PHOTO: Mary van Balen
As is her custom, a friend of mine invited some women friends to her home for a Holy Thursday prayer and dinner. This year, four of us gathered around her table, sang, read a reflection, and shared food. During the evening, she told us each was invited because of the ministries we have been living for years. One woman was the first (and surprising to me) the only Black American principal in her diocesan school system. She remembered flaming crosses lit along the street the day she was appointed. She continues to work with young people and is active in the Ladies of Peter Claver association. Another woman has been organizing her parish’s religious education for years. Our hostess particularly noted her work with the teens and how she has been able to encourage and inspire them, not easy task as anyone who works with young people know.
Our friend chose to focus on my ministry of writing columns, articles, and books, which has spanned decades. At the moment, waiting is a big part of my “work,” waiting for an agent to find a home for my latest book. And our hostess is well-known in the area for her work with women, often poor and marginalized. The list of her work would take a post of its own, but her prophetic voice has always spoken clearly for the truth she knows, no matter how her message is received.
After dinner and before dessert, we prayed together and blessed one another, poured water over hands that have worked hard over the years to be priest to God’s people. Of course, all are called to holiness, as Vatican II documents proclaim. All share in the common priesthood of Christ through their baptism. Still, as I sat in the presence of these women, I wondered again about the Catholic Church’s refusal to admit women to the order of priesthood.
I thought about women around the world who know the call from God, they know themselves to be “priest,” and yet they must do their work quietly. Often, their efforts meet resistance. I read that Pope Francis is open to the idea of married men being ordained. He doesn’t seem so open to ordaining women.
As I sat with these women and prayed, I gave thanks for those women who, called to priest God’s people in a special way, do so as best as they are able, faithful to their call, even if the Roman Catholic institution has yet to recognize what is being lived before their eyes.
I saw snowdrops today, spread with abandon across a friend’s yard. Flowers! Spring, rumored to be coming soon, is on the way. After this relentless winter, flowers atop green stems are a welcome sight. Forsythia has not yet bloomed, so, according to my grandmother, we have at least three more snows to go, but I don’t mind. Today’s snowdrops were a seal on the promise of warmer days ahead. “Have a little faith,” they seemed to say. “Remember other years. Spring always comes.”
Pope Francis addressed the “City and the World” today in the traditional Urbi et Orbi message as thousands gathered to here him and receive the Christmas blessing. (read it 
I was trying to sit quietly, to be aware of the Holy Presence within and without. The beeswax candle was burning. Scripture was waiting to be savored. And corn muffins were baking in the oven.