In most walks of life, we need back-up: e.g. reaching agreement in a
family about some proposal; winning support at work for a new idea;
welcoming a helpful word or a shoulder to lean on at a time of crisis;
in sport, as in cricket: backing-up at the wicket to prevent an
overthrow; and, of course, in the world of computers, making a back-up
copy of files gives new meaning to the phrase "Jesus saves"!
In the
Church too, the sacraments back up the living-out of our Christian
calling. Indeed, the Eucharist is not just a back-up for something else;
it is the very means of receiving the Lord fully into our lives. It is
the major part of a priest's ministry, in which he brings the Lord to
others. It is the summit of our prayer and worship as priests.
The ministerial priesthood functions amid today's frenetic reality. What we are doing today can seem to some a bit out of touch with reality. To some, the priesthood appears to be a bit remote from the physical and moral difficulties of ordinary lives. Yet, as priests, we are to step into a new space, the space of the transcendent, of otherness. For, we are signed by a special character and - conformed to Christ the priest. We need to see beyond the priesthood, and delve more deeply into it, because it is our call to priesthood that has to change people's lives.
The ministerial priesthood functions amid today's frenetic reality. What we are doing today can seem to some a bit out of touch with reality. To some, the priesthood appears to be a bit remote from the physical and moral difficulties of ordinary lives. Yet, as priests, we are to step into a new space, the space of the transcendent, of otherness. For, we are signed by a special character and - conformed to Christ the priest. We need to see beyond the priesthood, and delve more deeply into it, because it is our call to priesthood that has to change people's lives.
The transcendent demand needs ratification, so that the Priesthood is
recognised as that group of men, anointed by Christ to stand in that
daunting space, to gather the rest of God's people around that space,
and to underwrite the presence of that holy space as near and accessible
to each one of us.
This "other" space will provide a bridge between
this world and the next, between what we are and what we shall be. So,
by our ordination, we are anointed, to be Christ-like, to bring others
to that goal of human history and that focal point to which the desires
of humanity aim: Christ himself.
We are called to a ministry of
preaching and healing, to make people whole again, ready and willing to
meet the Lord when he calls, to be there when others need us most. This
requires us to develop our inner wellbeing; our generosity; our
selflessness; our desire to give and encourage forgiveness in others by
our word and example, and most of all by our generosity of service. We
are called to have the strength and courage to contradict the ways of
the world.
And to do all this, we cannot do it alone. There is another aspect of priesthood that complements the ordained priesthood. It is the priesthood of the laity. It is the priesthood conferred on all who are baptised.
And to do all this, we cannot do it alone. There is another aspect of priesthood that complements the ordained priesthood. It is the priesthood of the laity. It is the priesthood conferred on all who are baptised.
Yet, there is only one priesthood of Christ, within
which there is a diversity of kind and function. It is the role of the
ministerial priesthood to bring to its full exercise - and to its full
expression - the priesthood of the entire body of Christ, in which all
share in different degrees. And to remember, every ordained priest comes
from among the laity in the first place.
It is difficult to convey what it means to say, for the first time, the words of consecration at Mass, and to realise that it is the first person singular - I - that we are using. It is my voice, my hands, my mind, that are engaged in this tremendous act which is central to the Eucharist, in which Christ is made present through my person. How could anyone in the priesthood ever have abused that anointing deliberately and repeatedly, not just in a single, one-off moment of immaturity or indiscretion immediately regretted, but by knowing and planning habitually, without remorse or regret, what they were doing?
It's ironic that the Year of the Ordained Priest began as the Year of the Abused Victim.
It is difficult to convey what it means to say, for the first time, the words of consecration at Mass, and to realise that it is the first person singular - I - that we are using. It is my voice, my hands, my mind, that are engaged in this tremendous act which is central to the Eucharist, in which Christ is made present through my person. How could anyone in the priesthood ever have abused that anointing deliberately and repeatedly, not just in a single, one-off moment of immaturity or indiscretion immediately regretted, but by knowing and planning habitually, without remorse or regret, what they were doing?
It's ironic that the Year of the Ordained Priest began as the Year of the Abused Victim.
