Last month’s consistory in Rome, in which John Paul II elevated forty-four men to the College of Cardinals, received a good deal of media coverage, especially in New York and Washington, D.C. That’s not surprising, since the archbishops of both cities, Edward Egan and Theodore McCarrick, were among those "getting the red hat," as was Fordham University theologian Avery Dulles, S.J. Local TV news in New York couldn’t seem to get enough of all the arcane Roman "pageantry." Egan’s every move was covered, from the moment he left the city to a press conference upon his return. Newspaper stories and TV and radio commentators went on endlessly about the "biretta," the "zucchetto," the "mozzettas," the gold ring, the red carpet, the pope’s shimmering robes and white velvet throne. February can be a slow news month, and Roman pomp and circumstance is still an eye-catching version of pomp and circumstance. It is also an easy story to cover. The pictures from Saint Peter’s Square on an unusually warm and bright day were sharp and colorful, the rows of scarlet-robed prelates encircling the pope’s chair a strong visual sign of Catholic solidarity and order.
Up to a point, that is.
There’s a place for pageantry and for grand ecclesiastical ritual. Honoring bishops and priests in great formal ceremonies is one way the church expresses its deepest understanding of itself. Gold rings and elaborate garments have long accompanied the people of God on their pilgrim journey. In what some of his disciples thought a scandalous extravagance, even Jesus allowed himself to be anointed with precious oil. Still, it is difficult not to feel some discomfort over the carefully made-up face the church presents to the world on such occasions. Cardinal Egan made a point of saying that it was the New York archdiocese, not he, that was being honored. But that doesn’t quite get at the unique power and status cardinals possess or the way in which they are chosen. Egan is still finding his way in New York, and must act in the late Cardinal John O’Connor’s considerable shadow. That said, the new cardinal has yet to convey much warmth or pastoral vision, let alone Christian mirth. Perhaps that is the result of his deep suspicion—often warranted—of the media. Whatever the reason, his public persona seems guarded and calculating and his repeated protestations of humility usually fall flat. If it was the archdiocese that was being honored, for example, the cardinal probably shouldn’t have stayed, albeit as a guest of the hotel’s chairman, at the Crowne Plaza Rome–Minerva, and his entourage could have done without those well-known evangelists and countercultural figures General Electric president Jack Welch and NBC head Robert Wright.
With his sly wit, Avery Dulles made a more elfin impression—especially when his biretta fell off his head into the pope’s lap. No one could begrudge Dulles his red hat. As Joseph Komonchak rightly noted in these pages ("All Dressed in Scarlet," February 23), Dulles’s theological work has been a beacon of lucidity in a field increasingly burdened by jargon-ridden academic writing. A deep love for and devotion to the church are evident in everything he writes. Still, it is hard to suppress the suspicion that Dulles’s more recent efforts defending disputed papal teachings rather than his broader achievements figured uppermost in the Vatican’s decision making. That suspicion would be easier to dismiss if similar regard were shown for theologians of equal stature who have respectfully taken issue with the pope’s views. The late Richard McCormick, S.J., and Gustavo Gutiérrez come to mind as men whose lifetime of service to the church cannot be second-guessed, yet whose work has not always toed the magisterium’s line. A truly confident church would distribute red hats across a wider ideological spectrum.
Finally, one aspect of the pageantry in Rome was even more conspicuous than the color red. Doubtless those made cardinals are persons of talent and great loyalty to the church. They are also all, without exception, men. No matter how good a show the Vatican puts on, it remains an all-male show.
How long will it take before Rome recognizes how anachronistic and unnecessary this part of the tradition is? How long will the church reserve its most public honors and all juridical authority for men only? Even should the priesthood remain closed to women, there is no possible theological or moral excuse for denying women a position of authority in the official structure of the church (see Mary Douglas, "A Modest Proposal," June 14, 1996). Please spare us the solemn talk about the profound symbolism of the cardinal’s office as long as the symbolic and implied rebuke to women remains so central an aspect of these events. If there is a place for great ecclesiastical rituals—a place for scarlet robes and gold rings and extravagant gestures of fealty that tell the world what it means to be Catholic—it is a scandal to the faithful that such rituals exclude women.
But congratulations, anyway, boys.
