The New Jerome

In class thus far, we’ve read a lot of things, which—although all have something to do with embodiment—are very different; some concern incarnation, some monasticism, et cetera. I’ve noticed, however, that they all have one very particular thing in common: they reject pleasures of the flesh in favor of a heightened spiritual connection with God. This isn’t something that I disagree with, necessarily—regardless of one’s religious practices and beliefs, it can be safely assumed that veneration of God is placed above veneration of self. And, of course, humility can never hurt. What I disagree with is the degree to which these texts suggest one abstains. I think this can mostly be attributed to the time in which they were written; obviously, cultures change, and with that, their values. Likewise, the texts we read—especially religious texts, texts that are intended to have a profound impact on their lives—should change in accordance with the time. I’m not saying that the texts themselves should be altered, but I think that modern-day texts should be more readily available.

Take, for example, Jerome’s “Letter to Eustochium,” which advocates a woman’s virginity and provides a set of rules by which she should live her life, so as to resist “temptation.” These rules include such things as fasting, spending time with parents, and reading, all in the interest of remaining pure. To the modern audience, this seems ridiculous—why is only the woman responsible for suppressing desire? Like other texts of its time, it doesn’t recognize (admittedly modern) ideas of equality. I wish there were more modern-day supplementary texts to the Bible, texts that discussed virginity in a way that didn’t make women feel guilty for making a decision that is entirely their own. Because, of course, virginity is never a bad thing—nor is spending time with one’s parents, or reading, or deciding to fast. The problem comes with the fact that these texts don’t offer another option, don’t factor in that the modern woman—the modern person—now has more choices.

Practicing Christians are still reading these texts and are supposed to glean information from them—information that will, ideally, inform and further their faith. The more our culture advances, however, the more confusing this gleaning becomes: the harder it becomes to separate what’s applicable from what cannot be.

It seems silly, especially in the context of today’s world, to isolate and prevent personal pleasures. It makes more sense to me that one is happy while pleasing their god—otherwise, what’s the point? I would be interested in Jerome’s modern counterpart; an answer for a woman who wants to live fully and recently, but who still wants to maintain her faith. I think that these texts are still very important; they have informed texts being written today and will continue to do so. I do think, however, that they are slowly, gradually, losing their relevancy.