The Debate Continues: Women and Diaconate

Let me start with one preliminary observation: There are numerous unresolved issues related to a contemporary theology of the renewed order of deacons in the Church today; the ordination of women as deacons is simply one of those issues.  In my own research, writing and teaching on the diaconate, I have not focused exclusively on this issue, feeling that other fundamental matters needed to be attended to first.  However, the question of ordaining women as deacons can help us address issues related to the nature of diaconal ministry today.  And, for full disclosure, I have had the pleasure of looking into this issue with more intensity as one of the authors of Women Deacons: Past, Present, Future with Gary Macy and Phyllis Zagano.

The new Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), now-Archbishop (soon-to-be Cardinal) Gerhard Ludwig Mueller has written on the diaconate and priesthood, as well as participating as a theologian on the International Theological Commission (ITC), which developed a paper on the diaconate.  Ten years ago, he was interviewed on this question as part of that effort, and that is available here. I would observe, and will detail below, that much has happened SINCE that interview which would lead me to question whether he would still hold some of the same views today. 

I bring all this up because the mention of Mueller's decade-old interview sparked quite a debate over on Deacon Greg Kandra's Facebook page, and some points were made there that I think need to be addressed.  One of the comments made was the following:

"The all-male diaconate definitively and historically emerges from the ministry of the apostles in Acts. Just as Jesus did with the Twelve, the Apostles do with the "Seven"--both excluding women. I would suggest reading our new Prefect's book "Priesthood and Diaconate" as well as Martimort's "Deaconesses" for the historical context that makes clear that, while the Church ordained "deaconesses" as a separate "order" in the Church, the order of deaconesses was never viewed as a participation in the Sacrament of Holy Orders any more than other orders were (porter, lector, acolyte, etc). While there has been no contemporary clarification that women cannot be deacons (though they obviously *can* be deaconesses if that "order" is ever restored), the history/practice on this point is explicit both in Scripture and Tradition."

1) The claim is made that an all male diaconate "definitively and historically" is grounded in Acts 6-8 and the selection of the Seven.  The commenter later admits that a separate group known as "deaconesses" existed later, although not on a sacramental par with male deacons (more about that later).  However, on this first point I'm concerned about the terms "definitively" and "historically," especially based on a reading of Acts.  Scripture alone cannot sustain this claim, since the passage does not explicitly refer to the Seven as "deacons."  Certainly scripture knows of deacons (one need only turn to the letters of Paul and the pastoral epistles to find that evidence), but Luke does not refer to the Seven as deacons.  It is later Tradition (at least 200 years later) that begins to refer to Stephen and his "classmates" as the first deacons.  (In fact, the only deacon referred to by name in the New Testament is actually Phoebe, who is referred to as deacon -- not by the feminine form diakonissa, but by the masculine form diakonos, leading some scholars to suggest that "deacon" has already emerged as the title of a particular office in the ancient Church.)  So, I would be very hesitant to attach a "males only" argument simply to the passage from Acts, especially using terms such as "definitively" and "historically."

2) The fact is, the Church has never spoken "definitively" on the subject of the ordination of women as deacons.  The term "definitive" was applied to the question of ordaining women to the PRESBYTERATE by Pope John Paul II in his encyclical Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, but that is a question distinct from the diaconate.  I would also point out that the working document released by the ITC (with Mueller as a member) also agreed that the Church has not yet spoken definitively on the subject, and that "it pertains to the Church's ministry of discernment" to address the matter.

3) The commenter suggests that people read Mueller's text on Priesthood and Diaconate as well as Martimort's work Deaconesses.  That's good advice, but incomplete.  First, Martimort was not writing in a vacuum.  He was engaged in an extended scholarly debate with Roger Gryson, who took an opposing view of the same historical evidence; so, I would encourage people to read BOTH men and analyze their arguments.  Second, this debate took place in the 1970's, and the historical record has been greatly augmented by more recent research, both in Eastern and Western sources.  Simply put, we have more historical data to consider today than those two scholars did.

4) Mueller and Martimort would agree that women were commissioned/installed/ordained as "deaconesses" but that this role was not sacramentally equal to that of male deacons, nor was their ministry on a par with male deacons.  The argument was that such women were installed to provide ministry to other women.  However, the historical record reveals that there is considerable variety in the roles "deaconesses" and "women deacons" (sometimes these terms are used equivalently, sometimes not) actually played in various cultures and places.  Furthermore, recent study of ordination rituals indicates that some women were ordained WITHIN the sanctuary (as contrasted with blessings and installations which took place OUTSIDE the sanctuary), with the laying on of hands by the bishop, and even -- in some cases -- the use of the exact same prayer of consecration used for both male and female deacons.  I am not suggesting that this practice was universally followed; but I am saying that it did take place alongside the historical practice alluded to by Martimort and Mueller.  Any attempt to justify one practice or another is methodologically and historically incomplete, since all of these practices were done, and there was great diversity of understanding and practice.

