Always Reforming

Here we are, on Reformation Sunday in the Anglican church with an Anglo-Catholic-Lutheran pastor/priest! That’s quite a combination, don’t you think? Not sure if I’m the right person to preach today, so I’m going to enlist the help of all the Lutherans here. What does Reformation Sunday mean to you? Why do we celebrate it? How has your church marked this day in the past? And what about Anglicans? Was there an Anglican Reformation in the 16th century? (Yes)

In the past month we watched the movie Luther with our Confirmation students and interested parishioners. The movie gave a fairly good account of the turmoil in the 16th century and the religious and social, cultural and political forces that lead to Martin Luther’s rise and his bold stance against Rome. Luther sparked a heated debate with his questions, some of which we don’t seem to get so worked up about today. But in the 16th century, when the church had absolute power and control over people’s lives, Luther’s questions and analyses caused a firestorm: were people to seek salvation for their souls through blindly obeying the Church  or by freely to reading the Scriptures for themselves and to find their salvation through faith in Christ Jesus? Did their hope for heaven come simply from being a card-carrying Catholic or through a direct relationship with their risen Lord? Sadly polemics and politics fostered a growing animosity between Rome and the Reformers.

Many of Luther’s concerns voiced in his 95 Theses in 1517 remained unaddressed for a good 400 years. Finally, in the mid-20th century the RC Church conceded that Luther was right on quite a few points. The Second Vatican Council (1960’s) implemented changes that Martin Luther would have wholeheartedly approved of today. Luther is rightly credited for being the father of religious freedom, from which now stems our ability to see God at work even in other faith traditions.

One important dictum that Rome embraced at Vatican II is: Ecclesia semper reformanda est which is Latin for “the church must always be reformed.” It refers to the conviction that the church must continually re-examine itself in order to remain faithful to the Gospel in doctrine, worship and practice, so as to speak Good News into every time and place.

Thankfully, much has happened in the past 100 years to recover and renew the bonds between church traditions. We can see this locally, regionally and globally. The Lutheran-Anglican Full Communion Covenant, which makes our local partnership possible, the various bi-lateral ecumenical dialogues, the meaningful celebrations last year of the 500th Anniversary. We’re finally burying our ecclesial hatchets. and recognize Christ’s presence and witness in one another – finally.

But remember the Latin phrase I just used: Ecclesia semper reformanda est “the church must always be reformed.” The church must continually re-examine itself in order to remain faithful to the Gospel in doctrine, worship and practice, so as to be able to speak into human dilemmas in every time and space. And so while Martin Luther’s hotly debated questions have finally found some common answers, new questions and challenges have emerged, both inside and outside the church, some of them with a vengeance similar to Luther’s time.

This was evident in Rome – again – in the past month, where an extensive Synod on Youth and Vocations took place. For three solid weeks bishops, priests and religious, young delegates male and female, spoke boldly and loudly about today’s salient questions: the massive migrations of peoples leading to poverty and exploitation, the brutal forms of global violence and animosity which seem to have no end, increasingly hurting and killing innocent people; the challenging realities of LGBTQ people and the churches’ response; the role of women and visible minorities in church and society; secularization, religious pluralism and the church; the fallout from the global clerical sexual abuse crisis, resulting in massive breakdown of trust in and credibility of organized religion; the need for accountability of bishops and all spiritual leaders, and the questionable value of enforced celibacy; racism and colonialism, climate change and eco-injustice hurting Indigenous peoples everywhere the most; the revolution of global communications and social media (akin to the invention of the printing press in Luther’s time), the economic, social and cultural pressures on our youth who feel unequipped and in serious need of solid guidance; the exodus from organized religion by the young (and some old too), the pressing need for the church to listen more than to teach … and on and on and on …

The young delegates minced no words and left no stone unturned – their voices, with the thunder reminiscent of Martin Luther himself, spelled urgency on all fronts. Their list of grievances and challenges, both internal and external to the church, are different than in the 16th century. Yet their list almost sounds like a new version of Luther’s 95 theses.

