Women Deacons, Part 3

Women Deacons, Part 3

11/20/2023

Lk 18:35-43 As Jesus approached Jericho a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging, and hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what was happening. They told him, "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by." He shouted, "Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!" The people walking in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent, but he kept calling out all the more, "Son of David, have pity on me!" Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?" He replied, "Lord, please let me see." Jesus told him, "Have sight; your faith has saved you." He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God. When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God.

If you don’t mind, I would like to circle back to the topic of women possibly being ordained as deacons one more time. Don’t worry, this will be the last time, I promise. But I felt my last two homilies on this subject may have caused some confusion, which I would like to clarify. My intention was not to advocate for women deacons but to probe the possibility of what such a step would look like.

There is a world of difference between saying something could happen and suggesting that something should happen. Simply suggesting such-and-such a step may be possible does not mean that step should be pursued. It is possible for someone to stand on their head and walk around on their hands, with their feet up in the air. But just because you could does not mean you should.

Recently a friend pointed out to me that Pope Francis has spoken publicly on this subject of women deacons and said the Church will not ordain women as deacons. The Holy Father made those comments in a book published in Italian on October 25, 2023. He reiterated something we already know well: Holy Orders has three levels – deacon, priest, and bishop – and they cannot be theologically separated the way I was describing earlier.

In other words, the pope disagrees – and he speaks for the whole Church in matters of faith and morals – that there is a bright red line between the ranks of deacon and priest, allowing women to occupy the former but not the latter. So the answer to the question of women deacons is clear: the Catholic Church will not ordained women as deacons because it would shatter the theological structure of the sacrament of Holy Orders. As the ancient Latin maxim held: “Roma locuta, causa finita est”, meaning, “Roma has spoken, case closed.”

But even though we know the answer that does not mean we should not ask the question. Why not? Because asking questions is how we grow in the faith. And I do not believe this probing and pushing ultimately undermines the truth faith. Mahatma Gandhi said: “Even in a minority of one, the truth is truth.” Even if everyone agreed on changing a given Catholic teaching – like the possibility of ordaining women - it would not change the truth of the matter. The Church is not a democracy.

Have you ever heard of another ancient maxim, “All roads lead to Rome”? At its height, the Roman Empire covered all Europe, the Middle East, and northern Africa. The entire empire was connected by a complex system of roads. Any road you traveled, therefore, would theoretically lead you back to Rome, to the Millinarium Aureum, the Golden Milestone, a marble monument erected by Caesar Augustus in the heart of Rome.

We have traveled a long way in discussing women deacons, but our questioning will finally lead us back to Rome, that is, to the Roman Catholic Church. That is another way of saying all truth is one, one diamond with many facets. I am convinced that anyone who genuinely seeks the truth – relentlessly and honestly – will find the Truth, namely, Jesus Christ, and the Church he founded, headquartered in Rome.

Now I would like to show how my original argument about ordaining women deacons is like a knife that cuts both ways. What do I mean? My former argument, when followed carefully to its conclusion, demonstrates both the possibility of ordaining women but at the same time also its impossibility. It is in this sense that I mean that “all roads lead to Rome.”

Like the good witch, Glenda, urged Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, “Follow the yellow brick road," we too must stay on the road of our current questioning and not deviate off it. That is, if you follow a line of sound reasoning – not a hysterical shouting match like we see on TV – you will inevitably find the truth of the matter. How does my earlier argument actually cut in the direction of not ordaining women as deacons? Let us follow the yellow brick road and see if we can get back home, not to Kansas, but Rome.

You might remember we made a couple of theological leaps of faith. First, we distinguished and drew a hard line between deacon and priest. And second, we redefined the word “clerical” to refer only to priests and bishops and excluded deacons. Such a radical sacramental surgery would not heal the patient but kill the patient, or at best so reconstruct the patient as to make him unrecognizable.

This step of ordaining women deacons might be compared to transgender surgery that tries to make a woman into a man, or a man into a woman. That radical surgery is precisely what my previous proposal of ordaining women theologically attempted: try to change a woman into a being that can be ordained, or change Holy Orders into a sacrament that can fit a woman. In other words, this surgery does not save the patient – women or Holy Orders – but kills them or makes them unrecognizable as women or a sacrament.

