Our cheers were for Archbishop Sarah, but also for our peers who minister despite excommunication and patriarchal stupidity.
Movements have moments. The installation of Sarah Elisabeth Mullally as Archbishop of Canterbury, on the Feast of the Annunciation 2026, was one such moment for women’s equality in religion. Several millennia after Mary allegedly agreed to be the mother of Jesus, an oncology nurse turned Anglican priest (later, Archbishop of London) became the first woman to sit in the Chair of Augustine, to be the “first among equals,” the spiritual head of the Anglican Communion worldwide. Chaucer never envisioned it.
The Roman Catholic Women’s Ordination Conference hosted a Zoom Watch Party, which I attended. The contrast between Anglican progress on and Roman Catholic rejection of women’s ministry made it a bittersweet occasion.
During the ceremony, we celebrated one stained glass ceiling broken into smithereens. We wept as millions of women living and dead were vindicated in our efforts to claim full humanity, the right to leadership in previously guarded sanctuaries. Our cheers were for Archbishop Sarah, but also for our peers and ourselves who minister despite excommunication (for ordained Roman Catholic Women Priests) and patriarchal stupidity.
For all the joy of the day, there’s much to consider as the Anglican Communion, made up of 40+ autonomous churches with 100+ million members, finds its postcolonial way. It’s not coincidental that a woman is now in a position that may well end up being reunderstood, even abolished. Discussions of this kind have been underway for some time, of course, but Mullally’s installation may accelerate the process.
The Anglican communion is growing rapidly in Africa and Asia where women are active participants. Having a woman in leadership isn’t new there, as the strong presence of African women clergy at the Canterbury event proved. Still, opponents of women’s ordination abound in Anglican circles.
A central postcolonial challenge is why the Archbishop of Canterbury is still the spiritual leader of the church, why England remains the center of the Anglican universe. Why not an African bishop, for example? These questions will be discussed in the next six years of Archbishop Mullally’s term. Even in a moment of celebration, the dynamics of colonialism require careful, respectful attention lest women, however inadvertently, reinforce and reinscribe them.
Anglican women in England were ordained to the priesthood in 1994 and to the episcopacy there in 2015. So the relatively quick rise of Archbishop Mullally to be primus inter pares, from being ordained as a priest in 2002 and consecrated as a bishop in 2015, is in itself remarkable. Finding a common or at least tolerable way forward will require the mediating ways of a skillful leader. I wish her luck.
Anglican women are relatively new to clerical status in a church founded in the 16th century. Florence Li Tim-Oi, the first Anglican woman priest, was ordained in 1944 in China. The ordaining bishop wasn’t a proponent of women’s ordination. He was a pastor with integrity committed to providing sacraments for Anglicans in Macau where there were no ordained men. The Rev. Florence, ordained a deacon in 1941, had been ministering sacramentally there, so it made perfect pastoral sense to make her a priest.
In 1974, 11 Episcopal women deacons in the United States were ordained validly, if illicitly, as priests. Reactions were decidedly mixed. Some people, like Roman Catholic women expecting to be ordained soon, were thrilled. But one deacon reported that six months before becoming a priest she assisted at a service at Riverside Church in New York City: “During the communion, a priest to whom I was serving wine scratched my hand and told me to burn in hell.” It was not safe or easy.
Nonetheless, the Episcopal Church’s General Convention in 1976 voted to ordain women priests and bishops, and the floodgates opened. The early ordinands had their situations “regularized,” and future cohorts were made up of increasingly higher percentages of women. A diaconal ordination I attended recently had six candidates, all women. U.S. priest Barbara C. Harris was the first female Anglican bishop ordained in 1989.
For Roman Catholic women, the installation (also called the enthronement) of Sarah Mullally provided a familiar lesson in barriers overcome. She began her theological studies at age 40, married and with children, after a career in nursing and midwifery, the youngest person ever to be England’s Chief Nursing Officer. She did her theological training from 1998-2001 while still working as a nurse, studying in a local program. Sarah Mullally left nursing for fulltime church service in 2004.
This is a far cry from the preparation of many of her predecessors—bishops, and heads of communions, most of whom have had Oxford or Cambridge pedigrees, though not necessarily much experience outside the theological world.
