Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Convocation. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Convocation. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, May 31, 2022

Convocation

Convocation (pronounced kon-vuh-key-shuhn)

(1) The act of convoking.

(2) The state of being convoked.

(3) A group of people gathered in answer to a summons; an assembly.

(4) In the Church of England, either of the synods of the provinces of Canterbury or York.

(5) In the Protestant Episcopal Church, an assembly of the clergy and part of the laity of a diocese.

(6) The area represented at such an assembly.

(7) A formal assembly at a college or university, especially for a graduation ceremony.

(8) In universities, a term used generally to describe the group (of the institution’s graduates and others) entitled to elect governing bodies such as their senate.

(9) In Indian institutions of learning, a degree-awarding ceremony.

(10) The collective noun for eagles.

(11) In historic Freemasonry, a meeting of companions of a Holy Royal Arch chapter of the Supreme Order of the Holy Royal Arch.

1350–1400: From the Middle English convocacio(u)n (assembly of persons) from the Middle French convocation from the Latin convocātiōn (stem of convocātiō).  Old French picked up convocation directly from the Latin convocationem (nominative convocatio), noun of action from past participle stem of convocare (to call together), the construct being com (together) + vocare (to call).  Vocare was derived from vox (voice).  The form exists in many modern European languages; as well as the English and French convocation, there’s convocació in Catalan, convocazione in Italian, convocação in Portuguese and convocación in Spanish.  Convocation and convoker are nouns and convoked & convoking are verbs; the common noun plural is convocations.

The Holy Royal Arch

A Masonic faction, within Freemasonry the Holy Royal Arch is described as a degree.  The origins of Royal Arch Masonry and the Holy Royal Arch are murky and it’s known only that it dates back to the mid eighteenth century although fragments of Royal Arch rituals exist in Masonic literature from the 1720s.  The first historically verified appearance of was in 1743 when a “Royal Arch” was carried in a Dublin by “two excellent Masons”.  The appearance of the arch provoked controversy and attracted the disapprobation of Dr Dassigny in his critique “A serious and impartial enquiry into the cause of the present decay of Free-masonry in the Kingdom of Ireland” (1744).

Royal Arch Masonry was the subject of a long factional battle within Freemasonry and by 1751 the factions had coalesced into two, the older body paradoxically known as the Moderns, the newer the Antients (an even then archaic spelling of ancient).  Their disputes became increasingly circular and by 1813, Antients and Moderns agreed on an act of union and formed the United Grand Lodge of England.  The compromise became possible by the creation of a protocol under which the union would recognise the Royal Arch (to placate the Antients) but create it as a separate order (to appease the Moderns).

The recognition can be seen as a pyrrhic victory for the Antients.  By 1817, the faction had faded away and, although never formerly dissolved, the membership was soon absorbed into what had previously been the grand chapter of the Moderns with all forming as a group when members attend a grand chapter convocation.  The Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or has never denied being a faction of the Freemasons.

Thursday, June 9, 2022

Tuft

Tuft (pronounced tuhft)

(1) A bunch or cluster of small, usually soft and flexible parts, as feathers or hairs, attached or fixed closely together at the base and loose at the upper ends.

(2) A cluster of short, fluffy threads, used to decorate cloth, as for a bedspread, robe, bath mat, or window curtain.

(3) A cluster of cut threads, used as a decorative finish attached to the tying or holding threads of mattresses, quilts, upholstery, etc.

(4) To furnish or decorate with a tuft or tufts; to arrange in a tuft or tufts.

(5) In the upholstery trade, to draw together (a cushion or the like) by passing a thread through at regular intervals, the depressions thus produced being usually ornamented with tufts or buttons.  Tufts are not merely decorative because they secure and strengthen mattresses, quilts, cushions etc; they act to hinder the movement of the stuffing.

(6) In botany, a small clump of trees or bushes.

(7) A gold tassel on the cap once worn by titled undergraduates at English universities, one of the more blatant class identifiers if the UK’s class system; the word tuft was also applied to those entitled to wear such as tassel and from this use evolved the slang "toff".

