Leshem Shamayim: “For the sake of heaven.”

I was speaking with my friend at the library right at closing time about a sermon she was working on with regards to the Annunciation; a postcolonial approach to the text—without any outside research, what came to her when she brought her whole self to the text. What struck her, and what she shared with me was something rather profound, off of which I am planning to write further; the virginity of Mary is not the component which allowed her to be pure enough to bear Jesus, not some immaculate conception…. Nothing to do with Mary. The emphasis, she redirected, is on God. It was the Lukian text she focused on, a brief and beautiful little story:

“In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary.
He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, you who enjoy God’s favour! The Lord is with you.’
She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Look! You are to conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’
Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I have no knowledge of man?’
The angel answered, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God.
And I tell you this too: your cousin Elizabeth also, in her old age, has conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’
Mary said, ‘You see before you the Lord’s servant, let it happen to me as you have said.’ And the angel left her.” (Luke 1.26-38, NJB)

My friend is Catholic, at a Catholic seminary, Mdiv, but had a great critique of the theology implied often out this Annunciation text. She said the “How” question Mary asks, “How can this be” was similar to the statements of all other people in sheer wonder (not necessarily doubt or disbelief) before God showed up: Moses to God- How, and miracles start happening in front of the burning bush; etc. After recalling a few more scenarios of the how-then-theophany, my friend refocused the conversation to the Marian scenario: she asked two questions, how? virginity? Gabriel doesn’t even touch on the virginity when answering the how: “’The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow” The Holy Spirit, then the power of God, as if they are two things… this was her first recognition as the Holy Spirit being feminine. It is the holy Spirit coming upon Mary, “overshadowing” is used in some translations, coming upon… as if it is the womb of the Spirit conceived Christ, impregnated by the power of God. To talk about the maleness and femaleness of the different members of the Godhead (identifying Christ as the male, HS as the female), my friend jumped to the beginning.

Jumping back to Genesis 3:26 and 27, my friend picked up on the three fold creation of humanity by God: man in the image of God, female also in the image of God, and male and female together:“ God said, ‘Let us make man in our own image, in the likeness of ourselves, and let them be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of heaven, the cattle, all the wild animals and all the creatures that creep along the ground.’ God created man in the image of himself, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them.” My friend read this and said, here we have the male of God creating man (something like Christ-figure creating this?), into which the Spirit needed to breath in life. But consider of the creation of the woman from the same flesh as man so they would be of the same type of being… but not at the same time so the man would not count her an animal, but realize a need for her. When Eve is made (thought about writing Eve factus est because that just sounds so cool), we have the flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone dialog from Adam, but no description of Spirit breathing in. Why? My friend suggested, maybe it was the Spirit member of God, the feminine, which made woman. Word- male, Breath/Spirit- female? The two together are also one, a different kind of image of God. The creation of the three beings my friend pointed to as an image of the trinity: male= Christ; female= Spirit; man-and-female= the undefinable ‘father’. Fascinating.

Seeing this understanding of creation, which is an interesting proposal at its very least, what about the making of Christ on earth? Returning to the earlier interpretation of the Holy Spirit being separate from the power of God in its coming-upon Mary, this is just another manifestation of the Trinity, yes, in the embodiment of Jesus? Spirit using the flesh of woman rather than man (as some theologian, perhaps Aquinas even, suggested balanced out the first creation out of man’s flesh) made the means of Jesus’ earthly making possible; then the masculine power of God came and fertilized Jesus. Tying the discussion to my interest of the women’s ordination issue, my friend wondered whether the priestly office might be made for man and woman, since both are in the image of God, and according to the catechism, the people are representing God in the eucharist and the priest is merely the chosen representative of this role. Male or female matters because God is male or female? God holds both, and even the communion of both in the assemblage of Church gives us that third person, imaged in the man-and-woman union. If the priest is supposed to solely stand in the person of Christ, then there can be no argument made for women’s ordination.

One more story about the spiritual birthing by Spirit; John 3.1-8:
“There was one of the Pharisees called Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus by night and said, ‘Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.’
Jesus answered: In all truth I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.
Nicodemus said, ‘How can anyone who is already old be born? Is it possible to go back into the womb again and be born?’
Jesus replied: In all truth I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit; what is born of human nature is human; what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be surprised when I say: You must be born from above. The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

My friend referenced the section of this passage where Jesus says, “no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit”… saying this was another indication of the femininity of the Holy Spirit, because before the child draws its first breath upon exiting its mother, water issues forth. I love this verse from the hymn, “The Church’s One Foundation”: “The Church’s one foundation, is Jesus Christ her Lord. She is His New creation by water and the Word. From heav’n He came and sought her to be His holy Bride. With His own blood He bought her, and for her life He died.”

Thoughts?

Catherine A. Brekus. Strangers and Pilgrims: Female Preaching in America, 1740-1845. (Gender and American Culture.) Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 1998. Pp. x, 466. Cloth $49.95, paper $17.95.

Spinning an intricate thread with which to follow the path of rediscovering the stories of evangelical female preachers who influenced the first and second Great Awakening up until the pre-Civil War revivals, Catherine Brekus in Strangers and Pilgrims: Female Preaching in America, 1740-1845 considers women of varying class and race. Recovering the significant impacts of these women on their evangelical churches in a moving towards recognized denominations, Brekus relies upon primary sources including letters, journals and memoirs along with published reports of camp meetings, religious periodicals, pamphlets and books printed by the women themselves, in parish records or the writings of a male preachers, along with a vast collection of secondary sources. As if restoring a disintegrated work of art, Brekus paints a picture of female religious leadership, which neither conforms to the silent, submissive stereotypes of eighteenth and nineteenth century women, nor the radical social activist positions of early feminists, “platform speakers,” who advocated not only women’s suffrage and reproductive rights, but also the abolition of slavery.
Though a detailed historical work, Strangers and Pilgrims is a useful resource not only for scholars, but clergy and lay people interested in discovering not only the general themes of female evangelists but also the specific struggles women like Harriet Livermore faced. Viewing the King James Bible as the literal Word of God, female evangelists struggled to fulfill their unpaid call to preaching financially by selling handiwork, tracts and books, relying on charity, or relying on the salaries of their husbands. In spite of all the controversy surrounding these women who traversed social expectations of women’s silence in public and religious spheres, most of the female evangelists tended to endorse conservative political position. It is this middle position between traditionalism and radical thinking that Brekus notes is representative of “the same values as countless numbers of anonymous women who sat in church pews every Sunday.” (7)
Drawing out a more realistic picture of women’s lives than the commonly assumed repression of women, Brekus depicts ordinary women who fervent spiritual concerns did not even broach the realm of religious power politics: these female evangelists did not clamor for rights to baptism or ordination, claiming equality with men through scriptural revelation rather than biological nature. Embracing supportive roles, this group of women who “were the first to speak publicly in America” (6) prioritized their preaching calls beneath faith in scriptural revelation. Despite their willingness to accept secondary roles in leadership, female evangelists attracted droves of converts by their condemnations of sin, which thundered as powerfully as any male preacher in spite of a lack of education. In spite of their budding leadership, Brekus notes that within a decade of the genesis of female evangelists, evangelical churches began to more rigidly distinguish the boundaries of “masculine” and “feminine” as the desire to be recognized as denominations increased.
These degenerating egalitarian and populist ideals of evangelical churches led to an emphasis on the importance of a salvation experience over and above distinctions of race, class, and gender. “In many ways,” Brekus observes, “the presence of large numbers of white and black women in the pulpit seems to offer evidence of the democratization of American Christianity.” (11) Finding the evangelical scenario after the Great Awakening to be paradoxical, Brekus discussed the contradictions in celebrating freedom, and instituting governance for those freedoms. In spite of allowing women to preach, women remained “strangers and pilgrims, outsiders in an evangelical culture that reserved its greatest public honors for men alone.” (13) Rhetorical separation of public and private spheres may have influence women’s self-perceptions, but not their actual affect on the shaping of culture. Relating the struggles of the female evangelists in the past to current issues of women’s religious leadership, Berkus provides an example of past societal failures to recognize women, challenging congregations today with the ominous threat of repeating a history of forgetting female contributions.

Hannah M. Mecaskey
Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology

Considering some of the issues my sociology of religion professor and I were discussing last night about Max Weber’s opinion of religion, the book I am currently reading about the 1975 Women’s Ordination Conference for Roman Catholic Women in Detroit has some interesting things in mind to bear. Many times while reading through the issues, I have been frustrated with the repetitiveness of certain arguments; so I am reading lighter and making a point of looking for difference. Looking at the discussion of some of these early conferences as I research the Roman Catholic Women Priest movement (RCWP), there is a lot of anti-political discussion, talk about the rally for women’s ordination as a movement beyond power politics. Has the priesthood become about control, like some of the authors are claiming?

In her contribution in chapter 3, The Proper Place for Women in the Church, Elizabeth R. Carroll (R.S.M) laments the power politic of the priestly office today: “It is unfortunately true that, thought not all priests have power, yet priesthood is the one door to power in the Church.”(21) If one considers the claim made by this Catholic feminist movement, it could be seen as a reformative call to the institution as a whole. The presenters at this conference in particular seemed concerned not just with the place of women in the Church, but liberation of the Body as a whole from a concern and preoccupation with power. Carroll notes that she perceives women’s participation if Church not to be  one which questions “that system of priestly relationships which leaves meant young ordained feeling as oppressed as women do” (21)but rather reforming the system itself. Women would bring a fresh perspective to the priesthood, not making the same mistakes as men, but bringing a different mode of priestly activity.

