University students, faculty, and staff meet for conversation and prayer with synod delegates in the aula of the global headquarters for the Society of Jesus. (Photo by Jeremy Cruz)
Inspired and full of gratitude, I returned from a week of discussion, learning, and prayer in Rome last week. I was there with CENTERS to participate in the final session of the Catholic Church’s three-year synod process, and to form new leadership for “a listening church.” A large leadership team, led by Dr. Maureen O’Connell and with generous support from Discerning Deacons, organized some 120+ students, faculty, and staff (of various religious backgrounds) from 14 Catholic universities in the U.S.A.
I had participated in earlier stages of the synod, in more abbreviated and distant ways. However, I gained valuable insights about synodality from being present in Rome in conversation with synod delegates, and even physically present where synod sessions were conducted. As a Catholic ethicist, engaged in the Church’s ongoing discernment about how to faithfully respond to the signs of our times, I want to affirm the value of “becoming a synodal church” and to express gratitude for countless people around the world who invested themselves in this process of deep listening and reflection. I also want to respectfully push back on a harmful narrative about this particular synod, and about synods in general.
To be clear, synods of bishops, which are processes of organized and prolonged listening, do not belong to any one theological or ideological agenda. Every convened synod invites additional (non-bishop) participants who are asked to contribute in various ways, and all participants (including bishops) show up with their varying ideas and commitments. Yet synodality is fundamentally a practice of committed and prolonged mutual communication between people. As a form of social communication, a synod is not like a transactional market exchange—think speaking at a store counter or when drafting a contract. Moreover, it is unlike a deliberative democratic procedure—think politicians debating a bill or voting to determine the fate of a piece of legislation. Given these differences, anyone expecting an immediate desired “outcome” from a synod, beyond the value of communication itself, will likely be disappointed.
This was not an easy lesson for me, as someone who has supported and accompanied Discerning Deacons in their focus on more expansive governance opportunities and access to positions of leadership for women in the Catholic Church. The need to cultivate equitable and inclusive leadership, and how best to respond to the subjugation of women leaders, were among several urgent topics to emerge across the world throughout this three-year global synod. Deliberation and decisions regarding inclusion of women into the diaconate were among those left open for further consideration but deferred to groups of church leaders for further study.
Despite the disappointment that accompanied this “justice deferred,” the type of communication that synods can sustain bring many benefits that are missing in transactional market relationships and in the decision-making procedures of modern democracies. Further, every leader in the Catholic Church (bishop or otherwise), regardless of their ideas and agendas, can benefit from listening deeply to their fellow church members, church leaders, and to invited non-Catholic conversation partners. A time always comes for ecclesially-informed and Spirit-led decision-making, by all of God’s people.
However, over the past couple years, I have repeatedly seen Catholic opponents of Pope Francis dismissively claim that this synod is nothing more than warmed over “conciliarism from the 1960s.” They did not want this synod. Some claimed that the synod resurrected an allegedly outdated vision of church and form of church governance–conciliarism. The synod showed that this argument was not only misleading but also had the effects of discouraging participation and delegitimizing the synod’s reports about what church members worldwide are saying. This falsehood was corrosive, and seemed to exhibit fears of conversation and deep listening itself.
For those not familiar, conciliarism is the view that a world council of bishops has greater authority than the Bishop of Rome. This view makes at least some sense if we consider that there were once three men claiming to be the legitimate pope and that it took a council of bishops to decide which one was legitimate. Similarly, conciliarism can include the view that a regional council of bishops has authority that can override a single bishop of that council’s region.
Though this was not a decision of the synod, some opponents of Francisco have considered him too collaborative in his leadership style and continue to fear that he is advancing more conciliar structures of church governance. They fear that Francisco represents a “weakening” of the papacy and “weakening” of individual bishops in their respective territories. These opponents often disagree with some of Francisco’s decisions, his communication style, or with who he listens to. For example, some do not like when Francis repents for the sins of the Church, when he focuses his public discipleship on global humanitarian crises, or when he affirms (albeit inconsistently) the basic dignity of gay and transgender people. Yet more importantly, Francisco’s opponents fear that he is forming more collaborative and decentralized decision-making structures in the Church. These opponents can deal with his perceived “bad decisions,” but what they fear more is the possibility that the next pope might not be able to simply wipe away Francisco’s “errors” with the stroke of a pen. They want to maintain a supreme authority who fosters uniformity by keeping bishops in line; they want a Pontifex Maximus. For them, a “universal” church should often be a more uniform church, according to the standards inherited and advanced by the Bishop of Rome. Similarly, they want bishops who govern in this manner, as “branch managers” for their respective territorial regions.
Important debates about authority began and have continued since the earliest years of the Christian churches. Some of us are more conciliar in our vision of church structure and authority, and recognize significant ethical issues therein (such as how sexual abuse is addressed in the Church). Others believe that individual bishops should have ultimate authority over their “flocks” within their respective territories (like shepherds or branch managers), and want a Bishop of Rome who presides with supremacy over all other bishops. Still others (like evangelical Christians) view the church in more autonomous ways–like independent “mom and pop shops” (usually with “pop” as the shop’s manager-pastor). Further, within these models, some claim that bishops and local pastors should be appointed by bishops whereas others affirm more popular democratic selection of church leaders. These debates are very important, but they should not be used to distort and diminish the very practice of inclusive, deep, sustained, and regular listening within the church worldwide. Listening should be a priority in all churches, regardless of a church’s structures of decision-making and accountability.
In Rome, I heard from several individual bishops. Some who are cardinals who will elect the next Bishop of Rome, and some archbishops who lead major metropolitan areas. They gave testimony to the power of synodal listening, and expressed that it has changed how they imagine doing ministry going forward. For better or worse, they never spoke of conciliarism or sounded like conciliarists. They mostly sounded like bishops imagining their governance and ministry responsibilities within their respective dioceses. Some gave testimony to their initial skepticism about what this synod would accomplish, but bore witness to its transformative moments and to how it has changed them personally. They clearly recognized the value of synodality, even within patriarchal, tremendously unequal, and territorially-segmented hierarchies of church governance.
Ultimately, we listen (with all senses) because we’re human–and in our tradition we understand humans to be “hearers” and “receivers” of sacred speech and action from our Creator. The practice of effective Christian listening does not belong to any single agenda or governance structure. Deep and sustained listening is about being fully human, in community. We listen for Spirit moving once again, near or far, in this world. We listen to testimonies of what The Holy One has done for and with those who come before us, and discern together what we are being called to do. And we go forth to do that loving work, while keeping our ears to the ground. We are created from earth, for friendship and freedom here…and to this earth we shall return. Let us make the most of our fleeting days above ground with one another.