Many Roman Catholic women can relate. Since we cannot be ordained validly and licitly, we’ve constructed our own roads to ministry. Contrast the broad experience of many women who run hospitals, teach kindergarten and lead universities, work in law and medicine, tend food pantries, and raise families, with the backgrounds of most newly minted Catholic male seminarians. Many such men have had hothouse theological preparation in seminaries. They’re taught (and obliged) to avoid committed relationships and not to have children. They are rewarded for their willingness to follow orders from on high, to keep silent in the face of wrongdoing. Such training shows in the quality of ministry in Catholic circles and it’s a factor in the clergy sexual abuse epidemic. Still, Catholic women aren’t even allowed to preach in many dioceses lest they speak openly from and about their well-rounded lives. Pilgrimage was the theme of Archbishop Mullally’s installation. While her immediate predecessor chose the same theme, his pilgrimage consisted of a ceremonial walk from the entrance of the church to the Quire (Choir) where the enthronement took place. Her pilgrimage was a six-day walk from London to Canterbury, a distance of about 87 miles, which she covered at an enviable clip. She stopped along the way to visit, pray, and eat with people, especially children. She mentioned in her installation homily that her feet (indeed her whole body) hurt, but she seemed none the worse for the wear. She gave new meaning to the old line about dancer Ginger Rogers doing everything Fred Astaire did—but in high heels and backwards.
While Catholic women celebrated, Pope Leo XIV sent perfunctory congratulations to Archbishop Mullally. Instead of politely saving theo-politics for another day, he defensively underscored the obvious: “At the same time, we also know that the ecumenical journey has not always been smooth. Despite much progress, our immediate predecessors, Pope Francis and Archbishop Justin Welby, acknowledged frankly that ‘new circumstances have presented new disagreements among us.’” It hardly bears noting, but if reform in any arena required the absence of disagreement, the Church would probably still be keeping slaves.
The installation of the new spiritual leader of one of Catholicism’s closest sister communions is surely a “new circumstance.” As such, it’s a perfect opportunity to drop the disagreements and get on with the common work of peace and justice. Otherwise, Leo and his bishop colleagues should hang their heads in shame until their mitres fall off. They refuse to open the very sacraments they value for themselves to everyone, and for the good of the world. They could have a moment too.
Author:
Mary E. Hunt, Ph.D., is a feminist theologian who is co-founder and co-director of the Women’s Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual ( WATER) in Silver Spring, Maryland, USA. A Roman Catholic active in the women-church movement, she lectures and writes on theology and ethics with particular attention to liberation issues.
Holy Week Reflection: “She Anointed Him for This Moment” (John 12:1–11)
Prayer
Holy One, Womb of Mercy and Breath of Life,
We remember Mary of Bethany, who anointed Jesus with love that could not be contained. She saw what others could not see. She acted when others hesitated.
Awaken in us that same courage.
Bless the women of our world who anoint the Body of Christ today— in Word and Sacrament, in justice and compassion, in quiet acts of healing and bold acts of truth.
When their voices are silenced, be their strength. When their ministries are denied, be their affirmation. When their love is poured out and questioned, be the fragrance that fills the house.
May we become a Church that recognizes and rejoices in the priestly, prophetic witness of all the baptized.
And like Mary, may we pour out our love without counting the cost, trusting that nothing offered in love is ever wasted.
We ask this in the name of Jesus, the Anointed One, who receives our offerings and calls us all to serve as equals in the holy circle of love.
Amen
Holy Week Reflection: “She Anointed Him for This Moment” (John 12:1–11) By Rev. Dr. Bridget Mary Meehan, ARCWP
In the quiet intimacy of Bethany, just days before his arrest, we encounter a Gospel moment that shimmers with courage, tenderness, and prophetic power. John 12:1–11 invites us into a sacred act that breaks open the meaning of discipleship—and reveals the often-hidden authority of women
in the ministry of Jesus.
Mary of Bethany kneels before Jesus. She carries costly perfume—nard, extravagant and unapologetically abundant.
She anoints his feet and wipes them with her hair.
The fragrance fills the house.
This is no small gesture. This is priestly action. This is love poured out in embodied, sacramental form.
