Tradition or Control? Five Scenes From ‘Created Equal’ That Force the Question

  • Created Equal’ follows Alejandra Batista’s fight to become a Catholic priest, taking the Church to court after being denied solely because she is a woman.
  • The film explores how tradition, history and internalised belief are used to defend male-only priesthood, even by those within the faith community.
  • Although Batista wins her legal case, the Church cannot be forced to ordain her, leaving a powerful question about equality, authority and who controls religious leadership.

The film tells the story of Alejandra Batista, a Catholic woman who takes the Church to court because she believes she is called to become a priest. Beneath the courtroom drama lies a deeper conversation about authority, tradition, and who gets to define God’s will.

One of the most revealing moments comes from Tommy’s (Batista’s lawyer) mother. She tells him she may never forgive him if he helps a woman become a priest.

Her reaction matters because resistance to women’s leadership does not always come only from men in power. It often comes from women who have grown up loving and protecting the very structures that exclude them. For many believers, the idea of a male priesthood feels woven into religion itself, and questioning it feels like shaking something sacred.

Why do some women feel safer preserving hierarchy than challenging it? What does that say about how deeply religious authority is internalised?

The Church’s argument rests on history. Jesus chose male apostles, and the priesthood follows that pattern.

History carries weight in every religious tradition, but history is never interpreted in isolation. Communities constantly decide which elements of the past are binding and which belong to a particular time. Cultural practices evolve. Administrative rules change. Interpretations deepen, but when it comes to women’s leadership, the appeal to history suddenly becomes immovable.

Are we protecting divine intention or inherited power?

Batista is attacked by a man who had also been denied entry into the seminary. He, too, had wanted the priesthood and was turned away. Yet his response takes a very different form. Instead of questioning the structure that excluded him, he directs his anger at a woman who is challenging it. A woman can become the easiest target for that frustration because the one who steps forward often becomes the target for this tension.

Why does a woman’s pursuit of leadership provoke such intensity? What fear is being activated when sacred roles are questioned?

A quiet shot of Batista in prayer, holding both faith and doubt in the same moment. Image Credit: YouTube

After being shot, Batista lies in bed and wonders whether her suffering is punishment for going against the Church. Challenging religious authority can feel like challenging God. That moment feels deeply human as it carries fear. When institutions position themselves as guardians of divine will, disagreement can feel spiritually dangerous. Many women hesitate long before they speak, because they carry the weight of that fear.

How often do women silence themselves because resistance feels spiritually dangerous? How many internal battles never reach a courtroom because doubt takes root first?

Batista wins her case in court, yet the Church cannot be forced to ordain her. The legal victory does not automatically open the altar.

Laws can acknowledge discrimination, but transformation within religious institutions moves differently. Reform cannot simply be imposed from outside. It must be wrestled within communities of faith. The film leaves us with a pressing question for our own contexts.

If religious traditions affirm that all are created equal,  why does it disappear when leadership is discussed?