I won’t forget when a priest of the Episcopalian order welcomed a lost little Jesuit novice – me – into her Church in DC circa 2010. Ever since, my soul ached: why not us? Fast forward 10 years. I won’t forget when my academic mentor at BC offered an image to our class of Church as a living, breathing entity that is currently not using both lungs in its current model of hierarchical leadership. Ever since, I thought: why not now? 

Seeing women deacons would serve as a vast, yet strikingly modest, step in the right direction to help loosen the unnecessary (can we say unjust?) thorn in the Church’s side. It would open doors allowing the full range of gifts (of women) to heal, accompany, and refresh others. It would bring about the kind of renewing of spirit that we often pray for in our Church. 

Like my recent endoscopic sinus surgery, a fair amount of bloodshed immediately following the procedure was expected; but to think, I went decades not knowing that breathing properly was supposed to feel this way. 

May the Church be granted tongues of fire (over and again) to shed paralyzing fear like those early apostles in the upper room, allowing the Good Spirit to spring forth that our one Body may practice prophetic love and reconciliation, bridging impossible divisions, and becoming a home that truly empowers all.