced to take on a hardened independence and a degree of autonomy. It is this autonomy, like Eve's desire for autonomy, that marks the separation of woman from man and from God. In the words of Katrina Zeno, “when men fail to act, women develop an independency that excludes a real communion of persons. The result is isolation.” This could not be more accurate in describing Rey’s life. She has experienced isolation for so long that encountering another person (like Finn) or her identity and past (linked to her parents) is going to be a difficult experience for her: one that she might initially brush off but can’t outrun (you can’t flee your identity after all).

A Story for Our Day

In The Force Awakens we have a universe of men that have retreated into passivity or dominance and women who have hardened their hearts in an effort to avoid confronting their fear of being unlovable and forgotten. Hmmm…sound familiar? I don’t know about you, but I think this is the exact cultural phenomenon that men and women from our galaxy face on a daily basis. I can’t speak for the men out there, but I know that Rey’s fears of being unlovable and forgotten, tied up in an inability to recognize the dignity and worth of her identity and resulting in the temptation to grasp at “independence” and autonomy is something I struggle with almost daily. And interacting with women through Women’s Ministry I can testify that I’m not the only woman out there with this struggle. 

So the internal conflicts in The Force Awakens are human ones that we can relate to, but the thing that excites me is that the plot and character development thus far in the new installments give the audience characters struggling with, but also struggling against, the persistent cultural crisis they find themselves in.

Fr. Francis Martin, a theologian, says that a saint is someone in whom God works out the problem of the age. The problems in our own age are the same as in The Force Awakens. In the characters Finn and Rey, we witness two people, a man and a woman, working through the struggles, fears, and insecurities of the men and women of their world and our own. They may not be perfect at it (in fact, they both have a long way to go) but in the words of St. Josemaria Escriva “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying.” Finn and Rey are our heroes not because they emerged from the battle unscathed but because they continue to fight despite the injuries they have already sustained.

Finn: Demonstrating the Masculine Mission

By far my favorite character to come out of the most recent film is Finn. He is a character of heroic virtue, despite the fact that he’s far from perfect. In fact, that’s why I like him: we get to see his character grow and mature so much, even within the span of this one film. Is he there yet? No, but I see great things in the future for Finn and the role he will play in this story.

Jason Evert in his book Theology of His Body/Theology of Her Body says that the mission of every man is to protect, serve, and sacrifice. The model for this masculine mission is obviously Jesus Christ whose passion and death counteracted Adam’s failure to protect, serve, and sacrifice for Eve. Jason Evert says that this masculine mission is specifically lived out when men “use [their] strength to cherish women and protect life.”

At the beginning of the movie we see Finn as a Stormtrooper attacking a village. But when ordered to slaughter the innocent townspeople (including women and children) he is the only Stormtrooper who does not pull the trigger on his blaster. Is he protecting, serving, and sacrificing in this scene? No, but this is his first step in the right direction. Shortly after, Finn releases Poe Dameron from captivity but by his own admission he does this because he needs a pilot, not because it’s the right thing to do.

The first time we see Finn actually put his own interests aside to protect another doesn’t come until a few movie minutes later. What prompts him to step outside of himself for the first time? The answer is a distressed cry from a woman (Rey). She is being attacked and he runs to help her. Is he very effective at this? Well, maybe not. She’s an “independent woman” after all and is pretty capable of fending off the attack on her own (at least initially). Several times Finn takes her hand in this “escape-from-danger” scene and this is something that Rey does not take too well to, to say the least.

But my opinion is, can we really blame her? Based on the circumstances of Rey’s life it would be highly unlikely that she would willingly accept help from a male stranger as this would be an admission of weakness and the potential for danger. But Finn continues to offer his help and when he comes-to after getting knocked over his first question is whether or not Rey is OK. I’m aware that some are a bit more critical of this scene and the role of the male characters in general, but I give Finn a solid “A” for effort in his first attempt at chivalry, even if the execution is a bit flawed, which admittedly is largely because of Rey’s own reaction to the situation. For now, simply note that the conflict between Finn and Rey in this scene is the direct result of the masculine and feminine crises of their culture (a culture of masculine passivity and a hardened “independent” femininity).

