Eucharist celebrated by leading Swiss female theologian

Monika Schmid celebrates the Eucharist, but doesn't see herself as a Catholic priest

Kindergarten teacher, with husband and a family: that's how Monika Schmid (65) had imagined her life.  But it turned out differently.  She remained single - and became one of Switzerland's best-known theologians.  She is fed up with the self-pity of many pastoral workers.  Her credo: "Just do it!"

Monika Schmid makes Bishop Vitus Huonder see red.  The "Word on Sunday" TV presenter wears a red ladies' jacket with a lapel collar as she denounces cover-ups and double standards in the Catholic Church.  And this on Candlemas!

"This can cause trouble"

On 2 February 2008, Monika Schmid was on skiing holiday in the Engadine when her "Word for Sunday" caused a stir.  The editor-in-charge at Swiss TV had warned her: "Do you really want to say it like that? That could cause trouble.  "Yes, I want to say it like that," says Monika Schmid.

Whoever looks at the recording from back then asks themselves: And where exactly is the scandal now?  Monika Schmid is not saying anything heretical.  She is saying what dozens of abuse studies will show later: that the Church is applying double standards.  That it goes to great lengths to protect perpetrators.  It sends priests to other dioceses or abroad.  The protection of the institution is more important to the Church than the victims.


Vitus Huonder wants to dismiss Monika Schmid

The then Bishop of Chur, Vitus Huonder, was outraged by the "Word on Sunday" programme. He would prefer to dismiss Monika Schmid from the church ministry - but that is not so easy in Switzerland's dual system.

During her holidays in the Engadine - here St. Moritz - Monika Schmid defended the "Word on Sunday" of 2 February 2008.

Monika Schmid had the support of her church council.  The Zurich Synodal Council calls a crisis meeting - and protects the popular church leader.  In addition, the whole of Switzerland feels involved.  Monika Schmid receives over 500 letters and e-mails.  A few are abusive. Most of them congratulate the theologian on her courage.

Hans Küng puts her in touch with Giusep Nay

And then comes the call from Hans Küng.  Monika Schmid is related to the church rebel from Sursee. But Hans Küng didn't know that at the time when he called to offer his help.  He puts Monika Schmid in touch with the lawyer, Giusep Nay.

Monika Schmid says goodbye to Hans Küng in Lucerne.

The former President of the Federal Supreme Court recognised a formal error in the disciplinary proceedings.  Monika Schmid had not been heard before the withdrawal of the "Missio canonica". The withdrawal of the "Missio canonica" is not legal - Monika Schmid can remain in office.

Joseph Bonnemain: friendly, but part of the Huonder system

 

Joseph Bonnemain also played a role in the power struggle between Chur and Zurich.  Today's Bishop of Chur was the Head of the Episcopal Office at the time. Monika Schmid says Joseph Bonnemain was very friendly and very fair.  But he went along with the Chur game.

In times of crisis, some people break.  Others grow from their challenges.  Monika Schmid went through a life crisis as a young woman.  At boarding school with the Baldegg sisters, she experienced a narrowness that had nothing to do with her liberal parental home.

Therapy as "the best preventive work”

Social control on an unhealthy scale: all that was not for Monika Schmid.  She starts psychotherapy. "It was the best thing that could have happened to me," says Monika Schmid today.  "I got to know myself.  Every theologian in pastoral care should do a kind of teaching therapy with psychologists trained for this - outside the church.  That should be part of the equipment.  That would also be the best prevention work."

Thanks to the therapy, Monika Schmid had gained a healthy self-confidence.  And yet the power struggle with Chur has not left her unscathed.  If you look in the archive at other "Word on Sunday" programmes from 2008, you will find a more well-behaved, Monika Schmid. She does not wear red. She does not attack.  She seems less militant.

She doesn't ask big questions - she just does it.

And yet she remains Monika Schmid: courageous, unconventional, pragmatic.  She doesn't ask big questions - she just does it.

