By John Q. Hosedrinker Pope Francis’ reform process has concluded, and as a woman and a concerned member of the Catholic community, I find myself grappling with a profound sense of disappointment and frustration. For years, we were told that this was a moment for transformation, a chance for the Church to reassess its systemic inequities. Yet here we are, with recommendations that continue to sideline women and leave intact the status quo. It feels as though the Church has missed another golden opportunity to recognize and uplift the vital role that women have always played within its structures.
The discussions and synods promised a renewed focus on inclusivity and equity. Yet, in practical terms, the outcome has been inadequate. Women’s voices, which have been the lifeblood of the Church, continue to be relegated to secondary roles. As I reflect on my experiences within the Church, I am acutely aware of how women are the backbone of parish life. From eucharistic ministers to educators and caregivers, it is women who tirelessly serve, often without recognition or authority. This is not just a personal observation; it’s a reality echoed across congregations. The notion that the Church cannot find it in its heart—or its theology—to expand women’s roles is deeply troubling.
Pope Francis’ reluctance to act decisively on the ordination of women as deacons, despite the arguments for their indispensable contributions, illustrates a broader issue at play: resistance to change. By stating that “the moment is not ripe,” he perpetuates a cycle of indecision. What does “ripeness” look like? Will there ever be a time when the Church is ready to accept that women, just like men, possess a spiritual calling worthy of recognition and leadership? This line of reasoning feels like a euphemism for inaction, a way to avoid confronting deeply entrenched patriarchal structures.
The very framework of the Church seems hesitant to acknowledge that the world is changing and that women’s contributions are critical not just in support roles but as leaders. This refusal to empower women equitably sends a resounding message: that the Church, while speaking of listening to its followers, is still operating from a model that prioritizes male authority above all else. It feels as though every call for reform is met with a hedge, creating a façade of progress while the core issues remain untouched. Why is there such a blatant avoidance of accountability for women’s roles and rights?
I often wonder why so many are still connected to an institution that exudes resistance to change. With the Church’s diminishing relevance in modern society, the answer may lie in the misalignment between its teachings and the lived realities of its followers. The further the Church drifts from equitable practices, the faster it erodes its community’s faith. I see friends and family leave the Church because they recognize its systemic failures when it comes to equality—especially for women. Their departure is emblematic of a broader trend that the Church has yet to grasp, indicating a disconnect that feels insurmountable at times.
Witnessing the commitment and dedication from women within the Church community, the lack of acknowledgment from leadership is downright baffling. Women perform essential functions—teaching, caregiving, and spiritually nourishing the next generation—yet still remain constrained by roles defined by old doctrines. I can’t help but feel a sense of anger and heartbreak over this sidelining. As a mother, I want my child to be part of a community that values all contributions equally; instead, we face the reality of an institution that remains rooted in antiquated power structures.
The continued neglect of women’s equity in the Church resonates deeply as a failed opportunity for true revolution, and it compels me to reconsider my relationship with this institution. I strive to instill the values of inclusion and respect in my family while navigating the frustrations of a system that historically oppresses women. It’s troubling to witness an organization I care about flirting with reform while steadfastly holding onto practices that diminish the role of women. The Church needs voices that persuade it to open its doors wider, recognizing that equity is not just an ideal but a necessity for survival in today’s world.
Change can be painful; it often elicits fear and resistance. However, this reform process feels like a gentle nudge rather than a groundbreaking push, and that’s hardly the transformational change our Church desperately needs. There’s a sense of urgency that the Church must embrace if it hopes to remain relevant in an era where women demand equal rights and opportunities. There’s a disheartening finality to what we’ve witnessed in these discussions; without meaningful change, the Church risks further alienating those who have invested their lives in its mission. As I navigate my beliefs and hopes for the future, the need for substantial reform—one that honors and uplifts women—is more crucial than ever. The call for equity and recognition should not just echo within our hearts, but reverberate through the very foundations of the Church itself.