Just because you could do something does not mean you should do it. And this is the sense in which I mean that “all roads lead to Rome,” that is, if you see what the suggestion of ordaining women as deacons really implies and involves – a radical reorganizing of the sacramental structure of the Church – you would be against it. At the end of this yellow brick road of questioning you would land where the pope is, Rome.

Back in 1948, C. S. Lewis wrote an essay on the possibility of ordaining women as priestesses in the Anglican Church. He argued against the idea, but as you probably know, his side lost and today there are Anglican priestesses. But I think his argument is noteworthy for two reasons. First, he says that moving in the direction of women priests is ultimately “an argument not in favor of Christian priestesses, but against Christianity.” That is, the sacramental surgery needed to create priestesses – or deaconesses in our case – would go so deep that you end up with a different religion altogether.

And the second reason his essay is worth reading is he demonstrates how all roads lead to Rome, even though Lewis never became Roman Catholic. Lewis warned: “To take such a revolutionary step at the present moment, to cut ourselves off from the Christian past, and to widen the divisions between ourselves and the other Churches by establishing an order of priestesses in our midst, would be an almost wonton degree of imprudence. And the Church of England herself would be torn in shreds by the operation.”

I will let you decide how prophetic Lewis’ warnings were from seventy-five years ago. But I think he shows powerfully how the farther you travel from Rome, that is, the Roman Catholic Church, the farther you move away from the Truth, and descend into the darkness of error. Lewis adds: “If we abandon that [which is mystical and unchangeable], if we retain only what can be justified by standards of prudence and convenience at the bar of enlightened common sense, then we exchange revelation for that old wraith Natural Religion.” Put simply, we trade what is God-made for something man-made. Like REM sang, we will be the guy “in the corner…losing my religion.”

So, let me summarize. First, just because you can do something does not mean you should. Earlier I tried to explore what it might look like if we attempted to ordain women as deacons. But could does not mean should, and possible does not mean desirable. And second, all roads lead to Rome and the Roman Catholic Church. That is, if you follow a line of sound reasoning faithfully and fearlessly it will lead you to the truth that is Roman Catholicism.

And when we walked that road with the question about women deacons, we discovered the consequences were catastrophic. C. S. Lewis predicted that would be the case for the Church in England regarding priestesses, "the Church of England herself would be torn in shreds by the operation." And we should listen to his wise counsel. Why? Because it is always wiser (and easier) to learn from another’s mistakes than from our own.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Crying or Dying

Seeing our children as our greatest assets

11/19/2023

Mt 25:14-15, 19-21 Jesus told his disciples this parable: "A man going on a journey called in his servants and entrusted his possessions to them. To one he gave five talents; to another, two; to a third, one-- to each according to his ability. Then he went away. "After a long time the master of those servants came back and settled accounts with them. The one who had received five talents came forward bringing the additional five. He said, 'Master, you gave me five talents. See, I have made five more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master's joy.'"

If someone asked you, “What are your greatest assets?” how would you answer them? Most of us would reply, “Well, my house is probably my greatest asset.” Others who have successfully traded in the stock market may say their investment portfolio is their greatest asset. Still others who have grown and expanded their business enterprise may answer, “My business is my greatest asset.”

Here at Immaculate Conception Church we review our balance sheet every month which tracks the depreciation of our assets, and by far our greatest asset listed there is our Gothic-styled church. Can you even imagine how much it would cost to rebuild and replace such a historic building? The expense would be astronomical.

But did you ever think of your children as your most precious assets? Most of us think of children in the opposite category, an expense. We have to buy more food, clothes, a larger house, get them braces, send them to Catholic schools, pay college tuition, plan a wedding, and sometimes they move into the basement and don’t even pay rent! My dog Apollo takes all my extra money for food, toys, vet bills: he’s eating me out of house and home! Many younger Americans are seeing what a huge expense children are, and so don’t get married, or don’t want children at all.

And the worst thing of all is that babies cry at Mass! When I see a baby at Mass, I shudder and think: "Oh, no, here comes the competition!" But a friend of mine reminded me recently, “Fr. John, if the church ain’t crying, the church is dying.” He totally revolutionized my thinking about assets. In other words, the greatest asset of I.C. church is not this Gothic-styled cathedral (beautiful as it is), but rather every crying baby in the pews. Think of all the beautiful churches littered all over Europe but sitting empty. If the church ain’t crying, the church is dying.

