Father Roy Bourgeois, a Maryknoll father and founder of the SOA Watch has been threatened with excommunication regarding his beliefs on female ordination in the Catholic Church. Full text of the article can be found on the National Catholic Reporter's website here.

The letter he has written in response to his pending excommunication is one of the more beautiful things I have read recently. The text is below.

TO THE CONGREGATION FOR THE DOCTRINE OF THE FAITH, THE VATICAN

I was very saddened by your letter dated October 21, 2008, giving me 30 days to recant my belief and public statements that support the ordination of women in our Church, or I will be excommunicated.

I have been a Catholic priest for 36 years and have a deep love for my Church and ministry.

When I was a young man in the military, I felt God was calling me to the priesthood. I entered Maryknoll and was ordained in 1972.

Over the years I have met a number of women in our Church who, like me, feel called by God to the priesthood. You, our Church leaders at the Vatican, tell us that women cannot be ordained.

With all due respect, I believe our Catholic Church’s teaching on this issue is wrong and does not stand up to scrutiny. A 1976 report by the Pontifical Biblical Commission supports the research of Scripture scholars, canon lawyers and many faithful Catholics who have studied and pondered the Scriptures and have concluded that there is no justification in the Bible for excluding women from the priesthood.

As people of faith, we profess that the invitation to the ministry of priesthood comes from God. We profess that God is the Source of life and created men and women of equal stature and dignity. The current Catholic Church doctrine on the ordination of women implies our loving and all-powerful God, Creator of heaven and earth, somehow cannot empower a woman to be a priest.

Women in our Church are telling us that God is calling them to the priesthood. Who are we, as men, to say to women, “Our call is valid, but yours is not.” Who are we to tamper with God’s call?

Sexism, like racism, is a sin. And no matter how hard or how long we may try to justify discrimination, in the end, it is always immoral.

Hundreds of Catholic churches in the U.S. are closing because of a shortage of priests. Yet there are hundreds of committed and prophetic women telling us that God is calling them to serve our Church as priests.

If we are to have a vibrant, healthy Church rooted in the teachings of our Savior, we need the faith, wisdom, experience, compassion and courage of women in the priesthood.

Conscience is very sacred. Conscience gives us a sense of right and wrong and urges us to do the right thing. Conscience is what compelled Franz Jagerstatter, a humble Austrian farmer, husband and father of four young children, to refuse to join Hitler’s army, which led to his execution. Conscience is what compelled Rosa Parks to say she could no longer sit in the back of the bus. Conscience is what compels women in our Church to say they cannot be silent and deny their call from God to the priesthood. Conscience is what compelled my dear mother and father, now 95, to always strive to do the right things as faithful Catholics raising four children. And after much prayer, reflection and discernment, it is my conscience that compels me to do the right thing. I cannot recant my belief and public statements that support the ordination of women in our Church.

Working and struggling for peace and justice are an integral part of our faith. For this reason, I speak out against the war in Iraq. And for the last eighteen years, I have been speaking out against the atrocities and suffering caused by the School of the Americas (SOA). Eight years ago, while in Rome for a conference on peace and justice, I was invited to speak about the SOA on Vatican Radio. During the interview, I stated that I could not address the injustice of the SOA and remain silent about injustice in my Church. I ended the interview by saying, “There will never be justice in the Catholic Church until women can be ordained.” I remain committed to this belief today.

Having an all male clergy implies that men are worthy to be Catholic priests, but women are not.

According to USA TODAY (Feb. 28, 2008) in the United States alone, nearly 5,000 Catholic priests have sexually abused more than 12,000 children. Many bishops, aware of the abuse, remained silent. These priests and bishops were not excommunicated. Yet the women in our Church who are called by God and are ordained to serve God’s people, and the priests and bishops who support them, are excommunicated.

Silence is the voice of complicity. Therefore, I call on all Catholics, fellow priests, bishops, Pope Benedict XVI and all Church leaders at the Vatican, to speak loudly on this grave injustice of excluding women from the priesthood.

Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador was assassinated because of his defense of the oppressed. He said, “Let those who have a voice, speak out for the voiceless.”

Our loving God has given us a voice. Let us speak clearly and boldly and walk in solidarity as Jesus would, with the women in our Church who are being called by God to the priesthood.

In Peace and Justice,
Rev. Roy Bourgeois, M.M.

Luke 9: 3-5
He said to the apostles, "When you travel, don't take a walking stick. Also, don't carry a bag, food, or money. Take for your trip only the clothes you are wearing. When you go into a house, stay there until it is time to leave. If the people in the town will not welcome you, go outside the town and shake their dust off of your feet. This will be a warning to them."

No real reflection today, Anis Mojgani says it better than I ever could:



The poem is much more powerful when heard spoken aloud but the text is here.

( Shake the Dust- Anis Mojgani )

Just a quote from a show that I found incredibly meaningful.

Book:River, you don't fix the Bible.
River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense.
Book: It's not about making sense. It's about believing in something, and letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.

Religion and Tolkien. They go hand in hand. I'm not sure if J.R.R. Tolkien was Catholic (I think he was, but I'm not making any assumptions) but his universe is very much a Christian one. Not as obvious his friend C.S. Lewis, but I would say at sometimes even more so.

There's a lot to be discussed in Tolkien's writings about God, the concept of Christ figure, the ideas of sacrifice, immortality... the list goes on. But I want to talk about hobbits, and why they are like me.
"As for the Hobbits of the Shire [...] in the days of their peace and prosperity they were a merry folk. [...] Their faces were good-natured rather than beautiful, broad, bright-eyed, red-cheeked, with mouths apt to laughter, and to eating and drinking. And laugh they did, and eat, and drink, often and heartily, being fond of simple jests at all times... They were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted." - The Fellowship of the Ring, Prologue

The hobbits in Tolkien are often considered the "children" of the story, simple and naïve. And for some reason, they have always been my favorite race in the books. This affinity started in junior high, when I read the books for the first time. I loved the hobbits, they were the comedic relief, the most likeable, and ultimately the heroes. And when the movies came out, the actors that played the hobbits were cute.

Through highschool, I found myself thinking more about what it was I admired about Hobbits, as opposed to other races. Dwarves were industrious craftsmen, elves were the mystic immortals, and men were... men. But hobbits, what was their quality that I clung to? The answer came from an unexpected source.

My junior year of highschool I had a friend, and fellow LotR geek named Skyler. He was a great and interesting person who once biked 20 miles into town to show up at my house dressed as a hobbit. December of 2004, Skyler committed suicide. In the haze of loss and confusion that followed his passing, I reached out to others who knew him for comfort and support. That loss that we went through together drew me closer to people in a way I never dreamed possible. Four years later, the people that were there for me the week of his passing are the ones that are still there for me now.

That is what inspired me so much about hobbits- loyalty. The world was literally ending around them, and still Sam followed Frodo into Mordor. None of Frodo's friends had ever been out of the Shire before, but they followed him.

I feel like this applies to my journey as well. Except I'm going backwards. Living in El Salvador was as close as I'll ever get to the Shire. Both are small, agricultural tight-knit areas where simplicity and community are at the root of all things.

"They were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted." Never have I met people that gave so freely, even with what little they had. Looking back, it's not hard to see why I felt so in touch with God while living in Tierra Blanca.

Liberation Theology teaches us that the reign of God is present when we live in solidarity with the poor and marginalized in our world. If that is so, then Christian Base Communities like Tierra Blanca (and places like The Shire) must be as close to heaven as we can get.

Today's slightly sacreligious title comes from a discussion on this song. For the link shy, it's the Dubliner's version of "Lord of the Dance" an awesome Catholic hymn set to the melody of Simple Gifts (also known as Copeland's Appalachian Spring). Yes, so I'm a bit of a music nerd.

The original Shaker lyrics are nice,

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come round right.