Finn is able to finally embrace the masculine mission to protect, serve, and sacrifice only on Takodana when he understands that Rey is in great danger. Maz Kanata tells Finn that Rey and BB-8 need him and the audience sees the understanding dawn on Finn’s face as he takes up the only weapon available to him, even if it’s an unfamiliar lightsaber, to try to defend her. He is unable to get to Rey in time and sees her being carried off by Kylo Ren into his ship. Remember, before this scene Finn was about to run away from the entire Resistance movement. But he changes his mind after witnessing Rey’s capture and insists on helping with the attempt to rescue her despite the danger to himself. For a character that was initially caught up in the interests of the First Order and then in his own self-interest, Finn demonstrates a tremendous amount of virtue in his selflessness regarding Rey. Such selflessness is even more laudable when one considers that even Han Solo was not so quick to embrace this masculine mission (recall that in A New Hope, Han only rescues Leia when he finds out that there would be a large monetary reward for doing so).

Finn selflessly puts his own fear and interests aside to protect, serve, and sacrifice for Rey. Critique him all you want but that is the embodiment of the masculine mission right there. Bravo, Finn.

Rey: Revealing the Feminine Genius

But don’t think I’ve forgotten about our heroine Rey. Where would our story be without her? After all, the entire plot is able to happen because of one characteristically feminine choice that she makes: rescuing BB-8. She hears the cry of BB-8, rescues him, takes care of him, and refuses to let him be sold and become an object of use. I recognize that BB-8 is a droid and is not a human person, but in the Star Wars universe droids like BB-8 and R2-D2 are personified and treated like people, so I’m going to consider them as such.

Now, I have always considered droids like BB-8 and R2-D2 to have certain “childlike” qualities in their innocence, humor, devotion and all-around “cuteness.” So Rey’s choice to rescue BB-8 and care for him is a distinctly feminine and maternal characteristic in my mind. Furthermore, when Rey later hears the cry of a distressed child at the cantina on Takodana she seeks out the source of the cries, drawn to them like any mother is drawn to the sound of a crying child.

While Rey may not be a mother herself and has no experience of her own mother that she can recall, what these two instances reveal is that she still possesses a maternal instinct despite her otherwise hardened and “independent” persona. This is because the tendency to care for and nurture a helpless creature is natural for women. Motherhood, even of a spiritual kind, is part of who every woman is. To be a woman is to, in some sense, be a mother. At the heart of this maternal nature is a woman’s natural and intuitive orientation towards persons. This is the “feminine genius” that St. John Paul II speaks about that every woman possesses by the very nature of her being a woman. A woman truly living out this feminine genius has the ability to “see” the reality of who a person is beneath the external qualities of their success, actions, or possessions.

To demonstrate further this unique ability of woman to “see the person” we are presented with the character of Maz Kanata. She is physically characterized with large lenses over her eyes, demonstrating her wisdom and innate ability to read the inner motivations and thoughts of other characters. While she is no Jedi herself, we know that she shares a powerful connection with the Force which is the source of this ability within her. Likewise, Rey will later be able to read the inner thoughts and fears of Kylo Ren when she is beginning to tap into the Force for herself.

But the ability of woman to see into and be more oriented towards the “other” has another consequence. The pain of others becomes a pain that the woman experiences herself, and this pain is often manifested in the form of tears. Hardened as Rey is, we still see her cry at multiple points in the movie, an act that is not often seen from other movie heroines. But contrary to what one might think, shedding tears does not diminish a woman’s strength. Paradoxical as it may sound, Gertrude von le Fort in her novel The Song at the Scaffold claims that “to tremble is to be strong.”

Pietà (detail) by Niccolò Frangipane (1593)

It is true that a woman shedding tears can be shedding tears of silliness and vanity, but to acknowledge this fact is not the same as believing that the tears of every woman are therefore silly and vain. As Alice von Hildebrand says in her book The Privilege of Being a Woman, “Tears can be expressions of what is best and noblest in man.” A woman who cries in the face of immense tragedy, injustice, or cruelty is not a weak woman. Furthermore, she is not a weak woman precisely because she is crying, for she has seen the suffering before her and has chosen to make it her own. In doing this, she gives the proper response to the tragedy at hand. As von Hildebrand wisely points out, “We live in a world in which tears are called for daily.”