Returning to Weber’s opinion on religion, he defines it as the institutionalization of the charism of a particular leader whose visionary, revolutionary, prophetic and moral leadership challenged the established structures of religion and government to reform. Weber views this institutionalization as a fundamental change in the practice of the leader’s charism; a solidification of what was once malleable and versatile. This founding of specific rules and principles that the founder preached moves away from the founder’s intention to a more dogmatic style of belief, concerned more with rules it has created to attempt to preserve the charism than the actual charism itself. In essence, Weber beliefs the institutionalization to be a repetition of past rather than a continual movement forward. He says that priests belong to ritualized repetitions rooted in the past rather than the prophets who began the charismatic movements. With this in mind, I enjoyed the following chapter 4 by Carroll Stuhlmueller, C.P., “Women’s Place: A Biblical View.”

Stuhlmueller understands women’s role in church leadership and priesthood is chiefly found in the hermeneutical issue of reinterpreting “always in continuity with the past, of course, and always with responsibility toward future generations. Continuity with the past offers security for the present moment; responsibility toward the future forces us to challenge the present that it may be a purer world for the unborn.” (25-6) I am fascinated by the multiplicity of perspectives the promoters of women’s ordination have (I must flesh these out before analyzing the side against); while some seem to turn the issue into something of power, others perceive the movement to be a reformation of the Church.“Priesthood must be reinterpreted within toward’s pastoral expectations. Usually, it is a prophet outside the organization who intuits new directions,”  Stuhlmueller claims. (26) Women calling for priesthood as prophets, or women as prophets to men in general regarding ecclesial matters? Interesting. As I recall, a prophet wasn’t the ideal messenger from God, meant for the wayward, disobedient people…

But Stuhlmueller is asking questions, not proposing answers: the way to go… dialogs:“Is now the time for women to make their move from prophetical position, in ministerial activity but outside the ‘priestly’—that is ‘hierarchical organization, or  is it better for women to acquire more pastoral experience first?” (27) Is it a grade now, move from prophet to priest an upping in rank? Lots of interesting questions, especially regarding intimate connection between sacramental action and eucharist: “If the Roman Catholic Church continues t restrict priesthood to celibate male Christians, then pastoral activity—like teaching, preaching, healing, counseling, reaffirming in its forgiveness of God’s love, inspirational leadership at prayer—will become more and more noneucharistic, and therefore more and more in accord with Protestant styles of piety.” (28) correlating note between disintegration of Eucharistic piety and “the charism of unity in the Church.” (28)?

So is there a reformational aspect needed within the organization of the Roman Catholic Church? It seems the womanpriest movement says yes; but perhaps the perception of power amongst the hierarchy needs to change“is the ministerial role of women today to be prophetical and outside of priestly structure; priestly within the hierarchical organization; or a combination of priest-prophet in order to maintain for today the Eucharistic tradition of the Roman Catholic Church?” (29) Carroll adds an additional critique as well: “If nonordained women and men are to share intimately and responsibly in the decision making of the Church, they may free the ordained to be channels of the Gospel message of love and reconciliation and unity not apart from, but with the rest of, the people of God. The clericism that has been entrenched in the Church since its adaptation into the structures of the Roman Empire has promoted a situation where all too easily the Church is though of as existing for the clergy, for the hierarchy. Imagine the purification possible if only the priesthood could be disengaged from power!” (22)

What kind of Body did Jesus intend to leave behind amongst His people here?

Life in her cycles, back and forth up and down, for the seeker can be a transitional labyrinth of excitement, commitment, and reconsideration. Permanent ties are made, relationships are considered for their permanence, and connections once considered as commitments get reevaluated. In this Lenten season, such is the path walked by one pilgrim, through the tempestuous seas of theology, blown by the winds of doctrine, to consider again a marriage proposal made so many years ago it has been deemed fundamental to this pilgrim’s operative framework for life. Assuming the greater depth of beliefs twice and three times worked over, the surface has become trivialized after too long in-depth excavation process, overturning previous conclusions. Having dedicatedly pursued a path of membership in the religious community known in the body of Christ as the Catholic Church, this pilgrim feels awoken as if from a deeply alluring trance.

Having congnescently entered the wrestling match with Catholic doctrine, dogma, liturgy, and practice, community was the final strand which would tie the knot of commitment in the acts of initiation which have been diligently enacted since September of 2008. What a journey, this pilgrim’s searching for some vagrant esse of church in various traditions and communities; deciding that while important, the particular tradition remained secondary to the community itself. A search for church, considerations of different communal ‘marriages’ via membership within denominational congregations such as Baptist, Presbyterian, and Catholic. At each point of scrutiny, when heartily desiring the finitude of the ‘marriage’ in order to continue life in the community and progress to new levels of closeness in the body of Christ with individual members, some factor has broken down. Perhaps doctrinal, perhaps a mode of practicing a popular aspect of the religion, some disenchantment ushered reality into the marriage scrutiny: this denominational candidate was not, in its fullness Christ.

At the risk of diminishing the people of God’s manifestation of Christ’s body, the pilgrim in search of some universal unity amongst these denominations concluded long ago that one part of His Body is not the entirety. To accept a particular church above any other, in this particular case, the church named ‘Catholic,’ would be to confess an undeserved ‘truth’: that in some regard, the Catholic Church possess the fullness of truth and this elusive esse of church. As a prominent physical example of church universal, the Catholic Church drew mightily in its embodied balanced state on the heart of this pilgrim. Her history, her liturgy, her social ethic, her organization, all alluring to membership. While running full throttle to this manifestation of church with a desire to grasp an ecclesial esse which defines the work of Christ on earth, Catholic proved to be a more complex spiritual spouse than the pilgrim felt able to offer for a portion of the body of Christ. Why not have all of Jesus?

Understanding church as a phenomenon beyond the humanly-defined constraints of membership, the pilgrim recognized all who claimed Christ Jesus, the God-Man living and dying as man, resurrecting to offer hope of a future. Such a broad love for church could not be committed to the trust of just one community. Moving through the world, a collection of church denominations committed to obedient love of God, the pilgrim has decided to alight on the perch of community in conjunction with the direction of life, as well as intentional community formed through deep, Jesus-centered and Spirit-motivated relationships of edification and challenge.

And thus, the journey for church continues…

Here I sit, fallen beneath the crushing weight in my heart…
my son, my firstborn, tortured, murdered as a criminal,
blood and deformed, now resting in my lap as my heart too is pierced.
what did you try and achieve me son?
you were so good, yet too close to the line.
I feared every day you might be killed,
I saw the gaze of our leaders, I feared for you to God.
And now, what does the preaching matter, it only angered them.
what were you trying to achieve, trying to prove?
We knew from the beginning you were good, you always gave.
you put a mother to shame as I tried my best to care for you-\
I was so young when you were born, so much a child myself.
I had no quest to run on, nothing to prove, except obedience to my God.
And my obedience, where has it brought me but to the hill of murder and desolation, carrying my Issac,
where Yhwh did not provide a lamb, but drew His ruah from my son.
I tremble as I touch you, my darling little boy,
Your face still creased with deep lines of anguish.
I have little time to hold you, the Sabbath is rushing upon us,
and they take you from my arms, bind you with strips of cloth,
and hide you away in a cold, dark tomb…
this stone prohibits me from my mourning–
my heart has been stopped up to, and like an empty shell
I turn away with the other women, my god, my god, what have we done to you.
So much I didn’t understand when you teached, I imagined you were immortal,
You could lead our people to freedom, that Yhwh would not let you die.
Now we must hide away from fear that they will seek those who loved you too.

I’ve stopped doing my faith and become fixated on the thinking it out.
It’s so worthless, digesting ideas does not nourish the soul unless they are encountered in substantial context.
It leaves the contemplation weak and desolate. How distracted, the working out of life.
It’s all about the loving, yet I don’t know what that means.
Perhaps that’s because I’ve stopped actively running after it.
The seeking after meaning drive doesn’t stop when I do; the path changes subtly.
From moving out of self to drowning in self—
Jesus, what does it mean to love? Words communicate little and much
Offer deep comfort or spout meaningless facts that impact nothing other than egotistical intellect.
My God, my God, how have I forgotten you.
Once boiling and swelling with a vibrant passion, energized beyond belief,
What has solidified and settled into this mass of stone, this pillar of salt?
Here am I, a woman become the preservatives in which I packed my heart,
Drowned in sorrow until the residue of my tears was all that was left behind.
It was because my center escaped me by my fault, my own distraction.
You gave me focus, and I ran away from you with it—
The detail of a needle’s head seduced me into an endless expanse.
O Theologia, how we have created you, to satisfy our every needs;
O my Jesus, how we used to love You, now creating You in our images by words…
We lose the heart of the God-Man come to woo us.
We forgot Your passion, I replaced Your wedding band on my heart.
Meaningless, meaningless, cries the teacher, all your reasoning is meaningless—
For you have forgotten that to love God is to obey Him;
To love God is to love one another.
Distinction by love? We devolved to strife and hate long ago…
Both outside ourselves and narcissistically within, dualism, believing we were too unworthy.
And we are, but not anymore because He has chosen and we have been freed,
To go out into all the world and love men like Jesus into the warmth of His heart.
So what’s with our attraction to the shiny fetters and chains?

