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Books: In time of eucharistic
famine, womens groups break bread
By JANE REDMONT
WOMENEUCHARIST By Sheila Durkin Dierks WovenWord Press,
Boulder, Colo., 315 pages, $16.95
Women in contemporary churches, Rosemary Radford
Ruether writes, are suffering from linguistic deprivation and eucharistic
famine.
Sheila Durkin Dierks, in WomenEucharist, documents
communities of women who have decided they will no longer starve for
soul-feeding liturgy or life-giving words. Catholic women in the United States
have been gathering among themselves to celebrate the Eucharist for at least a
decade, without a priest as presider, mostly in private homes, all around the
country.
Dierks has identified over 100 such gatherings that meet on a
regular basis at least once a month. She sent extensive questionnaires to 30 of
the groups and spent time visiting, interviewing and celebrating with five of
them. She herself is a member of a monthly womens Eucharist group, as
well as a biweekly family group and a local parish.
Feminist liturgy is not a new reality. Last falls Catholic
womens Eucharist in Oakland, Calif., called A Critical Mass
(NCR, Oct. 17), was a public manifestation of an informal phenomenon
whose implications for the life of the church we cannot ignore -- whatever we
may think of the phenomenon itself. WATER, the Womens Alliance for
Theology, Ethics and Ritual, has been documenting the existence of feminist
base communities for the better part of a decade and has lost count of their
number, which it estimates to be in the hundreds.
Some of these groups, gathered for worship, support and work for
social justice, overlap with Dierkss sample. Most do not. Some of the
base communities and womens Eucharist groups include children and men;
the great majority are groups of women meeting in a space the size of a living
room. Most plan and lead their own liturgies.
Feminist liturgists have also come into their own nationally,
serving as consultants, planners and coordinators, often authors, sometimes
composers, dancers and choreographers. Among them are Diann Neu of WATER in
Washington, Medical Mission Sr. Miriam Therese Winter of Hartford, Conn.,
Kathleen Henry of Boston, Incarnate Word Sr. Martha Ann Kirk of San Antonio and
Victoria Rue of Oakland, Calif.
Dierks examines the formation and motivation of womens
Eucharist groups, their ecclesial identity, use of language, understanding of
the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist and vision of their present and future.
I suspect, Dierks writes, that friendship, genuine,
voluntary, non-hierarchical embrace of one another is the core of most
womens Eucharist groups. Friends begin groups, friends bring other
friends, friends of one person become friends of another.
Like other feminist base communities, the groups tend to have
rotating leadership. While the readings they share include both biblical and
other writings, Jesus remains central to most of these liturgical communities.
They are more explicitly Christocentric than many of the base communities
identified with Women-Church, a movement focused on womens religious
self-determination, which is a reference point for some womens Eucharist
groups, but not all.
Some of the women experience fear in the course of participation
in their Eucharistic celebrations -- mostly fear of losing church jobs or
becoming estranged from their parish staff or, in a few cases, penalized by
their religious order. None of the women reported experiencing any guilt.
It was only leading up to the first liturgy, one said,
that it felt strange to dare to celebrate. In the midst of doing, it
seemed like the most natural thing in the world, being there in a circle of
friends, asking Jesus to be with us, telling him we love him, sharing with him
and each other our lives and trying to open his words and stories to understand
what they have meant to us and what they will mean in the future.
No heavens split open, striking us down for daring to
violate the Holy. Rather, I, at the conclusion of our first gathering, looked
at the faces of these women and thought, This is holy, this is what we
have been called to do all along.
Among the poignant realities uncovered by Dierks in the quiet
revolution of womens Eucharist is that nearly every group thought it was
the only one of its kind. In fact, however, womens Eucharist groups are a
sign of the times on their way to becoming a mass movement.
Some will greet this news with joy and others with alarm. In some
ways, however, it matters little what any of us think of womens
Eucharist: It has become a fact of life. It is also an ecclesial reality --
part of our vast and messy church and itself a form of church -- and it is not
going away. We can argue about the figures -- what proportion of Catholic women
worships in parishes, who worships in womens Eucharist groups or
womens base communities, how many worship nowhere. But this much is
clear: These three realities currently coexist, along with other options for
worship and communal affiliation.
Womens Eucharist groups, like other feminist liturgical base
communities, are the logical culmination of the change in the Catholic
womens movement over the past 20 years: the move from Please let us
in to We are church, from Please, sir, may I have some
more, to womens spiritual, liturgical and ecclesial
self-determination or agency.
When women do not find what they want in their parish church, they
create what they want, weary of beating their heads against the wall. Inclusive
language and the ordination of women are part of the problem, Dierks found, but
what is at issue is something more fundamental: the disjunction between the
message of the gospel and the behavior of the clergy, and the experience of
women in churches that make them feel less than fully human -- unwelcome,
unacknowledged, demeaned, unable to pray in the style and with the passion they
desire.
