Since in our time women have an ever more active share in the whole life of society, it is very important that they participate more widely also in the various sectors of the Church’s apostolate.
-Apostolicam Actuositatem, Second Vatican Council
17. While some local Churches call for women to be admitted to the diaconal ministry, others reiterate their opposition. On this issue, which will not be the subject of the work of the Second Session, it is good that theological reflection should continue, on an appropriate timescale and in the appropriate ways. The fruits of Study Group 5, which will take into consideration the results of the two Commissions that have dealt with the question in the past, will contribute to its maturation.
−“Instrumentum laboris” for the Second Session of the Synod on Synodality
On Holy Thursday of 1993, at the Mass of the Lord's Supper, I sat beside the Director of Liturgy at St. Perpetua Parish in Lafayette, California, where I ministered as a recently ordained deacon. Together we had processed up the aisle, together we had refilled pitchers and changed basins during the ritual of foot washing, and together we had set and decorated the table of celebration—all according to the careful plans composed by this gifted liturgist. Yet, as the altar was set and the gifts were placed upon it, my partner in ministry returned to the pew where we had been sitting together for much of the Mass, while I was called forward to stand beside the presider and help prepare the gifts. Pouring the water into the chalice, I spoke the words of the prayer—“Through the mingling of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity”—and then handed the chalice to the priest, who raised it as he recited, quietly beneath the offertory hymn, the word of the berakah—“Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation. . .” A few moments later, at the conclusion of the Eucharistic prayer, I raised the chalice, while the doxology was sung by the presider. In all these ways, I assisted at the table of the Eucharist in a manner my companion could not, simply because the liturgist with whom I ministered that night was a woman.
That Mass—celebrated 31 years ago—changed me forever. Striking at a visceral level, it took the issue of women’s exclusion from ordained ministry out of the realm of theological theory, where I was already sympathetic, into a deeply personal place, a place of experience as well as idea. I realized that night that I had always kept my heart a bit removed from the equation—as though it did not really pertain to me. Like many who live in privilege, I had a generalized sympathy for those excluded, but not much empathy; I did not feel the injustice, and so became defensive when confronted by the benefits I had because of it. That night I realized that the exclusion of women from ordained ministry is not simply an issue for women in the Church: it is a question of justice for the whole Church.
This notion of justice is not merely academic, nor can it be reduced to saying that every act of discrimination is intrinsically unjust. If, for example, I choose tall people for my basketball team rather than short people, is that unjust because it discriminates? I would say “no” because height is a relevant factor in the game of basketball. However, if I only chose white players, that would be unjust discrimination because color is not a relevant factor in basketball. Thus, discrimination becomes injustice when there is no relevant and rational reason for that discrimination Which brings us back to the Church and the question of why sexual identity—i.e., maleness or femaleness—is perceived as a relevant condition in restricting ordination to the priesthood or the diaconate.
In the Code of Canon Law approved in 1983, Canon 1024 specifies: Sacram ordinationem valide recipit solus vir baptizatus. (Only a baptized male validly receives sacred ordination.) The use of the word “vir” (man) as opposed to “homo” (human, or generic man) indicates that maleness is essential to the valid receipt of holy orders. A woman cannot be ordained to sacred orders (specifically priesthood) not just because it is against the rules, but because the Sacrament requires maleness. Though clearly discriminatory, the Church holds that this distinction between men and women is not unjust because it emerges from natural law and divine decree. Though presented in several different contexts, the explanation of the exclusion of women from ordained ministry comes down to three principal arguments: the Argument from Tradition; the Argument from Nature; the Argument from Scripture.
The Argument from Tradition holds that the Church has never ordained women, and therefore, such an action would contradict the common practice of the Church from the time of the Apostles. Unless bolstered by Scripture, this argument is less a moral position that a pragmatic one: i.e., it points to the alienation such ordination would cause with our Orthodox sisters and brothers; how it would cause cultural disorder in many parts of the world (and could represent a kind of cultural colonization by the liberal West); and how it would introduce a new way of doing what we have done for centuries. While many would hold that this historical argument is true as regards priestly or episcopal ordination, the existence of women as deacons tends to raise questions, as least insofar as ordination to the diaconate. There is no doubt that as far back as St. Paul—who speaks of the “deacon Phoebe”—women served as deacons, though some would contend that they were not ordained to that office. Yet, such an assertion, without adequate evidence, seems a weak justification for continuing the prohibition on women deacons.