Here I sit, dizzy and unaware, unsure of why there is so much blood,
Such a heavy weight resting on me;
It is a body.
His hands are bloodier than mine, skin torn again and again
By the multiple piercings of many nails,
Back shredded to a pulp under the heavy hand of a whip.
Why is this body on me, where is the cross is was fastened to?
Remembering who, remembering where I come to my senses:
This is the Lover, the one we all sought, the one I have killed.
His blood is on me, I have made His wounds, I caused His pain.
In my spite of a momentary fury, I destroyed the dreams, so I think.
What have I done to you, Jesus?
I cannot bear my own guilt, and darkness overcomes me.
When I awake only the bloody imprint on my robes remains,
He has gone, my loveless heart could not constrain Him.
If I relinquish the death, He stands ready to give me the life I keep throwing aside.
Can I bear to part with the guilt, in exchange for joy?

The question of women’s ordination in the Roman Catholic Church is a volatile question for any Catholic feminist, and one that opposes a definitive position the magisterial teaching of the Vatican has chosen to stand upon. Examining the Catholic magisterial teaching against the ordination of women from the perspective of feminist theologian John Wijngaards, I will seek to probe the question, “Why shouldn’t women be ordained,” questioning the ethical stance of the Church denying women ordination, through the works of Mary Daly (Gyn/Ecology), Carol Gilligan (In A Different Voice), and Beverly Harrsion (Justice in the Making). Noting the feminist ethic to equate notions of equality and justice with treatment as sameness between the sexes, for example, not preferring one to a position of ordination above the other, feminist theorists critique the ethic of differentiation within Catholic theology that appears to hierarchically order the value of men above women. Describing how Daly’s Sado-Ritual syndrome, Gilligan’s treatment of an alternative method of moral development, and Harrison’s discussion of justice coming from relationship and the idea of mutuality in human communion, I will contrast the results of each feminist perspective to the question of women’s ordination and propose a synthesis of critiques to the Catholic Church’s doctrinal positional against the ordination of women.

Examining the feminist understanding of the Vatican’s reasons why women cannot be ordained, one finds arguments against based on two Apostolic statements: Inter Insigniores issued by the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith under Pope Paul VI in October 15, 1976 and Ordinatio Sacerdotalis by Pope John Paul II on May 22, 1994. In these two documents, two theological arguments are employed to refute the ability of the Catholic Church to ordain women: the “Iconic argument” and the “argument from authority.” Laying the groundwork for feminist critique in these two arguments, I will attempt to present how proponents of women’s ordination perceive the Vatican’s arguments before addressing the specific ways Daly, Gilligan, and Harrison would respond to the same question of why women cannot be ordained.

The iconic argument is based on the embodied person of the Christ, Jesus, who came down to earth in the biological sex of a man. Pope John Paul II described the ministerial Priest as “the sacramental representation of Christ the Head and Shepherd,”  This is to say that the priest is an icon of Christ the Priest that is divinely written by the Holy Spirit (cf. Catechism 1142). “Chosen and consecrated by the sacrament of Holy Orders, by which the Holy Spirit enables them to act in the person of Christ the head,”  priests serve their community as an “icon,” a physical representation of the priesthood of Christ. Presiding at the Eucharist is noted as the chief means through which the priest “icons” Christ “because the priest is the minister of Christ’s Sacrifice and of His mercy, the priest is indissolubly bound up with the two sacraments of the Eucharist and Reconciliation.”  Unable to act in persons Christi because of her gender, the Vatican rules that a woman is incapable of fulfilling the icon of Bridegroom expressed in the Bridal imagery used regarding Church’s salvific marriage to Christ. If the Church is the bride of Christ, the Vatican reasons, is it not fitting that ministerial priests should be male so as to symbolize this reality?

The second argument presented against the ordination of women to the ministerial priesthood is based on a historical theological argument from authority. Based on tradition, reason, and scripture the Catholic Magisterium states that it does not have the authority to ordain women to ministerial priesthood. Asserting that the priesthood was instituted at the last supper, the Magisterium prohibits women from priesthood for two reasons: The Apostles were exclusively male, and the Church must perpetuate Christ’s example in ordination. The Vatican also rests its claim that women cannot be ordained on the fact that the New Testament provides no guidance for the ordination of women. Citing this as lack of historical precedent, the Vatican also references the fact that Patristic statements indicate that women should not be ordained as evidence against its authority to ordain women.

Mary Daly’s Pattern of Sado-Ritual Syndrome as Misogynistic Dominance of Women:

The Sado-Ritual syndrome pattern demonstrates one of the misogynistic male contrivances Daly accuses male society of having dominated women with. This system is one the means, Daly claims, that male society has erased its involvement in the oppression of women and often successfully shifted the blame from male oppressive agents to female, creating a construct of misogyny of women. In Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism, Daly would apply the seven elements of Sado-Ritual syndrome to discount the Vatican’s negative answer to the question of women’s ordination.

Applying the first symptom of the syndrome to the Catholic Magisterium, Daly would accuse the Vatican of relegating women to the stated of ‘victim’ by creating an environment dominated by male obsession with physical and spiritual ‘purity’ where inherently female traits (such as menstrual blood) are considered unclean. Daly’s view of the all-male Magisterium where women have no voice in the hierarchy would cite Patristic biology, based off the male anatomy, as reason for denying women leadership. Judged to be inferior to men, in a state of punishment for sin because of Eve’s participation in the Fall, women are smothered under masculine control  .

“The second element is the total erasure of personal responsibility for the atrocities performed by such rituals.” In stating such, Daly communicates the perceptions of the men themselves who are doing the abusing, committing “castrating” atrocities to women: delusional, imagining they are acting on the behalf of a divine command, those who initiate ‘purifying’ atrocities against women unconsciously separate their personal sensibilities from the role which permits them to terrorize women.  Prohibiting women from enacting perceived calls to the priesthood, the Vatican robs women of their own ability to approach God without the mediatorship of man.

“Third, gynocidal ritual practices have an inherent tendency to ‘catch on’ and spread,”  through an appeal to imaginations within patriarchal domination. Framing this premise within a hierarchical structure, Daly suggests patriarchal imagination inspires a desire amongst the laity for increased hierarchical power through repetition of elitist practices. Since Daly theorizes that atrocities against women begin at the highest level of society which subscribe devoutly to hierarchical authority, she assumes while the lower echelons of society will only allow the free exercise of priest-like leadership among women for a certain amount of time before mimicking these abuses in the belief that by such actions lower class males can gain elite status.”

“Fourth, women are used as scapegoats and token torturers”   to further disguise male intention and involvement in the actual horrors committed against women, crippling womanhood further by castrating the fruitfulness of female-to-female relationships. Employing women to do the dirty work, men disguise the legalistic propagation of an all-male hierarchy through those women who are manipulated to rebut their own sisters. Creating a polarity between women on the ordination issue, use of women as token figures of male-contrived destruction isolates women from one another, preventing an effective demand for the priestly office. “Fifth, we find compulsive orderliness, obsessive repetitiveness, and fixation upon minute details which divert attention from the horror.”  Daly describes this element of the sado-ritual system as a misdirection of emphasis from the victim women’s pain and distress to issues of purity. Instead of being able to focus on the cause of justice for male/female equal authority, orthodox belief as a matter of purity is presented as opposing feminist perception of justice.

“Sixth, behavior which at other times and places is unacceptable becomes acceptable and even normative as a consequence of conditioning through the ritual atrocity.”   Having noted the Vatican’s opposition of orthodox belief to equal rights, Daly says that these cause a splitting of the consciousness into false opposites.  Though the denial of equal rights to men and women may once have been personally perceived as an atrocity, the repetition of such a practice in hierarchical office creates a duality of rights: personal desire for what is good, and external imposition that ‘good’ is whatever the ritual dictates good to be; in this case, the subjugation and mutilation of woman into silence by men.

Finally, Daly states that “a legitimization of the ritual by the rituals of ‘objective’ scholarship—despite appearances of disapproval.”  Daly states that the Sado-ritual is legitimized not by questioning cultural assumptions, but by ignoring the reality of atrocities committed within the ritual. This final element of the Sado-ritual system is the abstraction of the masked atrocity from tangible abuse to abstract, ‘objective’ truth, which is assimilated back into the repetition of the ritual system. Daly’s contribution of the Sado-ritual system to Catholic Theology on why women cannot be ordained permits a rejection of the theology as misogyny. While Daly analyzes the appearance of the theology versus the reasons the Vatican claims it was developed, her application of the Sado-ritual syndrome to Magisterial teaching directly supports feminist theology in favor of women’s ordination.

Carol Gilligan’s System of Moral Development from an Ethic of Care:

Based on her study of women’s decision making processes regarding abortion, Carol Gilligan’s In A Different Voice: Psychological Theory and Woman’s Development offers a system of moral development in women through an ethic of care to the question of why women should not be ordained. In developing the ethic of care in regard to the issue of women’s ordination, I will examine a potential process for a woman who desires to receive ordination.

Through shifting perspectives of morality, or the development of moral position, the ethic of care evolves from an initial place of selfishness, i.e. what is best for me. Self preservation being the natural state of human beings from which to consider moral issues (“preconventional”), selfishness is the first stage in which Gilligan hypothesizes people develop an ethic of interaction. At this point in the reasoning of the ordination issue, an individual is simply thinking about herself, equating what is good with her own desire to be ordained, or her position in support of ordination as the right position to advocate. Directing her care entirely towards her own position, an individual remains fixated at the first state of development (selfishness) until a transition in her thinking begins.

