I was sitting in a restaurant with a friend and talking about the situation of women in the Catholic Church. At one point I said, I wondered if we will ever see women as priests and I mentioned a progressive Catholic organization of lay men and women, priests and nuns.

I said I was interested in knowing more about that group.

My friend, about 10 years older than I, shook her head and admitted she sometimes fears for the Church as the pendulum has swung so far to a conservative side.  Still, she is very devout and I am, at least, a member of a parish with no plans to leave it – albeit somewhat vocal about changes I would welcome.

Suddenly, I was accosted by a woman, wearing a small plain cross, who, unbeknownst to us,  had been listening to our conversation. On her way out of the restaurant, she slapped down a tract on the table, told me she would pray for me, and I should “Make a good Lent.”  The pamphlet she left was a description of the Stations of the Cross, the traditional Christian ritual said in Catholic and many Protestant churches during Lent. I actually like the practice.

Atop this booklet, on large yellow post-its, she had written 3 pages of a rant, likening my words to those of Satan – yes, Satan – when, in the Bible, he said to God, “I will not serve.” I was stunned into silence.  She wrote about  the men-only priests’ role and told me my words were a scandal and I should stop rebelling.  I think she has forgotten that Jesus was something of a rebel.

My friend and I were shaken, eaves-dropped on, intruded on, and I was chastised in a way that has never happened to me before. It’s taken me three weeks to even post about this episode.

Then, I recalled that when I was researching Dorothy Stang’s life in Brazil, I learned that she and a sister of hers were interrupted at a lunch spot by a rancher who came to their table and threatened Dorothy and told her to go back to the States or they “would get her.”   Strange things can happen in restaurants.

One of my wise, Catholic (man) friends said, “If you are going to take a stand you will be attacked.  Don’t let this poison you.”  Then he shook his head and said, “There is so much diversity in the Catholic Church today, I don’t know if we ever will see unity.”

It dawns on me: that was a poison pen letter.  It’s too bad that she didn’t speak to us civilly and in person.  I would have liked to say, “pull up a chair and we can try to understand each other.”  Only when two people come to the table with respect and openness can a mature discussion take place. I probably could have learned something.

Too bad I can’t write her back. She will remain a phantom to me.