Okay, I'm done now.
Up until today, I've deliberately refrained from saying anything specific about some of the controversial commentary about women's ordination that has been appearing in the blogiverse where I hang out most often. I know full well that not all, or even the majority, of Nashotah House students are included in those who have been expressing vituperative opinions of their theological problems with a woman as presider-- either as general practice or in specific, at last week's Lavabo Bowl Eucharist. And those who have done, did not address me directly, so I have chosen not to engage them personally, either. No point in picking a fight, or stirring up an argument that is destined to go nowhere.
But last night, I talked to my daughter.
She's 16, a junior in high school, and very outgoing-- the sort of young woman who sees strangers as potential friends, and will eagerly engage anyone in conversation. She's also got a generous heart, and honestly enjoys being helpful and hospitable.
So last Saturday she was in her element when our guests arrived: chatting with a whole passel of new people, helping them find their way around, and generally being her talkative, sociable self. And she generally had fun, finding most folks were very pleasant.
However, it turns out that most was not all. At one point, one of the Nashotah House students asked her if her father was among the students who played in the game. My daughter smiled (knowing my athletic aptitude is way on the low end of the spectrum) and said something like, "No, it's my mom that's a student here, but she wasn't playing." Suddenly, her conversation partner's smile faded. He said, "Oh, really?" with his eyebrows raised, turned his back on her, and walked away.
Now, I suppose I should be grateful that this person didn't feel the need to deliver a diatribe about the evils of women in ordained ministry, right at that moment. But I'm not. Rather, I'm incensed that someone who purports to be training for presbyteral ministry in the church-- called to be pastor to God's people-- has so little self-control that he would feel entitled to express his theological convictions by being deliberately rude to a teenage girl. And I am embarrassed and ashamed to think that this sort of behavior and attitude have apparently found a congenial place in an Episcopal seminary.
Lord, have mercy on us all.
But last night, I talked to my daughter.
She's 16, a junior in high school, and very outgoing-- the sort of young woman who sees strangers as potential friends, and will eagerly engage anyone in conversation. She's also got a generous heart, and honestly enjoys being helpful and hospitable.
So last Saturday she was in her element when our guests arrived: chatting with a whole passel of new people, helping them find their way around, and generally being her talkative, sociable self. And she generally had fun, finding most folks were very pleasant.
However, it turns out that most was not all. At one point, one of the Nashotah House students asked her if her father was among the students who played in the game. My daughter smiled (knowing my athletic aptitude is way on the low end of the spectrum) and said something like, "No, it's my mom that's a student here, but she wasn't playing." Suddenly, her conversation partner's smile faded. He said, "Oh, really?" with his eyebrows raised, turned his back on her, and walked away.
Now, I suppose I should be grateful that this person didn't feel the need to deliver a diatribe about the evils of women in ordained ministry, right at that moment. But I'm not. Rather, I'm incensed that someone who purports to be training for presbyteral ministry in the church-- called to be pastor to God's people-- has so little self-control that he would feel entitled to express his theological convictions by being deliberately rude to a teenage girl. And I am embarrassed and ashamed to think that this sort of behavior and attitude have apparently found a congenial place in an Episcopal seminary.
Lord, have mercy on us all.
posted by Jane Ellen+ at
10:27 AM
2 Comments:
Jane,
CJ wasn't alone. This is the gist of a conversation I had with one of the people in the cloister:
Visitor: "What year are you?"
Me: "My wife is a senior."
Visitor: "Oh...."
At least he didn't turn his back.
Mark,
no one bothered, not even among the families present, to ask who I was or why I was there.This is not unique to Nashotah House. I've encountered this same behavior at around half of the Episcopal churches I have visited over the years.
I think we could all do better.
Not being an Episcopalian, nor in the inner circle of folks at Seabury (other than an acquaintance with your Registrar), and only familiar with the siutation beign described, I'm probably ill-prepared to comment on this topic.
But I *am* sorry for y'all.
And I'm sorry for the body of Christ, that we continue to fight these endless battles of "you're not worthy to be (or do) 'fill-in-the-blank'". I'm sorry that word and symbol and Spirit are not enough to make a sacrament. I'm sorry that as followers of Christ, we keep throwing "yeah, but..." exclusions into the mix, that keep "us" and "them" separated on terrifyingly critical issues like whether the hand that consecrates and distributes Communion has X or Y chromosones in it.
How I wish we could stay focused on the 1st Corinthians 15 "things of first importance," and share *that* with the world. I know...it's simplistic, and it disregards tradition and history and so much else.
That doesn't mean it's wrong.
To me, arguing about women's ordination in the face of carrying the Gospel unreached souls (within and without the church) is like fiddling while Rome burns. But, of course, as a has-been seminarian, what do I know?
Post a Comment
<< Home