I love the conclusion of C. S. Lewis’ masterful essay called “The Weight of Glory.” There he points to our greatest asset as people, writing: “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit…Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.” Lewis teaches in no uncertain terms that people are our greatest assets, and those people were once children.

In the gospel today, Jesus presents a parable about the talents. He says: “To one he gave five talents; to another, two; to a third, one – to each according to his ability.” Now, most of the time we translate the word “talent” into some monetary amount. And that is certainly the primary meaning of talent. But talents can also be understood in the sense of “assets”, and in that sense, we have no greater assets or talents than our children.

Now listen to that parable after we replace the word “talent” with the word “children”: “To one he gave five children; to another, two children; to a third, one child – to each according to his ability.” By the way, this is why the Church insists that parents are the primary educators of their children in the faith. In other words, developing your talents means raising your children in the faith. Teach them that their greatest assets will one day be their children.

My friends, it can be hard to see that our greatest assets and talents are our children. Let me give you some examples. First, even though the Supreme Court has overturned Roe vs. Wade which legalized abortion in 1973, several states have lifted that ban on abortion and legalized it in their state. Legalizing abortion is a failure to see babies are our greatest assets, instead, we see them as a liability, and need to get them off the balance sheet.

Second, every November the United States bishops meet to discuss urgent matters facing the Church in our country. Last week some bishops felt that abortion is NOT the pre-eminent threat to our society, but fortunately, the majority of bishops still do. But how surprising that the all bishops are not unanimous their opposition to abortion, and that some could think other issues are more urgent. That is a failure to see children as our greatest assets and talents.

And third, this is a lesson we can learn from our Hispanic parishioners, too, who see children as an asset, not a liability. Hispanics have lots of babies and I have lots of competition at Spanish Masses. We typically have to do group baptisms of Hispanic babies, usually between 10 to 15 at a time. Someone remarked to me recently that our church and schools are becoming more “brown”. And I replied, “You’re welcome!” I guess my brown face is helping to make our church and school more brown, too.

My friends, it does not matter if our Church is white or brown or black or red or yellow. What matters is that we see all children as a gift from God, and in the language of Jesus’ parable today, as our real talents and treasures. Why? Because if the Church ain’t crying, our Church is dying.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Stealing Fire

11/17/2023

Wis 13:1-9 All men were by nature foolish who were in ignorance of God, and who from the good things seen did not succeed in knowing him who is, and from studying the works did not discern the artisan; But either fire, or wind, or the swift air, or the circuit of the stars, or the mighty water, or the luminaries of heaven, the governors of the world, they considered gods. Now if out of joy in their beauty they thought them gods, let them know how far more excellent is the Lord than these; for the original source of beauty fashioned them. For they search busily among his works, but are distracted by what they see, because the things seen are fair. But again, not even these are pardonable. For if they so far succeeded in knowledge that they could speculate about the world, how did they not more quickly find its Lord?

Boys and girls, have you heard of a program called Chat-GPT? My brother was telling me recently about Google’s version of Chat-GPT called Bard – another form of artificial intelligence (AI) – and he showed me how it works. I was curious if it could create a homily for a Sunday Mass as well or better than I could. You’re probably thinking: that’s impossible, Fr. John!

He said first I needed to give Bard certain prompts, like give it the gospel reading for that day (Mt 23), that the homily is for Sunday not a weekday, it should be 8-9 minutes long, and it should be Catholic theology not Presbyterian. And in less time than it takes you to blink your eye, the Bard had produced a very clear, practical, and theologically-sound sermon. My hair would have been blown back, if I had any.

Then my brother said that he could also add the prompt, “In the style of Fr. John Antony of Fort Smith, Arkansas,” and immediately another homily appeared on the screen which was even more personal and even used phrases and vocabulary that I normally use. It was not only fascinating but also frightening. Why?

Well, it’s a priest’s job to preach, but if Bard instantly creates your sermons, whose homily are you hearing on Sundays: Fr. John’s homily or Fr. Bard’s homily? In other words, have we arrived at the moment where we can replace a human being with a machine and not be able to tell the difference? In other words, did I write this homily you’re hearing now or did Bard write it for me? How can you tell?