The youth in Rome pressed the need for substantial reform inside the church in order to meet the challenges of the new world order, in order to make the Gospel sound anew, fresh and inviting, capable to speak to the human heart today once again. Many of these challenges are shared among all Christian traditions. Some observers have already called this moment in history as ripe for another Reformation – hopefully one that will not lead to further fracturing of the Body of Christ.

How would Martin Luther speak into the challenges and crises of our day, and how the Church needs to respond? In two ways. First, Luther would go to the Scriptures as his primary tool for assessing life and seeking God’s guidance. How does the Holy Word of God summon us to address our modern-day challenges and questions? Second, Luther would be unafraid to speak boldly about sin. Addressing the prevalence of sin in each of our hearts remains an essential part of Lutheran witness – that’s why Lutheran worship begins with Confession.

But speaking of sin is kind of a hard sell these days. We hear often that it is no longer fashionable or relevant to speak of sin, that the word/concept is outdated. Naming things sinful today is considered offensive and off-putting (and so it should, right? Was it ever otherwise?). But without an honest reckoning with the reality of sin (what it is, what it isn’t, what to do about it), we become, subtly but surely, less honest with the truth. Without the courage to name and own sin, especially as defined by God’s Holy Word and Christ’s witness, as we hear again in today’s words from Paul’s letter to the Romans and from John’s Gospel, we risk making a mockery of the Gospel. Without the humility and honesty to name sin, we cannot be set free by God’s saving action in Christ Jesus.

Luther argued that sin was a pervasive condition expressed in our daily failure to love God and neighbour rightly, to which we add today a failure to love and treasure creation. Sin cuts through every quality of our being. But Luther also knew that the all-pervasive, subtle yet cruel selfishness that drives every one of us cannot be quantified into a grocery list of wrongful actions.

Sin is much deeper than a grocery list, and we can do nothing to make it better; only God can in Christ Jesus. God does not parcel out mercy to the qualified; because none of us qualify, none of us. God pours out forgiveness on the needy – and that’s all of us. For Luther, there was no compromising this good news.

We receive Christ’s mercy freely, but not cheaply. Being called to account is never easy but it is worth the struggle, so that we may know the power of Christ’s cross and the fullness of His love. There is forgiveness and new life for the taking 24/7. This assurance is what Lutherans, faithful to Luther’s discovery in his personal struggle, can still offer to the church and the world today. And this is why, on this 501st Reformation Sunday, the prayer we prayed earlier in our service today is so important, so relevant and so necessary. The words apply to each of us personally and to our beloved church family in the whole world. In light of today’s massive challenges and crises in both church and world, let us pray this prayer together:

Gracious God,
we pray for your holy catholic church
which includes all of us.
Fill us with all truth and peace.
Where we are corrupt, purify us;
where we are in error, correct us;
where we are amiss, reform us:
where we are right, strengthen us;
where we are in need, provide for us;
where we are divided, reunite …
AMEN

Homily preached on October 28, 2018 — Reformation Sunday.
Jeremiah 31:31-34, Psalm 46, Romans 3:19-28, John 8:31-36

Prairie Encounters

Thank you for reading this reflection. For private comments, use the Contact Form below; for public comments scroll down further and use the space below “Leave a Reply.”

Advertisements

Falling from Grace

The Grand Jury spoke while I was on a well-deserved holiday and anticipating my God-daughter’s wedding. Its gruesome verdict hit me in the stomach like a rock from outer space, burrowing deep grooves of anger and horror into my mind-heart-spirit, blowing the holiday fun to smithereens. What to say about the Pennsylvania Report with its graphic X-rated details? First, Holy Scripture lept to my mind:

When one member suffers, all suffer. (1 Corinthians 12:25-26)
Be very careful how you live. (Ephesians 5:15-18)
If anyone one causes but one of these little ones to stumble … (Matthew 18:6)
Discern the Body … before sharing the holy food and drink (1 Corinthians 11:29)

Next came the claims made by Rome throughout the centuries, now sounding like hollow echoes of a past era:
No salvation outside the church …
The fullness of the church exists in the Roman Catholic Church …
Priests act in persona Christi
Jesus is the only way …
The deposit of the only true Eucharist and Holy Orders …

If any RC priest dared to ignore this report in his homily the Sunday following its publication, it would only increase the betrayal and hypocrisy, delivering yet another death knell to an institution that has stood as a bulwark for Truth, claiming the exclusive corner on salvation, shepherding a global flock with a benign patriarchal/fatherly hand – or so many thought.

