c. 1999 Religion News Service

SPRINGFIELD, Mass. _ As priests become fewer and farther between, once radical notions of expanding the role of women and the laity in the church _ and even allowing priests to marry _ now have the ring of common sense and spiritual truth to many priests and nuns.

“I am not a flaming feminist, and I am not looking for ordination,” says Sister Constance Quinlan, outgoing president of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Holyoke, Mass. “But I believe that there are women called to the priesthood, and it is sad these gifts are not being looked at in our lifetime.”

Two recent events in the Massachusetts diocese of Springfield underscore the shortage of priests and changing attitudes toward increased roles for women and laity.

In this densely Catholic region, not a single priest was ordained this spring. Instead of the traditional ordination Mass, the diocese held a “vocations awareness” Mass _ a work fair of sorts _ in the hope of enticing some men among the faithful to consider joining the dwindling, graying ranks of the priesthood.

At the same time, in Holyoke, the Sisters of St. Joseph, a traditional and obedient order of religious women, installed its most radical member, Sister Jane Morrissey, 57, as its president.

The two events are not unrelated.

In interviews, church leaders, priests and religious women say the church should be looking at the very issues that Pope John Paul II doesn’t want to even talk about.

In fact, they say, some changes are already afoot: The church ordains married Episcopalian ministers as Catholic priests, and priests have allowed the laity to give sermons.

Sister Mary Caritas, 71, former president of Mercy Hospital and a Sister of Providence who has shepherded the historic transition of her order’s dedication to running the local health-care system from the hands of religious women into the hands of the laity, agrees.

She sees no theological reason to deny women ordination.

“It is a man-made prohibition,” says Caritas, “and I don’t believe the Lord wants it that way.”

Such sentiments, plainly stated, may surprise some. If so, just as surprising is the equanimity with which many others in the church receive them.

The religious women of western Massachusetts are considered mainstream orders that have “not colored too far outside of the lines,” says Jeanean Merkel, communications director for the Leadership Conference for Women Religious, recognized by the Vatican as the official group to represent religious women in the United States.

She says 90 percent of the leadership representing religious women _ about 80,000 sisters nationwide _ believes that the Vatican ought to allow public discussions on ordination of women.

The Most Rev. Thomas Dupre, bishop of the Springfield diocese, says he personally doesn’t oppose the ordination of women but he supports the pope’s ruling.

“The Holy Father won’t talk about it. He has spoken with authority that the church has no authority” to ordain women, Dupre says.

“We believe when the Holy Father speaks, he is guided by the Holy Spirit,” Dupre says.

Some sisters disagree.

“The Holy Spirit gets blamed for a lot,” says Irish-born Mary McGeer, 60, who has worked in Massachusetts parishes for 40 years.

“If we were concerned about the priesthood and the shortage of vocations today, we would seriously be looking at the return of married priests, optional celibacy of priests and the ordination of women,” says McGeer, a Sister of St. Joseph for 42 years.

The vocations Mass was held to publicly underscore the shortage of new priests _ the diocese has 144 priests, less than half of the 330 it had 30 years ago _ and to call attention to the fact that this June is only the second time in a century the Springfield Diocese had no one to ordain. It first happened two years ago.

Springfield’s dearth of priests is a reflection of a national trend. In 1965, there were 33,141 priests. Thirty years later _ the latest year for which complete statistics are available _ there were 32,348. This may not seem like a significant decrease until one looks at the increasing size of some parishes and the average age _ 58 _ of the priests.

The numbers are even worse for women religious. In 1965 there were 179,954 nuns; currently there are 82,412, with half of them older than 70.

The dwindling numbers help explain why the Sisters of St. Joseph _ almost all of whom entered convent life as teen-age girls _ unanimously chose Morrissey, the very sister often considered by her community as the ultimate counterculturalist, the radical, the free spirit, to lead them now.

Morrissey has been arrested four times for her political activism. Although soft-spoken, she often disagrees with the pope. She’s devoted to the Eucharist and to the person on the street. She left college classrooms teaching medieval literature to work in Springfield’s poorest neighborhoods.

But now, the sister who was always considered too far ahead of the rest finds the rest have placed her in charge, to lead the way into an uncertain future.

“I think Jane has always been ahead of her time. The community has caught up with Jane. She has always been 10 steps ahead of us,” says Sister Frances Gloster, 58, of St. John’s Parish in Agawam, Mass., who has been in the Sisters of St. Joseph for 40 years.

Sister Eleanor Dooley, 71, who teaches religion at Our Lady of the Elms College, says the church needs to do some soul-searching.

“When we face the future, we have to ask ourselves if there is a prospect that the availability of the Eucharist and other sacraments may be denied because of the shortage of a specific gender,” Dooley says.

Springfield priests say they would welcome women as ordained colleagues.

“It’s anatomy,” not Scripture, that prevents the church from ordaining women, says the Rev. Paul Manship, pastor of Holy Family Church in Springfield. He adds that he would accept back married Catholic priests “in a minute.”

If this new, bold openness to change has been forged in a time of looming crisis for the church, it should not be mistaken for panic or desperation. Conversations with these priests and sisters reveal a sense that what lies ahead is not the decline of church life as they have known it, but its metamorphosis.

“I don’t see this as a sadness,” says the Rev. Hugh Crean, pastor of Blessed Sacrament in Westfield, Mass., who is scoping out expanded roles for the laity on behalf of the bishop. He sees a “church that will be more horizontal than vertical.”

“The sisters don’t mind dying and being reborn,” says Sister Annette McDermott, 41, of Westfield, the youngest and newest member of the Sisters of St. Joseph. She took her final vows earlier this month.

“I don’t think the end is near,” says Morrissey. “I think the moment of transformation is at hand. Each transformation involves some ending and some beginning. This is a phoenix moment, and something is already rising from these ashes.”

DEA END MORIARTY