When Finn is lying on the ground injured and unconscious, Rey weeps over his body. In doing so she is responding properly to the situation at hand (“Blessed are those that mourn”). But even more importantly, this is a moment in which Rey is imitating the actions of another sorrowful woman: The Blessed Virgin Mary. There is a reason why Mary is called the Mater Dolorosa, or Sorrowful Mother. Like Rey crying over the body of Finn, Mary likewise cried over the body of her Son as he was taken down from the cross. 

In her spiritual motherhood and feminine sensitivity to persons manifesting itself in tears, Rey reveals the feminine genius that we see embodied most perfectly in Mary. But the parallels between Rey and Our Lady do not end there.

Salvation Will Be Born of a Woman

Based on the plot of The Force Awakens one could reasonably make the prediction that Rey is going to become the central character in the next several films (the parallels between her and Luke were not coincidental, I’m sure). Now, the choice to create a female protagonist in a film series whose target audience includes both men and women is a bit of a gutsy move, and one could argue it is a move motivated by a feminist ideology bent on tearing down men in an effort to extol women.  And normally, I might agree with that position. But I think, if the plot of the future movies is handled correctly, there can be some serious truth about the heroic role that women play that can come out of it, and not just the rhetoric of a confused ideology.

I’d like to begin my defense of Rey’s central role in the plot with a quote from Gertrude von le Fort’s book The Eternal Woman (and if you’ve never read this book, you should seriously check it out). Von le Fort says that woman, specifically the virginal woman, “always comes to the rescue when there is a need.” This is precisely what Rey does in rescuing BB-8 and it is this action that draws her into the larger plot of the movie, a plot that will require her to come to the rescue again and again.

Now, some might argue that von le Fort’s claim that women will “come to the rescue” when there is a need may sound like a position that eliminates any role for men. But consider what else von le Fort says on the matter before you discredit her entirely: “The highest vocation of woman is always by way of a last expedient, and we grasp the astonishing significance of a St. Catherine [of Siena] or a St. Joan [of Arc] only when we know who had already failed on the missions that later became theirs.” There is precedent within the realm of Catholic orthodoxy for von le Fort’s claim that woman will always come to the rescue when there is a need, but notice this is only as a last resort because those (men) that came before them had already failed on these missions.

As von le Fort says, “The need of woman coming to the rescue indicates that…there is some lack of man power.” I think it has already been sufficiently demonstrated that this galaxy far far away is one with a serious lack of the necessary “man-power.” Perhaps this lack is most significant in the characters Luke and Kylo Ren who both possess the powers of a Jedi. Both of these men have succumbed to fear and failed in their masculine mission, one by fleeing and one by seeking to dominate. With the betrayal of Kylo Ren to the Dark Side and the flight of Luke to isolation, there are no Jedi left to maintain balance in the Force. According to von le Fort this is precisely when woman is called to the rescue because historically “when the male line fails, the daughter becomes the heir.” 

No surprise here, but in our story that “daughter” is Rey.

But what exactly does it mean for woman to come to the rescue and become the heir? Von le Fort answers that, “For woman coming to the rescue means, in the strictest sense, that her action is not activity in itself, but surrender, which is but another form of the womanly ‘Be it done unto me.’”

Stop. Read that last sentence again and let it sink in, because this is the key to von le Fort’s entire argument.

The Annunciation (detail) by Fra Angelico (1433-34)

Von le Fort’s reference here to the Annunciation is no accident. After all, the world was in serious need of rescue after the Fall and mankind was doing a pretty poor job of trying to change that. So what did God do when the line of mankind failed? The heir became a daughter of Israel. Yep, you guessed it: Mary. Mary’s virginal surrender to God in her fiat is the very act of heroism that makes the defeat of “The Dark Side” possible because “the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (Jn 1:5).

And who is it that Mary surrenders to? God. He is all things spiritual, immaterial, and life-giving. In the Star Wars universe one can describe the Force that way. Like Mary, Rey must learn to surrender herself to the Force, to “let it in” as was said in the movie trailer. This surrender means embracing her identity as having its roots in the Force, just as Mary’s identity was rooted in her identity as a daughter of God the Father.