5) Mueller and others often argue for the "unicity" of the Sacrament of Order, so that what applies to one order applies to the others.  Certainly we all agree that there is but one Sacrament of Order (now described as the orders of deacon, presbyter and bishop, although until 1972 the sacrament included subdeacon (a major order), and the minor orders of porter, lector, exorcist and acolyte), the way these orders relate to one another has received considerable official attention over the last 20 years or so.  The result of this work, led largely by then-Cardinal Ratzinger while he was Prefect of the CDF, has been to develop the notion of two modes of participation within the one Sacrament of Order.  Namely, there is the diaconal mode of participation and the priestly mode of participation which is shared by presbyters and bishops.  "Priests" (presbyters and bishops), we are told, "receive sacred power to act in the person of Christ the Head," while deacons "receive a special strength [vigor specialis] to serve the People of God" in a ministry of Word, Sacrament and Charity.  Such distinctions within the one Sacrament of Order are quite helpful in overcoming the sense that the diaconate is simply an abridged, or lesser, form of the priesthood itself.   The image I often use in teaching on this subject is that of a teeter-totter: one the one hand, there is the unicity of Order; on the other is the diversity within the Order.  In my own theological opinion, one must keep the teeter-totter balanced.  If we go too far to the side of unicity, we lose the inherent communio of the Order; if we go too far to the side of diversity, we risk creating two or three separate sacraments.  According to other members of the ITC, then-Father Mueller and his colleagues engaged in quite interesting debates during their sessions!

6) Finally, I would simply caution against "elevating" Archbishop Mueller's theological judgments now that he is Prefect of the CDF.  Just as the pope himself continues to publish his own personal theological research under the name "Joseph Ratzinger" -- realizing that his function as theologian is quite distinct from his role as the Pope -- so, too, must we continue to distinguish what "Gerhard Mueller's" own theological research might support contrasted to positions he may take as Prefect of the CDF.

In conclusion, I would simply affirm the official position of the Church: that the question of ordaining women as deacons remains -- according to papal and curial pronouncements -- an unresolved question, and the call to continue "the Church's ministry of discernment" on the question is ongoing.

A Comment on Comments

Gentle readers,

I have decided to join my blogging friends, like Deacon Greg Kandra, who do not have a "comments" section on their blogs.  Let me explain this decision.

I'm a teacher, and I thrive on the give-and-take of the classroom.  However, I find that here on the blog I have a tendency to want to respond and reply to each and every comment, and there's simply insufficient time and energy to do that.

So, if any of my reflections inspire comments, corrections, or uncontrollable rage, feel free to e-mail me off-line.

Thanks for understanding!

God bless,
Deacon Bill

On "Magisterium": Who or What? UPDATED

One of the most misunderstood and misused words associated with the Church is the Latin term magisterium.  If a quick survey of certain web sites is any indication, many people seem to think that magisterium is a "who": the Pope, for example, or the Pope and the world's bishops, or the Pope and the curia in Rome.  Actually, this is not accurate.  Magisterium, linguistically, is a neuter noun; it is a "what", not a "who."  It is "the teaching authority of the Church."  And, as we all know, "the Church" is more than its episcopal leadership.  Let's consider a few basics.

Why do we claim any sort of teaching authority at all?  It seems rather presumptuous to think that we human beings can teach with authority about spiritual matters.  Remember that this was shocking to some of Jesus' own listeners, when they observed that "this man teaches with authority."  Magisterium is founded on the promise of Christ that the Holy Spirit will remain present and active in the community of disciples.  Consider John 14:26:  "The Advocate, the holy Spirit that the Father will send in my name -- he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you."  It is the Holy Spirit who teaches, no human authority.

