Column Priest question simmers in the family soup
By KRIS BERGGREN
It would be nice if kids came with a
recipe for success. Mine would read something like this: Sprinkle with kisses
once in a while, speak to the child gently every day, engage in periodic
outdoor exercise, add siblings (optional), educate for 12 to 16 years, and
voilá, a reasonably well-adjusted adult with a purpose in life.
In reality, raising a family is more like a mulligan stew, where
you throw in what is available and theres no such thing as the same
dinner twice.
The secret ingredient comes from the kids themselves. They have a
way of spicing things up by thinking out loud. Its funny how the really
piquant topics -- the coriander and cumin equivalent -- tend to come up in the
car. Among them, The Sex Question: So, how does the sperm from the dad
get together with the egg from the mom, anyway? When I told them, they
laughed. I guess it could have been worse.
The latest episode of Stump the Cook was The Priest Question.
Mom, I want to be a priest when I grow up, I heard
from the back seat of the car one day. The only problem, it was my 6-year-old
daughter making the statement.
Her brother quickly countered, Women cant be priests,
right, Mom? This was way harder than The Sex Question. It seemed
inconceivable that I should have to tell my daughter she cannot dream of
becoming a priest in her own church, as ludicrous as telling her she cannot be
a doctor, a cook, a zookeeper -- all occupations in which she has claimed
interest.
Weellll ... not now, not in the Catholic church, I was
forced to reply. But there are other churches with women
priests.
At age 6, she is bound to vacillate at least a thousand times in
her formative years before she really begins to focus on her larger purpose in
life. But how many kids vocations -- and I use the term in its broadest
sense -- are indeed spawned in early childhood? My daughter has grown up
watching her parents and other adults she knows speak from the pulpit and offer
the eucharistic elements. She already exhibits a great appreciation for the
theatrical elements of ritual; she can be keenly compassionate, and she is
energized by being around people -- all prerequisites, I would hope, for study
of priesthood.
Could my daughter one day be forced to choose between leaving her
church and relinquishing her dream?
A few years ago I attended the ordination of a woman to the
Episcopal diaconate. It was truly a pleasure and an honor to witness her being
welcomed by the rite of induction into official leadership and service of her
church. It left me feeling oddly hollow about my own church and the knowledge
that I and millions like me are excluded from the inside ranks. Oh, sure, we
can volunteer all we want, serve on the parish council, get degrees in
theology, send our kids to Catholic school, give til it hurts to the Annual
Catholic Appeal and to every charity and capital campaign the church can come
up with. These are all worthy and valued contributions to our communal faith
life.
But my daughters and I just dont have what it takes to be
leaders. Its another version of barefoot and pregnant.
I cant help but feel that we (my daughters and I and
our kind) are still perceived -- despite endless elocutions and
epistolary reams assuring us our place in the sun -- as being gifted, but not
quite gifted enough to be considered equal to the responsibilities of ordained
leadership. Are the powers that be so afraid of how our varied collective
feminine experience as mothers, birthers, servants, wives, helpers, sisters and
daughters would inform our leadership style?
Church teaching on public and personal matters provides a
framework for decision-making about our own behavior. Now, as throughout the
ages, it helps to have some guidelines -- a recipe, if you will -- for life.
But even the best recipes can be enhanced by expanding on the traditional way
of doing things.
For example, my fathers wife, a wonderful cook with a proud
Italian background, taught me once to make a frittata, a kind of super-omelet
made of eggs and vegetables. Its not difficult, but it requires time and
attention -- and the proper tools help a lot. She advised me to use that most
modern of conveniences, a nonstick pan. Not owning a nonstick pan but having a
keen yearning to eat a fritatta when I returned home, I impatiently tried it
with a regular pan. My hope of replicating her mouth-watering dish stuck to the
bottom of the pan with the burned eggs.
My point: If we always refused to incorporate new ideas in the
kitchen, many of us would probably still be roasting our food on sticks in
front of fires.
Given that in selected arenas related to sex and gender the church
remains closed to the school of human experience, is it any wonder that it is
hard, these days, to convince others -- and myself -- that one can be a
thinking person and a Catholic?
The Priest Question is by no means the last difficult discussion
Ill have with my kids. They have adolescence ahead of them, after all. In
the meantime, I throw this topic into the pot of our family intellectual soup
and let it simmer. And as I am asked by my church to pray for vocations,
Ill respond, stirring frequently.
Kris Berggren lives in Minneapolis.
National Catholic Reporter, April 16,
1999
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