The transition between the first stage (selfishness) and the second stage (goodness) is the recognition of relationship with others. Once responsibility becomes concerned first with the well-being of others, self-preservation is a selfish in comparison to attachment to others in light of social participation. Goodness becomes defined as what is best for another, and the self understands its own worth and moral quality based on how well it is able to care and protect for others. Finding the epitome of goodness in care for others, identified through societal values (“conventional”), the woman initially inclined to advocate a favorable position towards women’s ordination feels compelled to adopt the value of self-sacrifice motivated out of a responsibility not to others. Since Catholic Magisterial teaching conventionalizes the receptivity of women, a woman becomes torn between her independent desire for leadership and the expectation that she will support male leadership. As Gilligan puts it, “the logic of this position is confused in that the morality of mutual care is embedded in the psychology of dependence,” when a woman is paralyzed between “passivity of dependence and the activity of care. ”

The second transition occurs when a woman, scrutinizing her application of care in relationship of self and of other, realizes the contradiction to a morality of care, involving the harming of self in order to benefit the other. Realizing a responsibility for herself as well as for herself, a woman shifts the basis of her moral decisions and judgments from principles of goodness to principles of truth.  The third stage of the development of an ethic of care is “postconventional,” defining moral decision-making as encompassing both the needs of the individual as well as others. Personal advocacy of women’s ordination is no longer regarded as “selfish,” but also right and fair. Rejecting the concepts of self-sacrifice as “immoral in their power to hurt,”  a woman’s reasoning of moral equality between self and other complicates her decision-making process, which has the potential to devolve into a utilitarian ethic.

Gilligan’s development of the ethic of care in decision-making through three stages poses the possibility of a “gray” (neither absolutely right or wrong) position in regards to the position of women’s ordination. Recognizing that “uncertainty about her own worth prevents a woman from claiming equality,”  Gilligan’s development of moral reasoning through care evidences the need for a healthy perception of self and others when discerning a stance in the issue of women’s ordination. Release “from the intimidation of inequality finally allows women to express a judgment that had previously been withheld,”  allows a woman in favors of ordination to freely express this, rejecting violence perceived as inherent within inequality.

Applying Harrison’s New Paradigm of Sexuality to the Question of Women’s Ordination:

Referring to Christianity’s implication in “antisensual, antiwoman praxis,”  Harrison identifies “old paradigm” teaching on sexuality as repressive and objectifying of sex, setting up a belief system which took the form of “institutional control of women’s sexuality.” Identifying the controversy of women’s ordination with the “old” paradigm of negative sexuality, Harrison notes that deviation from “normative” (according to hierarchical, heterosexual standards), sexuality was viewed as exemplifying sexual anxieties.  Since Harrison would guilt this paradigm of sexuality with the offence of prohibiting women from hierarchical leadership, a new, inclusive understanding of the human person must be reached. The new paradigm of sexuality Harrison proposes involves “celebrating and making normative all deep, respectful, sensuous relationships, which, wherever they exist, ground our well-being and the bonds of mutual respect.”

This new paradigm suggests that the human capacity for relationship in sexuality “is a condition for freeing ourselves from patterns of compulsive and controlling sex, so widespread in our churches.”  This embodied way of being maximizes the human sensual experience of life and action within the world, including “our power to affect and be affected by each other.”  To prevent an individual from church leadership by virtue of their sexuality would be a denial of the beauty of human sexuality, relegating sexuality to a negative aspect of human being and amounting to a rejection of bodily experience. Since the church is an embodied reality of individual lives, “a disembodied faith and a disembodied church” become “dead, ponderous, boring, and unable to touch people’s souls.”  Embodied church has the spiritual power of reaching into and affecting the concrete sufferings of daily life, encouraging and moving through lively relationship of members.

For Harrison, embodied church draws no distinction based on sexuality (which she equates with a definition similar to Gilligan’s, that inequality is a kind of violence or injustice): nothing could be a bigger turn-off from God than to experience a deep feeling of unwelcome on the basis of sexual judgment. Setting aside sexual repression, Christian theology should reflect the reality of God’s relationship with His people. Describing God, as our Lover, being reciprocally moved in relation with us, Harrison debunks bases of sexual differentiation in the body of Christ as objectification and external control, noting these qualities are not present in the love-relationship between God and the Christian.  Applying Harrison’s arguments to the question of women’s ordination, we find that to distort the balance of right relationship by forcing women to struggle for justice (equality) in ordination causes the community to “lose a living vision of God.”  Reasoning from a liberation theology perspective where “our relationship to God is intrinsically shaped through our relations to each other,”  to no longer desire to act towards one another in right relationship (i.e. to assert the power of one gender over another) is to lose a value of the whole person in their embodied, breaking “the power of relation in our midst”  which diffuses our experience of the power of God.

Framing the question of women’s ordination in Harrison’s discussion of right relationship as undifferentiated equality between the genders, the Harrison’s primary contribution to pro ordination discussion is her emphasis of an embodied solidarity devoid of sexual discrimination as both a manifestation of Christian-God relationship as well as a participation in that relationship. Harrison’s ethic suggests that right relationship between the sexes would be furthered by the ordination of women. This right relationship can only be reinstated by transitioning from a deontological framework of one sex’s obedience to the other as an external source of control, to a new relational pattern of accepting our cohumanity by considering our own rights alongside one another. Calling on the example of Christ as a strong love, which sustains actions toward “right relation, even unto death,”  Harrison advocates the seizing of abundant life in “embodying a solidarity with one another that is deeply mutual, which is to say, reciprocal.”

Having examined three feminist ethical theories in relation to the Catholic position against women’s ordination, similarities in the critiques against and principles, which implicitly advocate the ordination of women to the ministerial priesthood. Mary Daly’s Sado-ritual syndrome offers a critique of the Catholic Magisterium’s motivation behind excluding women from the priesthood on the basis of male desire to control women. Judging the reasons offered for a male-only priesthood as purely sexist, Daly’s syndrome advocates women’s ordination through value-laden language that evidences exclusion of women from the ministerial priesthood as unjust. Carol Gilligan’s ethic of care does allow for critique of Catholic theological convention that men alone should hold priestly office based on a woman’s experience of alignment with the priestly calling. Moving beyond purely selfish striving for ordination, beyond sacrifice of desire or call towards ordination, can a consideration of inequality as violence to society (both woman and men) provide a constructive answer to the question of women’s ordination? Beverly Harrison’s development synthesizes both Daly’s recognition of sexual differentiation as a barrier to right relationship and Gilligan’s emphasis on the ethical reasoning considering self and others with the Christian relationship with God. Tying this personal relationship to integral connection with community, Harrison’s argument advocates the perspective that only through allowing equal opportunity for both men and women in the Catholic ministerial priesthood can Christians realize the mutuality of relationship with one another, reflecting the reciprocity of relationship with God.

Bibliography:

Daly, Mary. Gyn/Ecology: The Metaphysics of Radical Feminism. 2nd Ed. Beacon Press: Boston, 1990.

Gilligan, Carol. “Concepts of Self and Morality,” Chapter 3. In A Different Voice: Psychological Theory and Women’s Development. Harvard University Press: Cambridge, 1982. 64-105.

Harrison, Beverly Wildung. “Human Sexuality and Mutuality,” Chapter 7. Justice in the Making: Feminist Social Ethics. Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, 2004. 50-65.

The presentation posted from this past Wednesday has received a lot of constructive comments in person and via internet communication; it was written from the perspective entirely of those in favor (my sources for the information). As I am learning and engaging more with people on individual as well as institutional levels (sometimes simultaneous), that what really lies in question behind the whole issue are the questions of (1) why do we approach the issue the way we do and (2) what motivates our own alignment with a ‘side’. I think the biggest error is a hostile approach against or an angrily determined defense for: at the heart of each lies an experience which motivates, possibly surrounding a deeply wounded heart. These are human people, not even ‘subjects,’ but particular people with individual perceptions and reasons for purporting each respective position. It is a very passionate issue, and even from those not directly interfacing with the Catholic dimension I was presenting, it seems to stir those Christian of any denominational brand to some measure of passion.

Why? I can express my own perceptions as they originated and as they are evolving: I read scriptures growing up, and found things in Pauline attributed letters that prevented women from teaching or having authority over men. When I was little, I was curious, but didn’t object: that was the culture I was surrounded by, and I saw women putting themselves into such positions. I was told there are some things girls do, some that boys do. I have always asked “why…” and sometimes when the answer isn’t clear, the questioned (moi) gets frustrated. Growing up and asserting my independence and learning what my own relationship with God could be like, I looked around for a conversation partner to continue the formation of understanding God beyond my own perceptions (which I confess are quite one-sided). I think I picked up that we grow up and are made for marriage, so while it was something I questioned and wondered about, I just assumed at some point it would click in. In the meantime, I learned all sorts of ways to take care of myself, learned more of what I was capable of, and began experimenting with how that interacted with others in its naturally curious state.

At some point, I began redefining the stereotypes I heard for men and women, buying some, uprooting others. The great philosophical question of difference in being is quite confusing when the only way one finds one is different is by circumstantial and embodied recognition of some relative, some potentially intrinsic differences. How can we definitively distinguish? I stopped caring about that so much, though occasionally return to it. I decided to compete with the boys and see how our abilities differed. Really, not too much overall in many ways, in others, I’ve been taught a lot. I took on the independent woman struggle because I encountered suggestions that I should change the way I was learning to be in ways that were becoming really beneficially, and I reacted with negative passion. There were constructive remarks, but I took them too deeply and misunderstood that relationship does not mean forming myself according to another’s pattern. Letting the pendulum swing from a codepdendent sort of inquiry to deep introspection, the effectiveness of self-searching was only beneficial as far as it took me out of myself and into others. I am still learning that. It was in the poles of fixation in dominated and absolutely autonomous that I fell into error, because I was cloistered from community in both.