The second argument, the Argument from Nature, in its various versions, seeks to develop a moral component missing in the more pragmatic argument from tradition. Relying on the Church’s fundamental doctrine that Nature—including human nature—is a revelation of God, and that the violation of nature is the essence of sin, this argument proposes, in various ways, that women and men are naturally and essentially different, and therefore, naturally disposed to different ways of service in the Church. There are what might be called “hard and soft” forms of this argument, with some saying that women and men are essentially different, while others saying that they simply have different roles (leaving aside the question of essences). This argument is sometimes presented as a kind of gendered “complementarity”—where the two sexes are seen as complementing each other’s ways of being—or in terms of a “Marian v. Petrine” vocations. Yet, in either hard or soft form, the argument holds that women cannot be ordained because they are, by their nature as women, incapable of or inappropriate for the manifesting of Christ at the altar or in the Sacraments. Women, as such, cannot be or at least cannot seem to be “alter Christus” (an “other Christ”), which is the role the priest assumes in the hearing of Confessions and the consecration of the Eucharist. Though this view does not fully respond to why women cannot be ordained as deacons (most of these arguments are aimed at priestly ordination), it also raises at least two other issues not easily explained.
If one holds for the soft form of the Argument from Nature, arguing that women bring to the Church something men cannot bring—i.e., the Marian role—while men bring what women cannot bring—i.e., the Petrine role—which means that only men can be ordained, then what are men kept from doing? What is the Marian dimension that men cannot rightly live out? Would men be seen as ill-suited for the contemplative and cloistered life? How then to explain the many orders of monastic men?
On the other hand if one holds for the hard form of the argument, one runs into an even more profound question, since the salvific work of Christ is affected by his Incarnation as one of us. We are saved because, as St. Ireneus says, “God became human so that human beings could become divine.” But if God in Jesus only becomes a man and not human, since women and men are essentially different (which is why a woman cannot be “alter Christus”), then how can women be saved by Jesus’ Incarnation? He is not essentially like them, therefore, does that mean he cannot save them? Which is, of course, heresy.
The final argument, the Argument from Scripture, is the strongest of these three arguments, avoiding some of the pitfalls of these two.The Argument from Scripture, which holds that it is the discernible will of the Creator and of Christ Jesus that only men are to be ordained. This is what Pope John Paul II meant when, in 1976, he said, “the Church, in fidelity to the example of the Lord, does not consider herself authorized to admit women to priestly ordination.” This discrimination arises not because those in power do not want to change the rule, but because the rule is rooted in the foundational teaching of Christ himself. Pointing to the naming of the Twelve Apostles, who are all men, and to the replacement of Judas in Acts of the Apostles, where only men (“vir”) participated, as well as a number of passages from St. Paul, and other aspects of the Tradition, the Church has held that the it is clear that Jesus instituted the priesthood as a male institution, whose divine sanction is related to that orientation. Such discrimination, therefore, cannot be unjust, since it is a divine decree which we do not have the power to override or change.
Though never declared infallibly (it was presented by Pope John Paul II in what Cardinal Ratzinger called, at the time, a “non-revisable, ordinary teaching”—the only such teaching ever), this understanding regarding the impossibility of the ordination of women has become the primary argument of the Church as regards the Ordination of Women, especially as regards priesthood, but also by extension, as regards the diaconate. Pope Francis, himself, when asked early in his papacy about the issue replied, “As for the ordination of women in the Catholic Church, the last clear word was given by Saint John Paul II, and that holds.” When the reporter followed up, saying (according to some reports), “Never? Ever?” Francis responded, “If we read carefully the statement made by Saint John Paul II, it is along those lines. Yes.”