By the way, this is not a new question. When I was ordained back in 1996, I was assigned to Christ the King in Little Rock. I was visiting the 8th graders one day and a student raised his hand and asked, “Fr. John, can we clone a human being?” Earlier that year, on July 5, 1996, scientists had successfully cloned Dolly the Sheep, which looked, bleated, and gave birth to other sheep. How would you answer that question: can we clone people?

Well, I said a quick prayer to the Holy Spirit and blurted out something like: “Well, if the newly cloned human could kneel down and pray to God, then I think cloning a real human might be possible.” Then I looked at my watch and gasped, “Wow, look at the time! Gotta go!” In other words, what makes a human being truly human is the soul that God alone can give us.

As you know from biology, your mom gives you 23 chromosomes, and your dad gives you 23 chromosomes, but neither mom nor dad can give you a soul. Only God can. And only those who have souls can pray to God because your soul tells you who created you. No matter how clever machines may become in creating homilies and humanoids (clones), only God can give us a soul, and that is what makes us unique and unrepeatable.

As I said, this is not a new problem but a very old one, thinking we don’t need God or we can do what he does. The first reading from Wisdom – one of my favorite books of the Old Testament – says: “All men were by nature foolish who were in ignorance of God, and who from the good things seen did not succeed in knowing him who is, and from studying the works did not discern the artisan.” The artisan is not bread but God.

In other words, when we look at the beauty of the world, especially the utter uniqueness of a human being, we should see that only God could have created such a magnificent being, and such a wonderful world. But we are always tempted to take God for granted and think I don’t need the Holy Spirit to write my homilies. I only need Bard. The rapid growth of technology and science makes some people foolishly believe they are god. But the Bible tells us that is not wisdom.

I know students at OCA study Greek and Roman mythology. And mythology tries to warn us like the Bible does. Have you heard of the Greek god named Prometheus? He is god of science and technology. Why? According to his myth, he stole fire from the gods on Mt. Olympus and gave it to human beings allowing humans to become powerful and develop their science and technology. Discovering fire was the first step that eventually led to the creation of Chat-GPT and Bard.

But Zeus, the chief god, punished Prometheus by binding him in chains to the side of a mountain. Zeus ordered than an eagle would come very day and peck at Prometheus’ breast and eat his liver. Every night though his liver would grow back. The next day the eagle would return, peck his breast and devour his liver again. And that cycle would continue forever as Prometheus’ punishment. Greek mythology is gory, but also very good in teaching us life lessons.

Now, some of you may be thinking: Fr. John, I don’t care about all that. I am just happy that Chat-GPT will write my papers for me and my teacher can’t tell the difference! Or a priest might think: Yay, I don’t have to work so hard on my homilies anymore, or pray to the Holy Spirit, the real Fire of God that came down at Pentecost! And that may all be true.

But the real question remains: can you replace real people with machines? Can you clone a human being? Put differently, can you steal fire from the gods like Prometheus, and go unpunished? I don’t think so. We cannot steal fire from the gods just like we cannot steal our soul from God. He has to give it to us as a gift. And the good news is that God is happy to give us both our soul and the Fire of the Holy Spirit. And we don’t even have to ask for them.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Routine of Religion

Doing our Christian duty with diligence and determination

11/14/2023

Lk 17:7-10 Jesus said to the Apostles: "Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here immediately and take your place at table'? Would he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished'? Is he grateful to that servant  because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.'"

There is a real danger for us diocesan priests that religion can become routine. I suppose that same danger lurks for you Catholics who come to daily Mass, too. Priests and laity alike can allow ourselves to just go through the motions of the Mass, almost unconscious of what we are saying or doing, like going through a carwash.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen captured this pitfall with a pithy saying. He observed: “Jewelers become used to fine diamonds.” Whereas some Catholics come to Mass with a spirit of awe and reverence (like new Catholics do), to some old priests and people the Mass feels like just “another day at the office” and a box we check off in a long list of other routine boxes we have for the day.

I will never forget a priest in the seminary warned us: “Gentlemen, the day will come when you are tried after three Masses on Sunday, and you get to the end of the third Mass and ask yourself, ‘Did I say the words of consecration over the wine?’” I couldn’t believe that could ever happen to me. I guess that might be comparable to how married couples can get used to making love. Can that become routine?