The trained kindergarten teacher was so bored with many children's Masses that the priest in a very Catholic village asked her to organise them herself.  And suddenly Monika Schmid was standing at the altar as a young woman and concelebrating.  The priest entrusted her with more and more tasks.  That was the trigger for her to study religious education and theology.

"Now Monika preaches as well as the priest".

Monika Schmid goes into raptures when she talks about Dean Jakob Romer, the former parish priest of Effretikon. "He was a deeply spiritual person, a very good theologian and his sermons were known far and wide," says Monika Schmid.  "We were a dream team.  After every sermon I received razor-sharp feedback.  That was often hard.  But I wanted to learn." After three years, people said, "Now Monika preaches as well as the parish priest."

When Jakob Romer became dean, he had many appointments - even on Sundays.  Once he had to leave at short notice.  He asked Monika Schmid to celebrate the Eucharist.  And Monika Schmid follows.

"I was just a little nervous," says Monika Schmid about her first Eucharist celebration.

She was not celebrating a Liturgy of the Word.  She was not celebrating a near-mass.  She is celebrating a Eucharist - the way the priest usually celebrates it.  With offertory, high prayer, words of institution from the Bible.  "I was just a little nervous," says Monika Schmid.

At the beginning of the service, the pastor was there and explained the situation to the people.  "Nobody got excited, that's just how it should be," says Monika Schmid.

"Dean Jakob Romer - on the right in the picture - would have made a good bishop," says Monika Schmid.  He let her celebrate the Eucharist.

She doesn't wear an alb: "I don't need a white coat".

"I celebrated Eucharist because I had an assignment from the dean.  And the liturgy is sacred to me.  It would never have occurred to me to fake anything.  I don't stand at the altar in an alb and stole either but wear my private clothes.  I am not a Catholic priestess and I don't want to be.  I do not pretend to be something I am not."

When Pope Francis came to Geneva in 2018, there was a debate about whether lay theologians should be allowed to wear an alb.  That would be nothing for Monika Schmid: "I am from the people and belong to the people.  I don't need a white coat.  I want to put Jesus' word 'Do this in memory of me' into practice.  Jesus does not need a priestly representation in personam Christi.  Jesus is present in the Word and in the broken bread after all, that's how we believe it, there's nothing to shake."

During Holy Week, the minis spend the night in the parish centre.

Monika Schmid thinks that the liturgy in many church services is uncharitably muddled.  When former Federal Councillor Doris Leuthard complains in an interview with kath.ch that many church services miss the point of life, Monika Schmid can understand that: "The liturgy leads to the centre of our faith.  And yet there is often sloppiness."

But not with Monika Schmid.  A highlight for her every year is Holy Week.  Together with more than 20 altar boys and girls, she organises every service.  There is a kind of camp, the altar servers spend the night in the parish centre during Holy Week.

On Good Friday, the altar servers wear a red rose.

"The altar servers don't come to me to carry candlesticks.  They are liturgists with us," says Monika Schmid.  "They express the core of every liturgy with their actions.  When 30 altar servers enter in silence on Good Friday, with their white vestments and a red rose each, it is a message that people understand without words.  The message of love that gives itself body and soul.

The meeting with Monika Schmid at an Italian tavolata is very entertaining.  She is bubbling over with ideas and has one story after another in store.  With the best will in the world, one cannot imagine that this energetic woman will soon be a pensioner.

Fear of the black hole

Monika Schmid lives alone.  "There have been relationships, but my life path went in a different direction.  Not having children was a real sacrifice," says the former nursery school teacher.

And what happens now?  Monika Schmid doesn't know yet.  "There is also a bit of fear.  The fear of the black hole." Over the next few months, she wants to think and listen to her heart about what could become of the coming time.

No desire for theological whining rounds

Most of all, she would like to coach other pastors: How do I give my sermon more drive and depth?  How do I design services that touch people?  "My great strength is organising funeral services," says Monika Schmid.

