Looking Forward to the Priesting of Women
1992 (Year A) 14 February / Epiphany 6
St Peter de Beauvoir Town
In just over two months’ time the first women will ordained priest in the London Diocese. They won’t be the first to be ordained in the country, at least Bristol, Sheffield and Canterbury are holding their ordinations before us, but I guess 17 April will be the first day the vast majority of us will have come across a woman priest.
It will mark a time of enormous change for all of us. There are some here, who I know are looking forward to it with so much joy and anticipation that April can’t come fast enough. There are others who view the date with dread and foreboding. Most of us will be somewhere in between. Looking forward yet anxious as to what the changes might mean.
The first time I went to a celebration of the Eucharist presided over by a woman was in America. I was so anxious that I really did think that the walls of the church might come tumbling down. For everyone else there it was just so much old hat – but for me it’s hard to put into words how I felt. All I know is that as I went into the church my mouth was dry my stomach churned and my legs really did wobble.
Maybe for some the ordination of women to the priesthood is insignificant – but for most of us the whole thing runs very deep. Male priesthood’s been part of our tradition for so long that to change it now feels to a few like sacrilege. For all of us it has to do with the way we see ourselves. It even has to do with the way we see God. It has to do with the relationship between the sexes it has to do with the way we understand Jesus and that’s just for starters. It is a very significant thing.
It’s difficult to anticipate what we’ll feel like – particularly from this distance. But it’s certainly about time we began to think about it together. There will be those who don’t want it now, don’t want it on 17 April and don’t want it any time after that. Well at least that’s straight forward. There will be those who are anxious now but when the big day comes anxiety will be transformed into joy – good for them. There will be those who with their heads welcome the change but their insides tell them something different. There will be those who feel they should welcome it – it’s the politically correct thing to do – but again their insides drag. The condition was described on a conference I went on recently by the distinctly unlovely phrase of ‘Gut-lag’. It just means your head tells you one thing, your stomach tells you something else.
I’m willing to bet that the vast majority of us will be confused on April 17th and probably afterwards as well. It won’t be as straightforward as we think it might be. Even when it’s happened, some of us will be surprised by our emotions, ‘It’s not the same, It’s not the same’, you’ll find yourself saying. Well change never is. If I had a pound for every time, even now, people say to me ‘It’s not the same as when Father Baggley or Father Perry were here’, I’d be a very rich man. The important thing is to recognise that this is likely to happen and to be prepared to talk about it. It’s important because each one of us is important to God. What we say. What we think. What we do. Each one of us is vitally important to God and to each other.
A simple story to illustrate that point. There was once a young boy born into a family which lived in a small Italian town. As he grew he seemed to be just like all the other children. He loved his mother and he went to church. Eventually it became clear that he was being called to the priesthood so he went away and was trained. He became a parish priest and then he did begin to appear to be a bit different. He took on bigger and bigger jobs until eventually the Pope made him a cardinal. This was a tremendous honour both for him and his village. The villagers were so thrilled that they felt they should throw a great party in his honour. The preparations began. It was decided the centrepiece if this party would be the restoration of the fountain which had stood derelict for many years in the village square. The people toiled away mending it and eventually it was finished. Even though it looked glorious, some were still not satisfied.
The only thing the village was famous for was the production of wine. ‘Instead of water the fountain must be filled with wine,’ said the Committee which planned the party. And all the farmers were asked to provide one barrel each of their very best white wine. It took many barrels to fill it up. But the farmer who produced the best wine in the village really didn’t want to give away a whole barrel of his. ‘I’ll fill my barrel with water,’ he thought, ‘No-one will ever know.’
The day of the party came. The new Cardinal was there. He was led to the fountain to unveil it and then he was invited to dip his glass into the fountain and drink. ‘Very good and very welcome’, he said, ‘But what’s special about this water?’
Each of us will be needed over the coming months to listen to others. To tell each other how we’re finding things. To share new insights, to talk about fears. It won’t do to say, ‘Nobody will miss my contribution. It doesn’t matter,’ because somebody will, and it does.
One last thing. In all this I hope sincerely that we’ll be able to remember that no matter how important we see the ordination of women to the priesthood and how divisive some of us feel it to be. It really does pale into insignificance when we stop to reflect on all that unites us. For we are after all, Members together of the Body of Christ. Children of the same heavenly Father and Inheritors together of the kingdom of God. And for that Good Lord we thank you. AMEN