From a feminist theological lens, Mary’s act is not passive devotion—
it is bold, public, and liturgical.
She does what prophets and priests do: she anoints.
In a world where women’s bodies were often controlled and silenced,
Mary claims her body as a vessel of blessing.
Her touch becomes a proclamation.
She recognizes what others do not yet see:
that Jesus is moving toward death—and that love must be poured out
now, without hesitation.
And yet, her act is challenged.
Judas objects. He cloaks his discomfort in the language
of concern for the poor, but Jesus sees through the distortion.
He defends her:
“Leave her alone. She has kept this for the day of my burial.”
In that moment, Jesus affirms her authority. He honors her as one who understands the sacred timing of love. He does not silence her.
He lifts her up.
This is our Gospel inheritance.Today, in our time, we see
Mary of Bethany rising again—in women who anoint the Body of Christ
in countless ways:
-in women priests breaking open the Word and blessing the bread
in inclusive Eucharistic communities
-in chaplains and pastors who accompany the dying with oil, prayer,
and presence
-in mothers, activists, healers, and spiritual companions who pour out
compassion in a wounded world
-in those who dare to say, with their lives: Love cannot wait.
Like Mary, these women are often questioned. Their authority is challenged.
Their ministries are dismissed or condemned by institutional structures
that cannot yet recognize the Spirit moving through them.
And yet—the fragrance continues to fill the house.
Holy Week invites us to stand in that tension: between love poured out
and systems that resist it, between prophetic action and
institutional fear.
But Mary shows us the way.
She does not ask permission.
She does not measure the cost.
She acts out of deep, intuitive knowing—what we might call Spirit-wisdom,
Sophia moving within her.
And Jesus receives her offering as holy.
What if we recognized today that the Body of Christ is still being anointed—
right now—in places both seen and unseen?
What if we honored the sacramental ministries of women not as exceptions,
but as essential signs of a Church being reborn?
What if we allowed the fragrance of inclusive love, justice, and equality
to permeate our communities, even when it unsettles us?
As we enter more deeply into Holy Week, let us remember:
The Passion of Christ is not only about suffering. It is also about love poured out—extravagantly, prophetically,
“It does not seem that the New Testament by itself alone will permit us to settle in a clear way and once and for all the problem of the possible accession of women to the presbyterate.
However, some think that in the scriptures there are sufficient indications to exclude this possibility, considering that the sacraments of eucharist and reconciliation have a special link with the person of Christ and therefore with the male hierarchy, as borne out by the New Testament.
Others, on the contrary, wonder if the church hierarchy, entrusted with the sacramental economy, would be able to entrust the ministries of eucharist and reconciliation to women in light of circumstances, without going against Christ's original intentions.“
A Reading from the Easter Stories in the Gospels according to Matthew, Luke and Mark
Mary Al: They found the stone rolled away from the tomb… (Luke 24:2)
So, the women left the tomb quickly with great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.
And they came to him took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. (Mt. 28-29)
Mary Magdalene went out and told those who had been with him while
they were mourning and weeping. But when they heard that he was alive
and had been seen by her, they would not believe it. (Mk: 16:10-11)
A Reading from the Easter Story in the Gospel according to John
Cheryl: Meanwhile, Mary was standing close outside the tomb weeping.
Still weeping she leaned forward into the tomb.
After again seeing the empty tomb, Mary turned around and walked to the garden.
She turned and looked at Jesus standing there, but she did not know
that it was Jesus. “Why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?”
he asked. Supposing him to be the gardener, Mary answered:
“If it was you sir, who carried him away, tell me where
you have laid him, and I will take him away myself.” “Mary!” said Jesus.
She called out and exclaimed in Hebrew:
“Rabboni!” (which means, “Teacher.”)
Jesus said; “go to my brothers and sisters and tell them that
I am ascending to my God and their God.”
Mary of Magdala went and told the disciples that
she had seen the Risen One and that he had said this to her.”
These are the inspired words according to women in the Easter Gospels and the community responds: Alleluia!
Easter Vigil Homily 2026 by Bridget Mary
At this Easter Vigil, we stand at the threshold of mystery—
between darkness and light, grief and hope, death and new life.