1350-1400: From the Middle English toft & tofte (bunch of soft and flexible things fixed at the base with the upper ends loose), an alteration of earlier tuffe (which endures in the Modern English tuff), from the Old French touffe, tuffe, toffe & tofe (tuft of hair (and source of the modern French touffe)), from the Late Latin tufa (a crest on a helmet (also found in Late Greek toupha) and probably of Germanic origin (the Old High German was zopf and the Old Norse was toppr (tuft, summit).  The earlier European forms were the Old English þūf (tuft), the Old Norse þúfa (mound), the Swedish tuva (tussock; grassy hillock), from the Proto-Germanic þūbǭ (tube) & þūbaz.  It was akin to the Latin tūber (hump, swelling) and the Ancient Greek τ́φη (tū́phē) (cattail (used to stuff beds)).  The excrescent t (as in against) was an English addition and tuft was used as a verb from the 1530s.  In some contexts, bunch, cluster, collection, cowlick, group, knot, plumage, ruff, shock, topknot & tussock can impart a similar meaning but tuft is better for its specific purpose.  Tuft & tufting are nouns & verbs, tufted is a verb & adjective, tufter is a noun, tuftier & tuftiest are adjectives, tufty is a noun & adjective and tuftily is an adverb; the noun plural is tufts.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell.

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems to have first appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.


Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Lindsay Lohan in bed with tufted bedhead.

Critics of interior design tend not to approve of padded or tufted headboards and the shinier or more pillowy the effect, the greater will be the disparagement.  Such critics probably tend to prefer a minimalist aesthetic and condemn anything which doesn’t conform as outdated, excessive or just in poor taste but that aside, there are practical reasons to avoid the padding because the material can over time collect dust, dirt, and oils, something of concern to allergy sufferers.  The designs can also provide hiding places for the dreaded bed bugs.  Still, there are some who like the “generic luxury hotel room” look and argue they’re a kind of safety feature, banging one’s head on some tufted padding a less troubling event than an impact with one of Ikea’s hard, flat surfaces.  Like any bed, there are advantages and drawbacks, some thing made more comfortable, some close to impossible.

Nobleman in full dress at Cambridge (1815) with golden tuft.

The noun toff began as mid nineteenth century lower-class London slang for "a stylish dresser, a man of the smart set".  It was an alteration of tuft, which was a mid-eighteenth century English university (Oxford & Cambridge) term for students who were members of the aristocracy, a reference to the gold ornamental tassel (or tufts) worn on the academic caps (mortarboards) of undergraduates.  Throughout the “long eighteenth century” (a historian’s term which refers for the epoch running from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 to the Congress of Vienna in 1815 (the “long nineteenth” being 1815-1914 and the “long twentieth” 1914-2001 (ie 9/11))), undergraduates at both Oxford and Cambridge were differentiated into four classes: (1) noblemen, (2) gentlemen, (3) commoner-scholars (fellow-commoners at Cambridge) & (4) servitors (sometimes known at Cambridge as sizars and at Oxford as battelers).  Each of these classes of undergraduates was entitled to a different form of dress, noblemen since 1490 (further clarified in 1576) entitled to wear silk and brocaded gowns of bright colors. Such rich materials emphasized noble status, as did the costly dyes. The gowns had flap collars, Tudor bag sleeves with gold lace decorations (akin to the black lace decorations used today on Oxford gimp gowns) and a velvet round cap with a gold tassel (or tuft) was worn.  Noblemen were technically (if misleadingly) nobiles minorum gentium and included the sons of bishops, knights and baronets and, by resolution of Convocation, could include heirs of esquires.

The right to wear the golden tuft was briefly restricted to those with fathers entitled to sit in the House of Lords while those less blue-blooded were allowed only to a plain black tassel but things gradually became less exclusive until the practice was abandoned in the late nineteenth century but the transfer of sense was inevitable: wearers of golden tufts came to be known as tufts.  Those toadies or sycophants (and there were many) who were slavish followers of the tufts were tufthunters and their antics, tufthunting, such individuals and their habits quite identifiable to this day.  By the 1850s, under the influence of the cockney accent, the word had been transformed into toff (some dictionaries of slang noting toft co-existed in the 1850s but this may have been a mishearing) which endures to refer to anyone rich and powerful although the original sense was of someone apparently well-bred.

1912 Stutz Bear Cat (1912-1934); after 1913 they would be dubbed Bearcat (left) and 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Chassis 2BD, 40/50; 1906-1926) limousine by H.A. Hamshaw (right).

