In many Catholic circles today, the Proverbs 31 woman is held up as the ultimate model of biblical femininity. And rightly so. She is dignified, industrious, generous, and beloved. But while she’s become something of a shorthand for the “ideal Catholic wife,” it’s worth asking: is this the only—or even the primary—template for holy womanhood (besides Our Blessed Mother)?
Not every Catholic woman begins at Proverbs 31. Some begin more like Mary of Bethany.
In Mulieris Dignitatem, Pope St. John Paul II wrote that women “express the ‘human’ as much as men do, but in a different way,” and that this expression often manifests in spiritual receptivity, contemplation, and intimacy with God. These are not secondary traits. They are foundational expressions of the feminine genius. If we lose sight of this dimension and only measure holiness by visible productivity, we risk missing one of the Church’s richest truths: that presence can be just as powerful as action.
Mary of Bethany appears three times in the Gospels, and each time, she is at the feet of Jesus. In Luke 10, while her sister Martha busies herself with serving, Mary sits and listens. When Martha expresses frustration, Jesus replies, “Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her” (Lk. 10:42). In John 11, she falls at His feet in grief after the death of her brother Lazarus. And in John 12, she anoints His feet with costly perfume and dries them with her hair:
Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. (Jn. 12:3 NRSV-CE)
Mary’s action was neither “productive” nor socially acceptable—it was prophetic. She prepared Christ for His burial when even the apostles did not understand what was coming. Hers was a priestly act of love, offered not in the temple but in the home. A woman pouring out everything to God.
In a culture that often values efficiency over intimacy, her act reminds us that holiness begins with devotion. She didn’t wait for a formal ministry to begin serving Christ. She acted from the depth of her love.
Have you ever felt unsure of how God might be calling you to love and serve Him right now, especially for those of us who are neither married, nor pursuing a vocation to religious life? It’s easy to dwell on plans that remain unfulfilled or mull over questions of where your talents and gifts are supposed to take you. But let’s let Mary of Bethany be a guide. She shows that it is exactly within this space—where plans remain unfulfilled—that the invitation to a deeper interior life is given.
The answer is not to “busy ourselves” into holiness, nor to assume that our lives lack meaning until they become visibly fruitful. We are not saved by our productivity. We are sanctified by our union with Christ, formed through time with Him, prayer, and the sacraments.
St. Edith Stein wrote, “The woman’s soul is fashioned as a shelter in which other souls may unfold.” This unfolding begins in hiddenness, in submission, in the cultivation of interior stillness that prepares a woman to receive whatever God entrusts to her. Without that silence and interior cultivation, we might miss what the Lord is trying to give to us.
Mary of Bethany is not the opposite of the Proverbs 31 woman. She is her beginning. Before she serves, she must listen. Before she multiplies, she must receive. The feminine genius lies not merely in what we do, but in the disposition of our hearts. This is not passive; it is the active, interior discipline of receptivity.
Mary, the Mother of God, is the model of total receptivity. Women like Mary of Bethany and the Blessed Mother remind us that even before the Cross, there were women whose spiritual attentiveness shaped salvation history. They perceived truth and responded to it with profound love.
In a culture that prizes control, visibility, and constant self-assertion, the witness of Mary of Bethany reminds us that some of the most powerful acts of love are quiet, sacrificial, and unnoticed by the world. Her example offers a countercultural view of strength—one grounded not in self-projection but in self-gift.
Holiness does not always look like busyness. Sometimes, it looks like showing up to daily Mass or silent Adoration. It looks like stewarding a small apartment well. It looks like praying the Rosary on a walk, making daily examens, and going to confession regularly. It may even look like living with uncertainty, yet still trusting that God is forming you.
Mary of Bethany’s name has endured not because she achieved, but because she adored.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