Freely confessing that I naturally project my perception of the world on others, I am slowly and sometimes painfully learning how different that really can be. I took up the quest into women’s official leadership out of curiosity, ran into its extreme when necessity to assert separation flared up, and when that subsided, I would again question the extent to which autonomy was necessary. Questioning typical sensibilities, autonomy seems opposed to the receptiveness and openness I desire to foster towards others and my God. It seems cyclical, falling into self, throwing out of self, recovery of balance. Each time, the depth and heights increase. More painful, more beneficial, different conversations each time. I have fought politics and order, because I perceived them as constraints. That passion was necessary, and now in a variation towards reason, hopefully analysis of the meaning can become clearer. What is the real concern here?

What is it to move through self out to God and others?
What is it to give the love of Jesus, as Jesus?
How does one love into openness, into truth, when one’s own sight is veiled to dim mirroring?
The questions are centering and endless…

I am the moon, the street lights my suns,
Under which I shine, glistening skin under sheen of sweat
And the white I wear contribute glimmer
To the subtle trail of a shooting star,
Unannounced and hardly notices, silent in the crowded streets,
Tearing through the delicate paper of the darkening night.
All the lives wandering the streets on a Friday night
Carry on as if unwatched and unheeded in boisterous gaiety.
Sneaking up, I startle more people than I can count,
My breathing and foot-falls are only intelligible when alone,
The solitary halls of the quiet streets echoing with bodily weariness.
But alone on the run, amongst the crowd of students and community,
I am freer than anywhere else:
6 miles start out wearily, but adrenaline builds before turning for the 6 home;
at the cusp of the rolling hills, my mental everests,
I stop: gazing onto the bay beneath, breath knocked out of lungs.
Stretching my arms to catch at the stars,
If only they would carry me over the glistening waters and into the sky.
Imagination runs wild, bodies die more everyday, and spirits live.
Correlations, movements in me, movements by me?
How far does one run before the body doesn’t move another step,
Before the soul has searched too deeply into its own corners and turned
Back, lost in itself?
Reach out: comes the whisper, reach further up, further into
The light which seems too bright for one soul to reflect,
That would be devouring, consuming, too much for one runner.
Too defined, too concentrated, and the universes we orbit in
Would dissolve into oblivion…assumed back… and maybe they meld less than we think
Our holes in the world, deepening the tread of the our orbits into the grooves of earth
Hardly one definable thought, one continuous conversation, one realized existence;
Encountering this environment, we shatter and splinter
Against the paper night, and above the hills, stretching out my arms to draw it all in,
I find the fragmented trail of self, like breadcrumbs,
Entrenching my route into mind and body.
Quiets of prayer impossible in the activity, the fluid motion;
Stillness an impossibility, for the being must be distracted,
Distracted from stillness, from aloneness,
From too much weight or too little?
Sedation of the run stirs the mind and tires the body.
Alone with itself which the body is engaged, the upper hemisphere
Of this dualized nature refuses to sit still, like a spoiled child,
Seeking its own entertainment, engagement, though its true state is easily found.
The quiet brings out the beast in us, not enough street to run it out.
The demons claim their costs, the Spirit burns its ‘toil’ in our bones…
Losing self is finding self, less is more, each decision counts.
The engagement dialog continues… touching the ring, I wonder, what will the outcome be.
How certain is uncertain, how sure is sure enough. Time and its constraints, its freedoms.
All of us are commited in the end, what should be our bond but love?
The last block home is a hill, nearly run into a deer, chase it, panting after  water.
Barley any time passes; mounting the steps, I come to one of my homes.
The heart rests many places, here is just one.

Reasonable Ordination in America? Roman Catholic Positions For and Against Women’s Ordination

Introduction:

The volatile subject I am addressing (tonight) is the Roman Catholic position of the ordination of women into the priesthood. Though Pope Paul IV and John Paul II made the discussion of the ordination of women a non-issue, I appeal to Roman Catholics in America, being culturally swamped to such a degree that magisterial statements sound like pure misogyny to the average America, to reopen the ambiguous and divisive discussion of women’s ordination to seek a reasonable understanding of the issue at hand. Though some Catholics have perceived the question of women’s ordination to be closed, Fr John Wijngaards argues:

‘According to generally accepted ecclesiastical interpretation such doctrinal declarations by the Congregation do not impede further discussion. In at least two official interpretations given, it was authoritatively stated that such documents ‘have not in the least the aim to forbid that Catholic writers should study the question further. (2 June 1927) Wijnigaards, John. Did Christ Rule Out Women Priests?

By examining the historical context of the question of women’s ordination in America from its roots in American civil society, I will provide the context in which the Catholic Church must foster a reasonable conversation to the theological issue of women’s ordination. Comparing magisterial theological perspective against women’s ordination to the theological arguments in favor, I suggest that the women’s ordination movement in America, being a phenomenon of lay spirituality, presents a challenge to the mode of continuing magisterial tradition. Can a truce between the opposing theologies be reached which appeals both the American sensibilities of equality as well as fulfilling magisterial tenants of tradition, scripture, reason, and experience?

Cultural Setting of the Question: American Catholic Church

Beginning by discussing the correlation of feminist political sentiment to the rise of American belief in “equal rights” politically and religiously, I suggest we remain mindful, when considering a theology that developed within a cultural context, that theology has been used to justify political sentiment and struggles for justice (as an example, consider liberation theology). The political sphere in which the question of women’s ordination arose in America began with the equalizing the status of men and women as citizens through the women’s suffrage movement. Following women’s suffrage, the religious environment in America became gradually friendlier towards female clergy.

Synthesis of political and religious movements for women’s rights: Summary Women’s Suffrage Movement:

The Women’s Suffrage movement in America allowed women to obtain the right vote in 1848 when the first women’s rights convention was held in Seneca Falls, New York. Up until women rallied to obtain the right to vote and own property, only white, adult males were actively full citizens of the U.S. Denied rights to vote on the basis of biology and morality, women were considered second class citizens until 1920. Emphasizing the “frailty” of women biologically and temperament (she might get caught up in a brawl), the movement against women’s suffrage claimed that a woman’s “frailty” made her “unsuited” for the vote. The second reason for which women were denied was that of morality, comparing women’s desire for the right to vote to Eve’s desire for forbidden knowledge. One protestor of women’s suffrage at a rally in Connecticut commented, “That is the old story-of woman-Eve she got it and we’ve had trouble ever since.” Women’s suffrage in America recognized the cultural belief that women and men are politically and morally equal, beginning the battle of women for true egalitarian rights spanning not only the political arena, but also the religious.

Religious Equality for Women:

The United States of America was founded on principles of religious freedom, reflected in the first amendment to the U.S. Constitution, offering the majority of initial settlers of America freedom for popular religious practices. These religious practices became organized into religions, which were imbued with the sentiments of Western/American culture: egalitarian beliefs devolved into systematized faiths. By tracing the origins of women’s ordination movements in correspondence to female political activism, I will develop the scene of religious sentiment in which American women seeking clerical positions find themselves. Only five years after the first women suffrage convention in1880, Anna Howard Shaw became the first women to be ordained by a Christian denomination in the United States (the Methodist Protestant Church, which later merged with other denominations to form the United Methodist Church).

I suggest that the American mindset towards female religiosity reflects a gradual accommodation of a uniquely American individualistic drive for personal autonomy and freedom within the framework of Western patriarchal approach to religion. . Combining the plight of women for socio-political autonomy with that of religious equality, a trend arose in American Christian denominations to ordain women, also affecting non-apostolic churches internationally.

Analysis of American Lay participation in Catholic Liturgy and Devotion:

While statistic are not precise as to the active participation of women to men in Catholic parishes, some suggest that as high as seventy-five percent of faithful Catholics in America are women. A study from Notre Dame, Indiana, indicated that in the 80s, women were the main participants in Catholic religious practices: 63% of the regular Mass attenders were women; Daily Mass attendance among the general Catholic populace was about 80% female; and popular devotions such as Stations of the cross, public rosary, and novenas were maintained by disproportionately older women. Increased female participation in both Catholic worship and service seem to be represented by the fact that 80% of all paid lay ministers are women. Since American Catholicism has become a religion taught by mothers and grandmothers as well as practiced in the home, the faith is now predominantly female. Women occupy the underground supportive roles behind every lay movement in the Catholic Church.

Yet women are not permitted to be ordained because apostolic tradition engages the ritualistic system that Jesus Christ taught that only men should be ordained into the priesthood by His choice of male apostles. Thus, “males share the same body as Christ, therefore they exude the likeness of Jesus Christ the best.” Ignoring the fact that all-male priesthood is based in part on a patristic anthropology, which derives its roots from cultural degradation of women as carriers of the curse of Eve, unclean, and lesser beings than men, not carrying the image of God. In spite of all the data of female activity within the Catholic church, the ritual of all-male priesthood has dominated the religion through argument of apostolic tradition. This distinct social practice of an all male, celibate priesthood idealized as channeling Jesus in the consecration of the Eucharist in the mass confirms an elitist identity among Catholics. The celibate, male priesthood is a very tangible example of a symbolic scheme dominating other practices/beliefs, acting as the only means of ultimate union with God (in the Eucharist). The ritual of the Mass, and particularly of the Eucharist, are prime examples of how a society can be self-determined and self-confined: the Catholic calls himself Catholic predominantly because of this exclusive consecration and communion with his Lord in the Eucharist.