The Argument from Scripture, integrally connected to the Argument from Tradition, calls for a discernment of the intention of Christ Jesus through an understanding of the meaning of Scripture. Such, of course, is the root of all the Church’s teaching, since Scripture is the light by which we are empowered to interpret even Nature herself. Yet, for many Catholics, Scripture is not quite as univocal in its meaning as the absolute ban on women’s ordination may make it seem. Especially, given the Pauline praise of “the deacon Phoebe,” or the calling of the Woman at the Well, or the sending of Mary Magdalene to proclaim the Resurrection, there seem to be some reason to doubt that the ordination of women to the diaconate is part of the clear intention of the Founder that some profess.
For many Catholics, who saw in Francis’ appointment of two successive commission to study women deacons a reason to hope that the women would return to this role in the Church, his affirmation of the ban on priestly ordination—and later on diaconate ordination—seemed particularly painful and confusing. Looking for hope, these people noted the odd phrasing the Pope used in his news conference: e.g., his expression “the last clear word” which could mean either “most recent” or “eternally definitive.” Further, his avoidance of saying the word “never” himself, and his choice to respond to the reporter’s use of “never” with the more ambiguous, “it is along those lines” (or, in other translations, “it goes along this line”) all seemed an invitation for continuing dialogue. Likewise, the openness promised by the Synod on Synodality maintained a hope that the dialogue, at least on the diaconate, was still open—a hope dented, if not dashed, by the Pope’s recent comments on CBS and by the exclusion of diaconal ordination of women from the agenda of the coming session of the Synod.
It appears that Francis’ recent statements have closed the question of the ordination for women, specifically to the diaconate; however, the very model of synodality, so foundational to Francis’ pontificate, means more may yet develop—springing from the voice of the faithful and the impetus of the Spirit. For even among those who work with and praise Pope Francis for the many ways he is inviting the voices of women and of the laity into the heart of the Church, there remain those who believe that the failure to ordain women as deacons leaves an injustice at the heart of the Church, an injustice that must continue to be named. In groups like Discerning Deacons and others, there continues to be a flowering of hope and continuing love for the Church—even when there is disagreement and at times disappointment about her current state.
Such a position of ongoing discernment (part of Francis’ Jesuit DNA) means that we can continue to journey with the Spirit, and raise questions about injustice that need to be raised. If the Church is to escape its own history of enabling abusers, as well as its “original sin” of clericalism, we must enter these painful discussions and explore the rationale behind the Church’s teaching. It is not enough to say we cannot talk about it, not enough to threaten those with whom we disagree. If we are to follow faithfully the One who is Incarnate Truth and Love, we must lovingly engage—as Jesus always does—those for whom this structure causes such evident and searing pain. While it may be tempting to mimic societal divisions and demonize our “opposition”—banishing them with accusations of being heretics or “cafeteria Catholics” on the one hand or “patriarchal clericalists” on the other—the example of Christ and the profound need to discern this matter well requires that we presuppose good will in one another.
Those who believe that the Church should accept women’s ordination do so because they love the Church, because they sense that this restriction keeps the Church from living fully the mystery of the Incarnation and acknowledging a call of Christ in half the population. On the other hand, many of those who oppose women’s ordination do so because they believe they are being faithful to Christ and to the Church they love, and that they do not have the power to change what to them appears the clear teaching of the Lord. Yet, if good will exists on both sides, why are we at an impasse? In a time when many women and young people are leaving the Church, when the need for holy voices to be heard is greater than ever, we must ask ourselves: where is God’s will, and how can we know it? Are our restrictions simply a matter of history and patriarchal culture infusing itself into Church structures, or are they matters of human nature and God’s ineffable design? Though we may never come to an indisputable answer to these questions, we must face them with love and hope, asking faithfully if the restrictions on the Sacrament of Ordination are just, and exploring the issues with knowledge and understanding, compassion and openness. Rather than threatening those who raise arguments, or dismissing those with whom we disagree, we must listen with our hearts as well as our heads, and pray for the courage and indifference to allow the Holy Spirit to guide us, as we become together the Church, the Body of Christ in the world.
Fr. John Whitney, S. J.
Photo: Ordination to The Priesthood for Diocese of Westminster. Flickr / Catholic Church of England and Wales (cc)