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Is there a job description for a priest's wife? I don't think so. And perhaps it's better that way. If there were, it would probably be impossible to tick all the boxes: to be sociable, but not too much; present everywhere, but not neglect her family; to know how to speak, to know how to be silent, to organize, to cook, to sing, to work with children, to have patience with everyone and, if possible, to smile while doing it all!
I think we can quietly give up on this imaginary job description. Perhaps there is, however, only one truly important condition: to love God with all her heart. The rest falls into place differently from person to person.
The world loves to compare. We compare priests, we compare parishes and, inevitably, we compare priest's wives too. "Look what that priest's wife over there is doing!" "How beautifully the other one takes care of the children!" "How close she is to people!" But God did not create two people alike. Why should all priest's wives be the same?...
Some are shy, others are voluble. Some enter a room and, within ten minutes, get to know half the people; others need time to open up. Some have the gift of organization, others know how to listen. Some work wonderfully with children, others can simply sit next to someone in distress without saying much, and their very presence brings comfort.
Each one comes with her own gifts, strengths, and way of approaching people. That is why what I am writing here, I write only in my own name. I am not trying to create the job description I just abolished. I do believe, however, that a priest's wife's primary place is in her family. I don't mean this in the sense of a perfect family − I don't even know if such a thing exists − but rather a family where spouses care for each other, children are seen and heard, and the home doesn't end up last on the list because the parish came first.
At my husband's ordination, His Eminence Benedict told him a very simple thing that has remained in our hearts: to take care of his family, because if the family is settled and united, he will be better able to bear the care of the people entrusted to him. It seems like a simple word. But how much truth it holds! Because before being "the priest's wife," this woman is a wife. She is a mother, if God has blessed her with children. She has a home, fatigues, joys, worries, sometimes sick children, homework to do, groceries, and who knows how many things that are not seen on Sunday when she enters the church.
Only then, each according to her strengths and gifts, can she open up to the larger family of the parish. I was very glad when, a year or two ago (I don't even know exactly, time has its own reckoning!), I joined the international community of priest's wives "Saint Nona." I discovered how useful it is to hear the experiences of other priest's wives, to receive a word of guidance, and, especially, to find out that many of the things you go through are not yours alone.
The stories of other priest's wives don't give us recipes, but they can give us courage. Sometimes they teach us what to do. Other times, just as importantly, what not to do. The life of a priest's wife also involves sacrifice. But I believe sacrifice needs a lot of discernment. Not every exhaustion is a sacrifice, and not every "yes" said to everyone is necessarily helpful. For me, the order is this: first wife, then mother, and, alongside my husband, a support in the work to which he has been called. Because the work of a priest's wife doesn't have to be spectacular to be true. Sometimes it might mean gathering children around her. Other times, observing a mother who seems to be at her limit. Bringing a plate of food to someone sick. Listening. Reconciling two people who have drifted apart. Or, simply, creating around her that feeling that a person is welcome and has a place.
I believe that every priestess, in the context of her life, should do what she feels she can do for the benefit of those around her, through prayer and discernment. Without constantly comparing herself to the work of another. Some works are visible. Others may never be known by people. And that is very good.
God's work is so mysterious! The priestess can bring a special sensitivity and closeness to the parish. Sometimes, children approach her more easily. Other times, women. Other times, a person who wouldn't dare to tell the priest directly what troubles them begins by speaking with the priestess. Not because she has a priestly ministry, but because God also works through the closeness between people.
I have come to believe that a priest's family can become a great blessing for a parish. Not through perfection, nor through the image of a problem-free family, but through naturalness, through love, and through the willingness to welcome others close. But this work does not go in just one direction. Just as the priest and his family pray for the people entrusted to them, the prayers of the parishioners also carry them. A parish is not made up of a priest who gives and some people who receive. It is a larger family where, when things are beautifully arranged, people come to carry one another in prayer, both in times of joy and in times of trouble.
Perhaps this is, after all, the most beautiful 'job description' for a priestess: to love God, to love her family, and to remain with an open heart towards the people He places in her path. The rest differs from one priestess to another. And I believe that therein lies the beauty.
Andreea Macra