Vatican City, 17 April 2014 (VIS) –
At 9.30 this morning, in the Vatican Basilica, Pope Francis presided
over the Holy Chrism Mass which is celebrated today, Holy Thursday,
in all Cathedral Churches throughout the world. The Holy Father
concelebrated with the Cardinals, Bishops and priests (diocesan and
religious) present in Rome. During the Eucharistic celebration, the
priests renewed the vows they made on the day of their ordination;
the oils used for catechumens, to anoint the sick, and for
confirmation were then blessed. Following the Gospel reading, the
Pope pronounced the following homily:
“In the eternal 'today' of Holy
Thursday, when Christ showed his love for us to the end, we recall
the happy day of the institution of the priesthood, as well as the
day of our own priestly ordination. The Lord anointed us in Christ
with the oil of gladness, and this anointing invites us to accept and
appreciate this great gift: the gladness, the joy of being a priest.
Priestly joy is a priceless treasure, not only for the priest himself
but for the entire faithful people of God: that faithful people from
which he is called to be anointed and which he, in turn, is sent to
anoint.
Anointed with the oil of gladness so as
to anoint others with the oil of gladness. Priestly joy has its
source in the Father’s love, and the Lord wishes the joy of this
Love to be 'ours' and to be 'complete'. I like to reflect on joy by
contemplating Our Lady, for Mary, the 'Mother of the living Gospel,
is a wellspring of joy for God’s little ones'. I do not think it is
an exaggeration to say that the priest is very little indeed: the
incomparable grandeur of the gift granted us for the ministry sets us
among the least of men. The priest is the poorest of men unless Jesus
enriches him by his poverty, the most useless of servants unless
Jesus calls him his friend, the most ignorant of men unless Jesus
patiently teaches him as he did Peter, the frailest of Christians
unless the Good Shepherd strengthens him in the midst of the flock.
No one is more 'little' than a priest left to his own devices; and so
our prayer of protection against every snare of the Evil One is the
prayer of our Mother: I am a priest because he has regarded my
littleness. And in that littleness we find our joy. Joy in our
littleness!
For me, there are three significant
features of our priestly joy. It is a joy which anoints us (not one
which 'greases' us, making us unctuous, sumptuous and presumptuous),
it is a joy which is imperishable and it is a missionary joy which
spreads and attracts, starting backwards – with those farthest away
from us.
A joy which anoints us. In a word: it
has penetrated deep within our hearts, it has shaped them and
strengthened them sacramentally. The signs of the ordination liturgy
speak to us of the Church’s maternal desire to pass on and share
with others all that the Lord has given us: the laying on of hands,
the anointing with sacred chrism, the clothing with sacred vestments,
the first consecration which immediately follows … Grace fills us
to the brim and overflows, fully, abundantly and entirely in each
priest. We are anointed down to our very bones … and our joy, which
wells up from deep within, is the echo of this anointing.
An imperishable joy. The fullness of
the Gift, which no one can take away or increase, is an unfailing
source of joy: an imperishable joy which the Lord has promised no one
can take from us. It can lie dormant, or be clogged by sin or by
life’s troubles, yet deep down it remains intact, like the embers
of a burnt log beneath the ashes, and it can always be renewed.
Paul’s exhortation to Timothy remains ever timely: I remind you to
fan into flame the gift of God that is within you through the laying
on of my hands.
A missionary joy. I would like
especially to share with you and to stress this third feature:
priestly joy is deeply bound up with God’s holy and faithful
people, for it is an eminently missionary joy. Our anointing is meant
for anointing God’s holy and faithful people: for baptising and
confirming them, healing and sanctifying them, blessing, comforting
and evangelising them.
And since this joy is one which only
springs up when the shepherd is in the midst of his flock (for even
in the silence of his prayer, the shepherd who worships the Father is
with his sheep), it is a 'guarded joy', watched over by the flock
itself. Even in those gloomy moments when everything looks dark and a
feeling of isolation takes hold of us, in those moments of
listlessness and boredom which at times overcome us in our priestly
life (and which I too have experienced), even in those moments God’s
people are able to 'guard' that joy; they are able to protect you, to
embrace you and to help you open your heart to find renewed joy.
A 'guarded joy': one guarded by the
flock but also guarded by three sisters who surround it, tend it and
defend it: sister poverty, sister fidelity and sister obedience.
The joy of priests is a joy which is
sister to poverty. The priest is poor in terms of purely human joy.
He has given up so much! And because he is poor, he, who gives so
much to others, has to seek his joy from the Lord and from God’s
faithful people. He doesn’t need to try to create it for himself.
