Mercy for Querida Amazonia

Reading the first three dreams of Francis’s apostolic exhortation on the Amazonian Synod, I am inspired enough to be merciful when I read the fourth.

Those of you who are more concerned for the future of the earth than you are for women’s ordination – and I know you are out there – will be inspired by this document. What do I love about it? The poetry Francis quotes. The first is by ANA VARELA TAFUR, “Timareo” in Lo que no veo en visiones, Lima, 1992. The author of Escritores Amazonicos says “within the complex and very little known world of Amazonian literature I highlight the poetry of Ana Varela Tafur (Iquitos, 1963) for being considered the main female figure of Lorena poetry.” I imagine Francis putting favorite nuggets into a file – maybe into a shoebox – and retrieving them when writing:

Varela Tafur sums up Francis’s first three dreams: about the “rights of the poor,” the “distinctive cultural riches,” and the “superabundant life teeming in its rivers and forests.” His understanding of colonialism is sophisticated. He faults two regimes focused on extraction of resources: the original Spanish and Portuguese enslavement and the contemporary consumerist destruction. I will note that in a rare textual footnote, #17, Francis expands on the history of the “Laws of the Indies,” as he does in the exhortation, to emphasize the dignity of the indigenous peoples rather than the geopolitical implications of the Pope dividing the whole new world between the Iberian empires. But that aside, this is not a cheerful document. Francis calls us to feel outrage (15). And he does not excuse the misdeeds of the church in the region as he praises the heroic efforts of many missioners.

You will be delighted that I learned how to identify women’s names in Spanish from reading about the participants in the Synod. Here is another poem Francis quotes, this by YANA LUCILA LEMA, Tamyahuan Shamakupani (Con la lluvia estoy viviendo), 1:

An English website includes this and more of her writing; it’s the first collection of Quichua poetry. Lema is a cultural worker in Equador; I wonder if she was present in Rome.

The poetry has calmed me down enough to tell you about the final dream of Francis, for which I hope he eventually begs for mercy: “I dream of Christian communities capable of generous commitment, incarnate in the Amazon region, and giving the Church new faces with Amazonian features.” Let’s have a new Church, not the same faces in the same places. Francis has gotten the message that women wish to be ordained, though he doesn’t get to it until paragraph 100 out of 111. He urges us not to reduce our “understanding of the church to her (emphasis added) functional structures (which) would lead us to believe that women would be granted a greater status and participation in the Church only if they were admitted to Holy Orders.” “Clericalizing women,” he says, “would diminish the great value of what they have already accomplished, and subtly make their indispensable contribution less effective.” Rather than explaining what he means by this last bit – he has already opined on the role of the priest as celebrating the sacraments, especially the Eucharist and Penance (the Anointing of the Sick only gets a footnote #129) – in 101 he expounds on to “the dialogue between the Spouse and his Bride.” I thought that metaphor died in the last century. Read any Catholic (and many secular) news outlets for a deconstruction of that theology; it bores me.

Francis warns that “partial conceptions of power” are a trap, trapping the Church into clericalism. Now I don’t like clericalism, either. I would be perfectly happy with a priesthood limited to sacramental roles. I would be perfectly happy with a Synodal process that allowed delegates from all appropriate groups to debate and vote and summarize and carry out policies. But we don’t have that kind of priesthood or Synods, bishoprics or papacy. What Francis could have done to eliminate clericalism by ordaining just mature deacons – the bare minimum – he did not do. Instead he dreams of sending priest missionaries from affluent countries to join the heavily-praised consecrated women, indigenous and foreign, whose presence now redeems the Amazon. For this omission, he must beg mercy.

I have four conclusions in mind.

First is a Philly Special. For those of you who are not fans of American football, specifically the Eagles, this is a scoring run into the endzone by a pass from the quarterback to someone else and back to the quarterback. It won the Superbowl a couple of years ago. I’d be happy if Francis emulates Nick Foles, grabs the ball himself, and just ordains women.

Second is my brief summary to the SEPA WOC google group sepawoc@googlegroups.com (You can join. I approve you.): “An odd evasion by Francis of political responsibility in favor of inspiration. Once quasi-democratic processes are launched, ignoring them is dangerous, indeed. Inspiration started five years ago; we expect more than leaving the recommendations on the shelf.”

Third, I taught Anne Moody’s Coming of Age in Mississippi (1968) for as many years as I could. Her autobiography ends as she travels on a bus to Washington in 1963, going to testify at hearings held by a coalition of civil rights organizations. “We’re gonna tell ‘em what Mississippi is all about,” she quotes one of her co-workers in the field.

“I sat there listening to ‘We Shall Overcome,’ looking out of the window … Images of all that had happened kept crossing my mind … I saw the face of Mrs. Chinn as she said, ‘We ain’t big enough to do it by ourselves,” …

“’Moody’ . . .  it was little Gene again interrupting his singing. ‘Moody, we’re going to get things straight in Washington, huh?’ I didn’t answer him. I knew I didn’t have to.” Moody ends the book: “I WONDER. I really WONDER.” Remember how long change takes, how incomplete it seems at every step, how entrenched the systems are.

Fourth and finally, I could remark on the last poem, written by Francis himself, a prayer to Mary. Rather, I’ll pray for leadership in today’s church. I’ll say to Francis, “Do not abandon us in this dark hour. Amen.”