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 21^st 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 12^th 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 12^th.  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. 

Francis Is Telling The Truth on Today's Marriages

Aidan’s mother is Presbyterian but has consistently attended Saturday evening Mass with her husband, Pat, in the thirty-two years of their marriage.  In fact she directed the children’s choir in their parish while Aidan and his sister, Aile were in their middle-and high-school years.  Aidan and Aile each were altar servers in their seventh and eighth grade years and graduated, after Confirmation, into being lectors.  Aidan went to the local Jesuit prep-school; Aile to the “Madames” of the Sacred Heart Day School.  During his college years at the University of Delaware, however, Aidan drifted away from regular Mass attendance.  He also met Katie, like him from the D.C. suburbs, and they began dating.

Katie was also from a devout Catholic home.  She is an only child.  Her parents belong to the Cathedral parish of Saint Matthew in Washington where her mother is an Extraordinary Minister of the Eucharist.  Katie graduated from Georgetown Visitation before going to the University of Delaware.  When she began dating Aidan she got him back to Sunday Mass.  They dated in Sophomore and Junior year, but Aidan broke it off over the summer between Junior and Senior year.  He was concerned that Katie was overly dependent on her mother, Frances.  Frances would drive two hours every Tuesday to have lunch with Katie at the University and insisted that Katie come home every weekend. 

During their senior year Aidan and Katie slowly rebuilt their relationship and when Aidan decided to go to Law School in Boston, Katie followed to do her Masters in Math at Boston College.  Katie became very involved at the Paulist Center in Boston where she and Aidan regularly attended Mass every Sunday.  Katie was also on the RCIA team and Aidan became involved in fundraising for the center.  In Aidan’s final year of Law School they became engaged to be married.  They moved in together after they were engaged.  Frances flew up to Boston every-other-weekend.   Pat and Joan (Aidan’s mother) were concerned about Frances’ “apron-strings” but Aidan assured them that he could handle it.   They were also concerned that Aidan seemed unable to make up his own mind with determination and worried that the reconciliation between them in their senior year was little more than Aidan’s tendency to “be a nice guy.”  But in the end they felt they had to respect Aidan’s choices. 

Aidan graduated and passed the Bar for Massachusetts, New York, and Virginia.  Pat and Joan hoped “the kids” would move back to Fairfax but Katie had found a job teaching Math and Physics in a Boston High School and didn’t want to move back.  Aidan, on the other hand, was having trouble finding a position with a Law Firm in Boston though through family connections there were a number of positions available in the D.C. area.

They were married that July after graduation in the Cathedral of Saint Matthew in Washington.  Aidan’s uncle, a religious order priest teaching at Catholic U, said the Mass and presided over the marriage.  A reception for 150 followed at the Washington Country Club.  The two families split the cost of the reception based on the proportion of guests each had invited.  By September Aidan and Katie were back in Boston with Katie teaching and Aidan continuing to do interviews for a position in a law firm.  Meanwhile, Aidan took a position in a foreign currency exchange upstart company.  All seemed to be well though when they came back to the DC area at Christmas Aidan spent most nights at his parents in Fairfax, Katie with her family in Chevy-Chase.  They both spent Christmas Eve with Katie’s family and Christmas Day with Aidan’s. 

It was only in April that Aidan told his parents that Katie had left him in January and moved in with Maggie, the girls’ gym teacher in her Boston High School.   Maggie is gay and the exact nature of her relationship with Katie was never clearly defined.  Aidan felt, however, that Maggie had undermined their marriage from when she and Katie had first met and had told Katie that she (Katie) could move in with her if she ever left Aidan.   Katie stayed with Maggie for six months before moving out and getting an apartment of her own.  She told Aidan she wanted a divorce.

Aidan had been seeing a counselor since the breakup and he repeatedly asked Katie to see a marriage counselor with him but she refused.  He went to Katie’s parents to enlist their help—they too told their daughter to get counseling, but Katie refused.  The marriage was over and there was no room, according to Katie, to negotiate.  Pat and Joan were concerned that Aidan may have done something wrong.  Was their any violence?  Was he dealing with any issues?  Substance abuse?  Pornography addiction?  Aile put out what feelers she could among various friends and acquaintances she shared with Katie but could find no reason for Katie leaving Aidan other than “he wasn’t on the career track that would take them where she thought they should go.”  Aidan’s friends all assured his family that he never was abusive in any way and Katie has never alleged that he was.    

Pat and Joan told Aidan that since the marriage had lasted such a short time, wedding gifts should be returned and this led to an interesting revelation.  Aidan agreed; Katie refused.  But it turned out that Aidan had kept the gifts from his family and friends and Katie had kept hers.  They never established joint finances but each had their own bank accounts.  It turned out that Katie’s parents always had separate finances as well and Katie had refused the idea of joint accounts.  The divorce became final eighteen months after the breakup.

