A Defense of Men Doing Housework

Gosh I love science. Or whatever this is.

“Couples may be better off living in a “traditional” household where women do all the housework if they want to stay together, according to a report from the Oslo and Akershus University College of Applied Science.”

What a mercy that someone is trying to figure out what causes men and women to stay together without divorcing. I’m not very science-y minded, having, as I do, so much housework to plough through. Fortunately Matt found this study and sent it to me.

“The results showed 65 percent of couples equally or near-equally divided childcare, but not housework: Women reported doing all or almost all of the work in 11 percent of couples and ‘somewhat more of the work’ in 60 percent of couples. About 25 percent of couples divided the work more equally, with younger couples, childless couples, and couples where the woman had a full-time job among those more likely to split domestic chores.”

And you know what happens when the work is split equally? The end of the world. That’s what.

“‘The more a man does in the home, the higher the divorce rate,’ said Thomas Hansen, co-author of the study entitled “Gender Equality At Home,” according to AFP.”

The authors are careful to point out that it’s not the housework per se that brings about the divorce, it’s the attitudes couples bring with them, and more traditional couples, where the women do all the housework, tend also to have a higher view of marriage.

And that’s the rub. It’s the attitude you bring to whatever you’re doing. Which is why I don’t really buy it when nice women say to me, “we submit to each other”. I submit to him, he submits to me. And we’re all as happy as peaches. I always like to look into the eyes of the man and see how happy he looks, how much he likes submitting to his wife.

It’s not the housework, or even, I would say, the starting commitment to marriage, although that is critically important to long term happiness. It’s the words that you use to understand what it is you’re trying to do, the frames that you put around your endeavor. And men shouldn’t have to “submit” to their wives. They shouldn’t have time, being so so busy “sacrificing” for their wives. Externally, you may not be able to tell the difference, but when you dig around to find out what a couple thinks about what they’re doing, if you find that the man is thinking of all his work as a sacrifice, you’re going to find a different look in his face, and the quality of his clenched jaw.

Why is this so? Because Jesus doesn’t submit himself to the church. He doesn’t really ask her what she thinks he should do. He doesn’t wander around after her, hoping for an equal share of attention with the children. He doesn’t work a boring job and then come home to be nagged by her. Rather, he sacrifices, or dies to himself for her. I suppose I could put scare quotes around “dies to himself” because more often than not, for the man trying to inadequately reflect Christ into the world, he doesn’t actually have to physically die. Although the fact that he is willing to undergirds everything he does. There are a thousand small deaths of the husband that give life and succor to his wife.

To the untrained eye, they may look upsettingly egalitarian. If you were to wander into my house, you might be shocked to find Matt painstakingly polishing all my furniture, as he did on Saturday. And then he stripped the floors with some wretched tiny spray bottle of some ghastly chemical. And he breathed it in, foolish man, and stood up looking deathly pale. Just like Jesus.

And why did he do it? Why does he catch me up on the laundry and do all the cooking at the weekends and keep the garden in beauty and serenity? Why does he take the vacuum out of my hands, with mutterings of profanity, and shout at me when I start mucking about with the recycling? Why does he bring a tray of that dark elixir of life–strong black tea–to my bedside each morning, so that before my feet hit the floor I have had my mind and heart caffeinated and enlivened? Is it because he is submitting to me as I submit to him? Not the least. He is sacrificing. He is ordering all his day and work around my happiness and comfort. He has plans and hopes for me.

Those plans include me homeschooling the children and not hating every moment of it. They include me keeping pace with my book editor. They include me blogging every day, and having a long walk in the afternoon so I don’t lose my mind. They include me spending long hours at church, sometimes, painting little objects for Sunday school and writing curriculum and a lot of other tasks. He wants me to be happy, and well, both in body and soul. And so he sacrifices enormously for the comfort of my mind, body and heart.

And what of me? Well. The church doesn’t tell Jesus what to do. So, I don’t do that much. I occupy myself with his happiness as he does mine, but I don’t have to die, because I’m not Jesus. I can arrange our lives so that he has room to think and work and rest. I can concoct meals that will restore him and provide gracious respite. And, I can inquire of him often what he is thinking and planning and doing. Not so that I can muscle in and tell him how to do it better, but in many cases so that I can arrange my day to make his work easier. I “submit” my plans to his. And because his plans include my comfort, I don’t worry about much.

Of course, this picture could go terribly awry. We see obvious abuse on every side. The man shuffling to his sports cave. The man over bearing and abusive. The man indifferent and unkind. The woman too meek or too domineering. And so on and on and on. But the corruptions of the picture do not nullify the means of understanding what we ought to be trying to do, the frame we put around it.

How interesting that the world would notice that one kind of married arrangement holds more surely than another. How pathetic when I, as a Christian, cannot articulate clearly what kind of life I am trying to lead. It is not traditional nor untraditional. Nor even complimentarian or egalitarian (what ugly sounding words, try saying them out loud). It is to what degree a Christian couple reflects the mysterious glory of the cross, of Jesus and the Church.