There is a certain reluctance among contemporary Christians to speak of women's gifts', because this has connotations of men possessing the higher gifts and women the lower. 'Complementarity' is a suspect word! (A Fearful Symetry, a symposium, .SPCK, London 1992). Yet I believe that the gifts which each sex possesses are both equal and to a certain extent different, and that a certain malaise in contemporary Orthodoxy is caused by failure to adequately use the gifts of women.

The degree to which the role of laywomen can be extended must inevitably vary greatly with the cultural and historical circumstances of different countries and jurisdictions. I am limiting my terms of reference to the situation in the British Isles, and mainly to the Greek and Russian Patriarchal jurisdictions, as these are the most ready to combine fresh thinking with fidelity to Tradition.

We have roughly 150 clergy (including all jurisdictions, in these islands, very unevenly distributed, and with a heavy concentration in central Southern England: Scotland has only two resident priests, and Ireland just one. Only too easily Orthodox (sometimes devout) can be isolated from the Church, unable to travel through poverty, sickness or old age, or cut off through lack of education and language/communication problems. Very many of the clergy have to support themselves and their families by full-time secular jobs, and in outlying areas it is seemingly impossible for them to meet the sacramental and pastoral needs of their flocks.

In the Early Church there was a diversity of eucharistic practice, and not uncommonly the laity took home the consecrated elements from the Eucharist to give themselves communion daily. They in fact received communion from the hands of a lay person, that is, their own hands. It may safely be assumed that they also gave communion to members of their households who were too frail or sick to handle the sacrament safely themselves.

This must surely have an application to those who are housebound by ill-health, and live so far from a priest that he is rarely, if ever, able to visit them. Members of the laity, of either sex, could be specially chosen and trained to take the reserved sacrament to these people. Might this principle also have application nearer home?

Let us think of an imaginary young woman who lives 40 miles from the nearest church and finds herself in hospital after an emergency hysterectomy for cancer. Obviously the priest should be able to take her communion at least once, but the distance is considerable, and much more support from the Church is needed. She is likely to be terrified by her condition, and may well have difficulty in talking about this to a priest, simply because he is a man. There seems to be a case for authorising a woman with counselling gifts, especially one who has herself had uterine or ovarian cancer, to take communion to her on occasions when the priest cannot do so.

Sadly, there are also situations where a child is dying. An unfamiliar, blackrobed, bearded figure can appear frightening to a tiny child who is mainly in the care of women. Some clergy are gifted at establishing rapport with children, others are not. If a priest has difficulties in this area, and the child lives at a considerable distance, it seems right to allow an appropriate woman to take communion to him/her.

The main difficulty (not applicable in the case of small children) appears to be the need to go to confession. Most adults, however, only make a confession to a priest from time to time: it would be unusual to do so every time one received communion, and a lay person might well administer communion on the other occasions.

There is a further point for theological consideration. The Western Church has always seen confession and anointing as two distinct and unconnected sacraments, but Orthodox tradition differs from this to quite a marked degree. Among Greeks, these two sacraments were to a large extent regarded as interchangeable channels of forgiveness and healing during the first millennium, and there seems no clear reason why this close association between confession and anointing largely fell away. It was entirely lost, moreover, since those who are anointed at the Service of Anointing on the eve of Great Thursday are not required to go to confession before Easter, though many choose to do so.

Many of the laity take oil from the anointing Service oil to members of the congregation who are unavoidably absent, and who then anoint themselves. From this it appears to follow that it would be appropriate for a lay person to carry oil for anointing when taking communion to a sick person. It may be seen as a partial substitute for the sacrament of confession, approximating to those occasions when a priest blesses individual people to receive communion because he has not time to hear their confessions before Liturgy. Confession to a priest, not anointing, would still remain the appropriate sacrament, where there was grave sin to be absolved.

