Uncommon: not ordinarily encountered: unusual; remarkable, exceptional

Priest: someone who is authorized to perform the sacred rites of a religion especially as a mediatory agent between humans and God

Priesthood: the office, dignity, or character of a priest

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

On the first day of the Christology course that was part of my ministry training, our (female) professor asked those of us who felt called to ordination to raise our hands. The men in our class, as was to be expected, raised their hands as they were on the track to becoming deacons. My friend, Karen, and I also raised our hands. That got us a giggle because women, of course, are not allowed to be ordained, either as a deacon or a priest, in the Catholic Church.

I was a preacher
My heart broke for all the world
But teaching was unrighteous for a girl
In the summer I was baptized in the mighty Colorado
In the winter I heard the hounds and I knew I had been found
And in my Savior’s name, I laid my weapons down
But I am still around… (Highwomen, lyrics by Amanda Rose Shires / Brandi Carlile / Jimmy L. Webb)

That was thirty years ago, and yet still today, women are barred from priesthood in the Catholic Church. That prohibition, however, has not lessened my call to be priest. In the years since, I have discerned priesthood through two denominations outside of the Catholic Church, but in both instances, the prevalence of clericalism in those institutions dissuaded me from completing that path.

Clericalism:  a policy of maintaining or increasing the power of a religious hierarchy (to Merriam-Webster’s definition, I would add: lauding, flaunting, defending, and enforcing that power and in some cases, using it to justify non-loving acts)

To me, priesthood has never been about power. It has always been about service. Neither has it been about hierarchy. Instead, it is a collaboration of gifts in support of individual and collective need. This is the priesthood I see in Jesus and what he drew forth from those who gathered around him. Jesus was not a leader who wanted followers. Instead, he was a catalyst who empowered people in their gifts. By humbly serving those most in need, Jesus’ example challenged the religious and political institutions of his time. These institutions valued their power and privilege over the people they were meant to serve.

Sadly, Jesus’ example did not stand as the early disciples (Peter and Paul in particular) traded the collaborative empowerment that Jesus’ taught them for patriarchal and hierarchical power. This model still stands today in nearly all Christian institutions. This is why I did not, cannot, and refuse, to fit into any institution that values power over service.

Instead, it seems, I have carved out a priesthood all my own. One that has been ordained, not by a bishop’s anointing and laying on of hands, but by careful attention to the call of Love, and living out that Love in all the many ways I have been called. Sometimes this call looks priestly in the marriages and funerals I officiate. Sometimes this call looks formative as I create and facilitate classes and write books in support of participants’ personal/spiritual development. Sometimes it looks pastoral in the one-on-one spiritual counseling I provide. Sometimes the service I provide supports people in their healing, in finding direction, and in experiencing comfort.

Most commonly, however, my priesthood is confirmed in unexpected and surprising ways. It is known in the 6am phone call from a distant friend seeking support for a family member in crisis. It is known in the generous financial donations I sometimes find in my mailbox. It is known in the confidences people have shared with me during challenging times. It is in the many acquaintances who suddenly seek my support and my own wondering of why they chose me. Why would they trust me with this, I barely know them? And yet, time and time and time again, this is so. People who I know – but not really. Amazing, lovely people who I have come to know and love along the way – but we don’t really hang out. People who I know from simply being me in the small community where I live. People, in whom I’ve likely seen something (love, kindness, generosity, honesty, integrity, authenticity) who are somehow seeing me, and trusting me with the most intimate and challenging times of their lives.

This is the priesthood for which I am most grateful.  A priesthood that is unexpected and surprising and looks absolutely nothing like what we have come to associate with being priest. And yet, it is exactly what the Catholic Church preaches in its invitation to participate in the priesthood of all believers (Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraphs: 1267, 1268, 1141, 1143, 1268, 1305, 1535, 1547, 1591, and 1592). Whereas the institutional church does not recognize my priestly calling, I am profoundly humbled and grateful to all those who have invited me to serve in this role.