Now, with razor-sharp precision, the emperor is stripped of its regal clothes. The only posture worthy of any honesty is raw transparency and tearful humility on the part of every priest, deacon and bishop, guilty or not, but nevertheless complicit in a system that concealed more than it revealed. The dark destructive shadows crushing vulnerable souls are now emerging under the scrutinizing, merciless light of justice and truth. Men who saw it their duty to tie heavy burdens around the necks of God’s good people, ordinary folk struggling to live with integrity and decency, are now hanging in the scales of justice. Men who acted “in persona Christi,” claiming exclusive powers to consecrate/transform and administer the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation did so with deviant hearts, filled with the filth of soul-destroying behaviour, the details of which are too horrific to recount. Be careful how you live, warned St. Paul. Be careful how you live, warned the Fathers and custodians of the faith. Be careful …

While many reports of clergy sexually abusing minors have been released in the past decades, this report somehow has an acid core: never before has the dichotomy between saint and sinner been depicted so graphically and detestably. Never before has anything cast such shameful light on the immaturity and irresponsibility of men – underdeveloped, weak and terrified of their own humanity – intoxicated with ecclesiastical power deformed by an institutional harnass of an all-male celibate priesthood that ended up choking them softly and sweetly, taking unsuspecting innocent lives with them.

I feel like throwing up … We desperately need an ecclesial #MeToo movement as well as an ecclesial Truth and Reconciliation process. How come such secular initiatives keep arising from outside the very institution that claims the preferential option for the poor and vulnerable and abused, and that claims to be all about truth and healing, justice and reconciliation in Christ Jesus? The betrayal and hypocrisy are simply too much to comprehend … Shell-shocked bishops are fumbling inadequate responses, priests are becoming hesitant about wearing their collar in public. All of a sudden, Catholics are wondering: are you one of them too? How deep and wide does this virus go?

Is the institutional church collapsing under the weight of its false certainties? Is this the same church that nourished my faith and guided my life in such meaningful ways? Is this the same church in which my own priestly calling was awakened despite its own refusal to bless that call? The dominoes are falling, the structures are crumbling — the Emperor has no clothes … No words, just kneeling in bewilderment, breathing heavily in between the sobs of my spirit, prayerfully whispering that haunting hymn our own Leonard Cohen has given us in prophetic poetry, with a much-needed addition:

O gather up the brokenness, and bring it to me now
The fragrance of those promises you never dared to vow
The splinters that you carry, the cross you left behind
Come healing of the body, come healing of the mind

And let the heavens hear it the penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit, come healing of the limb

Behold the gates of mercy in arbitrary space
And none of us deserving the cruelty or the grace

O solitude of longing where love has been confined
Come healing of the body, come healing of the mind

O see the darkness yielding that tore the light apart
Come healing of the reason, come healing of the heart

O troubled dust concealing an undivided love
The heart beneath is teaching to the broken heart above

Let the heavens falter, let the earth proclaim
Come healing of the altar, come healing of the name

O longing of the branches to lift the little bud
O longing of the arteries to purify the blood

And let the heavens hear it, the penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit, come healing of the limb

And while the structures crumble, just let the women speak
Come healing of the humble, come healing of the weak

O let the heavens hear it, the penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit, come healing of the limb

On August 20, 2018, Pope Francis published a Letter to All the Faithful.

Here is a poignant commentary on Pope Francis’ letter that articulates many of my own deepest feelings and emotions.

An agonizing reflection by a faithful Catholic is here.

For those who seek a broader historical analysis to how we got here, read Massimo Faggioli‘s thoughtful piece.

