Perspective Ask not what Joan can do for you
By THOMAS C. FOX
When Mary Hembrow Synder asked me if
I would participate in a Festschrift in honor of Benedictine Sr. Joan
Chittister, I jumped at the chance.
How could I pass up an opportunity to celebrate a friend, longtime
NCR columnist and board member? How could I turn down a request to draw
well-deserved recognition to a prominent church leader?
I had one serious reservation, but I kept it to myself.
This would be no ordinary Festschrift -- no ordinary book
of essays by several writers to honor a scholar on a special
occasion. The subject would not be Chittisters writing, but a
topic she holds dear. What do you think is the most important spiritual
question of our time? was the question two-dozen authors were asked to
ponder.
Synder, director of Religious Studies and Philosophy at Mercyhurst
College in Erie, Pa., where Chittister once studied, spent more than a year
hounding her authors, insuring that they met their deadlines. Someone remarked
it was like herding cats. After some deft editing the book appeared recently:
Spiritual Questions for the Twenty-first Century: Essays in Honor of Joan D
Chittister (Orbis Books, $18).
Chittister is special by any measure. She overcame polio, which
put her in a wheelchair and iron lung just weeks after she entered the
Benedictines at age 16. She became the first in her religious community to earn
a doctorate (in communication theory and social psychology). At age 35 she
became president of the largest federation of Benedictine women in the United
States. Soon after, she was chosen president of the American Benedictine
Prioresses and president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious.
Chittisters peace and justice vision, always with an eye to
supporting marginalized women, has transformed the once aging Erie Benedictines
into a vibrant womens religious community. Some 135 Benedictines are
involved in ministries that explode the imagination.
Consider a few: an inner-city art house for disadvantaged
youngsters, an environmental center for teen retreats, a job training center,
apartments for elderly poor persons, the states largest on-site food
distribution center and a soup kitchen. The community also runs a womens
advocacy program and a child development center, has settled war refugees and
housed Pax Christi USA.
It supports artists and sells pottery, art, woodcarvings and
needlepoint created by Benedictine community members. It has built hermitages
in nearby woods for retreatants and opened a prayer center in the inner city.
It has organized bankers, lawyers and doctors to read on their lunch breaks to
young children.
The words Erie Benedictines have become synonymous
with peacemaking. The communitys publishing efforts continue to grow. It
prints books, journals and videotapes.
But back to Chittister -- and my reservation about the
Festschrift.
At the end of the Festschrift gathering, Synder asked me to
say a few words. I decided frankness was in order. At that moment my mind
returned to a few days I spent with Chittister in Rome last year. I was with
her when she addressed a gathering at a religious institute not far from the
Vatican. More than 500 had come out to hear her, many of them leaders of
religious congregations. Vatican officials were almost certainly in the
crowd.
The topic of the talk had been publicized as The Sins of
Patriarchy. This was a woman who was about to enter the proverbial
lions den in the land of the lions.
Just moments before she entered the hall I looked into her eyes.
What I saw at that moment was not only fear but also loneliness. Belief and
passion and the experiences and wills of countless women had brought her to
this point. But at that moment she looked alone and vulnerable. She asked for a
prayer and a hug as she took a breath and prepared to face her audience.
What struck me deeply at that moment was not how courageous she
was, but rather how ordinary. There she was struggling to muster the strength
needed to meet the challenge. She began her talk biting courage into her lower
lip.
Ive thought back to that occasion as I have pondered what we
ask so readily of our leaders, our heroes. Ive wondered if in asking more
of them we demand less of ourselves. Do we take other peoples
courage for granted? (What have you done for us lately,
Joan?) Leadership comes with its own burdens -- sometimes lonely burdens.
But we ought not add to these burdens if we can avoid it.
As for the Festschrift, my concern had been that the
honors, however deserved, could set Chittister even farther apart from the rest
of us. And might add more to our expectations of her.
No, I would not have called off the project. I participated in it.
She deserves praise for her work. However, it must be accompanied by greater
discernment on our part.
Fortunately Chittisters community understands the dynamics
involved here. Hers is a nurturing community. As for the rest of us, we might
consider how we can avoid inadvertently separating ourselves from our leaders.
We might consider how we can better bond with them by supporting them. Healthy
community life involves reciprocity. The Chittisters of our church need us, as
we need them. Often even more.
Tom Fox is NCR publisher. He can be reached at
tfox@natcath.org
National Catholic Reporter, May 11,
2001
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