That is when I made a promise to myself that I would say the words of consecration closely and deliberately so I made sure they were said. Sometimes when I take the Hosts back to the tabernacle after Communion, I smile at Jesus remember what the priest said in seminary, and I say: “Well, Lord, that day hasn’t come yet! I remember consecrating the wine!” That is, I haven’t gotten used to the fine diamond that is the Mass yet, but that temptation is still a real danger.

In the gospel today Jesus teaches his disciples the importance of dong their duty diligently. He says: “When you have one wall you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” That is, do not get a big head or grow arrogant about your priestly ministry. Yes, you are handling diamonds of faith: baptism, weddings, Masses, funerals, confessions, etc. But also stay steadfast and faithful, vigilant and conscientious.

When a man is ordained, the bishop sternly advises him of this duty: “Receive the oblation (bread and wine) of the holy people to be offered to God. Understand what you do, imitate what you celebrate, and conform your life to the mystery of the Lord’s cross.” In other words, do your duty diligently, and never get used to these fine diamonds of faith that you handle every day.

Let me give you some examples of how easily religion can become routine. I remarked to the ladies in the office last week that Monday through Friday I prepare 5 to 6 couples for marriage, every Saturday I celebrate a wedding, and each Sunday afternoon I write annulment decrees. We are a full service shop! We can get you in and get you out.

Yesterday at noon we celebrated the baptism of 18 month-old baby Warren Upchurch. It was an urgent baptism because Warren’s cancer had returned and it was very severe. Today we will have the funeral of 57 year-old Jeff Herrell, whose passing has deeply saddened many people in our community.

These are the fine diamonds of people’s life – not always happy occasions – but always filled with grace and God’s presence. But it takes the eyes of faith to see the “diamond in the rough” of our lives. That is why we repeated in the Responsorial Psalm, "I will bless the Lord at all times.” Why?

Because, the Psalmist answers: “The Lord is close to the broken hearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves.” Yes, religion can become routine for all of us, just like love can become routine for married couples. But that is no excuse to become lax and lazy; instead, “I will bless the Lord at all times.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Have Some of This

Accepting our Father’s Food gladly and gratefully

11/13/2023

Lk 17:1-6 Jesus said to his disciples, "Things that cause sin will inevitably occur, but woe to the one through whom they occur. It would be better for him if a millstone were put around his neck and he be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. Be on your guard! If your brother sins, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he wrongs you seven times in one day and returns to you seven times saying, 'I am sorry,' you should forgive him." And the Apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." The Lord replied, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you."

Sometimes our experience of the Mass can feel mundane and even monotonous. But every now-and-then, it can also feel magical and even miraculous. I would like to share a very magical moment for me at Mass yesterday. In the past few years I have noticed a curious custom my father has when we eat a meal as a family. I cannot remember how long he has been doing this, but as he gets close to finishing his food, he takes a little portion and offers it to me. He says very kindly and lovingly, “Here, have some of this.”

At first I used to get frustrated at him and snap back, “No, dad, I have more than enough on my plate! I can barely finish my own food.” More recently, however, I realized this small portion of his food was an important gesture of his love for me, and I now accept it humbly and eat it gratefully, even though I am still full.

But yesterday at Spanish Mass, while I was distributing Holy Communion, it suddenly struck me: I am doing exact what my dad does! It is as if I were saying to all those Catholics coming up in my line, “Here, have some of this.” And tears welled up in my eyes when I suddenly realized what I was doing: a spiritual father, which is what priests are in their deepest identities, was feeding his sons and daughters, like my dad feeds me.

And how do some Catholics respond to this gesture I make every Sunday to eat some of my Food? Some say like I used to: “No, dad, I have enough food on my plate! I have no room to eat the Eucharist!” That is, my spiritual stomach is full of the things of this world and I am not hungry for the Mass. Yet other Catholics come to Communion begrudgingly, again, like I used to with my dad, and force down the Food of Angels, but all the while we can’t wait to get back to our own plate, and devour more of our worldly diet.

