The Holy Anticlimactic
By Tina Guyden, Assistant Director of the Aquinas Center
The beautiful thing about being a lifelong Catholic is that I have experienced most liturgical celebrations. From the anticipation of the baptisms of my children, the ordinations of priests and deacons, and the solemnity of the funerals of loved ones, there are not many liturgies that cause me to pause and reconsider how I am supposed to behave or feel. This was my baseline feeling when I traveled to the Diocese of Jackson, Mississippi, for the Mass of Thanksgiving and the Closing Session of the Diocesan Phase of Servant of God Sister Thea Bowman on Monday, February 9th. Sister Thea is my self-professed patron saint of fraternal correction, based in no small part on her address to the United States Bishops in 1989. Her grace, joy, and theological eloquence while withstanding the effects of terminal bone cancer was a master class in calling the bishops to task for the ways that they were not ministering to the African American members of the body of Christ, including some of their African American brothers.
Upon first entering the Cathedral of Saint Peter the Apostle, I was greeted by some familiar sights. There was the usual scurrying of bodies preparing for a special service with important guests and visitors. There are reserved signs on certain pews, and those of us who have arrived early are discerning the best spot to sit and witness the ceremony. There are whispered conversations about our connections to Sister Thea, how far did we travel to be there for this unique moment in time. It was a normal “special” until I looked at the altar.
Sitting in front of the ambo was a poster with Sister Thea’s face on it, the same portrait that was on the prayer cards being passed out to those entering the sanctuary. There were several cream-colored file boxes tied with crimson ribbon sitting at the foot of the altar on crimson fabric. It reminded me of a funeral in some ways in that all the movement in that liturgy is focused near the altar. Unlike a funeral, there was no body or vessel with cremains, no Paschal Candle, thurible for incense, or an aspergillum (sprinkler) and aspersorium (bucket). There were just the neatly stacked boxes which encompassed Sister Thea’s life and work that were the silent witness to all that was to come.
The Mass itself was beautiful and had bishops, priests, deacons, and seminarians. There were Catholic school children in uniforms, and three women served as acolytes. There were members of Sister Thea’s order, the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration. The choir’s voices filled the space with the accompaniment of the organ. Besides the presence of photographers capturing all the moments, it was an ordinary liturgical celebration. Not to be disrespectful, but there was a sense that worship was not the main event but was more of a prelude to why we were all gathered in a cathedral on a Monday afternoon in a state where Catholicism is still not fully understood.
While waiting for the closing session to begin, it still was not clear what to expect. Would there be participation by the clergy? Would there be a part for the congregation to do? Being part of the canonization process is not something I expected to experience. Frankly, I am overstating my participation in this. The Diocese of Jackson began this process in 2018, and as evidenced by the stack of boxes on the altar and what I have learned about canonization, it is both active and spiritual. There is also the reality that there is still more that needs to happen for Sister Thea to no longer be “Servant of God” and be declared “Venerable.”
There are three steps to sainthood, and Sister Thea is currently known as “Servant of God”, meaning that she is “a candidate for sainthood whose cause is still under investigation” (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops n.d.). After the Vatican’s Dicastery for the Causes of Saints reviews all the documents submitted by the Diocese of Jackson and determines that she lived a life of heroic virtues, Sister Thea will then be declared “Venerable.” If one miracle can be attributed to her intercession, she will then be “Blessed” and “accorded limited liturgical veneration” (ibid.). She will be declared a “Saint” if a second miracle is attributed to her intercession. The process of canonization is a lengthy and expensive one, and there is no true timetable for how long it will be before the Vatican responds to the diocese’s submission.
The closing session was a public witness to the signing and sealing of the final documents to be added to the final two boxes. The bishop of the diocese, the Most Reverend Joseph Kopacz, Dottore Emanuele Spedicato, JCD, the postulator (person appointed to guide and oversee the cause at the diocesan level), and the diocesan’s Tribunal notary, Ms. Fabvienen Clara Taylor, each signed documents to assert that all the documents contained within the boxes that have been silent witnesses to the activity were true and accurate. After the final boxes were closed, another person, the Tribunal’s copyist, Ms. Karen Brown, tied crimson ribbon around the boxes, and the bishop used a wax seal to officially close the final two boxes.
So why was this both holy and anticlimactic? Even with no real expectations of what was to happen, given the importance of the moment, and all the people who made it to a cathedral in the capital of Mississippi on a Monday afternoon, it was like a formal close of a meeting. In other celebrations that happen in a church, there is incense or holy water or both. There is a procession of the person or persons being recognized, and the boxes were there when the liturgy started and, besides bringing the last two boxes forward, never moved. There was music, and one of the choir members led us in an impromptu singing of “This Little Light of Mine” after the boxes were closed, but there was even a sense of detachment with that as she was up in the choir loft, away from the area of primary focus. It was a formal end to a process that had to have stirred up so much for those who examined Sister Thea’s life, work, and impact on others. It was a staid celebration for those who made the journey to bear witness to the moment. It was also wonderfully Catholic in that the pomp and circumstance left space for personal reflection on what could not be expressed in what was a legal proceeding. For those who worked with her, were taught by her, or only know her from videos or stories, this was the recognition that Servant of God Mary Thea Bowman, FSPA, richly deserved.
