People’s History: Marion Flynn

As a current undergraduate, I had never heard of Vatican II before I started working on CTA’s “People’s History of Vatican II.” But I am so grateful that, in such a short time, I have come to learn about the bright, broken promises of the Second Vatican Council, for I feel I have begun to internalize this legacy.  As a searching young Catholic, I believe these roots will take hold in my own spiritual journey.  Here I would like to reflect on an interview my colleague Kascha Sanor did with CTA elder Marion Flynn.

This audio clip begins with Marion recalling an encounter with Dorothy Day during her college graduation.  Marion then goes on to describe her call to the priesthood and how she lives out that calling despite it not being recognized by Church institutions.

Kascha: “You mentioned your parish community. Do you practice today, in the area?”

Marion: “I do.”

Kascha: “Catholic?”

Marion: “Yes. But one foot in, one foot out, always.”

After only four minutes of listening to the recording of Kascha’s interview with Marion, I paused the audio clip, took a deep breath, and let Marion’s matter-of-fact response linger in the air for a moment. “One foot in, one foot out, always.” In one brief sentence, Marion had captured a tension that I feel within myself - one that I’ve been struggling to comprehend for some years now. This tension surfaces most readily as I search for Catholic communities that align with my progressive ideals — leaving me to wonder: what is my place in this Church, and what does being Catholic mean to me? As Marion’s words settled in my mind, they began to echo in my soul. “One foot in, one foot out, always”… perhaps this is how I will come to understand my Catholic identity.

The more time I spend with CTA, the more I recognize Marion’s response as a reflection of a familiar journey for many Catholics.  We struggle to make sense of our places in the Catholic Church and hover in a liminal space – half in, half out, just as Marion described.  What is it, then, that keeps us — at least partially — here in the Catholic Church?  Marion’s answer: community and the valuable connections it brings, as well as the comforting rituals of Mass. But for Marion herself, and presumably for her generation, there’s more to the story than habits; there’s a history of hope.  A history of vibrant, unabated hope which flourished in those who came of age during Vatican II.  

Marion described what growing up during Vatican II was like for her. As I played back the recording, I got the sense that in her youth, perhaps Marion did indeed have both her feet firmly planted in the Catholic Church:

“I'm at that age where Vatican II was happening in my formative years. You would not have been able to make me believe, as a 7th or 8th grader, that I wouldn't be a priest today… After Vatican II, [the future of the Church] looked limitless. It looked like we were gonna open the door to women, which was the biggest problem. And that would open the door to so many other things…” 

Listening to Marion describe the energy surrounding Vatican II, it became clearer and clearer to me that the Spirit was truly alive in that promise of progress.  I can only imagine that it was the light of the Spirit, shining so boldly in this time, that grounded Marion in her Catholicism and fueled her determination to live out her call to the priesthood. 

However, that calling never became a reality for Marion. 

I could hear how deeply Marion felt that loss in the long pauses in her interview. I sensed that the pain and disappointment was so heavy for her because she knew it wasn’t only her loss. It  is a loss for all of God's people when the Church and the priesthood are not inclusive spaces for each of us — including women, those with families, the LGBT+ community, people of color and folks of all abilities and backgrounds. 

Perhaps this — the reality of unfulfilled promises — is why Marion now stands with one foot out of the Catholic Church. And perhaps it is exactly why she keeps one foot in — holding out for reforms that have not yet come.

Because despite the fact that we may often wonder where the Spirit of Vatican II has gone, our faith tells us that She is still with us, even if we don’t recognize Her in Church institutions. In her interview, Marion explained the beauty of alternative faith communities that the Spirit may lead us to — such as Episcopalian and Lutheran churches, synagogues, and alternative Catholic prayer spaces such as CTA.  For Marion herself, these spaces have allowed her to process her unrealized call to priesthood, in addition to providing spiritual nourishment.  At the same time, she maintains a role in her Catholic parish, where she acts as a kind of pastor to the youth that join the Catholic Church:

“I’ve got a list of seven or eight young people that I’ve been confirmation sponsors to. And I think all of them —all but one of them — are not members of the church anymore. ’Cause they get to be your age and get dissatisfied, or are called to the priesthood, or don’t want to raise their own kids in an organization that doesn’t recognize the roles of women. But I’m sort of proud of that. I mean, it’s not that I want them not to be part of the Church; I want them to find a Church that means something to them. But it’s completely okay with me that it’s not the Catholic Church. It’s completely okay. So I’m a funny Catholic that way.”

Maybe it’s paradoxical to find hope in the youth who are called into and then out of the Catholic Church. But maybe not.  Maybe we who follow the Spirit of Vatican II can be called to embody our faith in ways that cannot be contained within the Catholic Church — and to do so is not to be any less Catholic.  These youth – and all of us – are the people of God, and, like Vatican II, are bigger than Church institutions.

Even if it is paradoxical to find hope for Catholicism in those who leave the Church behind, Marion’s words have revealed the beauty in living that paradox. 

And that’s not to say that we, as progressive Catholics, can’t stay with both of our feet in the Catholic Church, either. This work of grounding ourselves in the Spirit and roots of Vatican II simply means that each of us, as people of faith, will follow that Spirit to do the work of God as we’re called. 

So maybe there is in fact more than community that keeps some of us Catholics at least partially involved in the Church.  Maybe it’s the hopes of Vatican II that we haven’t yet let go of, that we continue to pray for, fight for, and seek both within and beyond the walls of our Catholic parishes.  Maybe this is what keeps Marion – and many other Catholics – with one foot in, one foot out, always.  

 If you would like to learn more about the project or read other reflections like this one, please click here.