When Mary surrendered to God, all of creation was saved. Salvation entered the world through a woman’s act of surrender to God. This is the heroic moment of woman and it is such an integral part of the world’s salvation that Mary is given the title of Co-Redemptrix. Mary, a woman, participates in the salvific act of the man Jesus.

We have been given a plot in The Force Awakens where the universe needs saving and that salvation appears to be coming through the woman Rey, just as salvation came to this world through the Virgin Mary (“When the fullness of time arrived, God sent His Son, formed from a woman…so that He might redeem those who were under the law” Gal. 4:4-5). But the role Mary plays in the salvation of the world is significant precisely because it is different from the role that Christ plays. What this tells us is that the heroism of Mary, as the perfect model of womanhood, is different from the heroism of Jesus who is the perfect model of manhood. If the salvific role of Rey is to continue to be a truly feminine image, it must model Mary’s salvific role; but this salvific role is not one of “Redeemer” but is one of “Co-Redemptrix.”

A Hidden Heroine

Now in order to justify this seemingly “lesser” role of woman as “Co-Redemptrix” rather than “Redeemer,” I’m going to need to backtrack a little…but stay with me. This is a position that is crucial to understand and yet is so often misunderstood that I’m not going to cut any corners in trying to explain it.

Rey clearly possesses a supernatural call from the Force which, despite her hardened external persona, she still demonstrates a natural intuition for. It is this natural intuition for the spiritual that is a distinctly feminine quality which (thank goodness!) the screenwriters decided to include in her character. Untrained as she is, Rey has a very strong natural connection with the Force. Case in point, she demonstrates a greater command of the Force than Kylo Ren in her confrontation with him despite the fact that he has much more experience than her. Likewise, Maz Kanata also exhibits a strong natural intuition for the Force. It is no secret in our own galaxy that women are naturally more in-tune with the spiritual life even without much formal instruction. This is why there are usually more women at church than men.

Now don’t misunderstand me: I’m not saying that women are spiritually superior to men. But I am saying that it is more in women’s nature than men’s nature to be receptive to the unseen and immaterial (and therefore spiritual) forces in the universe. This does not mean that women can then “sit back and relax” in the spiritual life though, because “to whom more is given, more is expected” (Luke 12:48). But I digress.

One of the central points of von le Fort in The Eternal Woman is that women are naturally more spiritual because they are, by their very nature, characterized by what cannot be seen and is hidden from view (i.e. the immaterial or the spiritual). They are characterized by the hidden because their primary sexual organs (whose presence makes them a woman) are hidden or “veiled” inside of their bodies, unlike the primary sexual organs of a man.

In Star Wars, the hidden, immaterial and spiritual part of reality is the Force. Some may critique The Force Awakens for giving Rey a stronger natural connection to the Force than her male counterparts because they see this as just another way that Hollywood has tried to build women up by tearing men down. And that might have been Hollywood’s intention, but this is the one instance where I actually think the result may have turned out for the better because Rey’s natural affinity for the Force reveals a fundamental difference between men and women while characterizing the unique “genius” of woman.

But before you go around proclaiming that “girls rule and boys drool” because of women’s innate spirituality, take a moment to really understand the nature of this feminine genius and its connection with the hidden act of surrender. The genius of woman, and her most profound gift, is her natural predisposition for the spiritual. Woman is therefore uniquely characterized by her spirituality in a way that man is not. This is the “privilege” that Alice von Hildebrand (a reader of Gertrude von le Fort) is thinking of when she writes The Privilege of Being a Woman. But remember that what is “spiritual” is also what is “immaterial” and is therefore what is “hidden” or “mysterious.” Therefore, woman is more naturally spiritual precisely because she is more naturally hidden. And when we say “natural” here, we mean natural in the sense of “this is how God created woman to be before the Fall.”

The Coronation of the Virgin (detail)

by Francesco di Giorgio Martini (1472-73)

This natural “hiddenness” is what leads von le Fort to say that the symbol of woman is the “veil” because “the veil is the symbol of the metaphysical.” She points out that the veil has never represented woman’s diminishment, despite what many people began to believe in the 20^th century. Rather, the veil has always been a symbol of woman’s profound exultation. Woman, wherever she appears most truly exalted, always appears in a hidden and humble manner “under a veil” even if that veil is a figurative one.