One of the fastest and most admired American cars of the early era, the Stutz Bearcat assumed such a place in popular culture, it was was claimed that should anyone die (except by suicide) at the wheel of a Stutz Bearcat, they were granted an obituary in the New York Times (NYT).  Wholly apocryphal, the origin of the romantic myth is thought to be related to the Bearcat being a symbol of wealth, adventure, and daring, owned by the sort of chaps (such a lifestyle at the time was most associated with men although women adventurers were not unknown) who would likely anyway warrant an NYT obituary.  The Bear Cat's tufted leather upholstery was typical (though not universal) of the high priced automobiles of the time although already, elaborate fabrics were appearing in vehicles with enclosed passenger compartments which afforded protection from the elements.  The appointments of 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost were opulent even by the coachbuilding standards of the day (the Edwardian traditions still maintained) but the chauffeur's compartment lacked a roof (the body style really a Sedanca de Ville as were many of the early English "limousines") so was still trimmed in tufted leather.  The more sheltered passengers enjoyed carved ivory door handles, beveled glass windows, cut crystal lamps, an inlaid wood folding table, two jump seats, and door pockets, communications to the chauffeur via a tubular intercom.  The lavish upholstery in the rear was tufted, beige West-of-England cloth with embroidered silk window pulls and trim-work, including rear compartment shades and sliding divider although what usually attracts most comment is the elegant, pleated, cloth rosette headliner with its cloudlike billows.   To make journeys more pleasant, a set of leather-wrapped flasks was mounted in the right rear armrest.

1908 Hotchkiss 16-20 hp Type T Roi des Belges (King of the Belgians) Touring Car with tufted red leather (right) and 1917 Packard Twin Six Touring Car with channel tufted black leather (left).  The term “touring car” was never exactly defined and use varied between UK & US manufacturers but typically it described a large, four-door, 4-6 seat open car, supplied with a folding top and (usually optional) temporary side curtains.  The style went extinct but did fork into the phaeton (no top or side-windows) and the four-door cabriolet (or convertible) (a folding top and retractable side windows).  However, even by the 1930s, the old coachwork terms from the days of horse-drawn vehicles had come to be used with such imprecision the descriptions were sometimes little more than vaguely indicative and in the post-war years they meant whatever manufacturers at the time wanted them to mean.

In the matter of upholstery, the word “tufted” has long been synonymous with “deep buttoned” but in the early days of the automobile. Coach-builders and upholsters would offer the option of “channel tufted” trim which essentially was “tufting without the buttons” although it seems almost always to have been executed only with parallel seams (ie nothing on the diagonal).  Probably because what would now be understood as a “pleated” style was more comfortable for sitting on in a moving object, it became popular in the 1920s.  Of course, what the machinists called the “straight tuck-roll” technique was less labour intensive and used smaller quantities of materials so interiors could be trimmed at lower cost so the incentive was there to make the switch.  The revival of button-tufting in the late twentieth century was not an exercise in mere nostalgia but an expression of conspicuous consumption, the “obviously expensive” look making tufting in the big US cars something of a Veblen good.   

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency advertising.

Tufted leather upholstery was common in early automobiles, the seating often exactly the same as those used in horse-drawn carriages, houses or commercial buildings (and certainly gentlemen's clubs).  The practice faded as production volumes increased and as early as the late 1920s was coming to be restricted to only the most expensive models.  This exclusivity tended to prevail until 1972 when Oldsmobile introduced the Regency option for its full-sized Ninety-Eight (sometimes as "98") models, a package, the visual highlight of which was tufted "loose-pillow" velour upholstery (although unlike the use in furniture where the "pillows" were detachable for cleaning, in the Ninety-Eight they were fixed permanently to the seats.  Suddenly, solidly middle-class Oldsmobile (right in the middle of General Motors’ (GM) five-step (Chevrolet-Pontiac-Oldsmobile-Buick-Cadillac) hierarchy; the so-called "Slone ladder" designed to both facilitate and encourage "upward automotive mobility" conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966;  president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946)) had brought both velour and loose-pillow seating to the masses.  The velour was at the time admired by most buyers (though derided by some critics of design) and as tufted upholstery began to proliferate in the industry it was usually offered as a cheaper alternative to leather.  In some climates the velour was probably the better choice and was welcomingly comfortable although in some of the more strident shades of red could recall the popular idea of how a bordello might be furnished.  Presumably, those who'd never enjoyed a visit to a bordello were more disconcerted than regular customers.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “rich Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos, reminding people cars sometimes crash.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.