But every now-and-then, we come to Mass and suddenly we see – like I did yesterday – what is really happening here. It is as if scales fall from our eyes, like they did for Saul the Pharisee after he saw Jesus on the road to Damascus in Acts 9:18, and we realize Holy Communion is when our heavenly Father says, though the voice of his human interpreter the priest, “Here, have some of This.”

And what the heavenly Father offers us his beloved children is his own Son, Jesus Christ, in the form of Bread and Wine. How could any Catholic possibly say, “No thanks” to such a kind and generous offer? Well, how did I say, “No thanks, dad” for so many years when my family ate a meal together? It's hard to fathom the depths of human stubbornness and stupidity, at least mine.

As you know we are in the conclusion of a three-year program called the Eucharistic Revival. The United States bishops have been watching with growing alarm that Catholic Mass attendance has been dwindling. Thankfully, that is not the case here at I.C. but it is generally true around the country. Perhaps you know someone in your own family who grew up Catholic but no longer goes to Mass?

Don’t worry, I do too: plenty of my Catholic classmates from grade school, high school, and even college no longer attend Mass. In other words, the bishops are hearing Catholics across our country saying in effect, “No, dad, I have enough to eat on my plate! I don’t want that little portion from your plate.”

But Catholics have forgotten that the Food the Father offers us will give us eternal life, whereas the food we stuff ourselves with only offer us earthly life. The bishops are calling for a Eucharistic revival so that the scales will fall from all Catholics’, indeed from all Christians’, eyes so we can “taste how good the Lord is” (1 Pt 2:3). The bishops are saying to the whole world: “Here, have some of This.”

Bishop Robert Barron made this beautiful observation about how meeting Jesus at Mass always changes us. He wrote in his book Catholicism, “In his meditation on the story of the visit of the Magi, Archbishop Fulton Sheen indicated that the three kings…”having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way” (Mt 2:12). 'Of course they did,' Sheen concluded, ‘for no one comes to Christ and goes back the same way he came!’”

Bishop Barron continued: “The liturgy is the privileged communion with the Lord; it is the source and summit of the Christian life. And therefore those who participate in it never leave unchanged; they never go back the same way they came” (p. 194). That is, we will be changed at every Mass, provided we are humble enough to say “Sure, Dad, thanks” when the heavenly Father says, “Here, have some of This.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Greetings and Goodbyes

Seeing how we are always held in the Lord’s hands

11/11/2023

Rom 16:3-9, 16, 22-27 Brothers and sisters: Greet Prisca and Aquila, my co-workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I am grateful but also all the churches of the entiles; greet also the Church at their house. Greet my beloved Epaenetus, who was the firstfruits in Asia for Christ. All the churches of Christ greet you. I, Tertius, the writer of this letter, greet you in the Lord. Gaius, who is host to me and to the whole Church, greets you. Erastus, the city treasurer, and our brother Quartus greet you. Now to him who can strengthen you, according to my Gospel and the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery kept secret for long ages but now manifested through the prophetic writings and, according to the command of the eternal God, made known to all nations to bring about the obedience of faith, to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ be glory forever and ever. Amen.

One of the hardest things for me to do is to say goodbye gracefully. Whenever I have to leave someone’s company after a meeting, a meal, or a movie, I feel very awkward and never know if I should give them a handshake or a hug. Or, if I should say something funny or say, “God bless you.” Do you ever feel that way, or is this just my personal quirk?

My mom and dad both have different ways of saying goodbye. I go to visit them on most Fridays and when I am about to leave we say a little prayer together and I give them a blessing. Mom walks me to the door, but dad stays on the recliner. It’s gotten harder for him to get up and walk around and he usually needs a cane to keep his balance.

But ever since I got my dog Apollo, after the prayer and blessing, dad doesn’t just get off the recliner and walk me and Apollo to the door. He comes all the way to the car, and waves and blows kisses. And he is not on my side of the car but Apollo’s side saying goodbye to him. It’s a miracle! So, maybe we are all trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye.

One place we can learn the best way to say goodbye is in the Scriptures (where we learn everything else). At the end of St. Paul’s letters, like the conclusion of Romans we heard this morning, we hear an eloquent example of how to depart gracefully. First, Paul mentions other people he wants to greet through the readers of his letter, like we say, “Tell your mom I said hi.” And secondly, Paul always includes Jesus and a benediction, a blessing. So, we read: “Now, to him who can strengthen you…the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, be glory forever and ever. Amen.”

