Reflections in celebration of 35 years of women as priests in the Anglican Church of Canada

November 30th ~ 35th anniversary of the ordination of women
in the Anglican Church of Canada
[texts: 2 Chron 34:22-28; Cant 11 ;Acts 16: 11-19; Lk 1:39-56]

When Mary Lyseki asked if I would preach at this celebration of 35 years of the ordination of women within the Anglican Church in Canada, I only hesitated for a moment. I heard her invitation as a chance to reflect on my experience of ordained ministry. So I'm afraid that these reflections are more autobiographical than usual, but I hope that they are still meaningful. I'd like to start with thanksgiving, then speak about the privilege of being a priest and conclude with the challenges I see for ordained women in this beloved but rugged institution – the Anglican Church of Canada.

First: gratitude – a word of thanks to all the women and their allies who opened the way for the ordination of women. It's not easy to be a pioneer. Many faced open, sustained, and sometimes quite ugly opposition. That has not been my experience thanks to them. I would also like to thank all those who worked and continue to work uncovering, understanding and dismantling sexism – whether in families, educational systems, institutions or scriptural and liturgical studies. Even our core language for God, for prayer, for song, for canons and committees needed redemption. And that was and still is spirit filled, but for many, very painful work. Our experience of gender touches such deep parts of ourselves and the stories of our families. I give thanks for all who have dared and continue to be aware of the ways gender divides us; those who, then and now, continue to find ways to heal those divisions; and all those who have and still act as cheerleaders and supporters in the struggle. Hasn't it been great to recover and celebrate the rich diverse female presence within our tradition: judges, prophets, warriors, evangelists, saints, hosts supporters, mothers, sisters, apostles and yes, wisdom herself. And it's really nice to hear pieces of that beautiful tapestry tonight – thank you to the organizers.

Secondily, I want to express the awesome privilege I feel I have been given to be a priest in the church today. I have in my memory a moment when my husband and I were exploring Ireland and had turned into a Benedictine women's monastary. It was a gorgeous site - I wish I could remember the place name. What does stick in my mind is resting in the stone chapel the sisters had newly refurbished beside a small lake. Everything in the chapel was perfect – the proportions, the colours, the furnishings. And I realized that none of the sisters had or would be able to stand behind the altar and celebrate the great goodness and love of God poured out for us and all of creation. I felt a wave of sadness and then the great privilege of my calling. Every Sunday, behind the altar, I hold up the elements and say: through Christ, with Christ and in Christ in the unity of the Holy Spirit... And every Sunday, I see the beloved gathered congregation, the body of Christ, through those elements - the body and blood of Christ for the people of God, and I experience a wholeness a sacredness a mystery unfolding in that moment full of potential and goodness. That is moment of awesome blessing and privilege. I love being a priest...it is hugely important to me and to expressing, to doing,what I've been given to say and do. Is it hard and at times painful work – absolutely. But it is also total blessing and I give thanks to all those who made it possible for me personally and for others in this circle tonight to fulfil our calling. I also think that it is a gift for the church as a whole to see both women and men serving in this way. It matters.

Now, when I was leaving Ithaca New York and my position at Cornell, a circle of women that I had prayed with for several years had a sending off, a kind of commissioning event. They gave me this little bag with a quartz stone inside it. They each held the stone and offered a prayer or blessing for me and said that I was to use my voice, to speak up and speak clearly as a woman for women and for justice and peace in God's world. It sits on my desk and continues to remind, challenge and sometimes reproach me. For it is easy to forget or turn a blind eye to all that diminishes the wholeness of creation and human community. It is easy to say: “that the struggle for gender equality has been won. It is an issue of another day. Let's move on.” But it's not true. The work, the struggle remains. And so I would like to finish with some reflections on the challenges before us.

First patriarchy is still alive and well in our church. Men, male voices and experience are privileged over women's voices, experience and wisdom. We hear it every day in the language we use for God, in our public worship, in committee work and in appointments. Let me say that I'm not in favour of language police or political correctness. But I am conscious of the language we use and how it shapes us. I'm aware of where we sit in meetings, of our turn taking in discussions, of who's heard and who's deferred to. There isn't one right way of acting or speaking, but our ways of acting and speaking do reflect what's important to us. Our faith and church structures were shaped in deeply patriarchical times and we are only partly free of that legacy – free both personally in the ways it has shaped us and free institutionally. Our models of leadership and decision making are still marked by that legacy and I believe that the church is less for that. Are there exceptions – mercifully yes, but the exceptions often just prove the rule. When I was in seminary in the early 90's I heard one or two talks a year when leaders of the church bemoaned its great diminishment. I admit that, although I heard the grief that they were experiencing, there was always a piece of me shouting hallelujah – perhaps there will be space for the new, for what needs to be born. Is there?

On Saturday I was at the kick of for a new women's organization: Manitoba Women to Women of South Sudan and many leaders of other women's organizations in Winnipeg were there to offer words of encouragement. The advice of the chairperson of the University Women's Association to this fledgling organization was: “don't let them tame you.” Well, I think a second, bigger more subtle challenge facing ordained women in the church at this time is our domestication. We've been tamed. Our interest in and capacity to explore new ways to speak and celebrate the movement of the Spirit in our lives or to try new models of ministry or more dialogical ways of making decisions and working in teams has failed to materialize as we give our hearts [and more dangerously our souls] to sustaining an institution that is a season of decline. It is strenuous work. We worry about money, job security, leaky roofs and the joy of the gospel is relegated to our memory banks. I believe that our church is healthier and more able to address our culture with a living faith, with ordained women in its fabric. But are we actually exploring and using that gift of the Spirit or have we ordained women simply been co-opted into the agenda of an increasing fragile institution?

I want to mention one final challenge: the question of solidarity. I have in my office a picture of two buddhist nuns laughing in a doorway together. It reminds me to laugh lots, but also to be friends and colleagues with other women on the journey. I'm glad that we heard tonight about the three month sojourn of Mary and Elizabeth – two women, old and young sharing a trimester of their pregnancies together. It is an important image for all called to birthing the Word. It is too, too easy for ordained women to participate in the clericalism, the set apartness and privileging of the ordained. How do we develop and sustain the habits of the heart to stand with others rather than a part from or above others. The invitation of solidarity work is to grow a bigger self. And so I ask: how do we continue to support each other, lay and ordained women together, and continue to work with all those whose voices, bodies, experiences have been marginalized or oppressed.

Indulge me in one last image which means a lot to me. It's an image of Mary, mother of Jesus. But instead of modelling a still receptivity to the Word, she is modelling an engaged, active embodiment of the will of God on earth as heaven. So on the grounds of Salisbury Cathedral – somewhere in England, I've never actually seen it, there is a statue of “the walking Madonna.” She is [I quote] “walking with purposeful compassion as a member of the Community of the Risen Christ to bring love where love is absent.” In her I see an image of my ministry an image I share with so so many – lay and ordained. I delight and give thanks to the Holy One for the great gift of this ministry and for all women and men with whom I share this journey of faith.