Rocking the Ordination Boat

Floating on a boat in international waters on the St. Lawrence Seaway, nine women were recently "ordained" by two female Roman Catholic 'bishops' from Germany. This none-too-subtle event certainly brings to the fore the issue of ordination for women in the Catholic Church. Of course, the female bishops had been excommunicated, and the Vatican has not made any comment on the recent ordinations, but one can assume that the validity of this will not be accepted in Rome:

http://www.tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=5462

But forcing the issue is probably the only way that any discussion will occur, at least in the near future. Certainly, the debate has been polarized. On the one hand, the traditionalists insist that as Christ was male, the priesthood must be entirely male. On the other side, advocates for the ordination of women assert that being "Christ-like" does not necessarily involve gender, but rather the following of Christ's example of selflessness and love, and that all Christians are called upon to do this. Sadly, some of the rhetoric on both sides has been decidedly un-Christian, with traditionalists berating "uppity women" for wanting to ruin the Church, and with women's ordination advocates asserting that the Church establishment is simply misogynistic and preoccupied with preserving a status quo from which they benefit.

Unfortunately, these ad hominem attacks (ironic word usage intended) do little to shed light, or the Christian spirit, on the matter. An examination of Christian history is in order…

The existence of female leaders in the early church cannot really be debated, but their exact role has been obscured. One might suggest that the Romanization of the Church in the 4th century had much to do with this, as Roman society was entirely paternalistic. Indeed, the head of a Roman household, the “pater familias,” wielded absolute authority within the household – even to the point of being empowered to kill his wife and children if they disobeyed him, or dishonored the family. Women had no legal rights in Roman society whatsoever (another cultural idiosyncracy borrowed from the Greeks, along with most of their gods).

It is not surprising, then, that when Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, it took on aspects of this highly paternalistic culture. Women continued to play a role in the Church, but it was virtually invisible unless one was a considerable distance from Rome.

We have some indication of this in the early Irish Church, where figures such as St. Brigid of Kildare (5th-6th century) were regarded as equal to male abbots and other ecclesiastical leaders. In fact, the Life of Brigid (Bethu Brigte) states that the bishop who made Brigid an Abess was so impressed with the sanctity of Brigid that he consecrated her with the orders of a bishop. However, she was not, it seems, empowered to administer the sacrament of communion. Of course, this provides ammunition for both sides of the argument.

It should also be noted that clerical celibacy has never been considered to be among the infallible dogmas of the Catholic Church, and has been considered more than once, with rules being altered by various Popes. Indeed, there are different rules in different traditions. For example, in the Eastern Rite (under Eastern patriarchs, but in full communion with Rome), married men may become deacons or priests. However, they may not marry after ordination.

But the ordination of women has seemingly always been forbidden by the Catholic Church. Indeed, it has been advanced as a dogmatic (i.e., infallible) principle as recently as 1995 by the Vatican, and since the person clarifying the matter was Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI), there is little chance of any re-examination of the issue for the moment.

But there are those who challenge the view on theological grounds. The Old Catholic Church, a loosely-knit community of churches who split with the Vatican in 1870, following the First Vatican Council, takes issue with the entire principle of infallibility. It is thus not surprising that the Old Catholic Church has allowed the ordination of women. And there are certainly those within the Catholic Church itself who take issue with the dogmatic pronouncement on women’s ordination. Sister Kathleen Dolphin, of St. Mary’s College in Notre Dame, IN, has stated, “It's faulty theology and there's a growing consensus among theologians around the world that there is no theology against the ordination of women that is credible.”

It would seem that this opinion is shared by a majority of the Catholic faithful in America. In a poll taken shortly before the conclave that selected Pope Benedict XVI, some 60% of American Catholics indicated that they supported the ordination of women. Of course, the American Catholic Church has for years been considered more liberal than its counterparts in many other areas of the globe, but 60% is a number worth considering at least.

And yet, the Church does not make decisions based upon opinion polls. Indeed, the notion of something absolute with respect to moral pronouncements has been a strength of the Church. And, it might also be said that the younger generation of Catholics, the “John Paul II generation,” is considerably more conservative than their parents. Perhaps there really is a change in the outlook of young Catholics, or perhaps it is simply that absolutes are always appealing to the idealism of youth. But half of those young Catholics are female, and in America they live in a culture that tells them they can pursue any career, any ambition they might have, while the Church tells them something different.

Dogma or mutable policy? Clearly, this isn’t a debate that is going to go away, and the succession of a new Pope is always an occasion for renewed discussion on matters of faith and the practices of the Church. What the nine new female priests and deacons ordained on July 25th have done is to move the debate squarely to the North American continent. Is this a brave move, an act of “ecclesiastical disobedience” akin to civil rights activities in the U.S. south in the 1960s, or is it an example of misguided women poking their fingers in the eye of the Vatican with a publicity stunt?

Regardless of one’s view on the matter, it is clear that there really has been no dialog on the issue, since “no” generally has been the extent of any conversation. It would be refreshing to see the argument framed in theological and historical terms, rather than cut off with the apostolic “nuclear option” of dogmatic pronouncement. If a dialog is not entered, we may indeed be sure that at least one side will continue speaking. The boat is not going to stop rocking now, and the waters are unlikely to become calmer.

-PMOS