By the way, we have adapted some of St. Paul’s concluding benedictions as the opening greetings for the Mass. Have you noticed this? My favorite greeting which was originally a goodbye is the one which invokes the Holy Trinity. I love to greet you at Mass repeating Paul’s goodbye in 2 Co 13:13, where he says: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”

In a sense, what the Church has done is transform a goodbye into a greeting, and made those salutations two sides of the same Christian coin, our Christian life. In other words, all our comings and goings, our greetings and goodbyes, should be done “in the Lord,” who holds all of us in his hands, where we are always together.

My friends, there is one goodbye that I believe we will all find awkward, and not just me. And that is when we say goodbye for the last time when a loved one dies. Like I feel departing after a meal or a meeting or movie, we all just stand by their bedside, and don’t know what to say or do because grief and pain paralyze us. Sometimes the dying person is waiting for the family to give them permission to go home to heaven. They are waiting for us to say goodbye, but we don’t want to, or we don’t know how.

This final awkward adios might be a good occasion to remember how the Church has changed goodbye (like at the end of St. Paul’s letters) into greetings (like at the beginning of Mass). In other words, all goodbyes and greetings are simply two sides of the same Christian coin called faith in Jesus.

We are always carried in the Lord’s loving hands, whether we can see each other or not, whether I am in Fort Smith, and my nephew Isaac serving in the Army is in Poland, whether my brother Paul is in Fayetteville and his deceased son, Noah, is in heaven. When we are close to Christ, we are close to each other.

We have had a lot of funerals lately. Yesterday we had the funeral for Iker Javier Garcia, a two year-old boy. Next Tuesday we will gather for the funeral of Jeff Herrell. The Catholic funeral rites are another eloquent example of how goodbyes are changed by Jesus’ resurrection into greetings. Al the end of the funeral, the priest says these comforting words:

“Before we go our separate ways, let us take leave of our brother/sister. May our farewell express our affection for him/her, may it ease our sadness and strengthen our hope. One day we shall joyfully greet him/her again when the love of Christ, which conquers all things, destroys even death itself.” And on that great day of resurrection, I will no longer experiences any more awkward goodbyes.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Women Deacons, Part 2

Women Deacons, Part 2

11/09/2023

Now, in order to envision women as deacons we have to rethink the theology of the diaconate, which always begins by redefining terminology, that is, vocabulary. We need to learn some new vocab words. One highly charged word in the Catholic lexicon is the term “cleric” from which we get the familiar, “clergy.” Now, clergy is not uniquely a Catholic concept. When I go to visit patients at Baptist Hospital, for instance, I hang my “Clergy” decal from my review mirror and park in the space reserved for the clergy. At the hospital that concept includes the wide array of ministers not just of a Christian persuasion, but of all religious ilk.

But when the word “clergy” or “cleric” is used in a technical sense in canon law, it carries a very specific and restricted meaning. In canon 266§1, we read: “Through the reception of the diaconate (ordination as a deacon), a person becomes a cleric.” In other words, prior to being ordained as a deacon, canon law considers someone a “lay person”. But once you become a deacon (and of course later as a priest or bishop that designation does not change), you are in an entirely different class of Christian. Really in the world of canon law, there are only two kinds of people: clerics and laity (or lay persons). Everyone belongs to one group or the other, and canon law draws a bright red line of demarcation between these two classes of Christians. Crossing over that line of diaconate ordination to the other side is like crossing a border from one country to another, where you enjoy different rights and responsibilities, new privileges and possibilities.

Now, this particular point of drawing this bright red line between clergy and laity has not always been drawn at this exact juncture. You have perhaps heard the phrase “moving the goalposts”? It means to change the rules of the game and how someone scores a goal and wins. Well, that is what the Church did with the timing of when someone becomes a cleric. In the last century, there were two revisions or updates, of the Code of Canon Law, once in 1917 and again in 1983. And those two Codes drew that line of demarcation between laity and clergy at two different moments. As I just said, the 1983 Code drew that line at “the reception of the diaconate.” But the 1917 Code drew that line much earlier in the process of becoming a priest, namely, at tonsure.

