Unitarian Univ. Sermon, June 25, 2006
Dr. Victoria Rue
On this Gay Pride Day in San Francisco, how appropriate it is to be with you
today as a lesbian, and a Roman Catholic womanpriest. (Introduce Kathryn).
I live and work in the borderlands, the margins of my church. When you
live in borderlands, it is alliances that are key to staying alive and sustaining
the work for social justice. And so, my sisters and brothers, how happy it
makes me to be here in the inclusive atmosphere of this Unitarian
Universalist Congregation where you so clearly recognize the inherent worth
and dignity of every person as we all work to create a world community with
peace, liberty, and justice for all.
Someone who knew a lot about living on the margins, was the poet and
Chicana lesbian feminist Gloria Anzaldua. She wrote of living in the
borderlands/la frontera. She says:
To live in the borderlands means you
Are neither hispana India negra Espanola
Ni gabacha, eres mestiza, mulata, half-breed
Caught in the crossfire between camps…
To survive the Borderlands
You must live sin fronteras (without borders)
Be a crossroads. (Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands/La
Frontera. 194)
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Living on the margins of the institutional RCC, womenpriests and women in
general must be a crossroads. Living, as if , we lived without borders. Yet
being a place of conscious intersection---so that as womenpriests our
ministries are in fact a crossroads where the past and present meet the future
church. Let me explain.
In the geography of the RCC, the borders have been drawn up by Gratian of
Bologna in the 12th century –these borders are called Canon Law. As
womenpriests we are “Contra legem”—against the law. The law being
Canon Law—1024 that states: "Only a baptized male validly receives
sacred ordination." In the baroque nomenclature of the RCC, we are “valid,
but illicit.” Valid because we have been ordained by valid bishops, illicit
because we are contra legem. Perhaps excommunication will occur for us.
We are willing to take that risk. But let me be clear, we are not trying to start
a new church, we are not schismatic. We consider ourselves to be Roman
Catholic womenpriests. And that puts us squarely into living and working in
the borderlands. When you live on the borders, you listen to the wind--- to
the Spirit---to the still small voice within for guidance. Like the prophets of
old, we are speaking our truth to the power of the RCC. And so we answer,
haven’t women always been valid but illicit, haven’t we always been contra
legem, and haven’t we always been outside the patriarchal communication
circle—excommunicated?
I am the oldest of 8 children—yes, a “good” Catholic family. Do you all
remember Necco wafers? They are multiple colors of round sugary wafers.
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They happen to look a lot like hosts. So on the steps of our house in
Downey, at the ripe age of 6 or 7, I would invite other children of the
neighborhood to kneel on the steps of our front porch and---yes, you guessed
it, I placed the sugary wafers on their little tongues! So I’ve always had a
special place in my heart for Necco wafers!
Skipping ahead a few years, in the late 60’s I entered the convent to
consecrate my life to God in a teaching order—the Sisters of the Holy
Names. I left the order a year later knowing this was not my call. But in
many ways, being a womanpriest is a return to living this consecrated life.
When I left the convent, I left the church. The theatre became my church.
The women’s movement my congregation. For 25 years I wrote and directed
theatre in New York, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Theatre is
transformative. It is a rehearsal --for change, for how we would like to see
our world.
In the early eighties, with other theatre artists I traveled to Nicaragua to
explore how theatre was being used in literacy. Quite by accident, I
witnessed the power of a Catholic base community. This congregation
understood prayer as action—creating clean drinking water was prayer,
creating street lights in the village was prayer. I saw for the first time in my
life, the Catholic Church involved in the work of social justice. That vision
led me to theological studies in l985. I studied feminist and liberation
theologies at Union Theological Seminary in NYC with Dorothee Soelle,
Beverly Harrison, and James Cone.
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Just before receiving my M.Div. in l988, I was asked to con-celebrate a
Eucharist on the sidewalks of NYC. It was a cold January day standing on
the sidewalk across from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. A cloth covered board was
held at each end for an altar. There were some 300 people spilling out onto
5th avenue. As gay and lesbian people and many others who supported us,
we gathered to say “we are church” to Cardinal Ratzinger’s now infamous
“Halloween Letter.” That letter stated that homosexuality is “an intrinsic
moral disorder.” But we understood the Eucharist to be a liberative
act…God’s table where everyone is welcome. And so standing beside me in
the cold was an out gay priest, in an alb and chasuble with many sweaters
underneath. I stood next to him dressed the same way. Shoulder to shoulder
we con-celebrated the Eucharist. Someone sent me a photograph of that
moment. For years I would look at that picture and know-- that was my
ordination. Con-celebrating that Mass with an out gay priest was my first
ordination. I was called out by that community to be a womanpriest.