This is a true story.  Some particulars—names and places—have been changed but it is a story from within my own family.  I tell it because I believe Pope Francis is dead on when he says that the idea of permanent commitment escapes the understanding of many—if not most—people today.  Key to this is that I have not exaggerated the Catholicity of either family or the Catholic backgrounds of Katie and Aidan or Katie’s commitment to the Church through her College and Boston years, but note that it was Aidan who fought to keep the marriage.   If these happen when the wood is green, what will happen to the dry? 

Pope Francis’ comments on the instability of modern marriage—and its impact on the validity of the sacrament—stirred up a hornet’s nest among the krazies on the blogosphere, but it is totally consistent with what most of my priest-friends have been saying for years.  Some priests in my acquaintance even say that the Church “should get out of the marrying business.”  I think that would be a sad mistake but there is no doubt that we have a culture problem that is probably beyond the Church’s ability to fix.  I am not sure what the answer is but denial is not part of the solution.  Perhaps the Pope needs to speak out in more detail on this issue so that it is not as easy to retreat into denial.  It certainly explains why he is trying to chart a different course for the pastoral care of the divorced and remarried as the implicit nullity of so many contemporary marriages severely complicates the issue.  

Father Martin, Pope Francis, Amoris Laetitia--Takeaway II

Well to stir up the hornet’s nest, let’s return to Father Martin and his “ten takeaways” from Pope Francis and Amoris Laetitia.  The issue today is the sovereignty of conscience.  In forming our conscience we must pay serious attention to the teaching of the Church—but the teaching of the Church cannot take the place of conscience nor can we be expected to give blind obedience to the teaching of the Church as that would be equivalent to resigning our personal responsibility for making moral decisions.  We need personally and seriously to consider the choices that face us in life.  The Church provides guidance, but it must be our interior adherence to the Holy Spirit that sets our course.   

2. The role of conscience is paramount in moral decision making. “Individual conscience needs to be better incorporated into the church’s practice in certain situations which do not objectively embody our understanding of marriage” (303). That is, the traditional belief that individual conscience is the final arbiter of the moral life has been forgotten here. The church has been “called to form consciences, not to replace them” (37). Yes, it is true, the Pope says, that a conscience needs to be formed by church teaching. But conscience does more than to judge what does or does not agree with church teaching. Conscience can also recognize with “a certain moral security” what God is asking (303). Pastors, therefore, need to help people not simply follow rules, but to practice “discernment,” a word that implies prayerful decision making (304).

Where I think a lot of people go wrong in the process is that they take the teaching of the Church as one opinion among many and do not honestly wrestle with its authoritative angel.  But it is important to acknowledge that at the end of the dark night of struggle, God does ot always grant the victory to the magisterial angel.  

Franz Jäggerstätter was a farmer from Sankt Radegund in Austria.  He was born illegitimate though he was adopted by his mother’s husband after her marriage in 1917 and took his family name.  Jäggerstätter was not a religious, much less devout, youth and in addition to a life of general rowdiness, he himself fathered a daughter out of wedlock.  However in 1936 he married Franziska Schwaninger, a very devout Catholic and himself underwent a personal conversion.  He joined the Third Order of Saint Francis and undertook the duties as Sacristan in his local parish.  He was the only citizen of Sankt Radegund to vote against the Anschluss (the union of Austria to the Third Reich) in 1938 and although he was conscripted into the Army in 1940, his work as a farmer gave him a deferment from service.

As the war progressed Jäggerstätter began to question its morality.  He even had several interviews with his bishop whom he, Jäggerstätter, felt was avoiding the moral issues surrounding the War.  When called up for active service he felt that he could not in conscious serve despite the assurances of both his bishop and parish priest that it was his responsibility to his family and his duty as a citizen.  He was arrested and imprisoned and tried in a military court for the “undermining military morale” by his objections to the legitimacy of the War.   He was executed by guillotine on August 9, 1943.

Even in death he was excoriated by the Church for his conscientious objection.  Remember that in Jäggerstätter’s time the Catholic Church had established no criterion to justify conscientious objection.  His parish priest told him that by putting himself in the position where he would be executed he would be neglecting his duty towards his wife and children.  He died in disgrace and without the support of the Church.  It was only in the 1960’s through the efforts of Gordon Zahn and Thomas Merton that his story became known and he was perceived as a hero of conscience.  He was beatified in 2007 and his feast day is May 21. 

I think today there is no Christian who would disagree with Jäggerstätter that the Nazi cause was sinful and unjust but that is not how it was seen at the time.  To the contrary—the German and Austrian bishops and clergy supported the War and even the Pope was deliberately (and scandalously) vague, if not silent, about the atrocities of the Third Reich.  Jäggerstätter determined his conscience contrary to what he was being told were Catholic principles. 

