Last year I experienced firsthand the hospitality of the Catholic Church in its incredible country of origin. During my holiday in Italy I stayed at two convents: one in the south, halfway up a mountain overlooking the coastal town of Sorrento; the other, right in the centre of Rome, a stone's throw from the Colosseum.
At both I was warmly welcomed, fed free breakfasts, and communicated with using whatever English the sweet, serene nuns could muster. Any problems I had were addressed with a true willingness to serve. The times I managed to communicate my gluten-free requirement (an interesting challenge in a country synonymous with pizza and pasta) they went to whatever lengths necessary to provide for me.
I mention this to demonstrate that although I am not a Catholic, I don't easily write off the positives of the Catholic Church. After all, a worldwide membership of over one billion undeniably represents a broad cross-section of good people.
And when Pope Francis was first elected a year ago, I was excited. Like a lot of people, I felt change in the air. Here was a Pope who seemed to have a real focus on alleviating poverty, and who cared more about speaking out in love rather than toeing the line in fear. A Pope who did not too easily alienate the LGBT community or people of other faiths, or use his platform to push contentious arguments about the use of condoms and AIDS.
My Christian friends became enamoured with the man, and my Facebook feed filled with Pope-pushing platitudes and odes of love to the new leader who some christened 'the change the Church needs'. I shared their enthusiasm — at least at first.
The shine started to wear off when the Pope opened up about his position on the role of women in the Church. In a well-publicised Q&A with journalists during a flight back to Rome after World Youth Day in Rio de Janeiro, Francis stated, 'With regards to the ordination of women, the Church has spoken and says no.'
It seems the malleability he calls for on select issues doesn't apply to fundamental beliefs on gender roles.
He is quick to give a tick of approval for the increased participation of women in the Church (just not as leaders), while keeping in mind 'the irreplaceable role of women in the family'.
But, he has asked, 'How is it possible to expand an effective presence in so many areas in the public sphere, in the world of work and in the places where the most important decisions are made, and at the same time maintain a special presence in, and preferred attention for, the family?'
Well, men have managed this for centuries. Or is the male presence in the family less important than that of women, their attention to their children less valuable? Beyond the ability to lactate, are men unqualified to love, care for and attend to their children? Why can't this be their 'preferred attention' and why must it be women's?
Perhaps I am most disappointed not with Francis himself but with the general lack of response to these views. The broad support Francis receives from progressives, despite his unwillingness to even consider female ordination, demonstrates how marginalised women's issues really are in our society. He may have changed the game in terms of the Church's engagement with the poor, but this does not diminish the significance of his oppressive and outdated views on gender roles.
Consider it from another angle. Imagine a global institution of a billion members, led by an old white man the world has extolled, which unequivocally banned all non-white people from leadership. Would we overlook the obvious racism and say, 'Well, just look at all the other great things he has said. He's really come a long way'?
I grew up in the Uniting Church where women can be ordained as ministers (not only deacons but ministers of the word); serve as moderator of a synod (state body) or president of the Assembly (national body). I have no doubt that the presence of women as ministers and leaders has enriched and strengthened the Uniting Church immensely. While I have no plans to become a minister, I place a high value on having that option.
The fact that 'progressives' seem willing to overlook Francis' position on women shows how far we have to go when it comes to taking women's rights seriously. He should be commended for the compassionate leadership he has shown when it comes to the Church's engagement with the poor and powerless — but it is high time he led by example and addressed the powerlessness of women within the structures of his own Church.
Megan Graham is a Melbourne based writer, journalist and occasional blogger. She won the 2013 Margaret Dooley Award for her essay 'Slow down, you're just in time'.