Jesus and Women (and Me)

Perhaps it is no wonder that the women were the first and the Cradle and the last at the Cross.  They had never known a man like this Man—there had never been such another.  A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, who never flattered or coaxed or patronized; who never made arch jokes about them, never treated them as “The women, God help us!” or “The ladies, God bless them!”; who rebuked without querulousness (peevishness or grumbling) and praised without condescension; took their questions and arguments seriously, who never mapped out their sphere for them, never urged them to be feminine or jeered at them for being female; who had no ax to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend; who took them as he found them and was completely unselfconscious.

There is no act, no sermon, no parable in the whole Gospel that borrows its pungency from female perversity; nobody could possibly guess from the words of Jesus that there was anything “funny” about woman’s nature.

But we might easily deduce it from His contemporaries, and from His prophets before Him, and from His church to this day.

 I read these words by Dorothy Sayers, and they’ve been rolling around in my brain ever since.  They make me want to jump up and down for joy at the thought of being treated this way.   It makes me anxious to meet my Savior.  Who’s with me?