But the Catholic version is much, much cooler (and a bit longer, but bear with me!)

I danced in the morning when the world was begun
And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
And I came down from Heaven and I danced on the Earth
In Bethlehem I had my birth

(Chorus)Dance, then, wherever you may be
For I am the Lord of the dance, said He
And I'll lead you all wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He

I danced for the scribe and the pharisee
But they wouldn't dance and they wouldn't follow me
I danced for the fishermen, for James and John
They came with me and the dance went on

(Chorus)

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame
The holy people said it was a shame
They whipped, and they stripped, and they hung me high
And they left me there on a cross to die

I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black
It's hard to dance with the world on your back
They buried my body and they thought I'd gone
But I am the dance, and I still go on

(Chorus)

They cut me down and I lept up high
I am the life that will never never die
I'll live in you if you'll live in me
I am the Lord of the dance, said He

(Final Chorus)


Why can't we have more songs where Jesus frolics through His life like an awesome divine Michael Flatley? I'm convinced the world would be a much better place. Instead we have songs that evoke sad or bittersweet images that, while they are lovely, rarely capture the joy I see in many of my fellow believers. This is why people my age think religion is stuffy and boring. Or there are the songs that talk about God as thunder, or wind or some shadowy, far away presence that none of us can really relate to.

For me, believing in God is all about the dance. It's about trusting God enough to take a step back and listen to the music, and allowing yourself to be caught up in the melody. It's about taking a deep breath and letting Jesus take the lead. Taking the metaphor another step- I know I'm a horrible dancer. Every time I try to dance on my own, it ends up looking awkward and more often than not, failing miserably. I think it's probably about time I stopped trying to work it out on my own and started trusting Jesus. I mean, the man's as old as music itself, I bet he's got a lot he can teach me.

I'm not a doom and gloom kind of girl, the image of God as my dance partner fits so much better with who I am than the idea of a white-bearded old man who scrutinizes my life from afar. It's probably the musician in me, but I think the best definition of who I see God as in my life is this- a conductor. I've got God up there, front and center, telling me everything I need to know. But it's easy to get distracted by trivial things, and start to make mistakes. I need to stop getting distracted and start paying attention. I think my cue's coming up.

Dance, then, wherever you may be
For I am the Lord of the dance, said He
And I'll lead you all wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He.

I'm ready.

This is the Faith!ramble journal of Nori (nlduffy), a place I'll probably be using to muddle out exactly who I am these days, what I believe, why I believe it, and what that means to me.

A little bit about me, and why I'm even thinking about religion this much anyway-

So, I'm a Catholic, and not just the Christmas and Easter type either. I go to Mass every Sunday and am involved with music ministry. You're probably going to hear a lot about music here, as it's a very important part of my faith.

I love being Catholic, it connects me to so many people. For instance, I was in Spain this summer, walking the Camino De Santiago (that's an entry for another time), going to mass with people from all over the world. I heard prayers in so many different languages. But we all had a common experience. Language didn't matter.

But language does sort of matter, a lot. The majority of my fellow Catholics live in third world countries in Asia, Africa and Latin America. I'm currently in university studying Spanish in an attempt to be able to get to really know my brothers and sisters in Latin America. If I were talented enough to learn a non-romance based language, I'd so do that too.

I love the concept of living in solidarity with a community. I've been to El Salvador once already, working with a Christian Base Community (Liberation Theology, that's another post too!) and am so thankful that I had that opportunity. It changed my life.

While in El Salvador, I worked pretty closely with a wonderful woman named Sister Fran. Sister Fran is a Sister of Providence, a religious order that lives and works with the poor. Since returning from El Salvador, I've thought a lot about what I should be doing with my life, where God is calling me to go.

I think my future just might be as a sister in a religious community. Right now I'm looking at entering the Sisters of Providence when I finish college. This journal is hopefully going to help me examine that idea.

I don't promise that this journal is going to make a lot of sense. I just want a place where I can start to truly sort out what's going on in my life.