The Holy Spirit is given to everyone at Baptism, and indeed, through all of the sacramental life of the Church.  In the Middle Ages a distinction was introduced between the ecclesia docens (the teaching Church) and the ecclesia discens (the learning Church).  However, of course, all of us participate, in a variety of degrees, in the one and the same teaching-and-learning Church.  The role of the ordained is often highlighted.  Vatican II spoke of the teaching role of bishops and presbyters as their primary obligation (the primum officium); subsequent documents have extended this as well to the renewed (permanent) diaconate as well.  While one can sometimes read (usually in very derogatory terms) that others are claiming magisterial authority as well (consider some recent nasty blog posts about "the magisterium of the nuns" when criticizing the LCWR, for example), the medieval Church DID extend its understanding of magisterium beyond the bishops themselves.  No less a theological giant than Thomas Aquinas in the 13th Century, wrote of the magisterium of university theologians; at the great Council of Trent in the 16th Century, and at Councils before that, the theological experts were often given a vote on conciliar texts!  Trent, for example, referred to the theologians as minor theologians and the bishops as major theologians.  Some votes included them all; some were restricted to the bishops alone.

UPDATE:  After my initial post, I was doing some research on Blessed John XXIII's opening address o the world's bishops at the Second Vatican Council.  I was struck by how he used the term magisterium, clearly using it the term accurately, and in the way we all used to use it until relatively recently.  Look at how he introduces the term at the beginning of his address:

In calling this vast assembly of bishops, the latest and humble successor to the Prince of the Apostles who is addressing you intended to assert once again the magisterium, which is unfailing and perdures until the end of time, in order that this magisterium, taking into account the errors, requirements and opportunities of our time, might be presented in exceptional form to all people throughout the world.

Clearly, the pope is not referring to the college of bishops, with pope at the head of that college.  Here's another wonderful example.  The pope turns his attention to the previous 20 ecumenical (general) councils of the Church:

Ecumenical Councils, whenever they are assembled, are a solemn celebration of the union of Christ and His Church, and hence lead to the universal radiation of truth, to the proper guidance of individuals in domestic and social life, to the strengthening of spiritual energies for a perennial uplift toward real and everlasting goodness.  The testimony of this extraordinary magisterium of the Church in the succeeding epochs of these twenty centuries of Christian history stands before us collected in numerous and imposing volumes, which are the sacred patrimony of our ecclesiastical archives, here in Rome and in the more noted libraries of the entire world.

Finally, consider this famous passage:

The substance of the ancient doctrine of the deposit of faith is one thing, and the way in which it is presented is another. And it is the latter that must be taken into great consideration with patience if necessary, everything being measured in the forms and proportions of a magisterium which is predominantly pastoral in character.

"Good Pope John" (as the Italians still refer to him) shows us the proper understanding of this very complex term.

We are all expected to "follow the magisterium of the Church."  But this means so much more than simple obedience to the institutional structure of the external Church!  After all, bishops alone are not given full knowledge of all religious Truth simply by virtue of their ordination as bishops!  Like everyone else, they too grow "in wisdom, age and grace."  "Following the magisterium" is not some kind of loyalty test; it means being attuned to the full "teaching office" found within the entire People of God, great and small.

Up and Running: Back to Blogging

It's been a month or so since I took my sabbatical from blogging.  As I indicated then, I was feeling quite overwhelmed with work responsibilities, teaching, traveling and writing.  Over the last several weeks I've been involved in all of those things, including attending the Catholic Theological Society of America (CTSA) Convention in St. Louis during which I gave a paper, then directing the diaconate retreat for the Diocese of Pueblo at a retreat center in Colorado Springs. The highlight, however, has been the opportunity to take some much needed time for family: my wife and I have had the chance to visit our family spread out around the country.  We've seen our four children and all nine grandchildren (which included meeting our newest granddaughter for the first time!), my Mother and sisters, and many other family members.  I even got to baptize a new great-nephew!  It's been a truly blessed time.  This weekend, before heading back to the office, some of my former students -- now all involved in various ministries -- will be gathering for a small reunion.  All in all, then, this has been a very life-giving time, for which I am eternally grateful!

Now is the time to return to the blog.  You might notice that I've done a little refreshing of the design to signal my renewed effort.  More important, while I will certainly find things to blog about, it would also be helpful to know of any particular questions that you may have, so feel free to send along questions and suggestions for blog entries.

May all who pass by find this a place of peaceful yet challenging reflection.

Signing Off. . . at least for now

Gentle Readers,

As has been obvious, I have found it increasingly difficult to post on this blog with any regularity for quite some time.  The fact is, I have dedicated much of my professional and ministerial life for the last 25 years to promoting, studying and teaching about the renewed diaconate in the Catholic Church.  I had hoped that starting a blog would facilitate some of that effort, and it has been, for me, a real act of love.

However, I have found that various other priorities -- family, diocesan ministry, teaching, parish ministry, writing (I am currently working on four book projects, plus I'm a regular contributor to Priest and Deacon Digest) and traveling to direct retreats and to present at convocations of priests and deacons -- are just keeping me from being able to give the necessary attention to the poor blog.  What I need is a good blog editor who would be willing to take that on for me!  Comments from readers critical of my sporadic postings (as well as criticizing what I DO choose to post; seems like others had a view of what this blog -- my personal blog, no less -- should be!) have confirmed me in this decision.

