Little By Little

Recently I became a vegetarian. Big deal, you might think, especially if you have been vegetarian or vegan for a long time or all of your life. Oh no, you might think, not one of those people especially if you’ve been a lifetime devotee of the ‘food chain’ justification of meat-eating or just continued enjoyment of a big juicy summertime hamburger.

You might also be thinking: What on earth – or heaven – does this have to do with women’s ordination, ministry, and leadership in the Church?

The connection I see is injustice, a huge concept that demands a huge response – little by little.

Little by little? That’s a rallying cry for fighting injustice that sounds more like a moan and groan. You just have to keep chipping away at it little by little? How inspiring is that?  Not much. What is inspiring, however, believe it or not, is doing the actual chipping, faithfully puncturing and piercing the problem, tearing off small chunks, filing it down, crumbling it bit by bit, day after day, alone or with others, and, maybe accomplishing ultimately – through the small – the magnificent.

Obviously by that last sentence you can see I am seduced by the lofty ideal. But I recognize at least two problems with attaining it: In the first place, I need to recognize it as an ideal and a lofty one at that, and, second, I needed not to let its very magnitude defeat my even starting the tough work of getting there.

In considering a vegetarian lifestyle, for example, I had first to recognize and embrace a lofty ideal: environmental justice. I awoke through seminars, appeals from environmental causes, recycling demands, media exposes, Al Gore, and I recycled, marched, wrote letters, signed petitions, voted, and certainly voiced my opinion to anyone who would listen. All of that was enlightening and did some chipping away but was relatively easy, a remote kind of pat-yourself-on-the-back kind of participation. Oh, I had certainly heard in all these forays the facts about how meat-eating, and all that goes into producing the meat, has a major negative effect on the environment. I had also, I’m ashamed to say, been made aware of the horrendous way animals raised for consumption are treated, tortured, terrified, then brutally slaughtered. And, like you, I had seen the faces and bodies of starving people who might have had enough to eat if we were not eating animals who fed on grains on lands which could have grown grains for them.

Simplistically put maybe, but there it was: absolutely monstrous injustice staring at me, one who professes belief in the sacredness of all that is created. I knew I had to take a personal chip away at that monster every day if I had any hope of tackling the other monstrous injustices around me. I had to stop eating meat, and, forgive me, I had to tell you who might be reading this that I had stopped in hopes that you might stop, too. That last part of chipping away is definitely the most uncomfortable.

With Laudato Si’ the Pope is ahead of me and is actually one of my guides in tackling environmental degradation. (I don’t know if he eats meat; I hope not. Probably he at least doesn’t on Fridays?) In tackling another lofty ideal, the establishment of justice and equality for all genders in leadership and ministry in a huge, influential, powerful institution affecting people worldwide, however, he is, so far, way behind.

I’m not sure what I can do for gender justice in our Church and in all institutions that equals the personal commitment of not eating meat (which is not as feel-good an act as protesting, writing, and praying). But I can keep on looking and keep on chipping in the meantime. We all can.