1977 Chrysler (Australia) Valiant Regal SE.

In the era, Chrysler's Australian outpost did cut a few corners when implementing the “pillowed look”, economies achieved by (1) using fewer buttons for the tufting of the fabric or optional leather and (2) attaching the tufted “feature sections” directly to the cushion squab rather than creating an emulated “pillowed” look which appeared to sit atop the structure.  Even by the time of the release of the CL range (1976-1978) the feeling was the writing was on the wall for the once popular Australian Valiant (1962-1981) and the top-of-the-line Regal SE was created in the time-honored Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the less Regal’s options as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, equipped either with the lusty locally-developed 265 cubic inch (4.3 litre) straight-6 or the imported 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8.  Built on the US A-body platform, when production ended in 1981 it had lasted a half-decade longer than the Plymouth and Dodge versions sold in the home market and only in Mexico would use continue until 1988.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Oldsmobile's move was as audacious and influential as Ford’s introduction in 1965 of the up-market LTD which, like the Regency package, had the effect of cannibalizing sales from other divisions within the same corporation.  Cadillac, although with a range priced considerably above Oldsmobile, offered nothing with such an ostentatious interior though when it did in 1974 respond with its Talisman package (1974-1976), it made sure it did so with more tufted extravagance still, in 1974 offering leather as well as velour.  The trend the Regency package started would last over twenty years and is remembered especially for the tufted fittings used in Imperials, Chryslers and Dodges, the hides used in the Cordoba range (1975-1983) said to be "rich Corinthian leather", an advertising agency creation which meant nothing in particular but sounded vaguely European and therefore expensive.  Cadillac called the fabric in the Fleetwood Talisman "Medici crushed velour" which had about the same relationship to historic truth as "fine Corinthian leather" but the package sold well over the three seasons it was offered, despite the option costing almost as much (and the leather significantly more) as some new cars.  Among collectors, the holy grail is a 1974 Fleetwood Talisman trimmed in blue leather; although it was on the option list, none has ever been sighted and the factory's records don't breakdown production between the blue and the alternative "medium saddle" (a medium tan), some of which have been verified.

1985 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (left), 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (centre) and 1989 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham d' Elegance (right).  Color choice made a big difference to the perception of the "tufted look", more subdued hues like green and blue less confronting than the "bordello red" which became emblematic of the industry's phase.

Monday, October 4, 2021

Synod

Synod (pronounced sin-uhd)

(1) An assembly of ecclesiastics or other church delegates (particularly of a diocese), convoked pursuant to the law of the church, for the discussion and decision of ecclesiastical affairs (in various denominations such gatherings sometimes described as ecclesiastical councils or).

(2) An assembly or council having civil authority; a legislative body and used (sometimes loosely) of any council of any institution (in this context also used disparagingly of secular institutions thought becoming too rigid in thought or process.

(3) An (often geographical) administrative division or district in the structures of some churches, either the entire denomination or a mid-level division such as a “middle judicatory” or “district”); use of the word “synod” differs between and sometimes within denominations.

(4) In astronomy, a conjunction of two or more of the heavenly bodies.

1350–1400: From the Middle English synod (ecclesiastical council), from the Late Latin synodus, From the Ancient Greek σύνοδος (súnodos or sýnodos) (assembly, meeting; a coming together, a conjunction of planets), the construct being the English syn-(from the Ancient Greek σύν (sún) (with, in company with, together with) + δός ((h)odós) (traveling, journeying; a manner or system (of doing, speaking, etc.); a way, road, path (the word of uncertain origin).  The term סַנְהֶדְרִין‎ (sunédrion) exists in the Hebrew Talmudic literature and was used in a similar way and the early twelfth century Middle English form was sinoth.  Synod was used in the Presbyterian Church between 1953-1922 in the traditional sense of “an assembly of ministers and other elders” when the term was changed to “General Council”, an act of modernization apparently provoked by the word “synod” beings so associated with the Roman Catholic Church and the Church of England.  In the schismatic world of the Medieval Church, just as there were from time to time, “antipopes” (from the Medieval Latin antipāpa), there were also antisynods, convened as meetings of his supporters.  Synod and synodicon are nouns, synodic is an adjective, synodal is a noun & adjective, the noun plural is synods.

