Presenting the “Presentation”

At the Mass of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple this past Sunday, the priest began by calling forth two African-American female elders. Then he knelt before them as they silently bestowed their prayers and blessing upon him. It is an African tradition, he explained, for a younger person to receive the blessing of the elders of the community before speaking. I was touched by a male member of the clergy visually demonstrating such humility as well as respect and reverence for those who were female, older, and most likely wiser. The rest of the service to come seemed full of promise.

In Saturday’s post in The Table, Regina Bannan pointed out that preachers have a choice to read either a shortened version of “The Presentation” Gospel, leaving out the prophet Anna’s role, or the full version including it. She also asked us to post a response to her questions: Did your worship include both versions? Did your preacher select the full reading? Was Anna mentioned?  My answers are Yes, Yes, and….

When the priest reached the podium, he seemed unable to locate the Gospel reading for
“The Presentation”. He leafed through pages. He pulled out another version from under the lecturn as the silence grew so uncomfortable we all sang another round of the communion hymn. Then he left the lectern and pulled a smaller paperback from under his bench on the altar. As he and we sighed in relief, he read the Gospel, the full Gospel, with Anna’s role included. His determination to keep searching until he could be inclusive of women in the reading was inspirational.

But, alas, in his lengthy homily, he never mentioned her. All the pronouns for God were male; God the “Father” made “His” promises to Levi and “Sons”.  Poor Anna. Poor daughters. Present at Presentations and revelations and then blackened or whited out.

It’s another case of “so close and yet so far”.  Like the Pope with his hints of change for the better, more inclusion, expansion, acceptance, so encouraging to start off, or when we see them as a start, and then…so many steps back.

In our church, we receive communion in the form of bread and wine rather than hosts. I happened to be in the priest’s rather than the Eucharistic minister’s line. He mischievously smiled his recognition of me and handed me a huge chunk of the bread. As I managed to choke it down, I wondered if I was receiving a message. I am always badgering him about using sexist language and pronouns and including more women in ministry and leadership. He is a wonderfully receptive listener and obviously bemused (more than “converted” I fear) by what I say and how I say it. After Mass, he came over to me and whispered, “That (the large piece of communion bread) was to keep your mouth so full you couldn’t talk!” and then both he and I laughed. He claims to enjoy the challenges I present. I’m always hoping for enjoyment and action.

The mouth full of communion bread was, however, gratifying. Like Anna, like all of us, I could take in the Spirit and, swallowing a huge chunk of insight, learn to talk with, and listen more to, the community. Together with the elders, who hopefully bless us or are us, we can then persist living in the light of the inner wisdom all members and of all genders.