The absence of male interest in serving in the celibate office of priestly leadership evidences the failure of an institution to continue its self-perpetuation. While some theorists blame the political feminist movement for the feminization of Catholicism, others suggest that women naturally have a greater propensity for spirituality. Either way, some women in the Catholic Church have desired to move beyond their dependent constraints and to be ordained in response to callings they feel from God. Unlike the conservative Protestant movement, women’s active roles in the Catholic Church have already crossed the lines into ordination—though in each instance, the ordained woman and presiding bishop have been excommunicated. Female lay leadership, recognized or not by the presiding authority, has emerged as predominant movement amongst American Roman Catholic is: women have necessarily stepped in to maintain their religious systems when men have lost interest/receded from ministerial duties.

Theological of Catholic Magisterium Regarding Ordination of Women:

The Magisterial position regarding the ordination of women that I present will be based on two Apostolic Letters; Inter Insigniores issued by Pope Paul VI in October 15, 1976 and Ordinatio Sacerdotalis by Pope John Paul II on May 22, 1994, as well as in Canon Law, the Vatican responded to the question of women’s ordination to the priesthood was denied as theologically possible. In these two documents, two theological arguments are employed to refute the ability of the Catholic Church to ordain women: the “Iconic argument” and the “argument from authority.” Inter Insigniores (1976), presents both the “iconic argument” (Jesus must be represented by a male) and the “argument from authority” (Jesus chose only male apostles). Ordinatio Sacerdotalis (1994), the Apostolic Letter of John Paul II, presents only the “argument from authority.”

The iconic argument is based on the embodied person of the Christ, Jesus, who came down to earth in the biological sex of a man. Pope John Paul II described the ministerial Priest as “the sacramental representation of Christ the Head and Shepherd,” This is to say that the priest is an icon of Christ the Priest that is divinely written by the Holy Spirit (cf. Catechism 1142). “Chosen and consecrated by the sacrament of Holy Orders, by which the Holy Spirit enables them to act in the person of Christ the head,” priests serve their community as an “icon,” a physical representation of the priesthood of Christ. Presiding at the Eucharist is noted as the chief means through which the priest “icons” Christ “because the priest is the minister of Christ’s Sacrifice and of His mercy, the priest is indissolubly bound up with the two sacraments of the Eucharist and Reconciliation.” Unable to act in persons Christi because of her gender, the Vatican rules that a woman is incapable of fulfilling the icon of Bridegroom expressed in the Bridal imagery used regarding Church’s salvific marriage to Christ. If the Church is the bride of Christ, the Vatican reasons, is it not fitting that ministerial priests should be male so as to symbolize this reality?

The second argument presented against the ordination of women to the ministerial priesthood is based on a historical theological argument from authority. Based on tradition, reason, and scripture the Catholic Magisterium states that it does not have the authority to ordain women to ministerial priesthood. Asserting that the priesthood was instituted at the last supper, the Magisterium prohibits women from priesthood for two reasons: The Apostles were exclusively male, and the Church must perpetuate Christ’s example in ordination. The Vatican also rests its claim that women cannot be ordained on the fact that the New Testament provides no guidance for the ordination of women. Citing this as lack of historical precedent, the Vatican also references the fact that Patristic statements indicate that women should not be ordained as evidence against its authority to ordain women.

In addition to these theological arguments explicitly offered in the two Apostolic documents, the Vatican has prohibited the ordination of women through its own, recent tradition of Canon Law. The following canons raise issues of religious equality based on gender as mandated by Catholic ecclesial law :

• Only men can hold ecclesiastical orders and offices. Canon 118. “Only [male] clerics can hold the power of order or ecclesiastical jurisdiction, or obtain benefices and ecclesiastical pensions”.

• Women cannot be full members of pious organizations. Canon 709, § 2.. “[With regard to confraternities or pious unions established to promote devotional or charitable works], women cannot be given membership in them, except for the purpose of gaining the indulgences and spiritual graces granted to the male members.”

• Women are the last choice of minister for baptism. Canon 742 § 1. “In case of emergency, any one can baptize.” Canon 742 § 2.“But if there is a priest, he is preferred to a deacon, a deacon to a subdeacon, a cleric to a lay man and a man to a woman, unless it is more convenient that a woman rather than a man baptize, for decency’s sake, or if a woman is better acquainted with the form and mode of baptizing.”

• Women may not distribute holy communion. Canon 845, par. 1.. “The ordinary minister of holy communion is only the priest.” Canon 845. par. 2. “The extraordinary minister of holy communion is the deacon, with permission of the local bishop or the parish priest, only to be granted for a serious reason, which may legitimately be presumed in a case of emergency.”

- Relaxation by Vatican II: According to Fidei Custos, released by the Congregation of Sacraments on April 30, 1969, lay and consecrated women are empowered to distribute Communion in extraordinary circumstances (§ 3) —and lay women are listed as a final resort, when man or nun cannot be found (§ 5): “… A woman of special devoutness may be chosen in emergencies, namely whenever any other suitable person cannot be found. ”

• Only men can be ordained to Holy Orders. Canon 968, § 1. “Only a baptized male can receive sacred ordination.”

Two critiques of the Church’s refusal to ordain women cite traditions stemming from the Church herself. Appealing to one of the statements form the Second Vatican Council, Fr. John Wijgaards quotes the council, to say:

‘Forms of social and cultural discrimination in basic personal rights on the grounds of sex, race, colour, social conditions, language or religion, must be curbed and eradicated as incompatible with God’s design. It is regrettable that these basic personal rights are not yet being respected everywhere, as is the case with women who are denied the chance freely to choose a husband, or state of life, or to have access to the same educational and cultural benefits as are available to men.’ Excluding women from the ministry of the Church is, prima facie, a clear form of ecclesiastical discrimination.”

A second critique against the argument that women cannot act in persona Christi decentralizes the argument of acting the person of Christ from the gender of Jesus to the salvific agency of the Christ figure. While Christology teaches that Jesus the Christ was male, the preaching of His gospel message and actions of baptism, not to mention the salvation administered to all people, both men and women, were not limited to one sex nor the other. “The fact that women who baptize and marry act in persona Christi considerably weakens [John Paul’s] Declaration.” Proponents of women’s ordination to the sacramental priesthood accuse the Vatican of devaluing women’s experience of vocational call from the Holy Spirit, and using theology to justify fears of women’s leadership

Roman Catholic Theology For Women’s Ordination

While theological arguments vary in nuanced forms amongst groups advocating the ordination of women to the ministerial priesthood, most theological arguments address four major categories by which the Catholic Magisterium itself qualifies its argument: Scripture, Tradition, Reason [arguing theologically against the iconic argument], and Experience [which addresses the issue of Authority]. Noting the variety of theological arguments, I have chosen to discuss those specified by Fr. John Wijngaards because of his preeminent and outspoken position in favor of women’s ordination.

Beginning with sacred scripture, Wijngaards argues that there can be no valid appeal to scripture, counter to the Vatican’s assertions. Wijngaards argues that the very logic of the Magisterium’s argument establishing a permanent norm for an all-male priesthood is invalid, being based off something Jesus did not do. This implies that the Vatican has assumed the absence of women from a void in the text. More likely, Wijngaards reasons, women were present at the Last Supper when Jesus instigated the priesthood, as was the custom for Jewish Passover to be celebrated by the whole family. Not only were women present at the instigation of the priesthood, Wijngaards claims, but Jesus also

“made women equal partners in the priesthood through baptism, which disposes women to share in the priestly ministry.” Since Jesus was so counter-cultural, then perhaps the only reason He did not choose women to be part of the Twelve Apostles was because of “the social predominance of men in His time.”

Noting that feminist reading of tradition supports the idea of a hierarchal structure to the Church, Wijngaards critiques the arguments the Magisterium makes from tradition against the ordination of women as based on medieval and patristic prejudice against women. Dating this prejudice back to influential authors like Thomas Aquinas, Wijngaards claims that women were traditionally considered: Inferior be nature and by law; In state of punishment for sin because of Eve’s participation in the Fall; and ritually unclean, derived from Levitical purity codes and superstitions about menstrual blood . In this manner, Wijngaards notes that the Church Fathers and medieval theologians rarely spoke about women’s ordination, and any mention was based in social and religious prejudices, which have been retained in codified Church law. Thus any perpetuation of the tradition which is so heavily-laden with prejudice is merely theological repetition without critical examination.

In fact, Wijgnaards promotes tradition as a beneficial argument for women’s ordination movements, claiming that the Church did once admit women into Holy Orders by ordaining them into a sacramental deaconate. While it is important to note that the sacramentality of the diaconate is debated by many scholars, and those in favor of women’s ordination frequently interpret evidence of women’s leadership in the early Church as a sacramental deaconate, which indicates a regression in Church practice versus a progression of tradition. Further advocation of tradition in support of female priestly office interprets Mary as the standard for ‘priestly’ functions :

There is no status or hierarchical order among the clergy that does not see in the Blessed Virgin the exercise of its own ministry and she does nothing externally for which she did not possess the interior grace in abundance. Jean-Jacques Olier

Turning to theology, Wijngaards claims that there are no valid theological arguments barring women from ordination. Appealing to reason, Wijgaards attacks the iconic argument, arguing that women are as able as men to act in persona Christi. Recalling that the ancient one body anthropology held by early Church Father and medieval theologian, was based on male anatomy as the norm, it is obvious that women were not considered equally human to men. If not equal in humanity to men, women also did not share in the same image of God, and so of course could not perform equally with men in approaching relationship with God. Advocating that Christ’s mediatorship, not his maleness, is signified by a priest, Wijngaards argues that women too can share this role. Not only is the symbol of acting in persona Christi not gendered for the priesthood, Wijnaard also callings that ‘at the Eucharist the priest acts not only “in the person of Christ,” but also “in the person of the Church,”’ producing an ambivalence in the engendering of the priestly symbol.