Most in womens Eucharist communities identify as Catholic in
some form, but Dierks notes a loosening of the links of traditional
church identification, not the denial of that affiliation, but seeing it only
as a part of the way in which responders see themselves. Their
Catholicism is hemmed up with adjectives.
Many, like Dierks, have at least a dual affiliation, both a parish
and a womens Eucharist community. There are, however, those for whom
church attendance has become, in the words of one woman, an occasion of
sin, and for whom womens Eucharist is home -- perhaps provisional,
certainly imperfect, but more hearth and haven than the parishes they have left
behind.
Dierks is honest about her social location and that of
womens Eucharist as she has experienced and observed it. Womens
Eucharist is a white phenomenon and one with a lot of gray hair. This is no
reason to discount it or minimize its importance: It is, however, a reason and
challenge to place it in a broader perspective. Where are the Latina, Native,
Pacific-Asian and African-American Catholic women? Where are the younger
Catholic women? What are their needs? How are they meeting them? Are there ways
for Catholic women to come together across cultures and races?
Dierks and virtually all the women she has surveyed are also
restrained in their expectations -- not of the liturgies themselves, but of
their significance. They know what they are doing to be provisional,
incomplete, experimental, in process. This book, says Dierks in her
introduction, is not about final answers. Few who participated in the
research for this book believe that women gathering to celebrate Eucharist is
the ultimate solution to the problems which confront us.
It is, however, a slaking of deep thirst, and relief,
delight, Gods presence with an intensity never before experienced ... an
oasis, a long sought place of safety in the desert, not home yet, but wonderful
for now.
While most womens Eucharist participants believe they are
involved in a radical or revolutionary action, they are mixed in their
evaluation of its impact. Some, weary and wounded, have given up hope for the
institutional church. Whether we make a difference or not has stopped
being the question, says one. Others understand themselves as change
agents. I am actively committed to reform. Women-Church and the gospels
give me courage and stamina, she adds.
These women, says Dierks, are long-distance
runners for change. Most do not expect immediate change and do not
speculate when and how the larger church will become the inclusive, joyful,
justice-seeking community for which they yearn. This does not mean they are
without hope: An impact on the church? wrote one of the women.
Well, who thought the Iron Curtain would disappear when it did?
WomenEucharist is the first fruit of WovenWord Press, which
Dierks recently founded. In a recent interview, Dierks said she hopes to assist
especially those [works] which might not see publication if not for the
willingness of small presses to take a chance.
The book has some stylistic flaws -- missing commas, some awkward
turns of phrase, misspellings of names of leading feminists such as Carter
Heyward and Gloria Steinem -- and most of all a confusing layout: epigraphs and
quotes are well-footnoted but not clearly attributed in the narrative, and the
chapter divisions and transitions require some guesswork on the part of the
reader.
Beneath WomenEucharists beautiful cover, the sans
serif type is a strain on the eyes, the page margins small. In subsequent
printings, it would be helpful to make the book visually less dense. The
material is welcoming; it deserves to reside within a welcoming design.
Despite these barriers, WomenEucharist is well worth
reading; we put ourselves through far worse with the obscure academic style of
countless other works, including the writings of some of our leading feminist
theologians. Dierks book is replete with quotes from members of
womens Eucharist communities and is at its best when it highlights them.
Its implications for our understanding of church and Eucharist are profound, as
are the questions womens Eucharist groups raise about ordination by their
very existence.
One of the major arguments for the ordination of women among
moderates in the Catholic church, for instance, is that the people are being
deprived of the Eucharist, so central to our Catholic lives, because of the
priest shortage. But what if the people, as these women do, simply celebrate
the Eucharist, which is central to their faith? We were not going to wait
around, said one womens Eucharist member who attended a caucus on
the subject at this years Call to Action meeting. We were going to
worship in a way that kept us close to Jesus.
Womens Eucharist dissociates leadership of eucharistic
celebration from ordination, sacrament from ministry-set-apart. We may argue
ad infinitum about the validity of these sacramental celebrations; the
fact is that they are occurring, reverently, creatively and obstinately around
the country.
Who can stop them? How can women -- and men -- who have
participated in them go back to their parishes and be the same Catholic
Christians they were before? And if sacramental celebration does not require
ordained leadership, what then is the meaning of ordination and of priestly
ministry? How do we define what is sacramental? The questions are up for grabs.
Meanwhile, the women break bread.
WomenEucharist calls for more than an attentive reading. It
invites the next step, a careful examination of the context and consequences of
womens liturgical agency. It is precisely because its implications are so
extensive and profound that this book, homespun as it is, belongs in liturgy
and ecclesiology classrooms as much as it belongs in the hands of people
seeking new forms of worship to nourish their souls and gain strength to live
the gospel in the world.
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