A True Leader

Do I feel that my position as the president of Columbia Catholic Undergraduates and my sex as a woman conflict with the fact that I, as a woman, cannot lead the congregation in the Holy Mass, the most fundamental celebration in the Catholic faith? This was the question posed to me when I agreed to write this article on being a Catholic woman on Columbia’s campus. Although I don’t think this is the most interesting question to ask about the nature of Catholic womanhood, it certainly seems that the implied larger question—whether women can be leaders in the Catholic Church—is worth answering if for no other reason than that it is discussed publicly by so many today.

To answer the more specific question directly: No, I do not believe that there is any contradiction created by these two facts. Yes, I am the president of the undergraduate Catholic community on campus. And yes, the church teaches that only men can be priests. It’s beyond the scope of this article to address female ordination, and I think that narrowing the question simply to female ordination misses the point. Priests are an integral and vital part of the Body of Christ that is the Church, particularly in the sacramental life of this Body. But exclusively linking leadership with the priesthood unnecessarily reduces what it means to have a voice or to be a leader in the Church. Incidentally, the Church also teaches that all men and women are to imitate the holiness of the blessed Virgin Mary, exalted above all human beings as Queen of Heaven and Earth. This leads to the larger question: Can women be leaders in the Catholic Church? The answer is an unequivocal yes.

I can answer this question so readily and earnestly because of the church’s unique and beautiful teaching on leadership. In fact, I can think of no better way to illustrate this teaching than through last Tuesday’s Gospel. In the following passage, Jesus teaches his disciples what it means to be great in the eyes of God.
“[Jesus and his disciples] came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, [Jesus] began to ask them, ‘What were you arguing about on the way?’ But they remained silent. For they had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, ‘If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.’ Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, ‘Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me’” (Mark 9:30-37).

Christ turns the false greatness that the disciples are vainly seeking on its head, proposing a radically different idea of what it means to be first among many. Jesus calls all those seeking greatness to pursue it by becoming the least among all, to be the one who serves others rather than expecting to be served. Christ offers us a child—a person without authority or worldly experience—as a model for those we are called to serve. Embrace those who may be less than you in every worldly respect, such as this child, Christ says, and you will receive God.

Important for our discussion, nowhere in this call to greatness does Jesus specify who he intends to be great. Yes, he is talking with his disciples who are men. But he’s not speaking about them—he’s speaking to them, instructing them in that specific moment, and us in this present moment, through the Bible. Christ tells us that anybody can become great, without specifying the age, sex, or any other qualifier of the people he is calling to greatness. Greatness in the fully Christian sense of the word cannot be restricted by human categories of even the most basic biological variety. Women are not called to greatness simply because they are women nor are they inhibited in growth of greatness by the sex that God has bestowed upon them. Greatness is not limited by who can achieve it but only in how it can be achieved.

Christian leadership, as a means of greatness, must be understood first and foremost as a call to humble service that is the means to receive God and be perfected in Him. Thus my identity as Catholic woman and leader is not rooted in my sex, but in Christ’s call to serve others, a call to discipleship shared with all those—men and women alike—who have listened to His voice and chosen to serve others in witness to the gospel.

The author is a Barnard College senior majoring in history. She is president of the Columbia Catholic Undergraduates.