The adjective synodal (of or relating to a synod) was a mid-fifteenth century creation from the Late Latin synodalis.  As a noun, a synodal was (1) a constitution made in a provincial or diocesan synod which was subject to review by a central body or (2) a tribute in money formerly paid to the bishop or archdeacon (at the time of his Easter visitation), by every parish priest (now made to the ecclesiastical commissioners and in later versions of canon law referred to as a "procuration").  The adjective synodic dates from the 1630s and was from the Latin synodicus, from the Ancient Greek συνοδικός (sunodikós) (of or related to an assembly or meeting); the form used in the late sixteenth century was synodical.  When used of the conjunction of two or more of the heavenly bodies (the moon and the planets) described by the astronomers of Antiquity, the phenomenon may be called a “synodical revolution” and the time in which it occurs a “synodical month”. Despite sounding suspiciously modern, a synodicon is not associated with on-line video gaming.  The noun synodicon was from the Latin, from the Ancient Greek συνοδικόν (sunodikón) and was a substantivisation of συνοδικός (sunodikós) (synodical).  Institutionalized in modern Italianate Ecclesiastical Latin, it describes a document from a church synod or synods, especially the official records of proceedings.  A subsynod (sometimes as sub-synod) is either (1) an assembly of officials which meets prior to a synod proper to make administrative arrangements, formalize an agenda etc or (2) a kind of sub-committee of a synod which is created for some purpose such as allowing a technical matter to be discussed by experts before being referred to the full assembly of the synod for deliberation.

The noun synodality (the plural synodalities) is used in Christianity to refer (sometimes perhaps optimistically) to the “quality or style of a synod; the fraternal collaboration and discernment as typified in a synod”.  The origin of the word synod (the Ancient Greek συν (together) + δός (journey) hints at the hopefully fraternal collaboration and discernment that such gatherings of ecclesiastical worthies are intended to be, the expression of this the essence of synodality.  The notion of synodality is a part of the mystique of the Roman Catholic Church because it’s said to denote the essence of the church’s mission, something explained by the Holy See's International Theological Commission (ITC) which states that synodality encapsulates “the specific modus vivendi et operandi (way of living & method of operation) of the Church, the People of God, which reveals and gives substance to her being as communion when all her members journey together, gather in assembly and take an active part in her evangelizing mission”.

The ITC is an organization of the Roman Curia which advises the magisterium of the church, most notably the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF, the old Holy Office which many still refer to by its original name: The Inquisition).  The IDF was a creation of the re-structuring in the wake of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II; 1962-1965) and formerly was established in 1969 as a kind of internal think tank which might present a kinder face to the world than the rather austere Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (the CDF (as the DDF was then known)).  That was an approach not unknown (for good & bad) in secular politics and while over the years there have been those who claimed the relationship between the ITC and the CDF was the sort of “creative tension” needed to ensure debates over matters of ethics and procedure stayed dynamic, others have seen the tension but little creativity.  For students of structuralism, it’s of interest the prefect of the DDF is ex officio the president of the ITC, an arrangement carried over in June 2022 when Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013), as a part of a range of reforms to the curia, announced the name change from CDF to DDF.

Pope Francis has made synodality (at least his conception of it) as perhaps the core value he intends to be the legacy of his pontificate and the ITC in 2018 published a paper which made explicit Francis was not modest in his ambitions for that legacy, the ITC’s document stating it was “…precisely this path of synodality which God expects of the Church of the third millennium” and stressed synodality “…is an essential dimension of the Church”, in the sense that “what the Lord is asking of us is already in some sense present in the very word 'synod’”.  Although presumably the pope and the ITC were more concerned with theology than etymology, tracing a tread which ran from the gathering of Christ’s disciples to the sessions of Vatican II in the 1960s, word nerds would anyway have enjoyed the thoughts:

In ecclesiastical Greek it expresses how the disciples of Jesus were called together as an assembly and in some cases it is a synonym for the ecclesial community. Saint John Chrysostom, for example, writes that the Church is a “name standing for 'walking together’ (σύνοδος)". He explains that the Church is actually the assembly convoked to give God thanks and glory like a choir, a harmonic reality which holds everything together (σύστημα), since, by their reciprocal and ordered relations, those who compose it converge in αγάπη and όμονοία (common mind).

