Meople experience power and powerlessness in all kinds of biographical contexts - including and especially in the church.
Power: Everywhere and nowhere?
The interpretation of a specific situation or even a structural relationship can certainly differ: What one person experiences as powerlessness does not necessarily have to be understood as powerful by the other. And what one party does not want to be understood as an exercise of power, but as a benevolent service, can nevertheless be experienced by another as disempowering. In addition, concrete power relations are always situated in larger contexts and thus lose even more clarity. This was already described by several people in the introductory round of the conference on omnipotence, power and powerlessness: "Of course I have power as a teacher / pastor - but I am also involved in power from above and below."
So if power occurs practically everywhere, but is often experienced ambiguously: What then can be said about the phenomenon of power in general? What analytical added value does the category of "power" harbour and what options for action - both individual and structural - result from labelling something as power or powerful? Does this also allow us to say something about the evaluation of the exercise and experience of power? In order to get to the bottom of these questions, we will develop some analytical tools below. Our approach is inductive and is based on concrete manifestations, experiences and strategies of power in the context of the Synodal Path. To this end, we have selected examples in which people talk about their own experiences of power or powerlessness. The aim is, on the one hand, to understand what concrete power consists of in detail and, on the other hand, to show the possibilities for dealing with it. If power is an element of social interaction, it cannot be a question of abolishing or suppressing it. Rather, the task must be to exercise power in a legitimate manner. Ethical reflection can offer criteria and guidelines for this.
(Self-)empowerment through storytelling
In the Catholic Church, questions of power and powerlessness were dealt with prominently in the context of the Synodal Way. It is therefore hardly surprising that many examples of descriptions of individual experiences of power and powerlessness can be found in this context. A lot can be learnt about power not only from the texts that have been developed and adopted, but also from individual situations and experiences that seem to take place only in passing.
The selected examples are situations in which people express themselves publicly. This means that it is no longer just about the individual's own experience of power or powerlessness, but also about the process of communicating it. What is individually experienced as powerlessness is initially only accessible to us through the narrative. We do not know what the respective persons have experienced beyond what is narrated and how they interpret what they have experienced.
This publicising is itself an act relevant to power theory, in which the person speaking makes an interpretation. Speaking of one's own powerlessness thus leads from passivity to an active shaping of the situation. By changing the situational environment, the framework conditions change and publicising enables reactions. At the same time, the process of understanding a certain event as powerlessness is not a purely individual act, but is integrated into social relationships. When interpreting a situation, we fall back on hermeneutic resourcesfor example, on shared concepts and ideas, on images and narratives. This becomes particularly clear in one of Johanna Beck's experiences, which she describes in her book Redo what breaks you describes: "I believed that I didn't have the right to speak of abuse in my case, as it was 'only' a case of sexualised assault and verbal boundary violations and not rape. So I didn't realise for far too long that all my negative feelings and my hurt were justified." (Beck 2022, 45.) It was only many years after her radical experiences of powerlessness that she was able to understand what had happened to her as sexual abuse. The decisive factor in her case was the MHG study and the report by the Grand Jury of Pennsylvania on sexual abuse in six US dioceses in the state of Pennsylvania, which had been published a few weeks earlier. "Now I fully realise that my case also involved sexual abuse. In this way, I finally have a key in my hand with which I can decipher and explain both my negative experiences and the consequences." (Beck 2022, 46.) Although her experience is not changed by the 'label', this term enables her to access it differently.
Such hermeneutic resources are formed and passed on in social processes. People therefore have different resources that make them more or less capable of speaking. Marginalised groups in particular repeatedly struggle with the fact that they are unable to name injustice as such or perhaps even understand it in the first place. The American philosopher Miranda Fricker describes this as hermeneutic injustice. (Cf. Fricker 2023.)
This can already explain in principle why language and the labelling of experiences of powerlessness are important. In most cases, however, articulation is also based on the desire for resonance. Credibility is a key factor in any exchange between people. It happens again and again that certain people are unjustifiably given too much or too little credibility. However, certain groups struggle with a structural lack of credibility due to identity-related prejudices. Although they may have significant knowledge on a particular issue, they are not believed. Fricker speaks here of Testimonial injustice. The treatment of victims and survivors of sexualised violence is a sad example of the significance of these two forms of epistemic injustice.