And then there is our own Canadian Senator Murray Sinclair. This is what he has to say in a CBC article on the pope asking for forgiveness in regards to revelations of abuse of children by priests in Pennsylvania:

This makes me wonder why such a request for forgiveness was not made of the several thousand Survivors of Canada’s Indian Residential Schools who were abused by priests. Less than 1000 non-Indigenous children in Pennsylvania apparently are entitled to the Pope’s personal request for forgiveness, but when given the chance, he declined to issue even a simple apology to the many thousand more Indigenous victims in Canada. Survivors are being abused once again.

August 27, 2018. Another agonizing reflection on: “Why stay?”

Prairie Encounters

Thank you for reading this reflection. For private comments, use the Contact Form below; for public comments scroll down further and use the space below “Leave a Reply.”

The Ordaining Church

I looked out over the crowd that had filled the Anglican Cathedral on an ordinary Thursday evening. I was amazed, surprised, overwhelmed. They had come, from everywhere, in droves: friends and family, colleagues and ecumenical co-workers. The church catholic was present in its fullest sense: Pentecostal, Baptist, Mennonite, United, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Anglican and Roman Catholic (with the exception of the Orthodox tradition*). Especially Roman Catholic: a sea of them along with religious sisters, several priests and one higher ranking official. The happy grins spoke volumes: I was not the only one who had looked forward to this moment.

In the midst of this ecumenical community of faith I claimed my call before the bishop, made vows and promises, and knelt for the “holy huddle” – Anglican, Lutheran, United and Presbyterian clergy colleagues as well as two RC priests joining the bishop in the solemn laying on of hands.

Ordained a priest. I still struggle to find the words. The impact of the experience was profound. It was profound in my own heart-mind-spirit, in my experience of church, and in the effects upon my current ministry. Given the ecumenical make-up of the assembly that night, I felt truly ordained by and into the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church in the fullest sense of that term. I have not recovered from the experience – and I hope I never will.

I have always been mindful of the faith community’s role when one claims a call to ministry; one is called by and for the community, never for oneself. Now this crucial role was expressed in the most tangible way possible – the community’s presence and participation was their fiat. A deepening and affirmation, blessing and mandate all rolled into one holy Spirit-filled act of ordination. No wonder I still struggle to find words.

The next morning I presided over the (Anglican) Holy Eucharist for the first time in a Catholic retreat center, which included a renewal of marriage vows for Jim and I – it was our wedding anniversary. Like the night before, the people of God in all denominational diversity packed the worship space, hungering for a taste of heaven where divisions and barriers melt away: take and eat, take and drink, all of you.

Maybe a number of firsts occurred: RC clergy joining in the laying on of hands, one of whom bowing his head for my first priestly blessing; a religious sister leading music at the Anglican Eucharist the next morning while persons from various traditions served as acolyte, readers, communion assistants; communion bread baked by an Anglican-RC couple; those with different beliefs finding a space of respect and hospitality while getting caught up in the joy and gratitude of the occasion.

That I may at last taste the joy of fulfilling this vocation still feels like a miracle. What seemed elusive for several decades has come to pass. At the same time it was always there, for the priestly call lived in my heart as an animating light, a wellspring of grace and love. For this was the peculiar thing: despite the church’s prohibition, the call persisted. Moreover, despite the fear and self-doubt, the call grew me on the inside in ways that bore all the fruits of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. (Gal. 5:22-23)

A priestly vocation originates at the deepest level of one’s being, which is one’s essence. Roman Catholic sacramental theology calls it an ontological reality, an indelible mark on the soul. Years ago I spoke with a Roman Catholic friend who had left the priesthood because, as he said, he had all the external affirmation but none of the internal reality. To which I replied with new insight, “Yes, and I have all the internal reality but none of the external blessing/affirmation.” “I know,” he replied. Surprised, we looked intently at one another with waves of recognition, understanding and respect.

And so when the final report on the validity of my priestly call was issued by the national Anglican Church’s assessment body, a year ago now, opening the path to ordination, the tears refused to stop:

We find Marie-Louise to have a clear sense of call to the priesthood, a call which has developed in extraordinary circumstances over the past 27 years … This growing sense of call took place in the context of a lifelong faithful involvement in the Roman Catholic Church.

