Of Arcs and Trajectories: Portrait of an Expatriate - Part Two: "Woman, what do you have to do with me?"
- Code of Canon Law, Book II - The People of God, Cannon No. 212
Yeah, long title here but what I'm about to write flows from my emerging story in the church. Being a "2" on the enneagram means that I am a connector who values balance and works in community to help it fully live-into its vision and identity. This blessed reality requires holding various contributing beliefs and practices in tension, which is like holding a rubber band tautly between the index fingers and thumbs of two hands. For me, being this kind of person in the Catholic church is at present is a tension I have been unable to manage, meaning that if I sought to abide within and support the paradigms currently espoused by the local church, I'd snap due to the sacrosanct nature of the male-only priesthood. On the other hand, I didn't want to drop the proverbial rubber band, so to leave the church would be to lose my ability to speak toward the center of ecclesial power. At present, I remain a loyal but frustrated expatriate who remains in the confines of the Catholic church in the hopes of exercising my right to speak with reverence to the sacred pastors. To these and to my fellow Catholics, I wish to share my observations and speak from my deeply-held beliefs by pointing out how I sense the Holy Spirit both desiring and manifesting a restored balance in the church.
When I began my master's program for pastoral studies at the Aquinas Institute of Theology in January of 2006, I was given an opportunity in my Introduction to Theology class to choose a current topic to study and to engage it earnestly with all academic rigor. With regards to the questions surrounding the non-ordination of women that recent popes affirmed, reaffirmed and repeatedly reaffirmed, I still held fast to the church's position even as this matter was no longer considered a licit question for discussion within the church! I dove in, read various opposing theological pro/con arguments and studied the papal letters such as Pope Paul VI's 1976 papal encyclical Inter Insigniores and Pope John Paul II's 1994 ecclesiastical letter Ordinatio Sacerdotalis. Upon completion of my paper, I began to see and marvel at the sacred gymnastics one must perform in order to maintain these positions, especially at the beginning of the third millennium. I found that I could no longer attempt to do so. How is it then that I lost my desire to ascent to the church's teachings?
Beyond my academic turnabout from having studied these archaic structures of how the church understands itself were a myriad of encounters with women whom I studied alongside. These were young mothers, religious sisters, retired or retooling souls entering into theology from a previous career path and other competent women in various church ministries and the like. As I listened to their preaching at mid-day prayer, read their academic papers, worked along side them in study groups and experienced the blazing charisma of how delightfully their vocational abilities were unfolding and blossoming, I knew I could never un-hear, un-see nor un-feel any of those moments, nor did I want to! All the while, I was working in my home parish where men shouldered the weight of right worship. Although seeing women distribute the Eucharist and read the prayer intercessions and non-gospel readings, it began to be more and more evident in my heart that the Catholic church was suffering severe atrophy due to the impoverishment of only breathing with one lung.
Heavens, how do I proceed from here? To keep me from losing balance when entering into controversial or culturally complex topics, I find myself returning to and embracing one of the 8-core principles that Richard Rohr's community at the Center for Action and Contemplation live by: "The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better: Oppositional energy only brings more of the same." So rather than ranting, which no one wants or benefits from, I will instead strive to witness to the better by envisioning a time when the church does breathe with both lungs (conspiratio) and slowly rises to its full stature before assuming the dignity and powerful capabilities that world is crying out for. This topic is WAY-too huge and important to contain in a moderately sized blog so I'll leave this here having stated the issue.
I wonder if the difficulty women face in the Catholic Church is really all that different from what professional women in many other fields face. I know women in law and medicine exposed to male superiority every day. How can we walk the tightrope of challenging a system that we so desire to remain in? For a female attorney to challenge a judge is professional suicide. For a female preacher to challenge the system can be the same. Not only does one risk the censorship of the local ordinary, but equally as important one risks her credibility among the people of God who are not yet at that point of acceptance.
ReplyDeleteWhen I first began my doctoral studies, there was a man in the group who very honestly informed me that he would not be able to take preaching criticism from a woman. It was not always easy, but I decided to accept him where he was, appreciate his honesty, while staying true to who I was. We came from very different theological perspectives and we shared those perspectives in our class discussions. Ultimately, we came to value and respect each other and, dare I say, he came to value my feedback. As the only woman in the cohort, I felt a great responsibility to use my voice not only for myself but for all the women who might follow in my footsteps. Had I left the cohort, I would have missed my opportunity to open his mind and heart as well as those of the others.