So, at least for the foreseeable future, I'm signing off the blog.  If you have any need to contact me, please find me on Facebook or e-mail me at billditewig@msn.com.

God bless all here, and be good servants to each other!

Bill

Indiana Jones and Liturgical Translation

On several levels, I find the recent article by John R. Donahue, SJ in Commonweal to be a brilliant and insightful example of liturgical and theological scholarship at its best.  In fact, I have begun giving the article to students as a good example of academic methodology.  Read the whole article right here.  In "Cup or Chalice? The Large Implications of a Small Change," Fr. Donahue focuses on just one of the recent liturgical changes, and one that seems fairly innocuous at first.  But small changes considered cumulatively can add up to something quite significant.  Before turning to specific concerns, let's first consider some basic tenets of communications.

Whether we refer to the vessel used by Jesus as a "cup" or a "chalice" may not seem like much at first, but as Fr. Donahue illustrates, it matters greatly.  What some of those involved in these translations seem to have missed is something that every first year student of communications theory understands well.  Let's consider some basics.  We begin with an idea which we desire to communicate to another person.  It's deep inside my head and heart, however, so I have to find a way to encode what I mean in a variety of ways.  Perhaps I will choose words as these symbols; perhaps I will draw a picture or sing a song; perhaps I will simply do something that expresses the inner reality.  Once the internal message is "encoded" we need to find the best medium by which to transmit that message. Perhaps I will write a book or compose a poem.  And then comes the challenging part: I know what I want to say, and I've worked hard to find the best words and other symbols to assist in communicating that message; however, the recipient of my communication must be able to receive and "decode" those words and other symbols in a manner that comes close to replicating my original meaning.  With any luck, that internal reality that was in me has now found resonance in the other person.  In other words, it's not just important that I get the words right; the recipients need to be able to "get them right" as well, or any attempt at communication will be lost.  How do we know whether this has happened?  This takes place through the most important part of the communications loop: the feedback loop.  This is how we know whether or not our message has been understand as we intended.  How many times in life have we had to say, "Oh, that's not what I meant!" when someone responded to something we've said or written or done?

After seven months of the "new" translation, what is being communicated via that "feedback loop"?  Fr. Donahue mentions the stumbling over prayers (especially, I would note, the Collects) by presiders, the "resignation" of all to the various archaic English expressions which were supposed to evoke a sense of elevation, reverence and awe, according to the proponents of the translation.  Instead, the language in many cases simply sounds and feels remote and artificial according to the many comments made by parishioners. Furthermore, and this is something not mentioned by Fr. Donahue, but something that  I feel is quite significant: From what I have experienced over these months in assisting as deacon at many Masses presided over by many different priests has been a tendency to "re-write" (especially the Collects) the prayers, usually on the fly, in order to help them be more understandable in proclaimed form.  While I applaud the pastoral sensitivity involved, I would simply point out that this opens the door to increasing adaptation of the very texts which its designers sought to avoid!

More disturbing, of course, is the further "distancing" caused by many of the choices made in the new translation.  By focusing exclusively on the Latin text, and despite the claims of proponents to the contrary, we have distanced our liturgical language from our more ancient scriptural and liturgical roots.  "Faithfulness to the Latin" -- and even how well that claim stands up to scrutiny is a matter of debate in itself! -- has undercut the intentions of both Dei Verbum and Sacrosanctum Concilium by cutting us off not only from the more ancient terms found in Greek, Aramaic and Hebrew, but from the rich tapestry of meanings those ancient terms sought to convey.  Vatican II wanted the sacraments to be characterized by a "noble simplicity", and in language accessible to all with ease.

Turning to Fr. Donahue's specific question, I would only add that, in my opinion, the repeated use of "chalice" constitutes an anachronism.  The term "chalice" in modern times has come to mean the kind of liturgical vessel familiar to many at Mass; we don't speak of wine "chalices" in our homes, or even in fancy restaurants.  The term is almost exclusively used in reference to a church vessel.  As Fr. Donahue points out, there was a Greek version of a more ornate liturgical vessel reflected by its own Greek word, but the fact is, such a Temple cup was NOT what Christ used, nor is that what is referred to throughout most of Judeo-Christian scriptures!  What IS referred to is a cup, plain and simple.  To retroject the word "chalice" into the liturgical language is, in short, anachronistic, misplaced, and misleading.  Put simply, the focus of the translation seems to be on the first half of the communications loop: finding the right symbols and meanings to translate the Latin text, without paying any real significant attention to the second half of the loop: How will all of this be received, translated and interpreted by the people receiving the message?