Marie-Louise has an impressive history of lay ministry in the Roman Catholic Church, demonstrating visionary leadership in the development of numerous ministries, which responded to particular needs in the church. Her involvement in ecumenical initiatives is most remarkable, beginning many years ago with studies at the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Saskatoon.

We were impressed with her deep Christian faith and her struggle over many years to be faithful both to the ecclesial tradition she has grown up in and her growing sense of call to priestly ministry. We affirm Marie-Louise’s call to the priesthood. She is a passionate servant of Christ and has a sincere desire to serve God in an Anglican context. (ACPO Report, May 2017)

No matter which denomination does the ordaining, the ontological truth, the imprint on the soul, presses deep; it feels like coming home to one’s true self. Even my friend Carmen, just ordained last month in the Pentecostal tradition, speaks of this reality in her recent blog reflection.

What’s more, nothing is wasted in God’s economy. I am now pastoring two rural parishes, Anglican and Lutheran. All the pieces of my life’s puzzle have come together: formation and ministry experiences of the past 27+ years are all bearing fruit in these two small parishes on the Canadian prairies – who would have thought.

Living Christian discipleship in the Anglican household of God now is opening new spiritual vistas and blessings. My heart is growing larger, unfolding like an expanding universe. My capacity to live from contradictions into paradox and relational truth is being stretched, deepened and refined. How do I know all this is from God? Because my joy has never been deeper, my love has never been more costly and intently, my spirit has never been more generous, my peace has never been more solid, even in the midst of chaos and turmoil.

Meanwhile my Roman Catholic family of origin continues to occupy a cherished place in my heart; in her bosom my faith was nourished and my vocation was born against all odds. I truly live a double belonging. The increasing opportunities for joint ministry with my local Catholic priest and his parishioners are therefore sources of deep joy and immense gratitude, weaving unity in my spirit and among our people.

We don’t make journeys like this in isolation. I extend therefore a heartfelt thanks for the company and friendship, prayers and support of so many on this road towards priestly ministry. It truly takes a community to call a priest/pastor. Pray that I will continue to fulfill this sacred trust faithfully, placing my priesthood at the service of the full visible unity of God’s one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.

  • This is an expanded version of the last column (May 9, 2018) in a twelve month series entitled Double Belonging, co-published by the Prairie Messenger (ceasing publication) and the Saskatchewan Anglican from May 2017 to May 2018.
  • * The Orthodox tradition is active in ecumenical dialogues and circles, but my personal connections do not include many members of this branch of the Christian family.

    Prairie Encounters
    Thank you for reading this reflection. For private comments, use the Contact Form below; for public comments scroll down further and use the space below “Leave a Reply.”

Ordination Musings

I cannot help but share some musings on this coming Pentecost Sunday when I will be ordained a deacon in the Anglican Church (priesthood in late fall). This has been a long journey, some 25 years! But I would not have traded it for anything. Because through all the seasons of faithful and at times painful obedience, of death and newness of life, I have grown a solid relationship with God through Jesus Christ – oh happy fault. It is this intimate faith relationship that has helped me say ‘YES’ to God over and over again:

[Our] ‘yes’ to life may initially be a passive ‘yes’, born of lassitude and of regrets, but it can eventually become a ‘yes’ of openness, of acceptance, a ‘yes’ of joy. This ‘yes’ to life, which springs from the deepest part of us, is not a naïve or idealistic ‘yes’’; it is not saying yes to a dream or illusion. It is a ‘yes’ to our deepest self, a ‘yes’ to our past, to our body, to our family, a ‘yes’ to our inner storms, our winters, our pain; a ‘yes’ also to the beauty of life, to sunshine, to fresh air, to running water, to children’s faces, to the song of birds. It is the ‘yes, to our destiny and our growth. It is the ‘yes’ to our own true beauty, even if, at certain times, we cannot see it.  ~ Jean Vanier

It is mightily unsettling for a faithful Roman Catholic woman to encounter a deep intimate call to preaching and to priestly ministry. For a long time I made heroic efforts to talk myself out of it, dancing circles around it in persistent and creative ways – lay ministry is a valid contribution to the church (I still believe that), I had simply been among the Lutherans (and Anglicans) too long for my own good, I was not at the seminary for political reasons (e.g. advancing the cause for women’s ordination in the RC church) but to obtain a post-graduate degree in Pastoral Counselling etc. etc. Every lame explanation concealed my heart’s cry, echoing Jeremiah: do not call me, O God, I am only a Roman Catholic woman. Believe it or not, but for too long I placed ecclesial belonging before God’s will, even though fullness of life lie waiting in the embracing of the priestly vocation.

