Confessions of a Frustrated
Lay Minister

Reprinted with permission of the National Catholic Reporter.

I have been a minister in the Catholic Church for 26 years. And I am a laywoman, married, mother of three sons and one daughter-in-law, and soon to be a grandmother. I am called the “pastoral associate” in my parish, a title that sounds more dignified than “niche-filler,” which also would be accurate.

I arrange for the formation of ministers of the liturgy, direct choirs, process annulments, do pastoral counseling, write a weekly bulletin column, work in the wider community on ecumenical issues, teach catechumens preparing for baptism, prepare worship services, and so on. The most precious compliment I’ve ever received came from Les and Arline, an older couple who thanked me for “bringing out the talent” in others. Arline said she wished I had “gotten hold of her 20 or 30 years ago.” Les suggested 40 years ago would have been better. God love them.

The title being used more and more for people like me--and there are a lot of us--is lay ecclesial minister or LEM, not to be confused with lunar excursion module, though sometimes it feels like I’m exploring a whole new world.

There are more lay ecclesial ministers in ministry than priests or deacons. We are the fastest growing “order” in the church. As seminaries graduate one or two men a year into priestly ministry, lay folks by the dozens are in advanced degree programs in pastoral studies and taking seminars on the catechumenate, annulment law, church music, youth ministry, evangelization, social justice ministry, and so on. Without statistics at hand, it is no stretch to say that most hands-on ministry in parishes, hospitals, schools and centers for social justice is performed by lay ministers.

As prevalent and as necessary as lay ecclesial ministers have become, we still exist in a strange never-never land of canonical invisibility. One alternately feels like a pioneer and a fool who can’t get a real job.

Over the years I’ve witnessed the conflict that surrounds the identity and ministry of lay people, the issues that consume our leaders and become the topics of an untold number of meetings, debates and articles. These issues can be trivialized, but they are all symbolic of a deeper reality and, as such, they are important.

Consider the long deliberations to determine whether a little girl might carry a cross or candle in procession beside her brother.

Or there is the issue of preaching. Only the ordained may preach at the Sunday Mass. This is the case even if the ordained person does not speak the same language as the congregation, or has laryngitis, or has run out of things to say, or just doesn’t preach very well. He must preach the homily or there must be no homily at all. In other words, it would be better for the people to hear no word, than to hear it from the mouth of a non-ordained minister, regardless of education, dedication, ability or--dare we say it?--the Spirit’s work in that minister.

Preaching is important to some, but to most folks, it is Holy Communion they come for. Consider the energy expended over the years around issues of Communion: to receive kneeling or standing; on the tongue or in the hand; from the cup; from a lay minister; the minimum age of the minister; whether the minister must receive after the priest presider; whether lay ministers may purify the vessels; whether lay ministers may help apportion the consecrated elements. And if not, how a priest with no ordained help and another Mass in 30 minutes is supposed to get it all done.

Continued on page 2: My church would rather the people starve than permit me to feed them »