Bridget Mary: We rejoice as we gather
to celebrate the ordination of Shelley Gilchrist as a deacon.
Shelley
‘s call is rooted in the Gospel of Jesus to celebrate the holiness of life and
creation as the face of the holy among us. Shelley has come to this special evening
in a lifelong desire to serve others. Whether befriending the outcast in
elementary school to her current occupation as a chaplain for hospice, Shelley
has been called to a ministry of presence; a desire to stand beside the most
vulnerable among us. She served as an
educator in public high schools and was often a person of support for the kids
who had been branded with a label. She
holds a master’s degree in Fine Arts and has had more than three years of
theological training. Through CPE,
Shelley was introduced to Diane Dougherty and the Federation of Christian
Ministries. In her pursuit of Commissioning, Shelley met her dear friends and
mentors Miriam Picconi and Wanda Russell. While attending their faith group,
Shelley began to experience the love and prophetic ministry of the Association
of Roman Catholic Women Priests. Reading
our mission statement of inclusivity and justice struck a deep chord in
Shelley’s heart. After a period of
discernment, the call to serve and work toward full equality for women in the
Church was clear and palpable. She asks
for your prayers as she begins her service as a deacon in the Association of
Roman Catholic Women Priests. “Here am I, God, send me,” is her daily prayer.
In our second reading, St. Paul commends Deacon
Phoebe as a leader and missionary in the community of Cenchreae near Corinth.
Phoebe was entrusted with the mission to proclaim Paul’s letter to the house
churches in Rome. Her patronage assured Paul of financial support, hospitality
and prestigious connections. This seems to indicate that Phoebe was a
well-educated woman of independent means. Paul’s letter implies that not only
did Phoebe use her resources to help him, but she also assisted people who were
suffering, poor and oppressed. It seems evident from his commendation that Phoebe’s
preaching, and ministry made a powerful impact on Paul and on the first century
Church in Rome.
Contemporary scholars conclude that women
leaders like Phoebe, Junia and the other women greeted by Paul in Romans were
apostles, missionaries, and leaders of communities equal to and independent of
Paul. They hosted eucharistic celebrations in their homes and spread the good
news as followers of Jesus.
In Mary
and Early Christian Women: Hidden Leadership, Dr. Ally Kateusz reveals representations
of Mary Mother of Jesus in texts and images in the extracanonical gospels that provide
evidence of her as an authoritative leader of the apostles, high priest and
bishop. Her research shows evidence hidden for centuries by patriarchy on the
role of women in the early Church. In fact,
there are two artifacts that depict women and men in a gender –parallel liturgy
inside two prestigious churches - Old Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome and the
second in Hagia Sophia in Constantinople.
In fifth century Celtic Ireland, the stories
of St. Brigit of Kildare portray her as a bishop and abbess of a double
monastery of women and men, married and celibate who served the needy and who
celebrated the blessedness of creation.
So it is evident that from the beginning
Jesus called women to be disciples and treated them as equals, and women have
served God’s people as deacons, priests
and bishops in the early centuries of Christianity and are doing so today!
Shelley: Who doesn’t love
a great story? From our childhood days of bedtime books to the very intricate
“who done its” on Britbox, we love to suspend our disbelief and enter the
narrative of a well-told tale. Jesus
knew this. His parables are colorful,
simple, complex and life giving. Scripture is jam-packed with stories of
intrigue and in the case of our gospel reading, human suffering. Growing into a girl of about 12 or 13, the
“story of the woman with the issue of blood” began to demand my attention. One couldn’t escape her; she appeared in all
three synoptic gospels. I could not
fathom how horrendous this affliction must have been! In Sunday school this part of the narrative
was hurried over, however, and the emphasis was on the incredible faith of the
woman and the power of Jesus to heal. But I know now there is more for us; much
more.
Let’s
enter the story. Jesus had just returned
from a rigorous journey which included calming stormy seas and exorcisms. This crowd welcomed him enthusiastically. They knew him and waited expectantly for his
teaching and companionship. During the welcoming, Jairus appeared at his feet;
a ruler from the synagogue! Weeping he said, “My daughter, my only daughter who
is but twelve years old is dying. Please Jesus, please come to my home and heal
her!” Jesus heard the sorrow and trust
in Jairus’ voice and quickened his pace toward his home.