Besides noting a genderless character to the priesthood, Wijngaards reasons that the according to the Catechism of the Catholic Church 1141, in sacramental liturgy, the Body of Christ is manifested as a: celebrating assembly is the community of the baptized who, “by regeneration and the anointing of the Holy Spirit, are consecrated to be a spiritual house and a holy priesthood, that through all the works of Christian men they may offer spiritual sacrifices.” This “common priesthood” is that of Christ the sole priest, in which all his members participate. Since no individual has a right to be ordained, Wijngaards believes that there is no valid argument obtainable for the exclusion of women in the Catholic priesthood. As a further argument from reason, Wijngaards appeals to other churches’ recognition of the call of the Holy Spirit to conclude that the Holy Spirit moves the same in all churches, so Catholic women who perceive a call of the Holy Spirit towards ordination should be permitted to follow their vocations legitimately. In the final aspect of his theological reasoning for the ordination of women, Wijngaards addresses the argument from authority, claiming that “the Church has the authority from Jesus Christ to ordain women as priests.” Claiming that Rome has not established infallible teaching by the ordinary universal magisterium (referring to the concordant teaching of all Catholic bishops together with the Pope) on women priests, Wijnigaards states that this is because the five conditions for infallible teaching have not been fulfilled. Based on this claim, Wijngaards states that the Vatican’s teaching on the matter of ordination remains unresolved.

My personal critique of the feminist position in favor of women’s ordination is that it seems to set the discussion of the priesthood in terms of Nietzsche’s “will to power” versus “will to truth,” viewing the all-male hierarchy of the Catholic Magisterium as a threat to the individual being and ability of women. Whether intended or not, I fear that the movement to ordain women has already begun to devolve into a power struggle of which gender is in control, rather than a genuine concern over the movement and leading of the Holy Spirit. If the office of priesthood was truly instigated by Jesus Christ, the same Jesus who preached that the last shall be first and the first shall be last, who taught that the one who desires to be great in God’s kingdom must first be the servant of all, then the concern of “who is in control” would not be as much an issue as “are our actions as a community, as individuals representing the love of Jesus Christ?” That, I believe, it truly acting in persona Christi.

Conclusion: What is reasonable for the Catholic Church in America? Practical in Global Church setting?

What Does the State of American Catholic Churches Suggest about Women’s Equality?

Liberal Protestant and Jewish congregations have readily accepted the women into official religious leadership, while conservative Protestant and apostolic Christian traditions allow women to unofficially monopolize the pews and the services within the church congregations. Overwhelmingly, the Christian church in America seems to be full of women eager to participate in their faith. If political liberation movements recognize the equality of women to exercise secular leadership, shouldn’t the church universal be acknowledging its female members’ God-given gifts and encourage them to serve as they have been best equipped?

Setting the context of Christian culture for the movement of women’s leadership in the American Catholic church towards ordination, it is important to recognize that 23.9% of Americans identified as of Catholic faith. Holding such a vast majority within American society, socio-religious pressure on the institution of the Catholic Church itself already leans heavily in favor of women’s ordination, though this has been combated on an institutional level with a swift return to fundamental, elitist doctrines of the Catholic faith. In the Catholic Church though women are excluded from recognized leadership, women are more active then men. Since popular religiosity stems from the localized worldview of common people, it seems natural to predicate a change in the gender politics of a religious system on a change in gender politics legislated by government.

I suggest that the egalitarian ethics promoted by the American feminist movement have awakened Catholic women to the places they already hold within their church: positions of incredible influence of which I dare to say that without, existence of Catholicism as it is practiced today would be impossible. Holding roles as “significant number of women… as director(s) of religious education, school principal(s) or coordinator(s) of liturgy,” it is no surprise that Boston College Magazine quoted that 53% of American Catholic Laity favored the ordination of women priests in 1999, while even more recent poles indicate that favor has risen among U.S. laity to 61-67%. Thus the rise of women’s practices in Catholicism suggests an integration of women into the priesthood on the part of the institutionalized hierarchy, in order to accommodate female-led forms of religious expression.

Judging by the fact that “American” Catholic religious practice has developed in the context of a society which adopted a feminist social ethic of the equality (that is to say, moral sameness) of men and women, the evidence of female involvement within the Catholic Church in America naturally raises the question of women’s hierarchical leadership. Based on the socio-political state of our country, as well as the ethic of equality and justice that most of us hold, is it reasonable to assume that women’s ordination should remain an open discussion?

Recognizing the social compatibility of women’s ordination in America, we must be careful to consider the global state of that Catholic Church: though socially acceptable in America, would women’s ordination be equally as liberating and socially beneficial for women in other nations? I suggest that not only does female attainment to the elitist priesthood point to the awareness of feminine predominance within the Catholic Church, but it also demonstrates the depth at which women have been historically suppressed. The increase of lay preaching amongst women may be a palatable first step towards women’s ordination, along with that of ordaining deaconesses (a practice sustainable from tradition), rather than launching directly into an exclusive priesthood.

The larger question I see facing the women’s ordination movement is the fate of men in the Catholic Church themselves: does hierarchical resistance arise from a deep-seated fear that with the general feminization of culture and religion, men will lose a point of identification with Christianity altogether? As a popular movement claimed amongst what has been a largely liturgically excluded group, women are faced with the responsibility of advocating Christian equality without marginalizing their brothers in Christ. However, I do lament the internal conflict raging within many supporters of feminine equality in the Catholic Church, “forced to choose between one’s own moral agency/freedom of conscience, and continuing membership in a religious community, celebrating the Eucharist, preaching, or teaching.”

Perhaps the challenge posed by the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith in its “Response” to the apostolic letter Ordinatio Sacerdotalis in November 1995 best states the opinion of the majority of American Catholics regarding the Pope’s stated inability to ordain women according to Church tradition:

“The Pope is fully justified in saying that he has no authority to change the tradition on his own initiative. The proper forum for a decision in a matter of this kind is a council………If Jesus acted in accord with the culture of his day, then we can ask whether faithfulness to him does not require us to do the same.”

Whether or not the question can be answered satisfactorily to the egalitarian ethic of American society, I believe it is most important for those mindfully engaging in this dialog to be aware of our own motivations regarding which theological position we argue, not discrediting the experience of others, but remembering our equal human dignity in Christ, as St. Paul stated in Galatians 3.38:“There can be neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor freeman, there can be neither male nor female—for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Bibliography:

Abshire, Brian. “The Sociology of Christendom.” The International Institute for Christian Culture: Laying the Foundation for the Next Reformation. 4 May 2008. 12 January 2009. . Binger, Annette. “The Ministry of Women,” Eureka Street.com.au. 14 January 2009. . Carlson, Carol. “Clergywomen and Senior Pastorates.” Christian Century. January 6-13, 1988, p. 15. Online at Religion Online. 13 January 2009. . Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith. “From ‘Inter Insigniores to ‘Orginatio Sacerdotalis.” United State Catholic Conference: Washington, D.C.: 1998. Giles, Kevin. “Book Review: Evangelical Feminism: A New Path to Liberalism,” by Wayne Grudem (Crossway, 2006). Priscilla Papers. Vol. 22, No. 3. Summer 2008. 27-30. 12 January 2009. . Little, Joyce. The Church and the Culture War: Secular Anarchy or Sacred Order. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1995. Louis, Steve. “Women’s Ordination to Catholic Priesthood,” Pharea’s World. 15 March 2009. . Mayor, Mayor. “Fears and Fantasies of the anti-Suffragists,” Connecticut Review 7, no. 2 (April 1974), pp. 64-74. McKnight, Scot. “Women Ministering.” E-Quality. “Evidence for Biblical Equality.” Autumn 2008, Vol. 7, Issue 3. A publication of Christians for Biblical Equality International. 15 January 2009. . Murdock, Rose. “Women in Ministry?” BibleSeed.com. 17 January 2009. . Pottmeyer, Hermann J. “Refining the Question About Women’s Ordination,” This article first appeared in America, October 26, 1996, pp. 16 – 18. 15 March 2009. . “Someday church will ordain women priests. (John Paul II’s opposition to women’s ordination).” Date: June 17, 1994 | COPYRIGHT 1994 National Catholic Reporter. This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan. 15 March 2009. . Trull, Joe. “Women and Other Creatures: The Gender Debate.” Christian Ethics Today: Journal of Christian Ethics. Issue 010, Volume 7, No 3., April 1997. 10 January 2009. . Wijnigaards, John. Did Christ Rule Out Women Priests? Essex: McCrimmon’s, 1986. –.Did Christ Rule Out Women Priests? Essex: McCrimmon’s, 1986. 15 March 2009. Online version at: . –. The Ordination of Women in the Catholic Church: Unmasking a Cuckoo’s Egg Tradition. London: Darton, Longman, and Todd Ltd., 2001. “Women Are the Backbone of the Christian Congregations in America.” The Barna Group. Barna.Org. 6 March 2000. 17 January 2009. . Zagano, Phyllis. “Catholic women’s ordination: the ecumenical implications of women deacons in the Armenian Apostolic Church, the Orthodox Church of Greece, and the Union of Utrecht Old Catholic Churches,” Journal of Ecumenical Studies. Published: 1 January 2008. 15 March 2009. .

