The puff of white smoke from the Sistine Chapel reminded me that there is still one job in the world that a woman cannot do, based on gender alone.
I woke up early on March 14 to learn, via my twitter feed, that a new Pope had been elected. I admit to having felt a little more excited than I probably ought to have for a lapsed Catholic. It was hard for me to explain this to my husband, a non-Catholic, and even to myself really. It was a very big day for the world’s Catholic community and although I am strictly weddings, funerals and midnight Mass at Christmas these days, it’s still the religion I identify with.
Shortly after I celebrated the Church’s first nod in the direction of diversity in 1000 years, following the choice of the first ever Pope from South America – from Argentina, I thought about the women who have also devoted their lives to the Church.
It caused me to reflect on a wonderful nun that I met in the lead-up to my oldest son’s Confirmation eight years ago. Sister Pauline organised the lessons and made sure the 11-year-old boys and girls understood at least something of what they were getting themselves in to. The lessons were one evening a week at a time that suited the parents who needed to be in attendance most lessons too. Some of us needed a refresher.
Sister Pauline would lock up the teaching room at the back of the Church before taking the one hour public transport trip back to the “small, basic” room she shared with another sister who had also taken a vow of poverty. It was more than a vow for Sister Pauline. She couldn’t have afforded to live more comfortably on the allowance she was on. But she didn’t complain about the life she had chosen.
By stark contrast the Parish Priest had a pleasant and civilised existence. He lived in the large home behind the Church, only a few blocks back from the water. The day of the Confirmation classes was his weekly golf day and some of the local parishioners ensured his vow of poverty didn’t have to include cheap wine.
The few times yesterday that I mentioned this classic job for the boys, I was asked: “who would want to be the Pope anyway?”
My answer was: “the women who have sacrificed their lives for the Church”. It isn’t a life that I would choose for myself, but then I think the same about politics. The point is that if just one woman chooses a career in the Catholic Church then that woman should be able to expect that she could rise to the top if she has the talent.
That’s not possible now, or in the foreseeable future, for a Catholic nun and that fact has dampened the excitement of a new and diverse Pope for me (with all due respect).
(With apologies to my Catholic mother who reads my column daily.)