A simpler example, though far less dramatic, is the one found in the Gospel of Luke (also found in Matthew and Mark) where the Disciples pick grain on the Sabbath to satisfy their hunger.  They were in violation of the Law.  Jesus could see, however, how the Law did not apply in their instance and reprimanded the Pharisees and scribes who criticize them.  This is only one of many examples in the Gospels where Jesus himself sanctions—and even practices—a violation of the Law of Moses because the particular situation is complicated by extraneous factors that require a moral response distinct from strict literal obedience to the Law of God.    

Still Reeling From Holy Week

never ceases to speak to me

Sorry that I have fallen behind a bit here on the blog.  Holy Week got the better of me—I climbed down from my ivory tower and got somewhat over-involved in things in the parish this year—I am not sure how, I was just sort of swept away in the current of what was a magnificent experience of incarnating the profundity of Christian spirituality in the rites and ceremonies of the Christian Pasch.  It really was an opportunity to enter deeply into the mystery of Christ’s suffering, death, and Resurrection

Palm Sunday took on a particularly rich significance as in addition to the already dramatic rites of the Blessing of Palms and Procession followed by the reading of the Passion, the Mass I attended was a “bon-voyage Mass” for sixteen special needs teens and young adults and their eighty-five strong entourage of doctors, nurses, caregivers, choristers, priests and brothers who were leaving to spend Easter at Lourdes.  The enthusiasm which they brought to the procession and their obvious imaging of the sufferings of  Christ in the Passion lifted the veil between the realms of liturgical symbolism and tangible reality in a dramatic way.  No, there was no solemn reserve in the Liturgy.   Yes, the Mass was noisy, raucous even, with all the idiosyncrasies of those on the autism spectrum but then the streets of Jerusalem echoed with the Hosanna’s of Palm Sunday and the screams to crucify on Good Friday.  To see in the faces of these young people the attention and devotion to what was happening, not regarding their own hardships, was a very moving experience. 

The remainder of Holy Week took on a more solemn note.  We do Taizé prayer here weekly and it is both especially solemn and profoundly tranquil in Holy Week. The focus of the prayer throughout Lent is the Cross—“prayer around the cross”—and it is a haunting mixture of silence and scripture and repetitive music that can transport the worshipper to the foot of the Cross.   The liturgies of the Triduum were magnificent.   All were done reverently but with no show or pomp.  Yes, women were among those having their feet washed on Holy Thursday.  And yes, one of the altar servers for the Triduum rites was a young lady—along with her two brothers.  Everything was very Novus Ordo.  There were three adult baptisms and confirmations at the Easter Vigil.  There were Eucharistic Ministers and Lectors (both men and women).  Communion was given in both kinds—as it always is in our parish—except, of course, on Good Friday when the Eucharist is given from the reserved Sacrament.  The Music ranged from Mozart (Ave Verum Corpus) and Curtis Stephan (Bread of Angles) to John Rutter’s Ubi Caritas.  The schola for the Good Friday Liturgy sang the reproaches as well as old spirituals and it was all done a capella.  Good Friday afternoon the parochial vicar preached the Seven Last Words along with a string quartet from our local Opera Company doing Hayden’s Oratorio on the Seven Last Words.  Easter saw trumpets and Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus to packed churches for six Masses.  Indeed, the Church was full for all the services.   At the Vigil there were three adult baptisms and one woman received into the Church. One could clearly see the Sacrament of Baptism as a being buried together with Christ so as to be raised with Christ to newness of Life.

All this is, of course, the icing on the cake: the music, the flowers, even the solemn dignity of the rites.  What matters (and what mattered) is just how deeply moved—and hopefully changed—were  the hearts of the worshippers.  People just stayed in the church for hours, deep in prayer, especially after the Good Friday service.  There was a genuine sense, not so much of ritual well done, but of entering into the Mystery of the Lord’s Passion and Death. 

I have seen the “photo-posts” on some of the neo-trad blogs with their versus absidem altars draped in purple and a superabundance of copes and dalmatics and references to Byrd and Palestrina.  And I am sure they were lovely.  I always found that final scene in the first act of Tosca lovely too—the one where they carry a cardboard host in an antique monstrance.  But it in the end it is not about ritual and rubrics, it is about prayer.  And in the end it is not about tickling the ear with music or eye-candy vestments, but about taking away our hearts of stone and giving us hearts of flesh. 

I am not saying that the old rites can’t do this, but I am observing that the commentaries I read on their wacko sites indicates that they have traded their birthright of conversion for the pottage of ceremonial.  Beautiful yes, but the opera is beautiful.  The question is: does it change our hearts?  Our worship adds nothing to the Glory of God—our transformation into the Love that fills the heart of Christ is what gives God the glory.