Reading Unseduced and Unshaken organized and articulated many ideas that
have been knocking around in my brain for decades. Here is just one example: I
find it hard to look at photos of exercise coaches in health magazines. First—These personal trainers show
embarrassingly more skin than any normal woman would. Do they not realize the
women they hope to motivate to exercise do not want to see their breasts, or
any airbrushed, bronzed perfection, for that matter? Couldn’t the coaches show
they are physically fit in more modest workout gear?
Second—These coaches claim to want to empower
women to become stronger and healthier. Do they not know they allow themselves
to be exploited by the media when they bare most of their body parts to
millions of viewers? Do they really think their “Be strong, be free” message
shouts more loudly than the “Sex sells” photos of them?
These questions about exercise coaches
have bothered me for a long time. Don’t get me started on the décolletage of
brilliant, articulate TV news anchors or on movie costumes that turn intelligent
actresses in serious roles into soft-porn stars. And doesn’t it break your
heart to see what teen girls wear to school and the mall these days? They wear
less and less. They reveal more and more. Which brings me to this book: Unseduced and Unshaken: The Place of Dignity
in a Young Woman’s Choices in which Rosalie de Rosset and three other
contributors share rich reflections in ten chapters.
De Rosset begins by defining dignity as
“a strong, chosen, deliberate way of life, the result of the totality of a
person’s choices and worldview.” Further, the Christian woman must understand
who she is before God. Examples draw strongly on the strong character of
fictional heroine Jane Eyre, who showed “the need for women … to fulfill their
gifts, to use their creativity, to stretch beyond prescribed activities and
passivity to true humanity. Dignity requires the development of principle and
the use of intelligence.”
Pam MacRae writes about finding one’s
voice in order to know and be known. She says, “… by humbly offering our voice
and graciously accepting the voice of another, we reflect God’s pattern of
relating. To know God and be known by God helps us understand our capacity to
be known to each other.”
Linda Haines discusses the person
divided “between who I think I am and who I really am.” Women long for
wholeness and want to believe the culture’s promising-sounding paths to
self-confidence. The Apostle Paul’s wisdom rings truer: It is impossible for us to manage fleshly impulses and
thus unite our divided self. The fact is, what the culture touts lures women
further from God, where true fulfillment and wholeness are found.
In building a historical case for
modest dress, Stacie Parlee-Johnson makes a stunning revelation: “The need for
clothing is a confession of our need for Christ Himself.” God originally gave
Adam and Eve clothing to cover their shame better than their fig leaves could.
Parlee-Johnson follows with comforting words: “God designed us for union, and
we crave it still. This is why we desire to be naked, because we desire
intimacy.” Nakedness within marriage represents holy unity. Outside of
marriage, sexy or immodest dress perverts God’s best intent for us.
These are brief summaries of four of
the ten chapters. (Each chapter has Discussion Questions and Suggested
Reading.) The other six chapters give reasoned treatment to dignity-related
topics as well. Not surprisingly, the empty temptations of our culture pop up
often in this book. This resonates with me; in fact, my novel, Beyond Betrayal, could be a
fictionalized account of the points in Unseduced
and Unshaken. The young female characters’ dignity (or lack thereof)
corresponds to their responses to varying voices in modern culture. Their
choice of dress, leisure pursuits, reading material, and money expenditures
reveals who they are. Although my heroine still searches for her voice, her heroines are dignified literary
heroines like Jane Eyre and Elizabeth Bennet who value moral tradition.
Unseduced
and Unshaken
challenged me. It’s clearly written, but it’s deep, and I often found myself
saying, “Hmmm …” and then rereading a section to think it through. I liked the
book’s frankness about sex. When I was a young girl, I tucked a newspaper
clipping under the glass on my desktop (the old-fashioned wooden kind of desktop).
The clip was a quote from journalist Sydney J. Harris: “Don’t let the good
things in life rob you of the best.” My understanding of his wise aphorism has deepened
over the decades, of course. Reading Unseduced
and Unshaken gave me a new appreciation for God’s best. And now I better
understand that every decision a woman makes matters. Her respectability
depends on it.