It’s no surprise then that the most exalted woman in all of time (the “Eternal Woman” that von le Fort speaks of) is the Virgin Mary. Furthermore, the moment of Mary’s greatest exaltation, the moment that merited her title of “Queen of Heaven and Earth” is the precise moment of her surrender to God in the Annunciation, a surrender allowing herself to be “overshadowed” by His Holy Spirit. Her veil then becomes a Veil of Flame and the Crown of her Glory. In case you didn’t catch that, Mary’s veil is literally the Holy Spirit.

Remember that von le Fort said that “For woman coming to the rescue means, in the strictest sense, that her action is not activity in itself, but surrender, which is but another form of the womanly ‘Be it done unto me.’” Why is this important? Because the moment of Mary’s exaltation when she heroically “comes to the rescue” is also the moment that she is “overshadowed” and “veiled” by the Supernatural. In other words, when Mary is most heroic she is also most hidden. When she is most exalted she is also most veiled. This truth has profound implications for what women are called to do when they are called to “rescue the world.”

Gertrude von le Fort gives a bit of clarity in the very next line: “From this it follows that the activity of woman withdraws of its own accord, when the need for it no longer exists. In this circumstance woman’s objective achievement finds its extraordinary, its largely thankless, therefore deeply veiled, recognition; but it finds there also its limitations. This is to say that the significance of woman in historical and cultural life cannot basically be dependent on her objective cooperation; it is much more profound than this.”

Translation: The heroism of woman has limitations and the beauty of these limitations is that they ought to be applied by the woman herself of her own accord. Therefore, woman has a more profound significance in historical and cultural life than may be objectively or visibly apparent because she withdraws of her own accord.

The heroism of woman is her act of hidden surrender. Therefore, if woman’s act ceases to be one of hidden surrender it ceases to be heroic.  As von le Fort says, “At the moment when the stronger power no longer desires to surrender but seeks self-glorification, a catastrophe is bound to ensue.” What does this mean for the character Rey? I’m not sure what the screenwriters have in mind, but if they cared about portraying the true feminine genius, they would be attentive to a character who represents the other half of humanity: Finn.

Symbiotic Salvation

Why should Rey not be the sole savior of her galaxy? Why must Finn somehow be involved? I think the answer lies in understanding why Mary is unable to be the sole savior in our galaxy. As Gertrude von le Fort says, “The salvation that woman brings ranges far beyond her; its proper fulfillment, its success upon earth, is man’s appointed mission.” It is true to say that Mary brings salvation, but to stop there is to leave out the best part: the life, death, and Resurrection of the man Jesus.

It is Christ who is the world’s Redeemer, but it is through Mary that Christ enters the world. Mary is the “gate” between Heaven and earth. It is in her womb that the spiritual and the material worlds meet. Mary’s heroic act of surrender allows the material world to encounter the spiritual world. Through her surrender, we are able to encounter the supernatural force that is God-Made-Man (Jesus).  As von le Fort says, “Woman has, in the utmost sense of the word, been the bearer of salvation. This does not apply to the sphere of religion alone—but because it is true in this sphere, it is valid in general.”

Like Mary, a woman acting heroically is not the savoir herself but is the one who brings salvation forth by helping men to fulfill their appointed mission of protection, service, and sacrifice. It is the difference between being the Co-Redemptrix and being the Redeemer. I mentioned St. Catherine of Siena and St. Joan of Arc earlier. Recall their missions: helping men (the pope in St. Catherine’s case and the king in St. Joan’s) to fulfill the mission God had called them to. Here, woman is man’s “helper” just as Eve is Adam’s helper in Genesis.

But to call woman a helper is not to imply that she is less than the man. Remember that when a woman is most veiled, she is also most exalted. Dr. Deborah Savage points out in her article “The Nature of Woman in Relation to Man” that the Hebrew word translated as “helper” in Genesis doesn’t mean “servant” or “slave” but rather “divine aid.” Eve is Adam’s partner and equal given to him by God, and as such she can help him to live and to become. In the words of Katrina Zeno, “The woman helps the man discover his own humanity, his own capacity for relational self-giving.” How awesome!

