If I’m Being Led by the Spirit, One of Us Has Been Drinking
02 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
in Catholic Tradition, Catholicism, Conversion, Feminist Theology, Jesus, Liberation Theology, Religious Communities, Theology Tags: Catholic Church, Catholicism, Christianity, feminism, Jesus, liberation theologies
Vemeer's "The Glass of Wine"
Given my rather erratic journey of faith, one would have to conclude that the Spirit can’t really be held responsible.
As any good convert, I was more Catholic than the Pope. It was important to believe everything as told, and to do everything right.
I actually did scour the books for the “correct” version of a prayer, which version of the Bible was “Catholic” and so forth, no Protestant stuff for me.
This went on for some time. I was leery of biblical scholars and theologians who were not Roman. I couldn’t trust them you see. They might not be giving me the “official” version.
As such, I was not concerned with the issues of celibacy and women’s ordination. I assumed my Church had good reason for this. I was for and against them respectively.
Of course, today, I laugh at such things. In fact, I started moving distinctly away from “doctrine” and official dogma once I started taking a Master’s program in Pastoral Ministry at a Catholic liberal arts college in Detroit. Happily I was introduced to all the fine theologies that were and are making the rounds–liberation, black, women’s, feminist, Latina, LGBTQ–the list gets longer by the day.
Some of it cut across the niceties of what I considered acceptable. I definitely disliked James Cone‘s Black Liberation Theology for instance. I too thought some of the feminist stuff was a bit too strident.
But time changes one. At least it did me. Now I respect and love Cone, and I have a big “go sista” to the feminist Christian movement. I recently read and reviewed New Feminist Christianity: Many Voices, Many Views, edited by Mary E. Hunt and Diann L. Neu. You can read a copy of it at my other blog AFeatherAdrift (please don’t mention this one–My Episcopal friends have no idea yet of my Catholic struggles).
I read it with fervor and joy, happy to see that feminist work is continuing and broadening in terms of subject and locale. As I said, once, I looked quite askance at this. But that was before I realized by gentle but helpful teachers, that God is diminished when we construct Her in this limited way, with hierarchies of power and leadership. A good healthy dose of good biblical exegesis helped hugely as well.
One of the things I learned from the book was that there is no “women’s voice” there are many, as the name suggests. There is no Latina voice, nor lesbian voice. We do not judge each other. For some women, leaving the Roman tradition is necessary. For others, like myself, it turns out to have been a mistake.
I can only speak for me. I am Catholic, and that informs much about me in the end. I choose to stand and oppose my faith on issues that I discern them to be wrong. I do it perhaps because my personality is confrontational, or perhaps for some other reason. But that is the path I am on, though it no doubt looks odd and troubling to others who know me.
Catholics on the extreme right had convinced me that I had no place in the Church. They were real and I was a “cafeteria” one, barely worthy of the name. I needed to go to a church that I found that agreed with my self-serving needs. I was contemptible.
But of course I was not gay, nor did I seriously want to be ordained. I am well past child-bearing, and thus I have no personal issue with abortion or birth control. My troubles with doctrine were heart felt, and supported by serious intellectual study and reflection.
What was worse, were the things they said about American Catholic universities and colleges (most of them that is) and about religious men and women (excluding of course ETWN). I was nothing but the product of “liberalized” nuns and priests who were never taught properly in the first place.
It is with deep sadness that I hear of the Vatican’s examination of religious men and women in the US, with a view to determining their degree of orthodoxy. It is a shame, since these men and women carry the lion’s share of the social justice work being done on behalf of Mother church. They present the Church as loving and concerned, as politically involved, and as caring for the least among us, something Jesus presented to us as our duty.
I am also deeply sad that on the Internet, there is a paucity of liberal Catholic blogging. I have searched with almost no success to find bloggers who are like myself, walking in the shadows of their faith, formally rejected, yet finding a vibrant welcome here and there. I believe with all my being that most Catholics are supportive of us.
It would be nice to be able to talk to others who struggle as I do.