No surprise then that none of my escape efforts, or the labels I attempted to give my inner experience,  or the feedback from the faith community, or the response I tried to give God, succeeded in fulfilling the desire inside; in spite of that I soldiered on claiming a “call within a call,” i.e. to live an ordained calling/reality in a non-ordained capacity in the RC church for prophetic reasons; it was noble and took courage grounded in prayer.

A dozen years ago I stepped back from my RC involvements to enter an intense love affair with the Anglican tradition, in the hope of finding a new church home and to fulfill my calling. However, while the call to ordained ministry enjoyed strong affirmation, the denominational transition did not. In my heart of hearts I simply could not transfer with the integrity both the Anglican tradition and myself deserved. So after a 1 ½ year discernment period I re-entered RC professional ministry, hoping against all hope that there was more that God needed me to live as a Roman Catholic woman in ministry, however challenging that would be. But God indeed is faithful. Sure enough, there was more …

Yet even in the six years of rewarding pastoral ministry in a large RC parish, ecumenical engagement remained my primary nourishing and affirming faith community. I contended myself with a wide range of ministry opportunities from preaching in Protestant churches to offering retreats at a RC retreat center. And I enjoyed some extremely respectful and supportive friendships with Catholic priests and bishops with whom I worked well and could share details of my inner priestly landscape.

Despite a wide range of ministry opportunities, which afforded much joy and satisfaction, the priestly nature of the call continued to assert itself. Consciously grounding my ministry in the priestly charism, a charism which grew stubbornly in my heart in near-desert conditions, directly increased my capacity to love all people, to serve all people, to offer wise, patient and compassionate counsel to those in need. I derived a deep and abiding joy from my ministry which, while not sacramental in the traditional sense, nevertheless provided profound sacramental moments and dynamics.

The priestly charism served as a guiding light, providing rich soil for my personal prayer life; it provided the locus of meaning and purpose as I reflected on, prayed with and interpreted my ministerial experiences; finally, the faith community always managed to recognize, call forth and affirm the priestly nature of my being. I discovered the ontological nature of this sacred calling and that I could live it creatively even in a non-ordained capacity.

While settling into this reality as permanent, God was clearly not finished with me yet. A few years ago, I gladly accepted to lead worship and preach in my local Anglican parish (to which I remained very close since that first Anglican courtship) when its priest retired. My heart leaped for joy and lo and behold, the deep desire for ordination, to preside at the Eucharist and celebrate the sacraments, once again rose to the surface like cream on fresh milk. Its perennial newness and depth, beauty and intensity caught me off guard, revealing a sweet authenticating power pressed from the many years of cross and resurrection this calling had challenged me to embrace.

Ten years had passed since that first Anglican love-affair; I was now in a different place spiritually, emotionally and psychologically, with a lot more pastoral and ecumenical experience under my belt. This time God and my own heart released me; I fell into an unreserved yes with such fullness and joy, the likes of which I had not tasted since I uttered the “yes” to my spouse some 38 years previously. The joy, peace and clarity moved in swiftly, communicating an unmistakable affirmation and blessing.

I am discovering that nothing is wasted for our God whose love and guidance is steadfast and reliable, provided we keep our hearts open and soft to God’s merciful touch. But a priestly calling is never intended for the person nor for personal holiness; it is instead intended to serve the faith community. I have been acutely aware of this constitutive aspect of my vocational experience, and thus suffered from the withholding of that ecclesial blessing despite the manifold surprising ministry opportunities I have enjoyed over those same years. So to now receive the much longed-for ecclesial recognition of this vocation is overwhelming beyond words.

