Showing posts with label John Chrysostom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Chrysostom. Show all posts

Monday, July 4, 2016

Here's One To Rattle A Few Cages: Deaconesses

Pope Francis says a lot of things that get under the skin of the Katholik Krazies.  The comments about many (if not most) contemporary marriages being invalid because so many people today don’t understand—and consequently cannot make—lifelong commitment is only one thing.  His recent agreement to authorize a study about women deacons is another—and probably even more threatening.
The reason that women deacons are such a threat to the established (and, let’s me hones, patriarchal) Church order is that the diaconate is the firewall to the priesthood.  Ordination to the diaconate is the final step before Ordination to priesthood, and to ordain women to the diaconate—well, dollars to maniples, it is only a matter of time before we will see women being ordained priests and bishops. At least this is what the krazies fear—and, frankly, I think they are right.  Once we are used to the sight of a woman in an alb and stole standing at the altar, our emotional prejudices against women in the ordained ministries will somewhat quickly evaporate.  As a faithful Catholic I will agree that the priesthood (and episcopate) is closed to women; as a historian I have to say that the trajectory of history says it is only a matter of time. 
Deaconesses are mentioned as early as Paul’s letter to the Romans which refers to Phoebe as a deaconess.  (The Greek text uses this word but—at the insistence of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Catholic translations usually use the word “servant”—which is a literal translation of the Greek and which can be applied as well to male deacons.)  Both Christian writers (Clement of Alexandria and Origen) and pagan writers (Pliny the Younger) refer to deaconesses in the Christian communities.  Saints Basil, John Chrysostom, and Gregory of Nyssa all refer to ordained deaconesses and their ministry as well. 
Traditionalists acknowledge that there were deaconesses in the early Church but they claim that a deaconess is not a woman deacon, that deacons and deaconesses are two distinct offices and that the deaconesses did not share in the sacramental character attributed to deacons.  That question bears study but we need a very careful monitum (that’s Latin for “warning” for those, including some of our younger clergy, who like to pray in Latin but don’t understand a word of it).  We cannot attribute the 21st century theological understanding of the Sacrament of Orders which we embrace to the Church of the third, fourth, and fifth centuries.  Our theology has evolved considerably—and in this case especially with the work of Saint Thomas Aquinas and the scholastic (and neo-scholastic) theologians who follow him and who for centuries now have held the balance of power in Catholic theological thought.  We must compare the deaconesses of late antiquity, not to how we understand deacons today but to how the Church of the late Roman world (and also the Byzantine world where women deacons continued to function until about the 12th century) understood male deacons in their day.  Did the Church of those early centuries consider deaconesses to be women deacons or did they understand them to be in a “separate and unequal” position? 
On the one hand, deacons and deaconesses had distinctly different ministries. Deaconesses were assigned ministry to women where male deacons would not have been accepted.  In the Roman world women were always under the “protection” of a male—their fathers until marriage, then their husband, and in their widowhood their eldest surviving son.  A woman had no status before the law and could neither sue nor be sued—the legal burden fell on the man under whose protection she dwelt.  In such an environment it was necessary that certain ministrations to women, especially to the sick and the enfeebled and to women in childbirth, be carried out by a woman who could move comfortably around a Roman household.  But in fact, male deacons were designated for the care of the poor and the sick as well so the major difference was not the work but to whom they ministered.  Women deacons, unlike men deacons, did not directly participate in liturgical leadership.  The women’s choir was under their direction but they themselves did not step forward to proclaim the Gospel.  But again, it would have been considered inappropriate for a woman to have entered the all-male presbyterium where the clergy took their places around the altar.  Women deacons did have a liturgical role however in the sacrament of Baptism where they performed the actual baptism of women as the men deacons baptized the males. 
As the Roman world dissolved into the chaos of the Barbarian West the legal and social distinctions between women and men also dissolved.  Women were much more free to interact with men as equals—and even superiors—and the need for separate ministers for women became less pressing. At the same time in the West baptism by immersion began to be replaced by pouring or sprinkling and nudity was not required for the baptismal candidates, removing the need for women to be baptized by women.  The female diaconate survived however primarily in monastic communities where the abbess and perhaps a few senior nuns were still set apart (to avoid using the controversial word “ordained”) as deaconesses.  They wore the stole and maniple as did male deacons and sang the Gospel during the liturgical offices (and seemingly at Mass should no male deacon be present) though they sung it from within their choir and not from the presbyterium.  Deaconesses lasted somewhat later in the Eastern Churches—in public churches perhaps until the seventh century and in monastic communities until the 12th.  But like in the West, as the primary function of the deacon became strictly liturgical, women were increasingly excluded. 
A curious vestige of the female diaconate has survived in the Western Church were the hermit-nuns of the Carthusian Order—the most secluded of the monastic orders—still receive at their final profession of vows the stole and maniple.  These nuns also still sing the Gospel during the Night Offices.   