Resonance as recognition
As a rule, the first response that people hope for when they talk about the powerlessness they have experienced is a fundamental recognition. The recognition of the narrative and the recognition of the person telling the story go hand in hand: because by believing the content of the narrative, the person telling the story is eo ipso recognised as a credible subject of knowledge. Particularly when the powerlessness experienced is linked to existential vulnerability, individual recognition is a key prerequisite for many other processes. When Johanna Beck describes how she ran up against a "wall of doubt" (Beck 2022, 78) during her testimony in the context of 'her' canonical proceedings, it was precisely this recognition that was missing.
While this type of recognition relates to the specific event and the individual person, another form of recognition is important, particularly in debates surrounding the Synodal Path. Some members of the Synodal Assembly criticised the fact that both the discussions and the initial text proposals were dominated by theological jargon. This limited many members of the Synodal Assembly in their ability to participate in the discussion. Katharina Ges-
kes, one of the 15 members of the Synodal Pathway under the age of 30. She herself was 21 years old at the time and was studying social work. In an interview with catholic.com she is asked about her approach to the text work in the forums. In response, she first admits that it is certainly important for the results to be received by the global church that the resolution texts are written at an appropriately high theological level. However, "it would be important to conduct the discussions of the Synodal Path in an understandable language so that everyone can have their say. In the discussion culture of the process, I have already noticed that it is mainly the theologians and clergy who are able to speak because they are familiar with the terms. Language expresses power in a certain way and especially when there is a forum on this topic in the Synodal Path, you should make sure that you exercise as little power as possible during the discussions. Only then can all people participate." (Geskes 2021a.) A few months later, a synodal assembly finally votes on some initial texts at first reading. The drafts are published a few weeks before the assembly and can be commented on by all members of the synodal assembly. In another interview with catholic.com Katharina Geskes is asked how she prepared for the meeting. She says: "To be honest, I found it quite difficult to prepare for the content. I wasn't able to read all the texts that were submitted. There were a lot of very long texts and the synodal path is not my main profession. I was in my practical semester, working part-time and moving house. I was therefore only able to skim the texts and I was hoping for the expertise of many people, exchanging ideas with others and obtaining expert opinions." When asked about the commentaries, in which only five of the 15 people under the age of 30 had "submitted applications", she says: "I didn't have the time or the leisure to comment on the commentaries in particular. And I think many others felt the same way. That's not because we weren't willing, but simply because it's basically our free time that we're giving away here and there's not so much time for it in normal everyday life." (Geskes 2021b.)
Both examples illustrate access to resources: In one case, the linguistic and habitual skills that facilitated participation in specialist discussions in the Synodal Way, in the other case, the time capacity to read and process the large amounts of text in a qualified manner. When Katharina Geskes criticises the fact that certain hurdles and exclusion mechanisms come into play as a result, this makes it clear that large groups were far less able to participate than the group that had a command of the theological terminology and also had the time to deal with the topics as part of their professional activities: "This is the only way everyone can have a say." Geske's statements in the interviews make these hurdles visible by openly addressing them. The structures that prevent a group from participating are experienced as powerful. If access to certain resources becomes a barrier to participation in a discourse, there are basically two ways to change this: Either by distributing the relevant resources differently or by removing or avoiding the barriers. The naming of one's own powerlessness is therefore aimed at creating a counter-power or limiting the power denounced.