I find it interesting and amusing that even Hollywood understands all of this quite well, and perhaps the proponents of the change from "cup" to "chalice" might have benefited from re-watching that great theological epic, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (which, I might point out, was all about the quest for the Holy Grail: the CUP that Jesus used at the Last Supper).  In the climactic scene the villain and the hero must choose which vessel was the one used by Christ. The villain chooses the most ornate "chalice" of all the vessels there, saying that this was truly worthy of "the King of Kings"; in doing so, in "choosing poorly" (as the ancient guardian proclaims), the villain is doomed.  The hero, conversely, chooses the "cup" of a carpenter's son; he has "chosen wisely" and is able to find renewed life.

As a deacon, linguist and theologian, I have found the journey of "reception" of the newest translation of the Roman Missal to be a mixed bag at best.  These "little" examples ("cup" vs. "chalice", "many" vs "all", and of course who can forget "dewfall," "consubstantial" and "oblation"?) add up to an effective rejection of the positions taken by the world's Catholic bishops gathering in council at Vatican II: that the liturgy should be expressed in language easily understood, grounded in the most ancient Tradition of the church, and in ways that would ensure the "full, conscious and active participation" of all.  I find that just the opposite is happening, and that many of our parishioners are finding that when coupled with so many other examples of ecclesial "distancing" from the real lives and problems of people, this becomes just one more reason to walk away from the institutional dimensions of the Church.

The symbols chosen for us are not being interpreted and understood as intended, which means we must go back to the drawing board and try again.  We must choose wisely.

Vatican II, Conscience, Error and Rights

Much has been written lately about "conscience" as it relates to public policy in the United States.  There have been statements about policies which would expect "the Church" or "institutions of the Church" (such as hospitals and schools) to "violate their consciences."  It seems to me that a helpful and necessary first step in reflecting on all of this is a quick review of the Church's teaching on the nature and exercise of "conscience."  To do that, we turn to the Second Vatican Council.

In the Council's Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (#16) we read: "Deep within his conscience a person discovers a law which he has not laid upon himself but which he must obey. Its voice, ever calling him to love and to do what is good and to avoid evil, tells him inwardly at the right moment: do this, shun that. For a person has in his heart a law inscribed by God. His dignity lies in observing this law, and by it he will be judged. His conscience is man's most secret core, and his sanctuary."  This quote gives us one of the best descriptions out there about the conscience.  Notice that this is not a corporate conscience, but a radically individual conscience: "There he is alone with God whose voice echoes in his depths."

Later in the same document (#76), the public impact of individual conscience is described: "It is of supreme importance, especially in a pluralistic society, to work out a proper vision of the relationship between the political community and the Church, and to distinguish clearly between the activities of Christians, acting individually or collectively in their own name as citizens guided by the dictates of Christian conscience, and their activity acting along with their pastors in the name of the Church."  Perhaps this is precisely the point we find ourselves struggling with at this point of time in our political life: we are involved in trying to "work out" that vision.

Cardinal Bea with Blessed John XXIII

Cardinal Bea

The other day, during a conversation on some of these issues, a person quoted the old cliche that "error has no rights" and, in his opinion, that ended the argument!  I came across a wonderful insight from one of the great leaders of the Second Vatican Council: Cardinal Augustin Bea.  Cardinal Bea, a Bavarian Jesuit and a close friend of Pope John XXIII, was a long-time scripture scholar who had been Pope Pius XII's confessor.  Pope John created Fr. Bea a Cardinal (he was not a bishop) in 1959, and he became the first head of the office promoting Christian Unity and the relationship of the Catholic Church to other faiths.  On 13 January 1963, after the second session of the Council, Cardinal Bea gave a lecture at Pro Deo University in Rome.  During his talk, he spoke of the liberty of conscience and that he would be working on the document which would address "the inviolability of the human conscience as the final right of every person, no matter what his religious beliefs or ideological allegiance."  He referred to the axiom that "error has no right to exist," but he proclaimed that although this is a popular expression used "glibly by"certain Catholic apologists," this statement is "sheer nonsense."  He correctly (in my opinion) points out that "error is an abstract concept incapable of either rights or obligations."  Rather, it is human persons who have rights, and even when persons are in error "their right to freedom of conscience was absolute."

I'll wrap this up for now, although I'm sure we will all continue to reflect on all of this over the days, weeks and months ahead.