But the long-time church leader is not sure whether such an offer would be well received.  "I don't see many people willing to work on themselves," says Monika Schmid.  "The feedback culture in the church environment also leaves a lot to be desired." She is also annoyed by theological whining sessions and the self-pity of some pastoral staff.

A priest, of all people, becomes her successor

Monika Schmid is a networker.  She feels she knows all the Catholics in German-speaking Switzerland who have something to say.  And they all seem to know her.  So it is not surprising that Effretikon has a successor with stature: the priest Felix Hunger.

With short hair, Felix Hunger had Bachelor potential.  The NZZ spoke of the "poster boy of the young priesthood".  But does that fit?  Of all things, a priest follows the anti-clerical parish leader!

"Sure," says Monika Schmid and laughs.  "Of course, Effretikon would have offered a layperson freedoms that don't exist anywhere else in Switzerland.  But the church council is enthusiastic about Felix Hunger and I hope he can take new initiatives."

No ruffian

The evening progresses.  Actually, she is a timid person, says the woman with the many freckles. How does that fit in with her courage, her combativeness, all that red?  "I constantly ask myself: Am I faithful to the Gospel?  Where would I have to act differently and are my actions sufficient?"

But actually she is really fearful, Monika Schmid repeats.  And devout.  "But that doesn't interest the media," she says and laughs.  "In my parish, however, people don't know me as a troublemaker. Here, they know me as a woman who loves the Church and that's why she gets into trouble with the hierarchy now and then."

An ex-priest shares the cup with his wife

It is getting late.  Monika Schmid could still tell a lot.  At the end, she tells of a service that has been particularly close to her heart in recent months:  Holy Thursday in Omikron Holy Week 2022.

Monika Schmid says goodbye to her congregation.

"For me it was clear: we celebrate Maundy Thursday under both kinds, that is, with bread and wine." To prevent infections, the faithful were to bring a cup from home.  "Each cup was symbolic of the people.  A former priest, now married, brought his first chalice and shared the wine with his wife. At that moment, it became clear to me once again what clericalism is and what the priesthood of all believers means," says Monika Schmid.

She is not waiting for Pope Francis to move forward with church reforms.  Her credo: "Just do it!

 

 

"This can cause trouble"

On 2 February 2008, Monika Schmid was on skiing holiday in the Engadine when her "Word for Sunday" caused a stir.  The editor-in-charge at Swiss TV had warned her: "Do you really want to say it like that? That could cause trouble.  "Yes, I want to say it like that," says Monika Schmid.

Whoever looks at the recording from back then asks themselves: And where exactly is the scandal now?  Monika Schmid is not saying anything heretical.  She is saying what dozens of abuse studies will show later: that the Church is applying double standards.  That it goes to great lengths to protect perpetrators.  It sends priests to other dioceses or abroad.  The protection of the institution is more important to the Church than the victims.

Vitus Huonder wants to dismiss Monika Schmid

The then Bishop of Chur, Vitus Huonder, was outraged by the "Word on Sunday" programme. He would prefer to dismiss Monika Schmid from the church ministry - but that is not so easy in Switzerland's dual system.

During her holidays in the Engadine - here St. Moritz - Monika Schmid defends the "Word on Sunday" of 2 February 2008.

Monika Schmid had the support of her church council.  The Zurich Synodal Council calls a crisis meeting - and protects the popular church leader.  In addition, the whole of Switzerland feels involved.  Monika Schmid receives over 500 letters and e-mails.  A few are abusive. Most of them congratulate the theologian on her courage.

Hans Küng puts her in touch with Giusep Nay

And then comes the call from Hans Küng.  Monika Schmid is related to the church rebel from Sursee. But Hans Küng didn't know that at the time when he called to offer his help.  He puts Monika Schmid in touch with the lawyer, Giusep Nay.