You know, coming out as a womanpriest is a lot like my experience of
coming out as a lesbian. I’m proud of both and both are subject to being
misunderstood. So it was ironic and humbling that a Muslim woman student
was assigned to interview me for the university paper at San Jose State
where I teach Women’s Studies and Religious Studies. The article would
announce to the university my ordination. And I was uncertain whether a
Muslim woman might have a bias against me, perhaps thinking I was a
renegade religious person. You never know who your allies are. As a
Muslim and a Roman Catholic, we were women of faith. We also shared a
sense of being misunderstood.
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When Faridah’s article came out, so did I. It was even, balanced, and most
respectful. But I had no idea that they would put it on the front page, with a
picture! Without exception, my classes were curious and later, with more
conversation about it, even enthusiastic. And so last semester was a series of
conversations, because no matter where I went in the university I heard-“Are you the….? Congratulations, Victoria. And, what does it mean to you
to be a womanpriest?” Each conversation, with students, with faculty and
staff was and continues to be an opportunity for me to reflect on what it
means to be a womanpriest.
Some Catholic women allies, upon hearing of my ordination, say to me,
“why are you joining a hierarchy, a club? Why are you setting yourself apart
from everyone else--we are all priests by our baptism.” But you see, we
don’t want to just add women and stir…..you can’t just ordain women and
expect that everything will stay the same. You think we just want to
rearrange the furniture? No. We offer an old but a new model of being
priest ---based on the model of Worker priests. Worker priests emerged at
the turn of the 20th century in France with the onslaught of industrialization.
Worker priests labored alongside other workers in factories, their presence a
sign of God’s compassion and the church’s commitment to social justice. As
a womanpriest, I too walk alongside others in their daily lives as a teacher,
and theatre artist. We seek to close the gap between cleric and lay people.
Yes, OK, we’re inspired by the UU’s!!
For my part, I am discovering what it means to be a womanpriest --who
doesn’t have a parish or any traditional ministry. On Thursdays and Sundays
this past semester, I presided at weekly Masses for students and the larger
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community in San Jose. We use the campus non-denominational chapel.
We’re on summer vacation now but we’ll start up again after Labor Day.
Let me share a story of how we also make up our ministry as we go long.
I was teaching a course in Western Religious Traditions last semester. It
focuses on Judaism, Islam and Christianity. One day, a woman student who
identified herself as a “Catholic Christian,” was due to make a presentation
on the traditions that surround Holy Thursday. I noticed as she was setting
up that she took out a large bottle of grape juice and an equally large box of
matza crackers. I thought to myself, oh no! she’s not going to do the
Eucharist right here in the classroom of a state university!!—uh, oh. But as
she went on in the presentation, the clock also went on, and she ran out of
time. “Oh well,” she said, ”maybe you can use it.” And left me with the
grape juice and matza. Fifteen minutes later, my next class started in the
same classroom. The grape juice and matza continued to sit on my desk.
The class was a Women’s Studies course called Women of Color in the U.S.
In the four times I’ve taught the course, I always begin it with “what’s a
white girl like me doing teaching this class?” Knowing smiles, but then I
share with them that the course is also about building alliances--- as a
lesbian in the USA and a Roman Catholic, I too know what prejudice is
about. Just as the students were leaving the class, a Latina student named
Teresa arrived. She was out of breath. Teresa is always a revelation to me.
She was physically abused in her marriage and last year courageously left
that marriage and has since then discovered the empowerment of being a
student activist for La Raza. On this day, Teresa comes up to me and says
“I’m sorry I missed class today Professor. I had something important I had
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to do.” Are you OK? I asked. “Oh yeah. I’m just a little light headed. I was
at the blood bank giving blood.” Teresa, sit down, I said. She went on,
“They needed to know what blood type I am because I’m going to give bone
marrow to somebody who needs it.” Bone marrow? Teresa! “Yeah, I read
about this guy needing a donor and so I signed up, but I’m sorry I had to
miss class.” Then I remembered the grape juice and the matza crackers on
my desk. As I poured cups of grape juice, and offered the matza, they were
hungrily eaten. I looked at Teresa-- I knew very well that this young
woman, giving of the marrow of her life for another’s life WAS the body
and blood of Christ---and this was a Eucharist.