During this past year we have made no excuses, for there
are none to make. The lapses and the offences of the few, who make up no
more than a half of one percent of all clergy, have sadly damaged also
the many. It's been a year when society has called into question the
integrity of politicians and their expenses, financiers and their
bonuses, and not least of all priests and their assaults on the innocent
and vulnerable. All these groups have been guilty of betraying trust.
All have been convinced of their own self-righteousness, almost their
entitlement to do these things, their conviction that they were doing no
wrong.
For priests who offended, I'm not sure that their abuses grew out of the rule of celibacy; abuse happens within otherwise good families too. I'm more convinced that it grew out of the clericalism of the past. That clericalism risks raising its head today among those who again are looking for identity in status, not service. They want to be treated differently. There are those who set high standards of morality for lay people, while they blatantly violate those same standards themselves. There are those who go to extremes to express the Mass in a particular way, whether it is in the Ordinary Form or Extraordinary Form, in a so-called Vatican II rite or Tridentine Rile, through the "People's Mass" or the "Priest's Mass".
For priests who offended, I'm not sure that their abuses grew out of the rule of celibacy; abuse happens within otherwise good families too. I'm more convinced that it grew out of the clericalism of the past. That clericalism risks raising its head today among those who again are looking for identity in status, not service. They want to be treated differently. There are those who set high standards of morality for lay people, while they blatantly violate those same standards themselves. There are those who go to extremes to express the Mass in a particular way, whether it is in the Ordinary Form or Extraordinary Form, in a so-called Vatican II rite or Tridentine Rile, through the "People's Mass" or the "Priest's Mass".
Some want to put the priest on a
pedestal, whilst the people are consigned to be privileged spectators
outside the rails. Flamboyant modes of liturgical vestments and rubrical
gestures abound. Women are denied all ministries at Mass: doing the
readings, the serving, the bidding prayers, and taking Communion to the
sick. To many in our Church and beyond, this comes across as
triumphalism and male domination. This clericalism conceals the fact
that the Church as an institution has often acted in collusion with what
I can only regard as structural sinfulness. It has paid dearly for it
and is untrue to its humble founder, Jesus Christ.
This underlying culture of clericalism has to end and never happen again. In addition, where there have been victims of it, they merit our individual and collective expression of sorrow, without reservation, plus our promise of listening and healing, and our assurance of support. These are openly given.
This underlying culture of clericalism has to end and never happen again. In addition, where there have been victims of it, they merit our individual and collective expression of sorrow, without reservation, plus our promise of listening and healing, and our assurance of support. These are openly given.
Accompanying all this is a deeper truth without which
life would be just too hard to live. It is the truth that there is a
deeper power at work below the surface of our human failings and our
uncertainties. The strength of the priesthood, exercised by some 99 per
cent of the clergy, lies in the daily sacrifice of self in the service
of the Lord, in making him known, in a Church that all of us love and
that does so much, good.
We can only glimpse a horizon beyond which so
little is known this side of eternity. Here, earthy symphonies will
always remain unfinished. And we want a priest to ease us out of this
world, who anoints and forgives us, to speed us on our journey into the
next.
Together, whether you are ministerial priest or baptised priest, you are all called to be a dynamic force in the Church. You, the ordained, have to realise the power for good that you have and thus exercise your God-given gifts. None of you can measure the good that you do.
Together, whether you are ministerial priest or baptised priest, you are all called to be a dynamic force in the Church. You, the ordained, have to realise the power for good that you have and thus exercise your God-given gifts. None of you can measure the good that you do.
Most of it is hidden.
It is rarely publicised, and because of its
personal and confidential nature it cannot be shouted from the
roof-tops. It is known to the individual who has benefited. It is known
to the Lord himself. Whereas everything else can be taken away from you,
even your reason can diminish or disappear, no-one can take away your
priesthood. You are a priest forever. Cherish that.
You, the laity, and
us, the ordained, have been given a dynamic force to be Christ and to
make Christ present in this world, today and for as long as we are
alive.
Sometimes we need to pray as Pope John XXIII did one night he
knelt by his bedside, tired and frustrated at the end of a long day.
He
said: "It's your Church, Lord. Get on with it!"
Amen.
SIC: TT/UK