Monika Schmid says goodbye to Hans Küng in Lucerne.

The former President of the Federal Supreme Court recognised a formal error in the disciplinary proceedings.  Monika Schmid had not been heard before the withdrawal of the "Missio canonica". The withdrawal of the "Missio canonica" is not legal - Monika Schmid can remain in office.

Joseph Bonnemain: friendly, but part of the Huonder system

 

Joseph Bonnemain also played a role in the power struggle between Chur and Zurich.  Today's Bishop of Chur was the Head of the Episcopal Office at the time. Monika Schmid says Joseph Bonnemain was very friendly and very fair.  But he went along with the Chur game.

In times of crisis, some people break.  Others grow from their challenges.  Monika Schmid went through a life crisis as a young woman.  At boarding school with the Baldegg sisters, she experienced a narrowness that had nothing to do with her liberal parental home.

Therapy as "the best preventive work”

Social control on an unhealthy scale: all that was not for Monika Schmid.  She starts psychotherapy. "It was the best thing that could have happened to me," says Monika Schmid today.  "I got to know myself.  Every theologian in pastoral care should do a kind of teaching therapy with psychologists trained for this - outside the church.  That should be part of the equipment.  That would also be the best prevention work."

Thanks to the therapy, Monika Schmid had gained a healthy self-confidence.  And yet the power struggle with Chur has not left her unscathed.  If you look in the archive at other "Word on Sunday" programmes from 2008, you will find a more well-behaved, Monika Schmid. She does not wear red. She does not attack.  She seems less militant.

She doesn't ask big questions - she just does it.

And yet she remains Monika Schmid: courageous, unconventional, pragmatic.  She doesn't ask big questions - she just does it.

The trained kindergarten teacher was so bored with many children's Masses that the priest in a very Catholic village asked her to organise them herself.  And suddenly Monika Schmid was standing at the altar as a young woman and concelebrating.  The priest entrusted her with more and more tasks.  That was the trigger for her to study religious education and theology.

"Now Monika preaches as well as the priest".

Monika Schmid goes into raptures when she talks about Dean Jakob Romer, the former parish priest of Effretikon. "He was a deeply spiritual person, a very good theologian and his sermons were known far and wide," says Monika Schmid.  "We were a dream team.  After every sermon I received razor-sharp feedback.  That was often hard.  But I wanted to learn." After three years, people said, "Now Monika preaches as well as the parish priest."

When Jakob Romer became dean, he had many appointments - even on Sundays.  Once he had to leave at short notice.  He asked Monika Schmid to celebrate the Eucharist.  And Monika Schmid follows.

"I was just a little nervous," says Monika Schmid about her first Eucharist celebration.

She was not celebrating a Liturgy of the Word.  She was not celebrating a near-mass.  She is celebrating a Eucharist - the way the priest usually celebrates it.  With offertory, high prayer, words of institution from the Bible.  "I was just a little nervous," says Monika Schmid.

At the beginning of the service, the pastor was there and explained the situation to the people.  "Nobody got excited, that's just how it should be," says Monika Schmid.

"Dean Jakob Romer - on the right in the picture - would have made a good bishop," says Monika Schmid.  He let her celebrate the Eucharist.

She doesn't wear an alb: "I don't need a white coat".

"I celebrated Eucharist because I had an assignment from the dean.  And the liturgy is sacred to me.  It would never have occurred to me to fake anything.  I don't stand at the altar in an alb and stole either but wear my private clothes.  I am not a Catholic priestess and I don't want to be.  I do not pretend to be something I am not."

When Pope Francis came to Geneva in 2018, there was a debate about whether lay theologians should be allowed to wear an alb.  That would be nothing for Monika Schmid: "I am from the people and belong to the people.  I don't need a white coat.  I want to put Jesus' word 'Do this in memory of me' into practice.  Jesus does not need a priestly representation in personam Christi.  Jesus is present in the Word and in the broken bread after all, that's how we believe it, there's nothing to shake."