It’s clear that Rey has already been an important part of helping Finn discover “his own capacity for relational self-giving.” In doing so, Rey has helped Finn gain competency in this area, a crucial aspect of his coming to understand his own worth and masculine mission. I would love to see, in future movies, a plot in which Rey helps Finn grow even more in his “spiritual competency” (cough, cough…the Force) and that he learns to use this competency to better protect, serve and sacrifice for others (perhaps even as a Jedi himself). I would also love to see Rey (or perhaps Leia) help Kylo Ren come to this same competency, facilitating his return to the Light Side of the Force. And based on the ending of The Force Awakens I think there’s already a good indication that Rey will convince Luke to return to his masculine mission.

This more “hidden” role that I hope Rey will eventually take to allow Finn and the other male characters to fully step into their masculine mission is a humble one, I’ll admit. And some people, perhaps even devout Christians, might really criticize me for saying that such an apparently “lesser” role is representative of woman’s nature. But I would urge such people to look again at the idea that is at the heart of Christianity, an idea that is radically counter-cultural and is seemingly preposterous. This central idea is one that maintains that “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9), that “the last shall be first” (Mt 20:16), and that “the meek…shall inherit the earth” (Mt 5:5). At the very center of Christianity is the virtue of humility and the act of surrender yet Christianity maintains that these moments of weakness and apparent failure are really moments of triumph and exaltation (again, the moment woman is most veiled is also the moment she is most exalted).

Scripture gives us two images of this humble surrender, one feminine and one masculine. The first, as we’ve already discussed, is the image of feminine surrender: a humble woman veiled by the Holy Spirit. The second image is the masculine one: a humble Man hanging naked on a cross. Both man and woman are called to humble surrender. Both are called to give totally of their selves. Both are called to make heroic acts of love. And these acts of surrender to heroic, self-giving love are moments of triumph and exaltation for both Jesus and Mary, despite their apparent weakness and failure. Yet the simultaneous weakness and triumph of these acts is distinct for men and women. While the veil is drawn over the woman the veil is torn away from the Man (quite literally, not only in Jesus' nakedness but also in the tearing of the temple veil).

Crucifix by Benvenuto Cellini (1562)

It is this distinction that makes the humble and yet triumphant and heroic acts of man and woman complementary, just as the sexual acts of man and woman are complementary. Both the heroic and the sexual acts of man and woman are acts of surrender but the masculine acts are acts of initiation and the feminine acts are acts of reception. The point is that salvation (a new life) needs both. In order for us to be saved Christ “needs” us to be receptive to His gift of self but the Church also needs Him to give Himself to us. Christ and the Church, man and woman, are complementary in their salvific roles, and this is a “great mystery” (Eph 5:32). If one diminishes the salvific role of man, one diminishes the salvific role of Christ. Likewise, if one diminishes the salvific role of woman one diminishes the salvific role of the Church. To emphasize one sex over the other, regardless of whether it is the masculine or the feminine sex, is to quite literally eliminate the possibility for salvation of any sort.

So where does this leave us with The Force Awakens? I don’t have any more insight into the minds of the writers than anybody else when it comes to the plot for future movies. In The Force Awakens the writers have given us two main characters who have the potential to work together to bring salvation to their galaxy. This is encouraging, and I applaud Hollywood for the effort. That being said, there is still plenty of opportunity to derail this complementarity and make the newest installments all about Rey, to the detriment of Finn and quite honestly, everyone else. While Hollywood could literally put any collection of rubbish together, call it a plot and still make tons of money (ahem, Episodes I—III), if they are looking to present something true in these movies (as all great art should) then they will not waste the perfect set-up they have written for themselves in The Force Awakens.

Perhaps one of my favorite scenes from the movie is the one in which Rey and Finn are flying around in the Millennium Falcon as they are chased by TIE fighters. This is a great example of a man and a woman working together in an interdependent manner. Neither is dominating the other and I think it’s safe to say that they would not have survived this situation without their mutual cooperation. This is the type of scene we need to see more of in movies: a scene characterized by the interdependent cooperation between men and women.

Please Hollywood, I beg of you, give us more of this. It’s OK if the characters are broken and struggling with the wounds that characterize the men and women of their day (and ours). But show us models of masculinity and femininity fighting on, side by side, despite these wounds. Show us men and women helping and sacrificing for each other. Show us men and women working together to save their galaxy.

