St Francis of Assisi, Pray for Us!

Elizabeth Young rsm, 4 October 2024

Today was the Feast of St Francis of Assisi, that wonderful patron of ecology who was actually ordained a deacon in his lifetime, though not a priest. When we had our first icebreaker as a Discerning Deacons group, I had named him as my favourite saint. We began the day with Mass in the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, presided over by one of our priests. It was a wonderful opportunity to share how St Francis has inspired each one of us, and to sing with words that he wrote. I shared how I appreciate him stripping himself (literally at first) of everything that was not essential, and going to speak to the Pope in Rome with only the simplicity of the gospel.

We then gathered at the Piux XI Hall for an educational event with CEAMA (the ecclesial conference of the Amazon). It began with Cardinal Barreto, who was there again to support Sr Laura and all of us. We then heard from 4 panel members about the integration of Ecology, synodality and the ministry of women. Blessed to be asked to be one of them, I will share my words below. We also heard from an indigenous elder who was placed in a residential school where she was not allowed to speak in her language and a young woman who was facing fracking in the precious land of a religious community. Sr Laura spoke powerfully about environmental work being a life-and-death issue for many in the Amazon, and the urgency needed in our response. They were heartfelt and inspiring pleas for ecological action, synodal leadership, and accompaniment of the vulnerable. Despite the dire situations of the world, we left the event with a sense of hope and strength in addressing these challenges together.

Here is the text of my talk:

We know only too well the great challenges that our Earth community is facing at this present time. The havoc of Climate Change, the devastation of war, the abasement of poverty, the terror of pandemic, the scourge of violence, the heartlessness of discrimination, and I could go on and on. From my perspective in Australia, I see deep trauma in our Aboriginal peoples, rising homelessness, a cost of living crisis, not to mention our chronic dance with drought and flood. 

Many of these keep returning one century after another, yet as humans our lives are not meaningless. We have a place in God’s plan, we have a responsibility to learn about these challenges and try to make a difference wherever we can in the time that we have. As a person of privilege, born into a stable family of majority Anglo-Saxon culture with economic and educational advantages that most people can only dream of, I acknowledge this reality. 

Feeling called to ordained ministry from a young age felt like a luxury item – impossible to buy but also not necessary. I thought that there were so many other valuable things I could do with the gifts God had given me, so many others who suffer so much more, so many needs and ways to be part of God’s mission. I even began to see my impossible dream of ordained ministry as a blessing, in that it helped me to understand unfulfilled wishes of many.

But a few things helped me see the interconnections between all these areas of suffering and paths forward. Firstly, I spent a couple of years after school disillusioned with the Catholic Church. I explored spiritualities, denominations and religions that seemed to be living more authentically. I sought less bigotry and more concern to make the world a better place. But then I got heavily involved in interfaith dialogue, events, prayers and common actions. I rediscovered the goodness of religion and its adherents, frail humans though we are. 

I was organising events with leaders from various religious traditions, who were faithful to their beliefs, open-minded to learn from others, and working for peace, justice and ecology. As leaders they played a special role in society and their causes. Faith leaders were seen as ethical and trustworthy, with the ability to build community, access people at the very grassroots and point to what is right with the benefit of centuries of wisdom. They could also conduct people through spaces of prayer and reflection that are so necessary, yet often neglected in non-religious or spiritual settings.

Through all of this I naturally turned back to Jesus, who was still my human model and my divine Saviour. I turned back to the Catholic Church, which provided such a beautiful and coherent theology and source of community and ritual. And I turned back to my dream of religious leadership, imagining that I could give back what I had received from the great examples in my life.

Yet I found that even committing my life permanently as a religious Sister was not an entry into the structures of the Church I loved. I certainly acknowledge the privilege and influence of being part of my larger religious community, and the responsibility this entails. But there is still a value in ordination, both within the Church and in the wider world. As Lumen Gentium says, deacons, “strengthened by sacramental grace, […] are dedicated to the people of God, in communion with the bishop and his presbyterate, in the service of the liturgy, of the word and of charity.” 

This sacramental grace in service allows more good to be done, even as it requires greater accountability and commitment to synodality. In their appointed ministries, Deacons take part in the ecclesial leadership of the local Bishop, and as we know, good leadership means so much. So for me, I felt called to build this conversation around women’s ordained diaconal ministry only when it wasn’t about me and it wasn’t about this issue in isolation any more. It is about co-creating a thriving Earth community with a diverse, and therefore stronger, religious leadership.

Today, in my particular ministry I am blessed to be doing almost the same ministry as deacons. My Bishop cared so much about my remote, mostly Aboriginal community, and wanted to be close to them in providing a full-time ecclesial presence. So he instituted me as a Catechist and Parish Life Coordinator to live as a guest in this beautiful town that, however, has been named as one of the most disadvantaged communities in the state, often shown as an example of the gap between indigenous Australia and the wider population. I have been graced to spend a lot of time listening and walking with the people I love as an official representative of the Church. It means a lot when they invite me to celebrate baptisms and funerals that symbolise the welcome of the wider Catholic community. 

At the moment we have so much sorry business in a very small community and just last week I had to conduct three funerals. It affects us all, but it is an honour to be with people at these times. One of the deceased was a member of the stolen generation and the godfather at the first baptism I performed there. As we share the power of ritual and enter into vulnerable spaces, we look to the cultural traditions and spiritual resources that have meaning and the power of healing. More and more I feel it is God’s mercy, both given and received. 

Yet healing is needed at all levels, including the Church. My ministry is a privilege, yet I don’t see many pathways for other women after me. This issue is part of the great challenges of the world that intersect and influence each other. As we raise women’s participation, we concurrently promote the equality of all people, all genders, cultures, abilities, classes and the protection of Our Common Home. So I believe that diverse and synodal religious leadership is not a luxury item, but the best tool we have.