Fashioned to Protect: Ribs and the Mystery of Woman

So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then he took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man.” // Genesis 2:21-22

Made From a Man

The words of the Creation Story were proclaimed from the pulpit one innocuous Thursday. Sitting in the pew, I swiped a quick hand over my own rib cage. I come from a rib. What a strange and unsettling thought.

Then I began to consider what it might mean, that in the second creation story in the Bible, the first woman was formed from the rib of the first man. The first instinct, trained in me by the radical feminist culture, is that this is somehow something offensive. How dare it be suggested that man had anything to do with the creation of woman! How dare they claim that a woman is only part of a man! How dare the Bible call me a rib!

In her short story “Attrib.” Eley Williams, a lesbian author, struggles with this same problem and depicts Eve as an unwilling participant in her own creation. “Eve is painted standing at Adam’s side with her arms raised . . . it is the posture of one who is diving, or perhaps slightly hunched in supplication. She is playing Charades, gamely, against her will, and her audience is having none of it.” God, the male figure, “gets to wear clothes.”

Contemporary culture has taught us that to be made from a rib is to be terribly naked, in a vulnerable position before dominant masculinity: a situation wholly undesirable and morbidly comic.

The Feminine Genius

My seven years as a homeschooler, six years of Catholic school, two years of convent discerning, and four years of Catholic college emphatically contradict such a demeaning vision of the creation of woman. The fact that man comes from dust and woman comes from man is a sign of her elevated status in society: that she alone was created from another human being, not dust. Woman is a helpmate for man, the last made in creation and therefore the most complex and elevated of all God’s bodily creatures.

Pope Saint John Paul II, in Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body, writes that the passages of Genesis, in which Adam rejoices over Eve, show that to be truly human is to be in communion. He writes that “man became the image of God not only through his own humanity, but also through the communion of persons, which man and woman form from the very beginning” (9:3, p.163). This communion of persons he calls the original unity, of which woman is an integral part. To be a woman is a beautiful gift, and a special way of imaging God through not only her individuality but also her unity with man.

And so, I identify with a rib.

When I returned from Mass I searched my dear friend, The Oxford English Dictionary, for answers. It told me that a “rib” is “the series of long, narrow curved bones articulated in pairs to the spine in humans and other vertebrates, enclosing or tending to enclose the thoracic (or body) cavity and protecting the main internal organs within it.” It also told me that back in the 1500s “rib” was an acceptable word to use when discussing one’s wife.

The ribs protect a man’s squishy internal organs from harm. What is Scripture saying about women when it tells of God taking the rib of man to make the first woman?

The Power of a Rib

My fellow women: to be a woman is to know the empty gap in a man’s defenses where the rib once was. To be a woman is to know precisely the way to get to his heart. To be a woman is to know his weaknesses. What you do with that knowledge is up to you.

Perhaps the most infernal version of a woman is a manipulative one. She is the one who twists words and circumstances to get her way regardless of the feelings and dignity of others. A woman knows the weak spots in man’s natural armor, and therefore has a kind of power over him, knowing just where to aim to mock him and bring him low. There is a reason teasing is sometimes called “ribbing.” Some women take weakness in men as a challenge, an opportunity to slay him like a dragon in a fantasy novel. Once they discover the chink in his armor, made by themselves, they do not hesitate to exploit it, and stab man through the heart.

Consider that the Church stabbed her own Bridegroom through the ribs on their wedding night.

But there is an alternative. While a rib can cause great damage to a man when twisted and broken, it is made to protect his heart and all that lies within it. In a healthy relationship, the woman will quietly guard the heart of her man, lifting him up, encouraging him, holding within her his secrets, dreams, and fears. She will slough off anything that may try to harm him through her. He, in turn, will guard her in the best way he can, fighting with his words, his fists, his arms, before allowing anything close to his ribs. He guards her, she guards his heart.

Women can have great power over the opposite sex, but are called, instead, to complete him—to make him stronger. We are meant to image God by our unity as man and woman, husband and wife.

So yes, as women our identity involves the story of a rib. Dear sisters, let’s pray that we use that knowledge for good.

Rosie Hall is a published writer, podcast producer, and lover of well-steeped tea. Her articles have appeared in CatholicVote's LOOP, Caeli Catholic, and the online lifestyle magazine Refine. She has also appeared as a guest on the LOOPcast. After spending several years discerning a religious vocation, Rosie went to school for literature at Ave Maria University where she served as the managing editor for Magnify, the school's creative journal. Soon she will be attending Oxford University to study for her master’s in literature.