Because who knows, maybe, just maybe, if enough people saw it, that galaxy wouldn't be that far far away after all...

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Alyssa is a Junior at Franciscan studying Humanities and Catholic Culture, Theology, and Philosophy. She is a native of Texas where she lives with her family in a blue-roofed house on top of a hill. She is passionate about the Truth of the Lord's Incarnation and loves spending time discovering and discussing ways in which others have incarnated the Gospel in film, history, literature, politics, and art. Her favorite saints are St. Teresa of Avila and St. Catherine of Siena because they both personify St. John Paul II's "feminine genius" in her mind.

Our Good, Good Father

I have a confession to make. I have been in serious spiritual desolation for the last four months. And y’all, it stinks. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. But it’s the Year of Mercy! And this morning, our good Father hit me over the head with His mercy!

This morning, as I was trying to pray morning prayer, I reached the end of the intentions portion, and I realized that I didn’t have the strength to pray for anything that wasn’t already scripted for me. So instead of trying to spout off the thousands of intentions I know that I should pray for, I opened my hands and my heart to God and cried out, “Father, you know the intentions of my heart even better than I do, and I don’t have the strength to pray for them myself, but I give you this empty vessel I call a heart and hope that it’ll be enough for You.”

And despite the fact that it’s a very meager gift for the King of kings, I think it was the most pleasing thing I could have given Him.

Maybe this is the mercy of God—that it is more pleasing to Him when we come to Him with empty hands and breaking hearts than when we come to Him with what we think is perfection and righteousness.

Because the reality is that we’re never going to be sinless or perfect in this life. There will always be something within us that is lacking, that needs to strive for a higher degree of perfection. It’s the price that comes with being fallen creatures in a fallen world.

And you know what? I think God prefers it that way. If we were already perfect, or if belief in God were the only necessary requirement for Heaven and it didn’t matter how we lived or sinned (a common misconception in our modern culture), then we wouldn’t need a Savior now. We would only have needed Him to die for us that one time 2,000 years ago, and we wouldn’t need Him now. We don’t still need a Savior if we’re already saved, right? Sure, we might still really love Him—after all, how can you not love someone if you truly believed that He died for you? But we wouldn’t need Him, not really.

But here’s the thing: God is a Father. And like any good father, He wants His children to need Him. 

So often, I’m tempted to think that I need to pick myself up from my sin and make myself perfect before I can approach my Father’s throne. But more often than not, I can’t do that. Most of the time, when I approach that throne, I do so with empty hands. And sometimes, I have to crawl my way to that throne, because I don’t have the strength to pick myself up and walk.

And as I was praying about that this morning, you know what I heard Him speak to my heart? Well obviously you don't, so I'm about to tell you: He prefers it that way. He wants to be the one to pick us up. He doesn’t want the finished product. He wants all of us, all of our brokenness, because He wants to be the one to fix us, to make us whole.

There’s this song that I love. I want you to take a few moments to listen to it now, because I think we all need the reminder. It's called Good Good Father, click here.

Oh I’ve head a thousand stories of what they think you’re like, but I’ve heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night, and you tell me that you’re pleased and that I’m never alone. 

You’re a good, good Father, it’s who you are, it’s who you are, it’s who you are, and I’m loved by you, it’s who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am. 

I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide, but I know we’re all searching for answers only you provide, cause you know just what we need before we say a word.

The mercy of God lies in the fact that He loves us. Not because of who we are, but because of who He is—goodness itself. 

Today, I’m thankful for my brokenness in a way that I have never been before. Because it is only when I acknowledge and embrace my brokenness that I can clearly hear that tender whisper that reminds me who I am—a daughter loved and cherished beyond belief.

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Catie Destatte is a senior Theology and Catechetics major. She has a passion for writing, Mama Mary, ministry to women, and evangelization. Her life motto is Totus Tuus Maria, and she tries to live that out in her every moment. Along with being a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, she's involved in Capture My Heart Core Team, Liturgy Committee, and Totus Tuus Maria Household. Her five great loves are JPII, St. Peter, tea, praise and worship music, and the ocean. Along with Shannon, one of Catie's roles in Women's Ministry is to run this blog. You can find out more about her here.

