Back in June, I attended the 2024 Association of U.S. Catholic Priests Assembly in Lexington, Kentucky as part of a working group on women in the church. Along with a few other women from this group, my task was to bring my unique perspective to the assembly’s discussions.
On the second day, instead of joining the planned tours, some of us—seven women and a priest—decided to visit the Abbey of Gethsemani. (It wasn’t until we arrived that I realized this was the monastic home of Thomas Merton, one of my favorite spiritual authors.) We toured the grounds, surrounded by the lush trees, wind, sun on our faces, and singing of the birds. It was peaceful, providential, and holy.
“This is what Thomas Merton must have seen and felt every day,” I thought. At his tomb, I silently prayed, “What can you tell us today? What can you help reveal to us?”
On the way back, we started talking about why it seemed like the topic of restoring women to the diaconate had stalled at the Synod on Synodality. We seemed so close to having Catholic female deacons again! What’s getting in the way? Offering our own frustrations and potential solutions, we engaged in a wisdom-filled conversation.
In the midst of the conversation, our driver delivered some bad news: We were running out of gas. After driving a few miles with no station in sight, we saw one on the map a few miles away. As we approached the uphill exit, the vehicle began to slow down. “Come on, come on!” we all cheered. The van made it up the hill, but just as we were about to drive up another small incline to reach the pump, it stopped.
The van was about 50 steps away from the pump. We—the one priest and seven laywomen leaders—were going to have to push it up the hill. While at first we were hopeful, we realized the incline was steep and we were going to need help. Father Michael, the priest in our group, ran up to two men pumping gas and asked for help.
“No man, we won’t make it,” one of them said. Father Michael responded, “Yes, we will! Let’s do it! Let’s at least try!”
We all pushed and pushed, and just when it seemed like we could push no more, the van went over the threshold. We were up the hill and at the pump.
Our group immediately saw the stalled van as a metaphor for the stalled conversation on whether women can be deacons. To accomplish the latter, we need more than just women pushing for it; we need the help of hopeful men—ordained and lay leaders—who see the need and possibility, like Father Michael. We also need those who may doubt but are willing to help because their hearts are in the right place. And, of course, we need the wisdom of women who—from the days of Jesus’ early ministry to the crucifixion and the resurrection, through the early church like Phoebe, and until now—have always been at the foot of the cross and at the front of the lines, leading and ministering to the church, to the people of God. No one is an island. Moving the church in the direction the Holy Spirit leads takes a village. Each of us can do something to move this stalled van. When that happens, I hope you have helped us push up the hill, because that’s what Jesus would do.
This article also appears in the December 2024 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 89, No. 12, page 9). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Image: iStock.com/LeoPatrizi
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