Was This Trip Necessary?

By Richard N. Ostling

The Synod of Bishops is potentially among the most useful reforms of the Second Vatican Council. Every two or three years a select group of Roman Catholic bishops from around the world gathers to advise the Pope. But as the latest synod closed in Rome last week, Archbishop John May of St. Louis, president of the U.S. bishops' conference, cautioned that unless such meetings "produce something rather significant," Catholics will begin to question the "expenditure of people, time and effort."

Those disquieting questions linger after the 1987 synod, which was summoned to discuss the role of the laity. The month-long conference of 232 bishops from 92 countries, joined by 51 official lay observers, produced no significant accomplishments and few concrete recommendations. The emptiness was apparent both in the synod's platitudinous message to the church at large, and in the secret "propositions" sent to the Pope, the Latin text of which was obtained by news organizations.

During the first days in the Vatican's modern, tiered synod hall, the status of women emerged as a pressing topic. It was addressed in speeches by no fewer than 32 participants, much to the delight of the U.S. delegation, which had made the issue a priority. Not everyone was so pleased. When Ireland's Tomas Cardinal O Fiaich stated that the women's issue is "no longer an American aberration," another bishop was heard to grumble, "Yeah, it's now a worldwide aberration."

Such traditionalists went to work after the synod broke into small discussion groups. Caution was urged by Third World bishops as well as by lay advisers, whose selection had been screened by the Vatican. A first draft of the propositions for the Pope stated that women should be admitted to all nonordained ministries. That would include authorizing altar girls (common at Masses in the U.S., despite Vatican disapproval). The draft also urged a study of allowing women to become deacons. After some behind-the-scenes lobbying, the final version mentioned none of those points. Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee, a U.S. spokesman on the issue, was reduced to expressing "happiness at the vagueness of the final statement," apparently suggesting that a more forthright document could have been worse. "The synod," he said, "was not ready to work out the differences between men and women, their specific tasks, and implementation according to local culture." The synod did insist upon the "dignity of women," but this was nothing more than Pope John Paul has already said on numerous occasions.

The rush to vagueness characterized the treatment of other issues: ways to incorporate the laity more fully into church life; whether Catholic politicians are bound to apply church teaching to society; and the role of lay activist movements, conservative and liberal. Some observers believe synod discussions have become less spontaneous, partly because of John Paul's concern that the bishops maintain a united front with him on doctrine and discipline, and partly because he sits in on most sessions. On the other hand, it may simply be that the diversity of national interests and viewpoints among the prelates makes strong policy recommendations increasingly difficult to forge.

With reporting by Daniela Simpson/Rome