Magyar Egyház, 1974 (53. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1974-08-01 / 8-9. szám
MAGYAR EGYHÁZ May the heart’s best impulse ever check them ’ere they soil the lip.” They are often extremely talented: able to play the piano, speak in public, preside over a meeting, entertain large crowds. They consider their husband the all-wise man of God, the head of the house who can see, hear and speak no evil. Put a perfectionist— endowed with more than her share of the above characteristics—into the pressures of a parish or mission field and one can almost predict when she’ll succumb. The problems of the minister's wife are essentilly the same as they were 40 years ago. Solutions are also basically the same, only they appear today in different forms. Here are some of the tensions with which I feel we must grapple. Both she and her husband represent the church. She stands publicly beside him and together they function as one. Many prayers are offered to God, “For the minister and his wife who work among us.” Ministers wish their private lives to be separate from their ministry, and denominational officials freely state whether or not to become involved in her husband’s job. But I believe a conscientious spouse finds it most difficult to insulate herself from the excitement of the parish. How can she remain composed and relaxed in the middle of the rush and surge of church life where she must he botli an active participant and a silent observer, a full member yet an objective outsider, entangled but free? She is looked up to as a model woman in conduct and spirit, and in her role as housewife and mother. “P.K.’s” (preachers’ kids) have rough times fighting for their right to be normal children. Parsonages continue to be made of glass, so to speak, open to all peering eyes. This scrutiny of eyes and opinions follows her wherever her husband is known, placing on her a stamp of approval or disapproval. A church member said to me, “Yes, I love to go dancing, but I don’t think I would like to see a minister’s wife doing it.” She will never be rich solely from her husband’s salary. But the gnawing desire for attractive home furnishings, clothes to dress her children equal to their peers, phone calls to far-away relatives—all such stifled yearnings can be grains of sand irritating to the most dedicated soul. Life requires that she make many adjustments. A recent remark stirred up strong feelings within me: “The minister is the one we should he concerned about. His wife can adjust to anything!” Can she, really? So often she must say goodbye to relatives U without the assurance of even a triennial return visit, pull up roots in one spot only to put down temporary ones in another, see her children become tense and irritable because they too, must learn to accept second choices in life. She feels she should be happy just because she and her husband are in full-time Christian service. We love to read of heroic church women who marched radiantly through the battles of life in cold winter weather, on parched desert sands, with food for breakfast yet nothing in the larder for supper, standing helplessly by as a child is buried at sea. But how often is a smile on the outside only a camouflage for human grief on the inside, with resentment toward the church for its unawareness, and toward a life which demands perpetual giving of oneself? How does a person deal with increasing pressures when she can’t cope with them? Perhaps the majority of us troubled wives merely join the host of others who develop psychosomatic symptoms— ulcers, headaches, colitis, insomnia or floating worries—physical compensations for personal needs crying out for attention. We may try to ignore our negative feelings by excessive church work, running from one event to another until we become tangled in a web from which we cannot escape. But inevitably some of us develop serious depressive overtones, retreating to a sickbed with frozen anger which cries out, “It doesn’t matter about me. I’ll get along. I am grateful I have all the things I really need. Why should I want anything else? But cold, damp fog is covering me and I can’t push it back. I can’t do anything in the church. I can’t even do my housework. I’m no good, no good to anyone!” These are people who ring their alarms loudest of all. I don’t want the church office and the church phone to be in the parsonage! I don’t want to know what my husband does with his working hours between 8:00 A.M. and 5:00 P.M. If he comes home to read or do parish business it bothers me, and it would affect him the same way if I went to his church study to mix a cake or do my ironing! I love my husband and I want to do my thing during the day and be fresh for him when he comes home at night. Make a definite effort to get to know her. Many wives adjust slowly and require a full year of living in a new environment before beginning to feel at home. How much easier for 500 people to identify one, than for the one to learn 500 nem names and faces! Invite her to a concert, to your women’s club meeting, for coffee at a local restaurant, for a shop