Power through participation
The fact that participation in the discussions in the Synodal Way is relevant in terms of power theory is made clear by another example. Julia Knop, also a synodal member and professor of dogmatics in Erfurt, said in an interview with the Kölner Stadtanzeiger that "the synodal path [...] has virtually reversed the principle of participation in the church". "It is of course about the participation of the faithful in church leadership - but also about the bishops participating in the theological debates, that they have to argue and can no longer just decree." Joachim Frank, who conducted the interview, went on to ask: "Is that really the case? The central draft resolutions had to be watered down before the vote, otherwise - according to the threat - they would have failed due to the bishops' blocking minority. Is that what you call participation?", to which Julia Knop replied: "No, that's blocking. But take a look at the lists of speakers at the last synodal assembly compared to the first one! A development has taken place: Many bishops stepped out of anonymity, out of the eloquent silence of power, and have publicly positioned themselves on the reform plans. In a secular context, that's ridiculously little, I know. But in the church, that's quite a lot." (Knop 2023.) Julia Knop's argument is therefore that the Synodal Way succeeded - at least to a limited extent - in shifting the arena of power and thus the rules of the game. Although the diocesan bishops are still able to issue valid decrees as legislators, this resource of power was no longer the only decisive factor. In addition, the theological argument now came into play, which, however, could not automatically be granted exclusively to a certain group within the synodal assembly, but followed a different logic of distribution. (Cf. Dietz 2022.) Of course, this in turn meant other exclusions and hurdles, as Katharina Geske's example makes clear.
Importance of the setting
However, what the Synodal Way has achieved collectively can also be recognised in individual situations. It is worth taking a closer look at the dispute between synod member Viola Kohlberger and Rainer Maria Woelki. During a synodal meeting in September 2021, there was a debate on the general situation. This took place shortly after Rainer Maria Woelki's first resignation as Archbishop of Cologne was rejected. In response, the synod member Viola Kohlberger posted on Facebook that she did not know how she should confront Rainer Maria Woelki and the other bishops involved in this case during the upcoming assembly. In the corresponding debate during the assembly, she referred to this post in an intervention. The next day, she was approached by Woelki on her way to the toilet during the lunch break.
A few days later, she published a video on Instagram in which she described her experience and interpreted it as an abuse of power. Visibly offended, she described her impressions: "And then, one day later, it was pretty much towards the end of the lunch break and I thought I'd go to the toilet again, and the distances were really long, and then I was intercepted in the corridor by Rainer Maria Woelki, the Archbishop of Cologne, when most of the people were already back in the hall. And he approached me and said that it was you who quoted this post yesterday. And I said, yes, that was me, that was me. And then there was a conversation lasting about five minutes, it felt much longer, but it mainly consisted of him saying that I was acting completely emotionally, that I couldn't accuse him of anything because he was doing everything right, that several expertises and even the Holy Father in Rome had confirmed that he hadn't made any mistakes. [...] In retrospect, I would say that it was a real verbal lashing out. [...] And during this time, he was really close to me. It was actually far too close, but at the time it was just really unpleasant for me and I couldn't put my finger on it. He was also taller than me and looked down on me and spoke with all the authority of his archbishopric and put me under immense pressure. I'm very proud of myself that I still said that I thought he had to take responsibility, that he had to take responsibility for the system and that I thought he should resign as archbishop. Because I really believe that. And I can say that quite well now, after I said it to his face. The conversation then ended rather abruptly because he said he had to go back to the assembly, and I said: Yes - me too." (Kohlberger 2021.)
A few days later, Rainer Maria Woelki apologised in a Facebook post in which he initially explained that he saw the Synodal Way as a place for open discourse, meaning that he also wanted to address Viola Kohlberger's criticism in a personal conversation. "In the course of this personal conversation, Mrs Kohlberger obviously got the impression that I wanted to put pressure on her. Nothing was further from my mind and I apologise for that. I would like to expressly apologise for this." (Woelki 2021.)
Viola Kohlberger interpreted the confrontation at the edge of the Synodal Path as an experience of powerlessness. This becomes clear in several aspects of her description of the situation: she mentions the spatial constellation, the proximity, the difference in body size, as well as role attributions and the opportunity, which she describes as "intercepting". But by telling this story on her Instagram account, she changes the arena of power. It quickly becomes clear that the setting has a significant influence on which forms of power can be exercised. Because neither body size nor proximity or distance exist on Instagram. And by changing the main addressee, the attributions of roles and credibility - here the young woman, there the archbishop - have a completely different effect. Kohlberger receives a great deal of media attention and a great deal of sympathy. The changed arena also changes the means and effect of power here.