Moreover, I am profoundly grateful for my new ecclesial home in the Anglican tradition while I continue to cherish deep affection and healthy relational ties with my Roman Catholic faith family, my ecclesial birth home. The Anglican tradition has ample room for my Catholic heart and for my Protestant leanings. The Anglican expression of Christian discipleship has gifts and challenges that I need in my spiritual walk at this time. At the same time, I come bearing gifts of my own along with a willingness to serve the Body of Christ in the Anglican church family as well as continue to give my best efforts to the quest for UNITY in this same Body of Christ, the church universal.

DeaconMLT4

Finally, I am immensely grateful to our local ecumenical Women-in-Ministry group. This group of valiant women are faithful servants of Christ who serve in a variety of ministry roles across a wide denominational spectrum. Their friendship and support, their joyful witness and disarming capacity for mingling both sad and happy tears have been a source of soul-food, joy and inspiration to me. I am amazed that we are in our tenth year monthly lunches! Many friendships and professional partnerings have had their genesis in that small dining room at Queen’s House. And it doesn’t look like the lunches will cease anytime soon!

 

Diaconate_1And so my soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.

For God has looked upon this lowly servant
and called me blessed.

(adapted, Luke 1:46-48)

For more photos of the ordination, go to my Facebook Page

Prairie Encounters

Thank you for reading this reflection. For private comments, use the Contact Form below; for public comments scroll down further and use the space below “Leave a Reply.”

No again … and Yet …

It has been a heady month of October on the global ecumenical front, in no small way thanks to Pope Francis. A man of action, and cognizant of the power of gesture and relationship, Francis spent October 2016 — inaugurating the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation — in key encounters with leaders from the Orthodox Church, the Anglican Communion, and the Lutheran World Federation (LWF). Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby and LWF President Bishop Mounib Younan both signed Joint Statements with Pope Francis; a Joint Statement with the Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill was signed earlier this year. Each statement confesses the sins of conflict and strife over the past 500 years (1000 years in case of the Orthodox!), reaffirms Christ’s own animating and salvific presence in one another’s traditions, and commits its leaders and faithful to new paths of joint witness, prayer and mission. Without glossing over disagreements still present, each statement includes a clear commitment to address these differences by “walking together” as one Body of Christ.

These are no small matters. This is history in the making. Publicly signing formal agreements at the highest ecclesial levels has clout and raises the bar to a new level. Many are bursting with joy and relief, praise and thanks to God at this monumental development in the Bblessingwelbyfrancisody of Christ. Our church leaders are now able to admit that historical and theological divisions, though painful and full of conflict at the time, nevertheless have enjoyed the blessing of God’s Spirit as evident in the particular charisms, strengths and gifts of each tradition: Lutheran, Anglican, Roman, Methodist, Presbyterian, Mennonite, United and later on the family of Pentecostal and Evangelical Churches. Not everything is resolved, to be sure, but our conflict-ridden world is in dire need of concrete global examples of reconciliation and healing. The Christian family has a particular responsibility in this area as we claim to follow our Lord and role model, God’s own Son Jesus Christ, who came to “reconcile the world to himself” (2 Cor. 5:19) and that “all may be one” (John 17:21).

While so many positive steps are being made, it is hard to keep the negative at bay. Dan O’Grady, a psychologist, has been quoted as saying that “our negative and critical thoughts are like Velcro, they stick and hold; whereas our positive and joyful thoughts are like Teflon, they slide away.” A bit of this happened in the aftermath of all these momentous ecumenical gatherings. When interviewed by journalists aboard the papal plane returning from Lund, Sweden, Pope Francis once again reiterated the Roman Catholic ban on the ordination of women. Instantly social media erupted with knee-jerk reactions, expressing outrage and profound disappointment in some quarters and dismay over pestering the Holy Father with this perennial question in other quarters.

That is too bad, for the positive ecumenical steps of the past 50 years can nevertheless provide some important solace, lessening the need for such negative reactions. Let me try to tease out a few.