Still, the question remains, how does one use one’s prophetic voice compassionately, especially when one feels compelled to speak a word that challenges the status quo? How does one use her/his voice to move the people of God toward broader thinking? If we are going to move the Church beyond where we are today, toward a conspiratio Church where both lungs are energizing the Church, a question to consider is how do we do so in such a way that we bring the people along with us? How might we change hearts so as to change systems? I’m guessing the answer to these questions are as diverse as the people through whom the Spirit is working.
I was struck by your words that you “could never un-hear, un-see nor un-feel” the moments you experienced in women’s voices at Aquinas. I immediately thought of the disciples on the Road to Emmaus. Your heart burned within you when those women opened the Word of God. As I preached to my preaching group of women and men, most of which would describe themselves as conservative John Paul II Catholics, I could see and feel their hearts burning within them. Many, on their own, came to question why women could not preach from the pulpit. I did not use my voice to ‘diss’ the Church, I did not argue that women should be preachers, I simply used my voice to preach the gospel that I prayerfully felt compelled to preach in the venue available to me. I got myself out of the way, trusting that the Spirit would speak through me and touch the hearts of those present. For me, that always means contemplation first and action second.
I do not know how we, as professional men and women in the Catholic Church, can move the powers that be to sit up and take notice. I think that open-minded women and men, such as yourself, who use their authentic voice to question and proclaim that which the Spirit puts inside them to question and proclaim, not with self-righteous anger or finger-pointing judgementalism, but with a true openness to the Spirit, will leave many hearts burning within them. And slowly, ever so slowly, the other lung will expand as each of us responds in our own way, using our breath to contribute to the life of the body. I admire the way you do this now, Dan. You seek first to understand. You pose questions that churn in our human spirits, demanding to be answered. You challenge but in a compassionate way. You accept people where they are while offering us a question that stretches us.
Staying in the game allows me the opportunity to do it in a way that is life-giving for me, and I hope for others. For some, though, leaving the game is necessary for their mental and spiritual health.
Ah! Here is one of my sisters with whom I encountered during my days at the Aquinas Institute. Karen, your response has reminded me of the horizontal nature of this matter; that I must always remind mindful of how we travel together as a wider Catholic community during our time upon the earth. Being linked as humans, I cannot pull too hard lest I injure someone not traveling quite as briskly as I'd like. Also, your point about actually manifesting your abilities for good preaching, writing and acting will in fact change hearts but one fellow Aquinas graduate recently wrote, "my concern is that all these wonderful women preachers & writers are not heard in the pews. They are heard in academia, but not in the trenches. Down here is a desert." I acknowledge with deep gladness how you have been tenacious in your pursuit of obtaining your doctorate in preaching and will change many hearts who witness your vocation up close. The reality though is that the church is not similar to a business or government, where women still struggle to live into their authentic leadership capabilities, because the church leadership will not even acknowledge that you or other women could possibly have a vocation for ordination. It is my observation that this doctrinal certitude on the part of our sacred pastors has real effect and it is not just impoverishing the church but adding to her demise. First, there are women like my friend above who also applied herself in her studies and is found languishing in the desert of non-admittance. We have a common friend whom I will not mention now but I know that she SHINED in her studies at Aquinas and exhibited such spiritual acumen in terms of pastoral leadership. I've listened to her experiences of how the church has assigned newly ordained priests whose propensity to uphold traditional church relationships causes them to act dismissive and thus in a real sense, nullify the potential of women who serve in the church. The power differential plainly makes this a grievous and unjust reality that won’t soon change. Second, there are the people in the pew whose many experiences of seeing the potential of women becoming realized will change perceptions amongst the laity. They've heard eloquent speaking from female leaders like Angela Merkel in Germany. They've seen the charisma and savvy of someone like Michelle Obama whose dynamism animates others. They've actually worked for and alongside women in leadership and find them capable and inspiring. Then they go to mass and are reminded that the rules are different. Reflecting more on your response, I find myself struggling to find a balance between showing support to our current leaders in order to strengthen the unity of the church while at the same time being true to the convictions that are rising in my heart that compel me to speak out. Thank you for your response Karen. I will hold your reality in my heart in the hopes that someday you’ll be given the honor and respect that you deserve as a faithful daughter to the church.