To summarise, it can therefore be said: Depending on the setting in which you find yourself, power can come from different sources. From this perspective alone, numerous forms of power imbalances can be identified within the framework of the examples mentioned: Gender, identity and role assignment (e.g. ecclesiastical status), knowledge or the ability to speak, visibility and representation, control over the design of the setting and, finally, the power that lies in cooperation, collectivisation and solidarity.
All of these resources are available to different people to varying degrees. Two conclusions can be drawn from this: Firstly, on the positive side: If you want to achieve a certain goal, the likelihood of success depends heavily on what power resources are available and within what framework the goal can be pursued. By becoming aware of these influencing factors, the scope for action increases significantly: What do I want to achieve and in what context? What resources can I utilise for this? Finally, you can specifically look for settings in which the chances of success are as good as possible because the resources actually available are relevant there.
Ethical legitimisation and limitation of power
In other words, this insight also means that different forms of power imbalances can overlap not only in the mode of mutual equalisation, but also as mutual reinforcement. This is known as intersectionality: different forms of structural disadvantage overlap. A woman is always a laywoman at the same time and may not have a theological degree. In general society, there are also many other markers: nationality, migration experience or background, language skills, medical condition, skin colour, religious affiliation and many more.
It is therefore sometimes not even possible to change the arena because the framework conditions are lacking. Looking at individual strategies, as described above, can therefore only ever be one element in dealing with power imbalances. It does not, however, release us from the question of how power can be limited and legitimised in the first place. Although power in itself is ethically neutral, it has extremely relevant ethical effects in every specific situation. It can protect people's rights just as much as it can violate them, it can (re)establish justice or cause experiences of injustice. The question of how power should be structured is therefore closely linked to the very fundamental question of how we want to live together.
Firstly, it is important to realise that there is no life outside of power. Any realistic understanding of freedom must take seriously the fact that human life takes place in relationships and thus in social relationships. Every freedom is therefore also a conditional freedom, because it can only be realised in relation to other people and structures. At the same time, the ability to act in a self-determined manner, in the sense of a "vulnerable agency" (Haker 2019), is dependent on the fact that this self-determination can be violated. For the sociologist and power theorist Heinrich Popitz, this goes to the heart of human existence: "We live in a vulnerable existence, dependent on artefacts, future-oriented and in need of justification in our actions. Therefore, we must suffer power." (Popitz 2009, 33.)
Based on these initially purely descriptive findings, it is now necessary to ask normatively where and how power should work and where and how it should not. In the following, we would like to make some suggestions as to what this could mean in the area of the church. The aim is to establish a church practice that is just and liberating in the broadest sense.
The first step is to uncover abusive thought structures, mentalities and attitudes. In other words, the hermeneutical resources of the church need to be questioned in a power-critical manner as to where they contribute to participation and empowerment and where, on the contrary, they contain hurtful and marginalising aspects. This applies both to statements made by the church's magisterium and to everyday behaviour in church congregations and groups. Current theological research is tackling this task in many areas. The analytical parts of this article can also be seen as a building block in this endeavour. If the results of this research can be put into practice so that actual habits of thought, speech and action change, an essential prerequisite for successful co-operation will have been created.
Beyond this, however, the quality of interaction must also change. To a certain extent, the programme of togetherness that is already implied in the concept of the Synodal Path must be implemented. However, this does not simply mean perpetuating the concrete structure of the Synodal Path - which certainly also had some shortcomings. Rather, it is essential that all voices are actually heard. Because only the inclusion of as many perspectives as possible can lead to serious cooperation in action.
Ultimately, structures must be organised in such a way that their own power structure is constantly critically reflected upon and, if necessary, adapted. On the one hand, this fundamentally means tolerating criticism in the first place and dealing with it productively. In a broader sense, however, it also means that people must be put in the best possible position to accompany the structures constructively and critically. This means, for example, extensive theological education programmes - not only in the form of catechesis, but also with a specific focus on enabling people to critically reflect on power structures and their own position within them.
The moral demands on the church are particularly high. In view of its mission, however, this is only logical. For it can only be an effective sign and instrument of salvation if it does everything in its power to be just and liberating within the framework of humanity - and therefore also in terms of power.