Pope Francis and Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill hug each other after signing agreements in HavanaFor church traditions who have shared literally centuries of suspicion, judgment and conflict, it is a monumental step to acknowledge Christ’s saving action in one another’s faith and spirituality, liturgy and mission. In other words, Christ is present and active in those ecclesial communities which have developed separately from Rome. This acknowledgement is extended to several major traditions which ordain women, i.e. the Anglican and Lutheran Churches. Rome does not consider itself to have the authority to change its teaching on women’s ordination, but that does not preclude that Christ can work through ordained women in other traditions.

Even acknowledging that the fullness of the church subsists in the Catholic Church (Par. 8, Lumen Gentium) may be quite acceptable to other Christian traditions. The same paragraph in Lumen Gentium adds that “many elements of sanctification and of truth are found outside of its visible structure. These elements, as gifts belonging to the Church of Christ, are forces impelling toward catholic unity.” But the burden of proof and of greater responsibility rests on the one who makes the claim to total fullness.  Just because the “fullness of the church” subsists in the Roman Catholic Church, it does not automatically follow that the same Church lives each aspect of that fullness to its best. Some aspects have gathered dust in obscure corners of the Church’s own archives; other aspects have withered because of neglect. In fact, the Roman Catholic Church’s failure to live that fullness is precisely what may have given rise to other traditions, some of whom live these aspects  better and more faithfully, as articulated eloquently in paragraph 4 of the Decree on Ecumenism (Unitatis Redintegratio). Could it be that ordaining women is one of those aspects?

lund-2016-peace-of-christThe fruit of ecumenical learning leads to a realization that we need all churches together in order to provide a full and complete witness to the Gospel. For the neglect of one church could well be the strength of another, and vice versa. If we could truly realize how much we need each other, then the gifts and graces of one tradition, including ordained women, can serve to hold accountable and guide the other traditions.

My personal response to Pope Francis’ reiterating the ban on the ordination of women is quite simple: “If women are not to be ordained, then please tell God to stop calling us.” God’s calling activity in the heart and mind of a faithful Roman Catholic woman is a mysterious and challenging dance, one which is rarely chosen at will by the woman herself and despite her personal fear and resistance. Rather, it is a dance in which we women (yes, I include myself) feel seduced (in the loveliest sense of that word) by a divine Partner who fuels our human desire for fullness and surrender, for wholeness in ministry despite the official teaching of the Church, a dance which is at the same time recognized by the faith community in surprising and genuine ways despite the prohibition from on high to do so.

There is an authenticating force that arises when one has lived with such a deep divine calling for a lifetime. Such a calling does not rest until it is consummated in ordination as the most complete expression of the gift of one’s very self in service to God’s holy people — an apt example of losing one’s life in order to find it.

Yes, I have moved into another room in the Christian household to pursue this priestly ordination. But I have not left the Christian household. The tradition I have embraced, with valid differences in some key aspects, is nevertheless endowed with many of the gifts and charisms as the one which gave birth to and nurtured my calling so well in the first place, thereby affirming the words in Lumen Gentium. If the ecumenical agreements of the past 50 years mean anything, it is that denominational moves such as mine are no longer the scandal they once were. I am convinced of one thing: Christ is still leading and guiding me, and will continue to bless my journey. What’s more, Rome’s best ecumenical insights now agree with this. Who knows what “new thing” the Holy Spirit can do with this:

God is not afraid of new things! That is why he is continually surprising us, opening our hearts and guiding us in unexpected ways. He renews us: he constantly makes us “new”. A Christian who lives the Gospel is “God’s newness” in the Church and in the world. How much God loves this “newness”! (Pope Francis, homily, October 19, 2014)

We must never forget that we are pilgrims journeying alongside one another. This means that we must have sincere trust in our fellow pilgrims, putting aside all suspicion or mistrust, and turn our gaze to what we are all seeking: the radiant peace of God’s face.” (Pope Francis, Joy of the Gospel, par. 244)

This reflection was also published in the Prairie Messenger, November 16, 2016

Prairie Encounters

Thank you for reading this reflection. For private comments, use the Contact Form below; for public comments scroll down further and use the space below “Leave a Reply.”