We have listened to the great stories of our faith—
the God who creates, liberates, accompanies, and promises new life.
And now we proclaim with joy:
Christ is risen!
But notice this: The Risen Christ does not first appear to emperors or religious authorities. The first witness is Mary Magdalene—a woman once silenced,
now sent forth as apostle to the apostles.
This is no accident. This is the Gospel.
God entrusts the Easter message to a woman. God reveals resurrection
to those on the margins-not through power, but through love
that refuses to be extinguished.
And so we proclaim not only that Christ rose, but that
Christ is rising—again and again—in us and in our world.
Christ Rising Among Us Today
So where do we see resurrection today?
We see it:
• When people stand for justice and dignity, protecting the
vulnerable and defending human rights.
When citizens across the world defend democracy and human dignity.
One power example of Christ rising among us happened in the
United States, when millions of people participated
in the “No Kings” demonstrations on March 28th.
We see resurrection today in the Ukraine and Middle East
where ordinary people protect their communities amid war;
Christ is Rising today when people advocate to protect Social Security,
healthcare, and the rights of the most vulnerable including the undocumented;
We see resurrection today in climate activists—especially young people—
who rise up to defend our common home, insisting that the future matters.
We see Christ rising today for gender equality in the installation of
Sarah Mullally as Archbishop of Canterbury.
When survivors of violence become healers, transforming pain into
pathways of reconciliation and hope, This is resurrection power:
hope refusing to be silenced.
We see resurrection in survivors of abuse who now accompany others
on the path to healing:
in survivors of sexual abuse including women who advocated for justice
and transparency in release of Epstein files in the United States
and LGBTQ+ leaders who transform trauma into advocacy,
creating spaces of safety, dignity, and restoration.
Like Mary Magdalene, they move from grief to proclamation. This is resurrection as healing love.
When inclusive communities open their tables,
welcoming all as beloved—without exception.
We see resurrection in inclusive Catholic communities—
like Mary Mother of Jesus and ARCWP communities around the world—
where all are welcomed to the Eucharistic table:
divorced and remarried, LGBTQ+ persons,
those long excluded or wounded by the Church.
We see it in parishes, shelters, and grassroots ministries
that feed the hungry, accompany migrants, and create belonging.
Every time someone who has been told “you don’t belong”
hears instead “you are beloved,” the stone is rolled away again.
This is resurrection as radical welcome.
When a person awakens from shame or fear and
discovers their sacred worth.
We see resurrection in quiet, holy moments— when someone steps out of depression into hope,
when a young person embraces their identity with courage,
when someone burdened by shame finally knows: I am loved just as I am.
This awakening of connection, purpose, and love is a profound
spiritual rebirth.
This is resurrection from within.
Each of these is an Easter moment.
Each is a living proclamation: Love is stronger than death.
And so, Easter is not only something we remember— it is something we recognize, something we participate in, something we become.
Our Call as Easter People
Like Mary Magdalene, we are sent forth.
We carry the Good News not as an idea, but as a way of living.
We become the ones who say with our lives:
Hope is alive. Love is rising, New life is possible.
Alleluia is not just a word we sing.
It is the song we are called to become. Christ is risen—
and Christ is rising—in us, through us, and among us!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Community Sharing
As we continue our celebration, I invite you to reflect:
Where are you being called to embody resurrection in our world today?
Renewal of Baptismal Promises: Beth P
Beth P:
Do you promise to see what is good for your sisters and brothers everywhere,
rejecting injustice and inequity and living with the freedom and responsibility
of children of God?
Beth and All:Yes!
Beth P:
Do you promise to work for the realization of God’s vision of harmony
and right relations among people and peoples, rejecting the idols of
money and property and color and sex and position?
Seth and All:Yes!
Kathryn :
Do you promise to seek peace and live in peace in one human family,
rejecting prejudice and half-heartedness in every form, and all barriers to unity?
Beth and All:Yes!
Beth:
Do you promise to cherish the universe, and this precious planet, working
creatively to renew and safeguard the elemental sacraments of air, earth, water?
Beth and All:Yes!