The Wise Men

“Behold, Wise Men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and have come to worship him.’ When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” (Matthew 2:1-3)

You know the rest of the story all too well. After Herod poses as a well-wishing fellow adorer, the Wise Men continue on their merry way and find the child with his mother. They prostrate themselves in worship and present their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. They intend to give Herod the stable address, but an angel in a dream conveniently prevents their return to the king by hanging a huge detour sign over the palace. 

Matthew’s account of the Christmas story is worth meditating upon. I love to picture Jesus nestled in the protective arms of Mary. Picture the rich kings, born in the grand halls of Eastern palaces, now adoring a little baby born in the poverty of a stable. The Wise Men make me think of what gifts I myself can present to the Christ child, or of the great courage needed to leave every security and seek Jesus.

With all this rich material for prayer, I often pass over the details of Herod as historical background info.  But this time, I was really struck by one simple, seemingly insignificant sentence:

“When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all of Jerusalem with Him.” (Matthew 2:3)

To be fair, I can understand why Herod is troubled.  A few men from Persia show up on his doorstep babbling about a certain star and their intent to worship a new king of the Jews.  Surely, this situation made a light bulb go off for Herod. It must have reminded him of Balaam’s prophesy: “A star shall come forth out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel…Edom shall be dispossessed.” (Numbers 24:17-18).

Ok, I know we aren’t biblical scholars, and even with Advent readings we aren’t exactly experts on Old Testament prophesies.  First you should know that Herod is an Edomite (non-Jew), who was appointed by the Romans as king. He is troubled by this star and newborn king because he knows that He is the Edomite Balaam says will be dispossessed. He knows his kingdom will be overthrown and he will lose his power.

So Herod is troubled. Fair enough.  But all of Jerusalem with him?

Aren’t these the people who have been waiting for a Savior? Who lived through slavery in Egypt? Who wandered in the desert? Who were exiled in Babylon? The prophesies aren’t warning them of this new king—they are reassuring them that he is indeed coming! They know he is the Prince of Peace who is coming to restore unity, to destroy their enemies, and to establish a new Kingdom. 

They know that Jesus has come to save them from their brokenness.  And yet, the gospel says that all of Jerusalem is troubled.  How does this make any sense?

I am judging Herod, and I’m judging Jerusalem even more! They are troubled by the birth of their Savior. And yet, I can’t help but become embarrassed. I see myself in Herod. I see myself in all of Jerusalem. 

As the Savior of all mankind, Jesus came to save even Herod and welcome him into the eternal kingdom. Herod is troubled because he doesn’t want to give up his earthly kingdom and power. Like Herod, I too am troubled when God asks me to give up my attachments and power.  He has asked me to physically get rid of some of my belongings and to mortify my own will.  He has even asked me to give up certain friendships.  And it’s painful. Believe me, I cling to my possessions, to certain people and to my sense of control. Why? Because, like Herod, I don’t trust that what He has for me is better. But Jesus is trustworthy, and he empties only to fill.  He will take our earthly possessions only to give us his eternal riches in heaven. 

I know all too well that I am like the people of Jerusalem--enslaved to sin and wandering in confusion. Although they only had prophesies promising a Savior, I have the fulfillment. I know that Jesus has already become incarnate and come to save me from my brokenness.  And still, I am troubled when he comes to me.  How often have I avoided confession because I am troubled by the very mercy that will flood my soul and free me from the bonds of sin and death? How often am I troubled by the need to pray or go to Mass, seeing it as a mere item to check off on my to-do list?

This Christmas season, let’s throw away our foolish troubles.  Be not afraid--He has come to save us! Let’s rejoice that Jesus has come to fill us with greater riches than we can imagine (even if he empties us first). Let’s celebrate that He has come to save us from our brokenness and our sin.  Let’s run to him in Bethlehem with the Wise Men who left everything they had to worship a tiny baby under a shining star. 

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Mari Seaberg is a junior nursing major from Gilbert, Arizona.  Her favorite saint is St. Alphonsus Liguori, a Doctor of the Church. As a member of Women's Ministry Core Team, Mari feels called to "give myself in service to the women of this campus because the Lord has repeatedly shown me what a precious gift femininity is, lived out so uniquely by each individual woman. I hope to give of myself and to become a better daughter of the Father in the process."