Afterwards, students arrived during my office hour. So no time for lunch.
But I did have the grape juice and matza. Then on to my third class-Women’s Studies 101 with juice and matza in hand. “Well dear class, a
student brought this food this morning for a presentation she gave on the
Roman Catholic Eucharist---so, I offer it to all of you now --- like me, you
might need some sustenance!” There was a hesitation, but then we gathered
around the desk, and shared the food. And so, for the third time that day, we
celebrated a Eucharist of sustenance at San Jose State University.
The Spirit was at work. Using up everything to make Itself known.
I just had to see It and urge It along.
Or think about it this way. Here’s a so-called illegitimate priest creating a
so-called illegitimate eucharist. And don’t double negatives create a
positive? And that’s where the Spirit shows up!! And that’s when the
people get fed.
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As outlaws, as womenpriests, we claim the validity of our ordinations.
What we are really doing is following “prophetic obedience.” As one of our
womanbishops, Patricia Fresen, has said:
The word obedience comes from the Latin ob-audire, to
listen attentively: to myself, to the signs of the times, and
listening with others for the Spirit, who we believe is
always moving and awakening (yes, calling) us to new
levels of awareness. As Isaiah says so often: Listen to
me, pay attention and your soul will live. ( is. 55:3).
To return to Gloria Anzaldua, living in prophetic obedience to the Spirit,
how do we live on the borders? To live….. To thrive on the borders, we all
must become crossroads. We must make alliances with our sisters and
brothers for our survival. The patriarchy does exactly the opposite---it
isolates, lays down boundaries that demarcate clergy from lay people, some
wear red shoes while others wear sandals. But at the crossroads there are
many colors and shapes. At the crossroads, the whistling winds ask us to
make alliances of all faiths.
Imbedded as we all are in patriarchal religions, women and men of different
faiths, must find faith in one another. And faith will change us, turn us
around, soften our hearts.
As womenpriests we walk in faith linking arms with our foremothers:
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Protestant women ministers, women rabbis, women swamis, with Buddhist
nuns and monks. We link arms with our Muslim sisters, and our Native
American sisters who are and always have been wisdom filled elders of their
tribes.
One such woman who has lived in the borderlands is Bev Souliere, an
Algonquin and a lesbian. She led our ordinations last July with a drum
blessing. Recently she wrote to me:
I left the Catholic Church after hearing Leviticus read
from the pulpit. It was like being assaulted, only a
spiritual wound. No one could see it, but I can't believe
how much it hurt.....for years. How can one become a
productive member of society while believing they are
an abomination in the eyes of God? Tell people that you
talk with that the ordination boat changed my life
profoundly.
When I finished drumming, your partner Kathryn stepped
to the microphone as the M.C. She introduced herself as
your partner. I would have given anything to see the look
on my face. I remember grabbing my chest and holding
my breath.
The day after the ordination boat, I was crying, driving
into work. I came to a red light, and with tears streaming
down my face I looked up and asked... “What is it you
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want me to do?” I looked left to see a very large red sign
that said, “Do It In Church!” When I got to work, I
googled “Churches that welcome gays in Ottawa” and
with fingers crossed and chanting “please be a Catholic
church, Please be a Catholic church” Up came.... A
whole list of Anglican churches. So until the Catholics
welcome me back....I’m with the Anglicans... waiting.
Bev is a crossroads. She honors all her traditions and looks to the future.
At the crossroads of our lives, let us pray:
Outburst of outcasts
Outcry of the outer rim
Out going
Out lasting
Out law God
Who out lives
Outlook.
You who are outloud in me
Out of bounds love
An outpost
For our outpouring.
Outrageous God
Outreaching love
Outriding my running away from you--Outright paise to You!!
Outsider God who is inside each of us
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Outspoken love between women
Between men
Between women and men
Outstretched arms
Outward to my sister
Outward to my brothers
Look out!!
At our borders--the walls fall down
We all come out
Outlaws no more
Outwitting
Outworking
Outlasting ……
Blessed be our God.
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