Beth:
Do you believe in God, the great Spirit of Creation, in Jesus, the simple servant of
justice and love who lived among us so that all might live with abundant fullness;
in the breath of God’s center, the Spirit who continues the work of forgiveness
and reconciliation, birthing and blessing, challenge and hope, so that together
we can continue the work of creation?
Beth and All:Yes!
(Source: Baptismal Promises: Jay Murnane), Adaptation of Baptism Rite)
Prayers of Community:
Dotty : That every person in this Mary Mother of Jesus community will experience
the Presence of the Risen Christ dwelling within them and all around them this Easter.
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty : That the earth will always be your beloved garden, seen from space
as a beautiful jewel.
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty That your indwelling life rising in us will bring healing and
strength to all who are suffering from the chaos and turmoil in our government and world.
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty : That your Risen life will sustain all those who have poured out
their own lives in loving service to help others.
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty: That your Risen life will lift the fog that clouds understanding
between people, allowing hate to dissipate and be transformed into
peace and justice especially between Israel and Palestine and Russia and Ukraine.
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty: That all who have died will rest in your eternal light and boundless
love especially those we remember in our hearts now. (pause)
Jane and All: Alleluia
Dotty:We invite Joan Meehan to share requests from our community prayer list.
:For what else do we pray?
(voice your petition)
Joan and All: Alleluia
Jane :God of life, we put before You these prayers of our community,
spoken and unspoken. We believe that we can trust and hope in your wisdom. May it be so.
Amen, Alleluia
Liturgy of Eucharist
Preparation of the Gifts
Dotty:Blessed are You, O Holy One, through Your divine providence
we have this bread to offer, it will become for us the Bread of Life.
Jane and All:Blessed are You, Holy One, forever.
Jane : Blessed are You, O Holy One, through your divineprovidence
we have this wine to offer, it will become our spiritual drink.
Dotty and All:Blessed are You, Holy One, forever.
Dotty: Nurturing One, we are united in this sacrament by the love of J
esus in communion with all who proclaim the liberating power of your Spirit,
rising in our midst.
Jane and All:Amen. Alleluia
Preface: Eucharistic Prayer
Joan P:O Risen Christ
Janeand All: Alleluia
Joan P: O Risen Christ, You speak truth through us
Jane and All: Alleluia
Joan P: O Risen Christ, You walk beside us and work through us
Jane and All: Alleluia
Joan P: O Risen Christ, You who broke the bonds of death and rose in the
radiant light of dawn, be present among us now in bread. and cup,
and in word and song.
We rejoice with the angels, and saints and all people in joyful praise
for the gift of new life.
Holy, Holy, Holy (Karen Drucker) Linda Lee Miller
Eucharistic Prayer
Beth:: Risen One, You rise still in the courage of peacemakers, in the resilience
of the oppressed,
in the healing hands of caregivers, and in all who work for justice and peace.
Let your rising be not only a story we tell,
but a power we live, lifting us from fear to faith,
from despair to dreaming, from silence to singing your Alleluia in the streets.
Cheryl: May this holy meal, feed us with your risen presence.
Transform this table into a wellspring of life, where brokenness becomes blessing,and ordinary bread becomes the Body of the Living God.
As we receive You, make us also your rising for the wounded, the weary and
the waiting world.Let your resurrection live in us today.
Please extend Your hands in blessing.
Bridget Mary and All:Pour out Your spirit anew upon this bread and wine and
upon us as we become more deeply the Christ Presence in our world.
On the night before he died, Jesus came to table with the women and men he loved.
Jesus took bread blessed and broke it, saying,
“Take, eat, this is my body. Do this in memory of me.”
Pause
Bridget Mary and All: After supper, Jesus poured a cup of wine
and shared it with his friends, saying,
“This is the cup of the covenant of my love.
As often as You drink of it, remember me.”
Bridget Mary : Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:
Beth and All:
Christ has died in all who have died.
Christ is rising within us each moment.
Christ comes again and again everywhere each day.
Mary Al : Embracing Presence, we remember all the companions who have
gone before us: Mary, Mother of Jesus, Mary of Magdala, and all people of f
aith who rise up to offer comfort and consolation to those who suffer today.
Mary Al and All: For it is through living as Jesus lived, and loving as he loved,
that we awaken to Your Spirit empowering us to work for justice.