Now, what on earth is tonsure? That was a significant step toward the priesthood, where a young man would have his hair shaved on the crown of his head. You may have seen that bald spot on priests in old black-and-white movies. It was a symbol of humility – believe me, it is very humbling being bald – and a rejection of worldly things, like vanity. In the old Code, therefore, when a man received tonsure, he was introduced into the ranks of the clergy, even though he was still several steps away from being ordained as a deacon, priest, or bishop. My point here is to recognize the fact that the “goalposts” of who is “clergy” have been moved before, and therefore it is conceivable that they can be moved again. And that is what I suggest we do if the Church chooses to have women deacons, namely, we should redefine the word “cleric.”

As I said at the outset, if women become deacons, we have to rethink what it means to be a deacon. One aspect of that rethinking would include no longer designating a female deacon as a cleric. Put differently, we would move the goalposts again (like we did back in 1983), that line separating the world of laity and clergy, that is, move it from diaconate ordination to priestly ordination. In other words, someone would not become a "cleric" until he was ordained as a priest.

I grant this is a rather radical suggestion, and it immediately raises other questions and objections. One important question concerns the indelible mark that is received in the sacrament of Holy Orders. You may know that three sacraments are received only once and thus never repeated: Baptism, Confirmation, and Holy Orders. One reason they are unrepeatable is because of the “indelible mark” they confer and which is permanent. A further rethinking required in this scenario I am suggesting is that while women would receive the sacrament of Holy Orders as a deacon, and consequently the indelible mark of Orders, their role and ministry as deaconesses would be restructured because they are not considered clerics. A women could be a deacon but not a cleric. She could not take my parking spot at Baptist Hospital.

One approach to restructuring or reshuffling of responsibilities to non-clerical deacons might be that those duties that belong properly and ordinarily to deacons (when they used to be clerics) would be transferred to priests and bishops (who are still clerics). Hence, baptizing, marrying, burying, preaching, etc. and any other ministries deacons currently perform ordinarily would be reserved to priests alone. Nonetheless, when circumstances warrant, and there is a genuine pastoral emergency, deacons (now either male or female) might be called upon to minister to the community in these capacities that lay persons could. In a sense, we have “called a spade a spade” and acknowledged the full truth that deacons are in reality glorified lay persons.

This transfer of ministerial roles and responsibilities should not shock or surprise us because it is not new. Since Vatican II, liturgical roles originally reserved to men, and sometimes only to men studying for priesthood, have been redistributed to lay persons, including women. You may remember altar servers used to only be boys, but now there are girls. We even underwent a vocabulary change, from saying “altar boys” to now saying “altar servers.” The same was true for Eucharistic ministers, and lectors, and even ushers, who were originally called “porters” (from the Latin “porta” meaning city gate or door) because they open the door to welcome people to church. All these ministries were originally reserved for men, especially those in seminary formation.

The real challenge for the Church and for Catholic Christians would be to understand how someone can receive the sacrament of Holy Orders and yet still be considered a lay person (not a cleric). But this new challenge is simply the mirror opposite of the challenge Catholics confronted prior to Vatican II. Those older Catholics had to understand how someone could be a cleric (because they received tonsure) and still had not been ordained. In other words, when we distinguish the “clerical state” from “Holy Orders”, we can envision a place for women as deacons.

Let me give the last word to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which does a beautiful job of juggling these three ranks of Holy Orders with their respective nuances. We read: “Catholic doctrine, expressed in the liturgy, the Magisterium, and the constant practice of the Church, recognizes that there are two degrees of ministerial priesthood in the priesthood of Christ: the episcopate (bishops) and the presbyterate (priests). The diaconate is intended to help and serve them. For this reason, the term sacerdos (Latin for priest) in current usage denotes bishops and priests but not deacons. Yet Catholic doctrine teaches that the degrees of priestly participation (episcopate and presbyterate) and the degree of service (diaconate) are all three conferred by a sacramental act called ‘ordination,' that is, by the sacrament of Holy Orders” (no. 1554). The only slight revision I would add to that eloquent passage is that "sacerdos" and "cleric" should be equivalent in canon law and theology. And incidentally, we should always remember that the greatest in the Kingdom of God are not the ministers but the saints, which is what we should all (clerics and laity) really be striving for.

Praised be Jesus Christ!