During Holy Week, the minis spend the night in the parish centre.

Monika Schmid thinks that the liturgy in many church services is uncharitably muddled.  When former Federal Councillor Doris Leuthard complains in an interview with kath.ch that many church services miss the point of life, Monika Schmid can understand that: "The liturgy leads to the centre of our faith.  And yet there is often sloppiness."

But not with Monika Schmid.  A highlight for her every year is Holy Week.  Together with more than 20 altar boys and girls, she organises every service.  There is a kind of camp, the altar servers spend the night in the parish centre during Holy Week.

On Good Friday, the altar servers wear a red rose.

"The altar servers don't come to me to carry candlesticks.  They are liturgists with us," says Monika Schmid.  "They express the core of every liturgy with their actions.  When 30 altar servers enter in silence on Good Friday, with their white vestments and a red rose each, it is a message that people understand without words.  The message of love that gives itself body and soul.

The meeting with Monika Schmid at an Italian tavolata is very entertaining.  She is bubbling over with ideas and has one story after another in store.  With the best will in the world, one cannot imagine that this energetic woman will soon be a pensioner.

Fear of the black hole

Monika Schmid lives alone.  "There have been relationships, but my life path went in a different direction.  Not having children was a real sacrifice," says the former nursery school teacher.

And what happens now?  Monika Schmid doesn't know yet.  "There is also a bit of fear.  The fear of the black hole." Over the next few months, she wants to think and listen to her heart about what could become of the coming time.

No desire for theological whining rounds

Most of all, she would like to coach other pastors: How do I give my sermon more drive and depth?  How do I design services that touch people?  "My great strength is organising funeral services," says Monika Schmid.

But the long-time church leader is not sure whether such an offer would be well received.  "I don't see many people willing to work on themselves," says Monika Schmid.  "The feedback culture in the church environment also leaves a lot to be desired." She is also annoyed by theological whining sessions and the self-pity of some pastoral staff.

A priest, of all people, becomes her successor

Monika Schmid is a networker.  She feels she knows all the Catholics in German-speaking Switzerland who have something to say.  And they all seem to know her.  So it is not surprising that Effretikon has a successor with stature: the priest Felix Hunger.

With short hair, Felix Hunger had Bachelor potential.  The NZZ spoke of the "poster boy of the young priesthood".  But does that fit?  Of all things, a priest follows the anti-clerical parish leader!

"Sure," says Monika Schmid and laughs.  "Of course, Effretikon would have offered a layperson freedoms that don't exist anywhere else in Switzerland.  But the church council is enthusiastic about Felix Hunger and I hope he can take new initiatives."

No ruffian

The evening progresses.  Actually, she is a timid person, says the woman with the many freckles. How does that fit in with her courage, her combativeness, all that red?  "I constantly ask myself: Am I faithful to the Gospel?  Where would I have to act differently and are my actions sufficient?"

But actually she is really fearful, Monika Schmid repeats.  And devout.  "But that doesn't interest the media," she says and laughs.  "In my parish, however, people don't know me as a troublemaker. Here, they know me as a woman who loves the Church and that's why she gets into trouble with the hierarchy now and then."

An ex-priest shares the cup with his wife

It is getting late.  Monika Schmid could still tell a lot.  At the end, she tells of a service that has been particularly close to her heart in recent months:  Holy Thursday in Omikron Holy Week 2022.

Monika Schmid says goodbye to her congregation.

"For me it was clear: we celebrate Maundy Thursday under both kinds, that is, with bread and wine." To prevent infections, the faithful were to bring a cup from home.  "Each cup was symbolic of the people.  A former priest, now married, brought his first chalice and shared the wine with his wife. At that moment, it became clear to me once again what clericalism is and what the priesthood of all believers means," says Monika Schmid.

She is not waiting for Pope Francis to move forward with church reforms.  Her Credo: "Just do it!

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