Since the first centuries, the word “synod” has been applied, with a specific meaning, to the ecclesial assemblies convoked on various levels (diocesan, provincial, regional, patriarchal or universal) to discern, by the light of the Word of God and listening to the Holy Spirit, the doctrinal, liturgical, canonical and pastoral questions that arise as time goes by.

The Greek σύνοδος is translated into Latin as synodus or concilium. Concilium, in its profane use, refers to an assembly convoked by some legitimate authority. Although the roots of “synod” and “council” are different, their meanings converge. In fact, “council” enriches the semantic content of “synod” by its reference to the Hebrew   קָהָל(qahal), the assembly convoked by the Lord, and its translation into Greek as έκκλησία, which, in the New Testament, refers to the eschatological convocation of the People of God in Christ Jesus.

In the Catholic Church the distinction between the use of the words “council” and “synod” is a recent one. In Vatican II they are synonymous, both referring to the council session. A precise distinction was introduced by the Codex Iuris Canonici of the Latin Church (1983), which distinguishes between a particular (plenary or provincial) Council and an ecumenical Council on the one hand, and a Synod of Bishops and a diocesan Synod on the other hand.

5. In the theological, canonical and pastoral literature of recent decades, a neologism has appeared, the noun “synodality”, a correlate of the adjective “synodal”, with both of these deriving from the word “synod”. Thus people speak of synodality as a “constitutive dimension” of the Church or tout court of the “synodal Church”. This linguistic novelty, which needs careful theological clarification, is a sign of something new that has been maturing in the ecclesial consciousness starting from the Magisterium of Vatican II, and from the lived experience of local Churches and the universal Church since the last Council until today.

So for Francis, the word synodality has assumed an importance beyond that with which it has so long been vested in the Catholic Church so the Vatican watchers took note when, under the pope’s imprimatur, it was in October 2021 announced a summit to be conducted over two years was to be known as the Synod on Synodality.  It would have sounded an innocuous thing had it not been for the ITC’s paper three years earlier and it had the inevitable immediate effect among the clergy, the laity and the theologians: sniffing change in the air, some were hopeful and some fearful.  However, the pope, although thought by many a disruptor is also a realist and understands change in his 2000 year old institution will unfold among the generations to come and his immediate ambition seems restricted to tweaking the way the church relates to the rest of the world rather than overturning dogma.  Thus, expectations of welcoming the LGBTQQIAAOP in the church or approving the ordination of women are absurd but there may be changes in the way bishops both interact with their flock and the priests who are closer to that flock.  Just because a change doesn’t happen in the corridors of the Vatican where the curia plot and scheme, doesn’t mean the power structures haven’t changed.  The flock doesn’t mix with the curia; they talk to their parish priest.

Interestingly, for something some fear will be the harbinger of something radical, the Synod on Synodality is structured in the traditional (Vatican II style) modules with un-threatening names like "communion", "mission" & "participation" but however vague may be the indication of the content, few doubt that at the next session the factions will be mapping onto those titles the concerns which have for decades troubled Rome and it’ll be mostly about sex: whether the thousand-year enforcement of clerical celibacy is the underlying cause of the rampant child-sex abuse among its members, the role of women in the power structures and attitudes towards same-sex relationships including marriage.  Those discussions will play out between the factions and there are few with any hope there'll be many minds changed but the tone of the synod will be important and Francis has the advantage of being the absolute monarch in a theocracy; it is Francis who gets to review the synodicon the theologians and the bishops will submit and he will write the final document of the Synod on Synodality.

Working for more synodality in the world: Lindsay Lohan supporting the NOH8 campaign which sought to end California's 2008 voter-approved gay marriage ban (Proposition 8). 

It means Francis has immense power to shape things and point them in the desired direction and his contribution to ecclesiology is likely to be very different to the intriguing exercises in abstraction which came from the pen of Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022).  Whether that means it becomes simultaneously possible for the church simultaneously to continue to condemn homosexuality as a sin yet approve priests giving a blessing to those in a same-sex marriage remains to be seen but in many places, it would merely be an acknowledgement of what’s already happening.  Still, those who enjoy the process of such things more than the outcome can be assured there'll be much weeping and gnashing of teeth during the modules and some rending of garments on the way out.