But
there was another soul desperate for the love Jesus offered. She could not travel with the crowd. She was
unclean and had been for twelve excruciating years. It is not lost on a reader that Jairus’
daughter was twelve and had not yet entered puberty; she was clean. The woman, who may have been two or three times
her age, had been hemorrhaging for twelve years; she was unclean. There were twelve disciples, twelve tribes of
Israel, but the head of those tribes and the “The Twelve” did not face the
monthly shaming of menstruation, let alone twelve years of such agony. Is that
irony intentional?
The
laws of purity or who was in and who was out, were established long ago in the
book of Leviticus. Women were considered untouchable for their entire period
and seven days following. I am hopeful
that enough women were in sync in Israel’s villages that camaraderie of women
shared stories and maybe even told some jokes about their men. This strict stigma of uncleanliness even
covered childbirth. If a woman were lucky enough to deliver a male child, she
was considered impure for 40 days. If
one had a girl, well, you were cloistered for eighty. This very God-given
natural cycle; essential for the continuation of all creation, was deemed
unclean by the priestly patriarchs. Their mindset; “I don’t understand
this…it’s weird and scary. We don’t live
with this, this thing, so it must be wrong.” Sigh. Did mothers pass babies
around at arm’s length and with kid gloves? Was there a “first class” curtain
separating parts of their humble abodes?
Returning
to our woman in the gospel, how did she exist from day to day? Was she within
her sister’s household in some hovel in the back? Was food passed under a
curtain or door? Did she try to cleanse
herself? If she did, where? How many times did her caregiver need to wash her
own clothes just for providing the bare necessities for another? But what if
there were no sibling? When thinking of her I feel her profound sense of
loneliness and quiet desperation.
Late one morning she heard a ruckus and calls
from many of “Jesus, Jesus!” She must have quietly peeked out and realized it
was that rabbi! It was this Jesus, whom others had said could bring hope, peace
and yes, even healing! She had spent every last bit of her tiny inheritance
seeking help from doctors, but nothing worked.
Maybe, just maybe if she could meet him or even touch the tassel from
his prayer shawl she might have respect and inclusion from her village? But the
crowd was moving more quickly now and she must hurry to catch a glimpse of this
Jesus! Breathing hard, she pulled her
emaciated body up, grabbed a cloak and hesitatingly walked to the edge of the
crowd; no one noticed her. “I can, I will do this” she thought and head down,
nudged her way to the back of the rabbi. Closing her eyes and offering a quiet
prayer to YHWH, she took hold of that worn, narrow, knotted rope. And then
there was something. She took a quick inhalation of breath and she felt a
spark, no, it was like a strong connection; like seeing an expected loved one
from afar. Her breathing finally began to slow and she nearly stood upright.
She heard a voice said, “Who touched me?” The sound of Jesus’ voice had the
energy she felt. The crowd was standing very close to Jesus and now she hoped
she would not be noticed. But the
teacher repeated, “I felt the power go out of me.” The Divine love in Jesus had
connected with the purity of love within the “unclean woman.” As this woman
knelt before Jesus and words of apology came tumbling from her, Jesus looked
her in the eyes, took her hand and said gently, “Daughter, go in peace. Your
faith has made you whole.” Imagine the gasps of the crowd. Jesus, a rabbi, was not concerned about being
unclean. Jesus saw this woman and she truly saw him. Richard Rohr states,
“Jesus rejects violence and passivity.” Jesus did not just walk away and say,
“Please stop berating that woman. That
is not a loving way to behave.” Jesus acted and so must we.
We
know we have not yet shaken off the patriarchy that attempts to silence women,
not just in the Church but in the culture as well. This mindset of dominance
leads to abuse and at the very least being called “nasty” by some. But with our growing numbers, voices and commitment,
that lie is beginning to change. We will no longer be passive. We are letting
go of our egoistic selves and seeing the Divine in each other. We are prayerfully discerning how we can
best light that spark of connection into a growing and holy fire of passion and
light.
This
is the story we are writing. And I am
living, tangible truth that stories can take unexpected and exciting turn. We
are somewhere in the middle of this narrative and the best is yet to come.
