The Ordination of Li Tim-Oi.pdf

Sermon: The Ordination of Li Tim-Oi First Woman Priest in the Anglican Communion, 1944 by Amy Bentley Lamborn Today commemorate Li Tim-Oi as the first woman ordained priest in the Anglican Communion. Li Tim-Oi was ordained a priest on January 24, 1944 in the Diocese of Hong Kong by Bishop Ronald Hall. And it is January 24th that the Episcopal Church has officially designated for her commemoration. Today, February 26, is the anniversary of Li Tim Oi’s death in 1992. Perhaps it is her personal connection to General Seminary that prompts us to commemorate Li Tim-Oi today. GTS awarded her an honorary doctorate of divinity in 1987. And in 2005, the graduating class gave as its gift to the seminary this icon of Li Tim-Oi, which usually hangs just behind this pulpit. I have looked at our icon of Li Tim-Oi many, many times, usually as I have made my way to receive communion. By saying this, that I have looked at this icon, I am making a statement not so much about what I have done, as what I have not done. I have not gazed upon this icon in the manner of prayer. I have never looked through it in such a way that I might glimpse something of myself transformed, or in such a way that I might participate in the Holy Spirit’s renewal of the world in a manner that is consonant with Li Tim-Oi’s life and witness. But after learning something about the rather complex truth of Li Tim-Oi’s story, I think I am much more prepared to participate in such a transformative gaze. If you are like me and have only looked at this icon, perhaps you will be more prepared to gaze prayerfully on it, too. Here is a bit of the official story of Li Tim-Oi, much as we might find it in Holy Women, Holy Men. Named by her father “much beloved daughter,” Li Tim-Oi was born in Hong Kong in 1907. When she was baptized as a student, she chose the name Florence in honor of Florence Nightingale, whom she greatly admired. After sensing a call to ministry in the Church, Florence studied theology at Union Theological College in Canton. Upon her graduation, she first served the Church as a lay leader and pastor. And in 1941 she was ordained a deaconess. When Hong Kong fell to Japanese invaders some months later, and priests could not travel to celebrate the Eucharist, Bishop Hall, who had learned of Florence’s ministry—including her ability to back and forth through occupied territory—decided to ordain her a priest. After World War II ended, Florence Li Tim-Oi’s ordination became highly controversial. Bishop Hall was sharply criticized for not waiting on the Church to come to unity about women’s ordination. So Florence made the personal decision to surrender her license as a priest until the larger Anglican Communion was willing to acknowledge her ordination. Li Tim-Oi continued to find ways to serve the Church without engaging in priestly activity. But all that came to an end during the Cultural Revolution in China, when all the churches were closed. Li Tim-Oi was forced to work on a farm and, 1 later, in a factory. She was suspected of engaging in counter-revolutionary activity, so she was required to undergo political re-education. In 1974 she was finally allowed to retire from factory work. Eventually, she was permitted to emigrate to Canada where several of her family members lived. To her great joy, she was licensed as a priest in the Diocese of Montreal, and later in the Diocese of Toronto, where she lived until her death in 1992. There is a problem with this more or less “official” story of Li Tim-Oi. You see, this story leaves out some of the more challenging details and facts of her life—details and facts that give us a more honest and complicated picture. For example, Li Tim-Oi did not so willingly surrender her priestly license by way of some sort of “personal decision.” She was forced to give it up due to the coercive pressure exerted by the Church’s leadership. During her forced labor on the farm and in the factory, Li Tim-Oi became so depressed and demoralized that she considered committing suicide. As an exercise of her political re-education, which is, of course, a euphemism for brainwashing, she was given a pair of scissors and forced to cut her priestly vestments to shreds. Li Tim-Oi was repeatedly shamed and humiliated. And she was prevented from living out her vocation as a priest for more than 30 years. The Rev. Mark Harris, a priest and blogger/commentator who has clearly looked through—not just at—Li Tim-Oi’s life writes: “We must remember her as a woman whose vocation and ministry were severely curtailed and dismissed by the (Anglican) Communion, held in scorn by her government and unrecognized as a priest until the first flood of ordinations of women to the priesthood.” Considering Li Tim-Oi’s story in the larger history of the ordination of women, Harris adds: “The real lesson derived from the story of the ordination of women is that when unity and fellowship become the first priority of the Church the result is endless postponement of decision-making and the inequitable treatment of those most closely involved in the issue.” Looking even more broadly, and considering so many of our issues involving the lack of justice and integrity, I think we can say it this way: The Church in its various structures and bodies has repeatedly engaged in this kind of endless postponement of decision-making more often than not as a way of preserving the status quo, of giving the appearance or felt sense of hanging together, or carefully guarding of the privilege of a few. Meanwhile the people most closely and intimately involved are made to suffer—and sometimes to suffer mightily. Earlier, we prayed for the Spirit to inspire us to follow Li Tim-Oi’s example— “serving (God’s) people with patience and happiness all our days, and witnessing in every circumstance to our Savior Jesus Christ.” It is a lovely Collect, like so many of our Collects and prayers. But it seems to me that it is a prayer that more associated with looking at Li Tim-Oi’s life, from a bit of a distance, than with a closer looking through. Today, I feel led towards something a bit bolder. Now, when I consider the prospect of gazing at this icon in the manner of prayer, I imagine glimpsing something of the heartache of God—a God who suffers with all of those whose vocation and ministry is dismissed or curtailed. A God who weeps alongside those 2 whose witness to the truth goes unrecognized or scorned, and who labor under oppressive forces and hostile circumstances. And I imagine catching a vision, too, of God’s slow work of transformation and liberation—a work that might well span decades, persisting through shifting circumstances and massive relocations and uprootings. This slow and steady work of transformation and liberation, summons our participation as tellers and hearers of bigger stories— stories made larger by their honest complexity, by a commitment to the truth. A truth that, alone, will set us free. That, I believe, is what it means to witness in every circumstance to our Savior Jesus Christ, who—for Florence Li Tim-Oi and for us—is always and eternally the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 3