Deacons are ordained and receive the Sacrament of Holy Orders but they do not receive nor participate in the priesthood (as do presbyters and bishops) other than to the extent and manner in which all the baptized faithful share in the Priesthood of Jesus Christ as members of God’s Priestly People.  One can still maintain, therefore, the current teaching of the Church that participation in the hierarchical Priesthood of the Episcopate—in which the presbyters (priests) share—is reserved by Divine Law to men and favor the ordination of women to the diaconate.  But my earlier point that the cultural barriers against admitting women to the ordained priesthood will evaporate as we accommodate to women deacons stands.  The opposition to women deacons is because the all-male diaconate is the firewall that protects an all-male priesthood. 

Friday, August 24, 2012

A Heresy Still With Us


Archbishop Fenelon, a
saintly proponent of the
Quietist Heresy

In a recent post (August 19), I mentioned the heresy of Quietism.  Quietism basically posits that the soul, when it comes to its perfection, is completely at rest in and submissive to the Will of God and that spiritual and moral perfection consists in this state of absorption in the Divine.  Many of the great mystics such as Saint Teresa of Avila and Saint John of the Cross speak of the union of the Soul with God as the pinnacle of prayer—but they don’t define that union as perfection but take the spiritual journey further to where the soul is transformed in its loving union with God and by its loving union with God so that it, the soul, can love with the same love with which God loves.  That may be confusing, but let’s put it this way—for the Quietists the soul gets off the train a station early, preferring to “rest quietly” in the love of God rather than continue on to its destiny of loving God and (and this is crucial,) neighbor.  This is what was meant by the quote of Innocent XI condemning Quietism in my previous entry (August 1) by speaking about two bishops who were proponents of this heresy—that the one prelate loved God too much while the other loved his neighbor too little. Quietism falls into the trap of focusing solely on the love of God without due concern for love of neighbor.    
Quietism still exists in the Church today—and in fact is quite alive and well in contemporary Christianity.  The “Christian” whose concern is for ritual and ceremony while ignoring questions of poverty and injustice is typical of the Quietist heresy.   The “evangelical” whose concern is with the “Law of God” and so is anxious to prevent same-sex marriage and abortion but who has indifference to the sufferings of those at the lowest end of the socio-economic scale is yet another.  Indeed, evangelicalism has long been associated with Quietism—a tragic fate for genuine evangelicalism.  In the centuries old struggle of Protestantism to maintain the doctrine of salvation by faith alone, the inherent relationship between faith and works has been lost and a pseudo-Christianity that permits charity and justice to be optional characteristics of discipleship has emerged.  This was only exaggerated in the American experience by untrained lay preachers in 19th century Methodism where faith came to be measured by religious or pious “feeling” rather than by concrete commitment to practical discipleship.   Even Catholics have fallen under the spell of what is truly the great American heresy—“feeling” religion.  Whether it is the “liberal” who wants the emotional high of a frantic and frenetic liturgy with drums and dancing or a pseudo-traditionalist who thinks that for the Mass to be the “most beautiful thing this side of heaven” it must be in Latin and facing the wall, “form over substance Catholicism” reflects the Quietist tendency to let one’s feelings be the guide of all things good and holy.  There is, in fact, nothing inherently wrong (nor inherently more sacred) with the Drum and Dancing Mass or the Solemn Tridentine Mass or any Liturgy on the spectrum between.  We each have our own preference for worship style, but what our Catholic faith demands in its orthodoxy is a relationship with God in which we mature beyond our pious comforts and find ourselves purified of the desires for our personal spiritual consolations so that we may be totally at the disposal of God’s Will for us to love our neighbor not merely on the natural level of human affection but on the Supernatural level of Charity—that is, of loving others with the Love that fills God’s Own heart and not merely with the emotions that spring from ours.  A Christianity which ignores the requirements of societal justice (notice, I am avoiding the more narrow term “social justice”) is off track when it comes to orthodoxy. It brings to mind the axiom of Saint John Chrysostom
"Do you wish to honour the body of Christ? Do not neglect it when you find it naked. Do not do it homage here in the church with silk fabrics only to neglect it outside where it suffers cold and nakedness”.  
I say this in the context of visiting a parish that was once known for its commitment to make concrete the principles outlined by the Social Justice magisterium as found in Mater et Magistra, Gaudium et Spes, and Popolorum Progressio but now where the priest busies himself only with a wide range of pious devotions.  A parish that ten years ago was packed out for three liturgies on Sunday now has two Masses with a combined attendance of less than 300.  The pastor is proud that they have adoration every day and a variety of novena devotions for each day of the week, but it is clear that they have lost their sense of mission and consequently have lost the essence of the Gospel.  There is nothing wrong with a devotional life, but prayer that is meant only to engender pious feelings and does not impel us from the Church into the World armed with the Good News of Jesus Christ and a compassion for the least of his brothers and sisters is not true prayer and is not our Catholic heritage.