DeleteThere is no doubt that there is a power differential in our Church and you are right that the church is different business or government in that women in the Church do not even have the possibility of an equal leadership role. I especially appreciate your point that we in the pews are seeing dynamic and capable women leading in intelligent and, I would argue more relational ways than most men in all other aspects of societal life. Why not the church? It does appear that we are stuck in the Middle Ages, and whatever movement is occuring is slow indeed. Jesus was a visionary. And I find myself challenged to find ways that I can continue the visionary and out-of-the box thinking and acting that Jesus displayed, kindly and compassionately, in the face of rigidity? How can I be as authentic as Jesus was authentic? How can I express my anger and frustration at injustice in a merciful and compassionate way? Certainly Jesus challenged the system and died because of his challenge.
DeleteThere is no question that it is hard to be a professional woman in the church today. I think it comes down to each of us finding our voice, what it is inside of us that we are compelled to speak, and then speak it. That is the hardest part for me - discovering it, speaking it, and then acting authentically. I hear your struggle and the struggle of so many in our church today. I think of the gifts of the Spirit, to each has been given a gift for the good of the whole church. I believe I know the mutual friend of whom you are speaking and know her struggles. Such situations make me so very sad. It is such a loss for the people of God when people like her, and like Beth below, and so many other women are unable to fully share their gifts with the church.
Some big questions I ponder is can I call out a wrong and still stay in the community? For me that depends on whether the community is more life-giving or live-draining? Might a different community, one in which my voice might be more welcome, the answer? I do think that these are questions each of us must answer for ourselves. As a member of the retreat team for a Catholic Retreat House, I have found a way to stay in the community and preach the gospel. I am hopeful other opportunities will present themselves once I finish my degree. But that is just me. For others, it will be different.
Finally, none of this answers what I see as your biggest question, and that is 'does our model of church even work anymore?' And the answers to that question seem to depend on who is answering it. People passionately speak to both sides of that issue! How, then, do we all come together in pursuit of our church's mission to preach the gospel at all times? How do we best respond to that commission, as an individual and as a church? These are big questions! You pose them well.
Thanks for this Dan! So much good stuff here , but I’ll try to stay focused on just your main image: the desire for the church to breathe with two lungs. Such a powerful image! If I remember correctly, it was first used by ecumenical theologians to describe the relationship between Latin and Eastern rite Catholic Churches. Back in the last millennium when I was a student at New College Divinity Faculty at Edinburgh one of my Dominican brothers, a great scholar of Wittgenstein named Fergus Kerr, gave a lunchtime lecture on why the church would never ordain women. Among his points was this: JPII was pope and had turned the church to the East. Rather than seeking unity with the western reformed tradition churches, which had been the vision of so many Italian popes JPII, coming from Eastern Europe, had his eyes on renewing communion with the east. Because, Fergus said, the eastern church would never accept the ordination of women, reunification with the eastern church was conditioned on the refusal of the Latin right church to ordain women. Not knowing any better at the time, I found this to be the firmest foundation of all Fergus’ arguments, the rest of which I promptly forgot. Fast forward about ten years and now my life has become thoroughly intertwined with Eastern Catholicism. I learned, lived, and breathed with the Syriac Catholic Church for many years, worshipping with the community, learning from my Iraqi Dominican sisters and brothers, and catechizing children in a Syriac parish in the Detroit suburbs. What I intuited more than studied was that the Eastern Catholic ecclesiastical imagination is infused with feminine and marital imagery. So one night, I had the most marvelous discussion with one of my Iraqi Dominican brothers who is now a Chaldean bishop in a very important see in Iraq. He made some offhanded comment about the non-ordination of women. So, then and there, I outlined for him everything I was learning by worshiping within the eastern Catholic church about the feminine images used for God, including that when the priest is ordained the imagery is that the bishop gives birth to the priest, the chasuble a priest wears is literally a little house, in other words the priest makes of his body a woman’s body in order to “confect” the Eucharist, That when a bishop is ordained, he is carried into the church on a throne, completely covered in a veil, as if he was a bride going to be married to her husband. So, in other words, I said to my Dominican brother, it would seem to be as logical to only ordain women who have born children as it does to ordain only celibate men. “You are correct” he said to me. “It will still never happen.” The upshot of this tale is that you chose exactly the right image: the church needs both lungs and one of them is feminine. It not only will happen, it has to happen if Gods body is to be whole. Holding the tension is hard, yes. The only thing more devastating, for me at least, is refusing to hold it and severing one of my lungs. It’s hard to breathe either way, isn’t it? Knowing you and other men like you are there in the conspiracy to make our church whole makes all the difference. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteI greatly appreciate your response to my blog post. It seems to me that the Catholic church refraining from the ordination of women as a sort of carrot to woo our Orthodox brothers and sisters towards reunification is a sad and unjust reason to justify our two-tiered treatment of women. For your Dominican brother, now Chaldean bishop to matter-of-factly acknowledge that women's ordination will never happen is to me the height of ecclesial intransigence. I do not mean him any disrespect as he is simply speaking pragmatically here. This stance by the church reminds me of a scene in a movie where a family is at the dinner table with the adult children talking about how the Father treats their mother. When the conversation heats up, the father pounds his fist on the table and says, "Enough! This conversation is over." I admittedly, openly and honestly am struggling with this response by the sacred pastors who cling to doctrines that were forged by men to maintain male dominance. For years I placated my own anguished inner voice saying, "Yeah, that's just the way it is. Do what they tell you and strive to assent to the truths of the church as stated in the CCC." What happens to our church if we remain silent? Are we willing to watch our beloved church hemorage more and more of her members? To remain silent any more feels dishonest; leaving me to remain ambivalent about the health of the body of Christ on earth.
