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Episcopal bishops who had ordained the original eleven women priests—who would do the same for Catholic women.
    But even should that happen, Patty knew the fight would by no means be over. Even if a validly ordained—not under the pressure of an oppressive Communist regime—Catholic bishop were to ordain women who had no impediment to ordination except their femininity, the Vatican Church would fight it with everything in its power. Of this she was certain.
    Patty had entertained these thoughts so often that now they passed through her mind in just a few moments.
    Andrea could not have known the stream of consciousness her observation had triggered. To her it seemed Patty responded immediately.

    â€œI’ve wanted to be a priest too long? Andy, isn’t that like telling an astronaut she spends too much time thinking about flying? Or a writer that he’s reading too many books? What’s wrong with wanting to be a priest?”
    â€œNothing—on the face of it. But let me offer you a couple of analogies. Your wanting to be a priest is like a kid who wants to be an Olympic runner but she’s paraplegic. Or she wants to sing for the Met, but she’s tone deaf.
    â€œBottom line for all of you: It’s not going to happen.”
    â€œMaybe it could. Maybe it will. What if we find a bishop who’s willing to ordain us? What about Bishop McNiff?”
    â€œWhoever it is, it’s got to be someone who’s willing to spend his remaining days picking buckshot out of his hide. And even in the unlikely event—as they say on planes—you do find such a dauntless martyr, Rome would not sit still for it. My guess is the Vatican would simply declare the ordination invalid, have some vino, and call it a day.”
    â€œEven then,” Patty pressed on, “we would just carry the battle to a higher level.
    â€œThose of us who were ordained would push on ahead to exercise our priesthood. We’d preside at the eucharistic liturgy. We’d absolve. We’d bless. We’d do everything priests do.
    â€œThe struggle would go on, as it does now.”
    â€œNow? Here?”
    â€œCertainly. Here and now we want to be admitted to the M.Div courses.”
    â€œAgain, why? Even if you’re admitted and you pass them all, where does that get you? You’re all dressed up with a degree and you’ve got no place to go.”
    â€œNot so. When we find our bishop we’ll be ready to go. We won’t be forced to say, ‘Thanks very much for the call to orders, Bishop, but we’ll have to take a few courses’—so a lack of preparation won’t be thrown in our faces along with everything else.”
    â€œBut, Pat, you can take these courses just a few miles from here at Orchard Lake Seminary. Why bang your head against the wall here?”
    Patty nodded. “Cyril and Methodius does offer the M.Div courses to women—as do many other seminaries in this country. But that’s like, before the civil rights movement, telling an African-American that there’s a water fountain down the street so she doesn’t have to try to get a drink at this fountain here that’s reserved for whites.
    â€œThe point is, Andy: All the water fountains should be available to everyone, no matter what their skin color. And all the seminaries should have to offer M.Div courses to everyone, male and female alike.”
    Andrea, lost in thought, did not respond. Patty was content to let her argument sink in.
    â€œI’ve got to admit you make a convincing case,” Andrea said after a time. “And I can see parallels with the civil rights struggles—at least as far as I’ve read about them and watched the TV documentaries. But the civil rights struggle has one very important advantage over women’s ordination …” She did not pursue the thought.
    â€œSo?” Patty said. “And that is?”
    â€œThey—the