We know that our people are very generous in thanking priests for
their slightest blessing and especially for the sacraments. Many
people, in speaking of the crisis of priestly identity, fail to
realise that identity presupposes belonging. There is no identity –
and consequently joy of life – without an active and unwavering
sense of belonging to God’s faithful people. The priest who tries
to find his priestly identity by soul-searching and introspection may
well encounter nothing more than 'exit' signs, signs that say: exit
from yourself, exit to seek God in adoration, go out and give your
people what was entrusted to you, for your people will make you feel
and taste who you are, what your name is, what your identity is, and
they will make you rejoice in that hundredfold which the Lord has
promised to those who serve him. Unless you 'exit' from yourself, the
oil grows rancid and the anointing cannot be fruitful. Going out from
ourselves presupposes self-denial; it means poverty.
Priestly joy is a joy which is sister
to fidelity. Not primarily in the sense that we are all 'immaculate'
(would that by God’s grace we were!), for we are sinners, but in
the sense of an ever renewed fidelity to the one Bride, to the
Church. Here fruitfulness is key. The spiritual children which the
Lord gives each priest, the children he has baptised, the families he
has blessed and helped on their way, the sick he has comforted, the
young people he catechises and helps to grow, the poor he assists…
all these are the 'Bride' whom he rejoices to treat as his supreme
and only love and to whom he is constantly faithful. It is the living
Church, with a first name and a last name, which the priest shepherds
in his parish or in the mission entrusted to him. That mission brings
him joy whenever he is faithful to it, whenever he does all that he
has to do and lets go of everything that he has to let go of, as long
as he stands firm amid the flock which the Lord has entrusted to him:
Feed my sheep.
Priestly joy is a joy which is sister
to obedience. An obedience to the Church in the hierarchy which gives
us, as it were, not simply the external framework for our obedience:
the parish to which I am sent, my ministerial assignments, my
particular work … but also union with God the Father, the source of
all fatherhood. It is likewise an obedience to the Church in service:
in availability and readiness to serve everyone, always and as best I
can, following the example of 'Our Lady of Promptness' who hastens to
serve Elizabeth her kinswoman and is concerned for the kitchen of
Cana when the wine runs out. The availability of her priests makes
the Church a house with open doors, a refuge for sinners, a home for
people living on the streets, a place of loving care for the sick, a
camp for the young, a classroom for catechising children about to
make their First Communion… Wherever God’s people have desires or
needs, there is the priest, who knows how to listen (ob-audire) and
feels a loving mandate from Christ who sends him to relieve that need
with mercy or to encourage those good desires with resourceful
charity.
All who are called should know that
genuine and complete joy does exist in this world: it is the joy of
being taken from the people we love and then being sent back to them
as dispensers of the gifts and counsels of Jesus, the one Good
Shepherd who, with deep compassion for all the little ones and the
outcasts of this earth, wearied and oppressed like sheep without a
shepherd, wants to associate many others to his ministry, so as
himself to remain with us and to work, in the person of his priests,
for the good of his people.
On this Holy Thursday, I ask the Lord
Jesus to enable many young people to discover that burning zeal which
joy kindles in our hearts as soon as we have the stroke of boldness
needed to respond willingly to his call.
On this Holy Thursday, I ask the Lord
Jesus to preserve the joy sparkling in the eyes of the recently
ordained who go forth to devour the world, to spend themselves fully
in the midst of God's faithful people, rejoicing as they prepare
their first homily, their first Mass, their first Baptism, their
first confession… It is the joy of being able to share with wonder,
and for the first time as God’s anointed, the treasure of the
Gospel and to feel the faithful people anointing you again and in yet
another way: by their requests, by bowing their heads for your
blessing, by taking your hands, by bringing you their children, by
pleading for their sick… Preserve, Lord, in your young priests the
joy of going forth, of doing everything as if for the first time, the
joy of spending their lives fully for you.
On this Thursday of the priesthood, I
ask the Lord Jesus to confirm the priestly joy of those who have
already ministered for some years. The joy which, without leaving
their eyes, is also found on the shoulders of those who bear the
burden of the ministry, those priests who, having experienced the
labours of the apostolate, gather their strength and rearm
themselves: 'get a second wind', as the athletes say. Lord, preserve
the depth, wisdom and maturity of the joy felt by these older
priests. May they be able to pray with Nehemiah: 'the joy of the Lord
is my strength'.
Finally, on this Thursday of the
priesthood, I ask the Lord Jesus to make better known the joy of
elderly priests, whether healthy or infirm. It is the joy of the
Cross, which springs from the knowledge that we possess an
imperishable treasure in perishable earthen vessels. May these
priests find happiness wherever they are; may they experience
already, in the passage of the years, a taste of eternity (Guardini).
May they know, Lord, the joy of handing on the torch, the joy of
seeing new generations of their spiritual children, and of hailing
the promises from afar, smiling and at peace, in that hope which does
not disappoint”.