DeleteDear Dan, I hope you will be able to receive this critique in the spirit in which it is offered, that being the spirit of fraternal love and desire for dialogue, which I believe is the spirit of your original post. The very categories in which you frame the issue, however, lead me to despair of real dialogue among those who hold the two sides of the question. Your understanding of what is just and what equality of male and female mean have led you to believe that women should be admitted to Holy Orders. Your arguments and those of previous commentators seem to suggest that contemporary psychological, emotional, and socio-political currents should be the primary criteria by which the doctrine of the church should be judged and interpreted. The church, however, always starts from a received Tradition, something that has been handed down to us, and any insights coming from the areas mentioned must be judged by that tradition, not the other way around. While psychology, sociology, history, etc. can help us better understand and proclaim the Tradition, they do not have authority over it.
ReplyDeleteThe question then becomes is there a way in which the ordination of women to the priesthood can be seen to be in continuity with the Tradition or is it incompatible with it? The firm conclusion of the teaching authority in the church and many scholars is that it is not. The best and most complete exposition of that conclusion is laid out by Sr. Sara Butler, MSBT, whom I had the pleasure of meeting and learning from at Mundelein Seminary, in her book, The Catholic Priesthood and Women: a Guide to the Teaching of the Church. I recommend this book highly. It bears no trace of “sacred gymnastics” if one is truly willing to have ones’ social and political preconceptions challenged. In short, her research leads her to the conclusion that the magisterium is correct in saying that the church is not free to ordain women because Christ was free to do so and did not. She also points out that arguments in favor of it are based on misunderstandings of baptism, justice, and power in the church. I fully acknowledge that the church has not always respected the human dignity of women nor properly valued their contributions and competence. We are making progress. But as important as a proper concern for the dignity of all persons is, a more fundamental question must be asked first: Are we going to be formed by God’s revelation in Tradition or are we going to be formed by the spirit of the age?
Thank you Fr. Scott for offering this critique of my position which I do welcome and appreciate. I wanted to reflect upon your response and that of some others on this blog along with some who elected to share in privacy. I see the dichotomy which you've made between Sacred Tradition and the contemporary currents you noted as problematic. Even the modern seminary that forms today's ministerial candidates for the priesthood rightly incorporate psychological and sociological influences that you've identified, which serves the church well. As such, I don't think they're necessarily opposed just as faith and science can and should abide together as traveling companions even as they maintain good and proper boundaries.
ReplyDeleteI surely do recall wrestling with Sara Butler's positions when I was studying this issue back in graduate school. I also recall studying those who made compelling arguments to the contrary, but what matters here is a simple truth I've come to realize: I dissent. Such a stance has rarely ever been received well but it has often helped the church to grow. For instance, in the 1950's Fr. Father John Courtney Murray, a Jesuit theologian, voiced his grave concerns that it is no longer feasible for the church to assume that all world states would recognize the authority of the Catholic Church as had been the firm position of the church. In response, the church came down hard on him including Cardinal Alberto Ottaviani, the head of the Congregation of the Holy Office and Pope Pius XII. In the end, the church allowed the newer assertion voiced by Murray to remain. You can read the fuller story at http://www.uscatholic.org/church/2008/07/catholic-dissent-when-wrong-turns-out-be-right.
It is my pledge as one holding dissent to do so as faithfully as I can to what the church asks of me, even as she respects the reality of how I hold to my conscience. This is not a freedom I take lightly and love for the church compels me to speak out even though some will see me as the unfaithful son. As I continue to write more about this, I sincerely welcome any criticisms you might offer.