Attachment:

Continuation of Canon Law citations which bias the status of men and women in liturgy, obtained from “The Code of Canon Law, 1917.” Roman Catholic Women Priests. 15 March 2009.

.Women take their domicile from their husbands. Canon 93, § 1 “A wife who is not legitimately separated from her husband, automatically retains her husband’s domicile

. Girls or women may not be Mass servers at the altar. Canon 813, § 2. “The mass server should not be a woman, unless no man can be found and there is a good reason, and then on this understanding that the woman responds from a distance and does in no way approach the altar.” Re-endorsed by Vatican II as “grave infringement of ecclesiastical discipline” which “will need to be suppressed with firmness”(Liturgical Commission, 25 January 1966); ” …women, whether young girls, married women or nuns, are forbidden to serve the priest at the altar…”(Third Instruction on the implementation of the Constituion on the Liturgy, Acta Apostolicae Sedis 62 (1970) p. 700)

. Men and women should sit separately in church. Canon 1262, § 1. “It is desirable that, in harmony with ancient Church order, the women in church be separated from the men.”

Women should have their heads veiled in church. Canon 1262, § 2. “Men should attend Mass, either in church or outside church, with bare heads, unless approved local custom or special circumstances suggest otherwise; women, however, should have their heads veiled and should be modestly dressed, especially when they approach the table of the Lord.”

Sacred linen must first be washed by men, before women touch them. Canon 1306, § 1. “Chalices, patens, purificators, palls and corporals before being washed should only be touched by clerics who are responsible for maintaining them. ” Canon 1306, § 2. “The first washing of purificators etc. should only be undertaken by a cleric of the higher orders.” Relaxed by moto proprio “Pastorale Munus” of Pope VI, 30 November 1963, allowing women to wash.

Women may not preach in church. Canon 1342, § 2“All lay people are forbidden to preach in church, even if they belong to religious congregations.” Relaxation. Vatican II, Constitution on the Liturgy, allowed an exception, but 1965 the Consilium ad exsequendam Constitutionem de sacra Liturgia negatively replied: the office of lector, it was answered, is a liturgical duty, which is conferred upon men only (1, 1965, pp. 139-140, n. 41 and n. 42).

Women may not read out Sacred Scripture in church. Relaxation: The “General Introduction to the Roman Missal”, Institutio Generalis Missalis Romani, ch. 3, art. 66, of 1969, gives permission to the Bishops’ Conference to allow women to read the lessons preceding that of the Gospel, while remaining outside the sanctuary, in case no man qualified for the duty of lector is present.

Hannah M. Mecaskey, MA Systematic and Philosophical Theology Student
Paper on Women’s Ordination in America
Presented at: Dumb Ox Theological Student Forum
Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology, Berkeley
18 March 2009, 7.30pm, Galleria

Good heavens, life is complicated. For the past semester and 9 weeks of my life, I have been immersed in all sorts of feminist ethic studies, as I have worked on the issue of Roman Catholic Women’s ordination. My interest in this subject began before taking it into a Catholic context, and doesn’t center on ordination or a politically-charged public leadership role of a particular Christian denomination as much as it does the issue of men and women in right relationship before God with one another. My faith over the past three years has changed so radically, I cannot begin to recount the change of events and circumstances that have led me to probe God more deeply. But the beginning of this year symbolized another conversion of thought for me—an experience I have so often now it is almost to be expected with each change of season, weather, semester. Not a moody sort of theology, but one that is being ravenously devoured and digested with all the concentrated life formation of constant interaction.

Last semester, I began with a sense of apprehension of the feminist culture I encountered quite frequently here in the more socially/politically/religiously liberal GTU. Let me define my terms before I take another step so this manifesto positional analysis does not become too equivocal: the terms I will focus on are liberal, conservative, and feminist. Liberal in the three dimensions I have listed, means broadly ecumenical/open/accepting. This is neither positive nor negative, because it does not intrinsically imply a sense of morality or theology, though often the Bay Area liberalism of my experience, even in GTU, tends to be one rather dramatically opposed or hesitant towards conservatism. Liberal thought, for my discussion, defines equality as a type of sameness, where to be equal, one must have possibility to do all things alike, defining in broad definition. Liberalism in the sense I will be using it is not synonymous with feminism, but feminist perspective has a distinctive flavor when afforded to liberal mindset. Conservatism on the other hand, I assign an approach that views equality in terms of difference, often assigning roles to male and female based on intrinsic differences in gender. While tending to distinguish more variations and categorize by narrower approach, conservative thought notices value differences of too-broadly encompassing dimension while liberal thought judges value differences as too-narrowly confined, leading to positions of equality which are commonly perceived to oppose one another. The final word yet to be defined is feminism, which is simply any conversation about women which seeks to recognize their value as women in relation to the whole of society.

So what I began with last semester was a left-over passion I acquired over my final year and a half of undergraduate, a desire to see females who find themselves confined in a stiff definition of feminine role, and thus unable to exercise their gifts, liberated into an experience of intimacy with their God by stepping into the fullness of the life Christ has made possible for everyone who has claimed new life by faith in Jesus. I was brimming with an egalitarian ethic over the summer and a passion to see the world within church spill outside any Christian boundaries with this unquenchable filial love. Unsure if structure was necessary if a good conversation was truly facilitated about differences, I had a bias towards communitarian living as the most effective means of loving one another into the image of Christ. While I would discuss women’s rights, I wanted nothing more than an overly weighty bias against women interacting with women as personal equals.

As the semester progressed and I journeyed through feministic studies of different texts illuminating the absence or denial of women’s positions in crucial places of leadership, I began rationalizing and adopting positions I would call “feminist,” very hesitantly, creeping towards a place from conservative feminist thought, to far more liberal feminist thought. Working with the issue of women’s ordination, similar to a subject I had broached at my protestant school (women pastors), I saw no justification for women being left out. Cannot ikon/image Christ? 12 Apostles were all men? We know there were more than 12 Apostles, and what about Jesus’ interaction with women? From the historical sources I read and the projects I immersed myself in, I saw authors tracing the exclusion of women from various offices as political movement. Why, with my egalitarian ethic, was I opposing women’s ordination? Was this an act of misogyny on my part, biasing against my own gender? What would cause me not to want to follow a woman? By the end of the semester, my writing reflected a heavy leaning in favor of the ordination of women, arguing from a basis of poor theology or gender misogyny, but admittedly not dealing with the whole issue. I came through my first wrestling with liberal feminism opposed to my more conservative notions of equality, realizing there was a political structure at work in both systems of leadership, but “converted” as I put it, towards women’s ordination.

Over Christmas break, I was having thoughts about a position which I only barely conceded too towards the end of the semester. Wrestling with my own issues of women’s leadership, I didn’t want to try and discern an ethical or philosophical position in one semester, yet my perspective had changed so much, I felt arguing in favor was the only option left open to me. Reunited with Tridentine Catholic friends over Christmas break, my doubts about the religious system I was running headlong into surfaced as struggles with the theological notions of Church came back into my view. Believing I was going to have to claim an autonomous status in the universal, mystical church of Christ in order to maintain the integrity of my conscience, I began to reorder my other thoughts and opinions and wonder if the sense of differentiation which I had continued to perceive in the gender equality conversation according to such autonomy. My spiritual life has been a constant war between autonomy and dependence, aloneness and community, so finding myself once more looking at the prospects of not joining a community that I loved seemed typical. My personal feminism, then, having no need to be moderated by the religious system (though I still considered it) ran in a freer exploration of what the feminine being should be.

I did conclude, after a brief 5 weeks up to intersession, that one cannot understand oneself except in the context of relationship (here I promote Henry Nouwen’s Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life)… and this included the issue of gender. Working from an internal ordering which I believe natural to me of a gender complementarity, I realized I could not understand myself if only left to women: I am not a lesbian, and women thought solely informing woman thought tends to lead to a woman-centeredness in thought/female society, which I term lesbian. If the opposite were true, male thought solely informing men on how to be in the world would lead to a male-biased center I would call patriarchal or chauvinistic.  Struggling against a personal desire for autonomy, versus a “captured” state of intimacy (mind, this is a perception), I leaned away from the path of self-determined autonomous feminism (focusing solely on personal, sometimes perceived as selfish issues, or women’s issues) towards a more communitarian approach… with a renewed appreciation for the values conservative diversity.  Woman was not made to be man, nor man woman, and there is no hierarchical system of value in the sameness or the difference, I determined, so why promote a feminism that carries a will to power?

Women’s ordination for me has been separated into two categories: the desire for power, and the desire to follow a vocation. I am not going to touch the vocation, because who am I to determine the voice to the Holy Spirit. But I am no longer personally pursuing a self-determining autonomy… I believe if we are intrinsically relational beings, I cannot discover my vocation as woman as well as my personal vocation alone. Wrestling with community again, I have stepped out of a thought-track of ordination and of pursuing ‘church’ and am looking to perceive how to best live out my life with Jesus. I have made such a step at this point in the road because on my left hand, I wear a reminder of whose I am: I am married to Jesus. I have committed to His purposes all my being, and He never operated in a gender vacuum, but intentionally pursued relationships. Because of this, the  community of Jesus is my community, and I will not take a faith label either, even to categorize my theology. Working in a Catholic framework, I am at home. But home is where the heart is. My marriage to Jesus cannot devolve into a ‘spiritual polygamy’, the term I am now using to define any direction that does not fully align with were I see Jesus going: not exclusive to those who call Him God, sociology of religion is my new exploration to understand community, as well as the experience of relationship itself.

So on, back to the journey, scrutinizing feminism as I go.