A "Reflection" by Elsie Hainz McGrath - "Receive the Gospel"

Insights into dissent and rebellion.

Receive the Gospel whose herald you now are.
Believe what you read.
Preach what you believe.
Practice what you preach.
I remember how moved I was when Archbishop Justin Rigali said those words as he put the Gospel book into the hands of my husband eleven years ago. Perhaps it was because Scripture was my favored area of study. Perhaps it was merely because I had never really heard these words proclaimed before. At any rate, they were immensely powerful and, concurrently, humbling, and I thought: What an awesome privilege is being given to my husband. Why can such a gift not be given to me?

On August 12, in a former Masonic temple in midtown Minneapolis, it was. But it was given more completely to me by Bishop Patricia Fresen than it had been given to my husband, for this enlightened Archdiocese of Saint Louis has mandated that ordained deacons cannot preach what they believe – at least not until they have undergone further studies in homiletics and been granted express “permission” to preach by the Ordinary. In other words, one of the primary foci of the Rite of Ordination to the Diaconate for Roman Catholic men could be called a lie.

Becoming a deacon does not, of course, make a person a preacher (or a good homilist). But, as we all know far too well, neither does becoming a priest. What it does do is “allow” the deacon to proclaim the Gospel, a role reserved to the ordained who, apparently, are the only ones “worthy enough” to say the words which have been attributed to Jesus out loud, to others.

When my hands touched the Book of the Gospels that day in Minneapolis, I felt breathless, giddy, flushed. I felt the presence of my husband standing there beside me, my companion of 42 years who has been dead these past nine years but lives with me nightly in my dreaming. It is only a symbol, yes, but what a powerful symbol – a crossing to “the other side,” perhaps, from disciple to apostle, from baptism to ordination, from called to sent. Because it was the most significant part of my husband’s ordination for me, I continue to see it as the focal point of the diaconate. I see it as being sent, just as those first 70 who were sent by Jesus in the Gospel, to proclaim the good news to others – not by reading but by being, by doing, by serving.

Prophetic Obedience

There was another thing that I was totally unprepared for when my husband was ordained. It was his promise of “obedience to his bishop and [that bishop’s] successors.” I was jarred by the militancy of the language, the pomposity of the hierarchy, the abuse of the concept of obedience. I was jarred by my husband’s assent! I had to forcibly hold back the tears and restrain myself from crying out: No! No, don’t do this, Jim This is wrong. This is all wrong!

This is so completely wrong that it is has not a part of any Rite of Ordination that has taken place in the history of Roman Catholic Womenpriests. The reality of this obnoxious promise, in our all-male ordination ritual, is exemplified by what follows: the prostration of the candidates in front of the altar and the bishop and his concelebrants. Before our candidates prostrate themselves, everything and everybody has been removed from the sanctuary except only the altar and the cross. It is only to God and the People of God that we consecrate ourselves.

The prostration, with the singing of the Litany of the Saints all around me, was an experience of profound peace. At some point, I lost track of the saints who were being called upon; I could no longer hear a clear enunciation of names, only a heavenly chorus. At some point, too, I began to hear Ree, who was on my left, singing with the Litany, and I wondered if I was really hearing her or had just lost all cognizance of where the voices were coming from. I was supremely happy, and didn’t want to get up, but eventually I came back into the “present” of time and wondered when I was supposed to get up. How would I know? What if I missed it, or messed it up? Then I thought: Why am I rationalizing this totally irrational, completely spiritual and timeless gift? I relaxed back into the moment. I gave myself up.

In the end, this is the defining moment of ordination. All that comes after this is icing on the cake, so to speak, because it is during that precious time, enveloped in the living and the dead communion of saints – both those being called upon and those surrounding us – that we give ourselves up. We turn our lives completely upside down. Our reason for living is not ours, but Sophia’s – the Spirit, the Wisdom, the Life, the Word, the Christus – which dwells within us.

Sending Out

When my husband had hands laid on him, he was in the sanctuary. The bishop laid hands upon him; then all the concelebrating bishops and priests; then all the other ordained priests and then deacons who were in the assembly. The homogenous parade of men, all dressed the same, all moving like an assembly line down the row, was too obviously exclusive and rote. It smacked of a company of “good ole boys,” and the altar rail loomed like an impenetrable divider between us and “them.” After they were vested and “introduced” as new deacons, I felt like a sword had pierced my heart.


At my own ordination, following the laying on of hands by the bishop and concelebrating priests, the community was invited to lay hands upon us. Other ordained clergy, Catholic and otherwise, joined in with the rest of the community – women and men and children, relatives and friends and strangers – all moved to make the silent pilgrimage forward and pour out their prayers upon each of us. There was no division, no exclusivity, no roteness in this incredible experience of loving and being loved. The pressure of some hands, the placement of others, the throbbing in my temples – all bespoke of the presence and the power of God, the hope and the faith of a people who wanted more and were sending us out to help bring about a kin-dom wherein all are truly welcome. After we were vested and “introduced” as new deacons, it was obvious in the faces that beamed back at us that here there were no divisions; all were truly one. . .Sacrament.

What can one say about those who manifest such delusions except that we must pray for them, especially since they have abandoned Christ and His Church to follow the father of lies...

And Liguori is selling this woman's items on its website.

Source.