The beautiful thing about being a lifelong Catholic is that I have experienced most liturgical celebrations. From the anticipation of the baptisms of my children, the ordinations of priests and deacons, and the solemnity of the funerals of loved ones, there are not many liturgies that cause me to pause and reconsider how I am supposed to behave or feel. This was my baseline feeling when I traveled to the Diocese of Jackson, Mississippi, for the Mass of Thanksgiving and the Closing Session of the Diocesan Phase of Servant of God Sister Thea Bowman on Monday, February 9th. Sister Thea is my self-professed patron saint of fraternal correction, based in no small part on her address to the United States Bishops in 1989. Her grace, joy, and theological eloquence while withstanding the effects of terminal bone cancer was a master class in calling the bishops to task for the ways that they were not ministering to the African American members of the body of Christ, including some of their African American brothers.
Upon first entering the Cathedral of Saint Peter the Apostle, I was greeted by some familiar sights. There was the usual scurrying of bodies preparing for a special service with important guests and visitors. There are reserved signs on certain pews, and those of us who have arrived early are discerning the best spot to sit and witness the ceremony. There are whispered conversations about our connections to Sister Thea, how far did we travel to be there for this unique moment in time. It was a normal “special” until I looked at the altar.
Sitting in front of the ambo was a poster with Sister Thea’s face on it, the same portrait that was on the prayer cards being passed out to those entering the sanctuary. There were several cream-colored file boxes tied with crimson ribbon sitting at the foot of the altar on crimson fabric. It reminded me of a funeral in some ways in that all the movement in that liturgy is focused near the altar. Unlike a funeral, there was no body or vessel with cremains, no Paschal Candle, thurible for incense, or an aspergillum (sprinkler) and aspersorium (bucket). There were just the neatly stacked boxes which encompassed Sister Thea’s life and work that were the silent witness to all that was to come.
The Mass itself was beautiful and had bishops, priests, deacons, and seminarians. There were Catholic school children in uniforms, and three women served as acolytes. There were members of Sister Thea’s order, the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration. The choir’s voices filled the space with the accompaniment of the organ. Besides the presence of photographers capturing all the moments, it was an ordinary liturgical celebration. Not to be disrespectful, but there was a sense that worship was not the main event but was more of a prelude to why we were all gathered in a cathedral on a Monday afternoon in a state where Catholicism is still not fully understood.
While waiting for the closing session to begin, it still was not clear what to expect. Would there be participation by the clergy? Would there be a part for the congregation to do? Being part of the canonization process is not something I expected to experience. Frankly, I am overstating my participation in this. The Diocese of Jackson began this process in 2018, and as evidenced by the stack of boxes on the altar and what I have learned about canonization, it is both active and spiritual. There is also the reality that there is still more that needs to happen for Sister Thea to no longer be “Servant of God” and be declared “Venerable.”
There are three steps to sainthood, and Sister Thea is currently known as “Servant of God”, meaning that she is “a candidate for sainthood whose cause is still under investigation” (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops n.d.). After the Vatican’s Dicastery for the Causes of Saints reviews all the documents submitted by the Diocese of Jackson and determines that she lived a life of heroic virtues, Sister Thea will then be declared “Venerable.” If one miracle can be attributed to her intercession, she will then be “Blessed” and “accorded limited liturgical veneration” (ibid.). She will be declared a “Saint” if a second miracle is attributed to her intercession. The process of canonization is a lengthy and expensive one, and there is no true timetable for how long it will be before the Vatican responds to the diocese’s submission.
The closing session was a public witness to the signing and sealing of the final documents to be added to the final two boxes. The bishop of the diocese, the Most Reverend Joseph Kopacz, Dottore Emanuele Spedicato, JCD, the postulator (person appointed to guide and oversee the cause at the diocesan level), and the diocesan’s Tribunal notary, Ms. Fabvienen Clara Taylor, each signed documents to assert that all the documents contained within the boxes that have been silent witnesses to the activity were true and accurate. After the final boxes were closed, another person, the Tribunal’s copyist, Ms. Karen Brown, tied crimson ribbon around the boxes, and the bishop used a wax seal to officially close the final two boxes.
So why was this both holy and anticlimactic? Even with no real expectations of what was to happen, given the importance of the moment, and all the people who made it to a cathedral in the capital of Mississippi on a Monday afternoon, it was like a formal close of a meeting. In other celebrations that happen in a church, there is incense or holy water or both. There is a procession of the person or persons being recognized, and the boxes were there when the liturgy started and, besides bringing the last two boxes forward, never moved. There was music, and one of the choir members led us in an impromptu singing of “This Little Light of Mine” after the boxes were closed, but there was even a sense of detachment with that as she was up in the choir loft, away from the area of primary focus. It was a formal end to a process that had to have stirred up so much for those who examined Sister Thea’s life, work, and impact on others. It was a staid celebration for those who made the journey to bear witness to the moment. It was also wonderfully Catholic in that the pomp and circumstance left space for personal reflection on what could not be expressed in what was a legal proceeding. For those who worked with her, were taught by her, or only know her from videos or stories, this was the recognition that Servant of God Mary Thea Bowman, FSPA, richly deserved.