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The Best Among Us
29 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
in Religious Communities Tags: contemplatives, nuns, religious communities, Rome
Given that I considered the Roman Catholic Church to be a place of fascinating mystery, it is not surprising that I felt similarly about nuns.
I saw these women walking in twos or more along the strip mall that was a standard feature around suburbia in the 50′s and 60′s.
All were dressed in some version of long black dresses with white bibs. Long black veils also with white head bands accompanied. No makeup, decidedly old-fashioned eyeglass wear, granny type shoes. What is not to like?
I stared as a young girl, wondering what and who these women were.
After my confirmation in the Church, it did not take me long to feel drawn. For as all converts are, I was zealous in my faith. And being a rather reluctant attorney, I guess I saw this as a perfect way to turn my life.
I won’t bore you with details, for in large part they are not important. I was deeply drawn to the contemplative life. I was disabused of that notion quickly. Women of my age (43) were not candidates for such strict lifestyles. Too hard to adapt after too many years of secular living. (I now know that there may be an exception or two in the US where older women are accepted.)
All went well in my pursuit. I switched from my initial choice, the Sisters of St. Joseph, to the Dominicans, a much better fit for me. I was busy with spiritual direction and weekends were often spent at meetings and Mother House activities. All was going very well, until. . . .
Until I went to New Mexico to help out at a bible camp for Navajo kids. To say that I had never worked so hard would be an understatement. From dawn to dusk and then some. And watching Sister go about her duties simply depressed me. There was little time for prayer or meditation. Her days were always full, the camp preparation was merely more.
When I returned I started to see more of this. Women who were stretched to the limit of their capacity. Shrinking numbers and pressure to make money to support large houses kept these women working day and night. Full time jobs were followed by board meetings most nights of the week. Weekends often meant long drives to spent a few precious hours with fellow sisters in more meetings and hopefully some retreat time.
But always on the move. Rosaries and morning prayer was often said in cars, on the way to somewhere. Parishes were increasingly being run by women, with a priest popping in on Sunday for the Mass. Parish administrations don’t work 9-5, but are “on call.” Other women were superintendents or principles of schools, highly placed hospital administrators, professors.
I saw women near tears at the thought of yet another commitment, begging to not be placed in nomination for yet another committee. And I started to realize that I could not do this.
Lazy me was not fit for such work. I would break quickly, resent it, hurt these beautiful women who had spent so much time and energy on me. I would leave. Indeed, the draw of the contemplative life seemed clear to me–I loved the quiet and peaceful existence it offered. I was made for long hours of meditation and prayer. I was not made for all this running to and fro trying to do the jobs of three people.
And yet, I can say unequivocally that these women were some of the happiest I had ever known. To those not afraid of the long hours, their faith was more than enough to sustain them. They might have little time for formal prayer, but in their hearts and minds, they knew they were praying through their work each day, doing the work that Jesus would have them do–feeding, clothing, tending, listening, counseling, housing, all those in need.
It is humbling and painful to realize you are not cut of this cloth. It is better to acknowledge that you are not than to try and fail, disturbing a now quite fragile existence.
And the Pope and his assistants are now traveling America and poking their noses into these houses of women religious and questioning their obedience. Questioning whether they have become too liberal. Threatening in their mere presence to tighten up these congregations.
And yet these women stoically, calmly, quietly, welcome, offer hospitality, and continue to do what they know they must. For God calls women as He calls men. The Spirit dwells as lively and actively in them as in their brothers. And they, being true to God, must respond as they are called upon to do. If that does not please Rome, than so be it.
I have talked to many a self-proclaimed “conservative” Catholic, though they would define themselves as more like “real” Catholics. They have little good to say of nuns these days. They are the ones to accuse them of failing to teach “proper” doctrine to the last generation. Nuns, they claim, are liberal, and awfully educated.
And it shocks me, and appalls me. Having spent so much time with nuns, I know them to be the most caring, the most thoughtful, the most painfully torn by the divisive issues that present to all of us. They seek only to do as Jesus would have them do.
And I think perhaps that they might do it just about the best of all of us.