I have known three devout Orthodox (and suspect there are very many more) who had Anglican funeral ceremonies because there was no Orthodox priest available to take a service. It would surely be more fitting for lay Orthodox, of either sex, to read appropriate prayers by the grave-side, and perhaps an address might sometimes be given. An element of flexibility exists over who may preach at Orthodox funerals: I have attended several (including that of an archbishop) at which Anglican clergy gave addresses. A funeral conducted by laity might therefore be an occasion where it would already be acceptable for a woman to preach.

The policy of Orthodoxy in the British Isles over the teaching role of women is strangely anomalous, seemingly as the result of conflicting cultural traditions. In certain respects the Church is remarkably enlightened and liberal in this area; we are encouraged to acquire theology degrees, to teach theology and religious studies in universities and schools, also to write, and to broadcast on Orthodox topics on television and radio. At parish level, by extreme contrast, we are restricted to teaching in Sunday School! We never preach, and I do not know of any woman who is authorised to instruct catechumens. Teaching at parish level has now become almost exclusively the province of the clergy, to a degree which in fact distorts Orthodox tradition.

There has been over the last quarter century a disquieting growth of clericalism in Orthodoxy in this country. Probably this development has multiple causes, of which I will suggest just two. Firstly, a large number of Anglicans in Britain have been received into the Orthodox Church and perhaps tended to bring their previous concept of the priesthood with them. Secondly, we live in times of profound spiritual and psychological turmoil, which often leads to acute feelings of insecurity, and a yearning for some authority figure who can give the answers to life's more intractable problems. Unfortunately these longings can rather easily cause one priest or another to be credited with almost superhuman wisdom and knowledge, even over such matters as unemployment, housing and family law! This lays a burden of impossible expectations on the priest, and is liable to cause chronic immaturity in a section of the laity.

In the West teaching has traditionally be seen as a charisma of the priesthood, and lay theologians - still extremely rare- were virtually unknown until very recently. By contrast, it is important to remember that the majority of Orthodox theologians (and also a great majority of monks) have always been members of the laity. Among Greeks there is a tradition of preaching by laymen which first grew up under Ottoman rule : indeed, until very recently the parish clergy in Greece were not usually licensed to preach unless they showed a particular aptitude for doing so. The situation has now radically changed, and sermons by laymen have become rare in that country. Probably it was necessary to redress the balance, but it would be a grievous loss if the teaching role of the laity were to be consequently obscured. Occasional sermons at the Liturgy by suitable laymen would probably do much in this country to counteract the present tendency to over-exalt the priesthood.

It also seems important that appropriate women should eventually preach, so that the congregation shall have the benefit of specifically feminine insights, and the women's interpretations of scholarship. There is, however, almost certainly no parish in the British Isles where a woman preacher at the Liturgy would at present be acceptable, but I believe the obstacles to be cultural. There is already a little precedent, as well as strong theological arguments, for in principle allowing women to preach. Mother Maria (Skobstova) of Paris (1892-1945) was authorised to preach at the end of the Liturgy by Metropolitan Evlogy (Georgiyevsky), Russian Exarch in Western Europe. This bishop was no innovator, and there seems to have been a remarkable lack of protest or excitement over the step, which strongly suggests that a handful of other Orthodox women were already preaching.

It is difficult to understand why we are nowadays without women catechists, since the instructions of female converts was one of the prime functions of deaconesses in the Early Church. The instruction of a catechumen often includes the discussion of fairly intimate matters, and the person may well feel exposed and vulnerable. Some may prefer instruction by a female catechist: in particular there are likely to be some women who feel better able than a male priest to empathise with a woman catechumen.. A rough parallel may be drawn with the preference which some people - of both sexes- have for a female doctor. By and large women probably have a greater talent than men for integrating people into a community, and thus have a particular advantage in helping the newcomer to find her feet in parish life, I certainly do not want to suggest that instruction by priests should be abolished, merely that catechumens might be presented with an alternative.

Each parish has its own identity and ethos : one or more of the above points might be appropriate for consideration in one parish, others in another. At present the Church reminds me of an orchestra which is failing to make proper use of it wind instruments The most perfect violin Stradivarius ever made cannot replace the sound of a flute!