Vatican City, 2 April 2015 (VIS) – At
9.30 this morning, in St. Peter's Basilica, Pope Francis presided at
the Chrism Mass, the liturgy celebrated today, Holy Thursday, in all
cathedral churches. The cardinals, bishops and priests (diocesan and
religious) present in Rome concelebrated with the Holy Father.
During the Eucharistic celebration, the
priests renewed the vows made during their ordination. The oil used
to anoint the sick and catechumens, and the Chrism, were then
blessed.
“'My hand shall ever abide with him,
my arms also shall strengthen him'. This is what the Lord means when
he says: 'I have found David, my servant; with my holy oil I have
anointed him'. It is also what our Father thinks whenever he
'encounters' a priest. And he goes on to say: 'My faithfulness and my
steadfast love shall be with him. He shall cry to me, “You are my
Father, my God and the rock of my salvation”'.
“It is good to enter with the
Psalmist into this monologue of our God. He is talking about us, his
priests, his pastors. But it is not really a monologue, since he is
not the only one speaking. The Father says to Jesus: 'Your friends,
those who love you, can say to me in a particular way: “You are my
Father”'. If the Lord is so concerned about helping us, it is
because he knows that the task of anointing his faithful people is
not easy, it is demanding; it can tire us. We experience this in so
many ways: from the ordinary fatigue brought on by our daily
apostolate to the weariness of sickness, death and even martyrdom.
“The tiredness of priests! Do you
know how often I think about this weariness which all of you
experience? I think about it and I pray about it, often, especially
when I am tired myself. I pray for you as you labour amid the people
of God entrusted to your care, many of you in lonely and dangerous
places. Our weariness, dear priests, is like incense which silently
rises up to heaven. Our weariness goes straight to the heart of the
Father.
“Know that the Blessed Virgin Mary is
well aware of this tiredness and she brings it straight to the Lord.
As our Mother, she knows when her children are weary, and this is her
greatest concern. 'Welcome! Rest, my child. We will speak
afterwards'. 'Whenever we draw near to her, she says to us: 'Am I not
here with you, I who am your Mother?'. And to her Son she will say,
as she did at Cana, 'They have no wine'.
“It can also happen that, whenever we
feel weighed down by pastoral work, we can be tempted to rest however
we please, as if rest were not itself a gift of God. We must not fall
into this temptation. Our weariness is precious in the eyes of Jesus
who embraces us and lifts us up. 'Come to me, all who labour and are
overburdened, and I will give you rest'. “Whenever a priest feels
dead tired, yet is able to bow down in adoration and say: 'Enough for
today Lord', and entrust himself to the Father, he knows that he will
not fall but be renewed. The one who anoints God’s faithful people
with oil is also himself anointed by the Lord: 'He gives you a
garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit'.
“Let us never forget that a key to
fruitful priestly ministry lies in how we rest and in how we look at
the way the Lord deals with our weariness. How difficult it is to
learn how to rest! This says much about our trust and our ability to
realise that that we too are sheep: we need the help of the Shepherd.
A few questions can help us in this regard.
“Do I know how to rest by accepting
the love, gratitude and affection which I receive from God’s
faithful people? Or, once my pastoral work is done, do I seek more
refined relaxations, not those of the poor but those provided by a
consumerist society? Is the Holy Spirit truly 'rest in times of
weariness' for me, or is he just someone who keeps me busy? Do I know
how to seek help from a wise priest? Do I know how to take a break
from myself, from the demands I make on myself, from my self-seeking
and from my self-absorption? Do I know how to spend time with Jesus,
with the Father, with the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, with my patron
saints, and to find rest in their demands, which are easy and light,
and in their pleasures, for they delight to be in my company, and in
their concerns and standards, which have only to do with the greater
glory of God? Do I know how to rest from my enemies under the Lord’s
protection? Am I preoccupied with how I should speak and act, or do I
entrust myself to the Holy Spirit, who will teach me what I need to
say in every situation? Do I worry needlessly, or, like Paul, do I
find repose by saying: 'I know him in whom I have placed my trust'?
“Let us return for a moment to what
today’s liturgy describes as the work of the priest: to bring good
news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to prisoners and healing to the
blind, to offer liberation to the downtrodden and to announce the
year of the Lord’s favour. Isaiah also mentions consoling the
broken-hearted and comforting the afflicted.
“These are not easy or purely
mechanical jobs, like running an office, building a parish hall or
laying out a soccer field for the young of the parish. The tasks of
which Jesus speaks call for the ability to show compassion; our
hearts are to be 'moved' and fully engaged in carrying them out. We
are to rejoice with couples who marry; we are to laugh with the
children brought to the baptismal font; we are to accompany young
fiancés and families; we are to suffer with those who receive the
anointing of the sick in their hospital beds; we are to mourn with
those burying a loved one. All these emotions, if we do not have an
open heart, can exhaust the heart of a shepherd. For us priests, what
happens in the lives of our people is not like a news bulletin: we
know our people, we sense what is going on in their hearts. Our own
heart, sharing in their suffering, feels 'com-passion', is exhausted,
broken into a thousand pieces, moved and even 'consumed' by the
people. Take this, eat this. These are the words the priest of Jesus
whispers repeatedly while caring for his faithful people: Take this,
eat this; take this, drink this… In this way our priestly life is
given over in service, in closeness to the People of God, and this
always leaves us weary.
“I wish to share with you some forms
of weariness on which I have meditated. There is what we can call
'the weariness of people, the weariness of the crowd'. For the Lord,
and for us, this can be exhausting – so the Gospel tells us – yet
it is a good weariness, a fruitful and joyful exhaustion. The people
who followed Jesus, the families which brought their children to him
to be blessed, those who had been cured, those who came with their
friends, the young people who were so excited about the Master, they
did not even leave him time to eat. But the Lord never tired of being
with people. On the contrary, he seemed renewed by their presence.
This weariness in the midst of activity is a grace on which all
priests can draw. And how beautiful it is! People love their priests,
they want and need their shepherds! The faithful never leave us
without something to do, unless we hide in our offices or go out in
our cars wearing sunglasses. There is a good and healthy tiredness.
It is the exhaustion of the priest who wears the smell of the sheep,
but also smiles the smile of a father rejoicing in his children or
grandchildren. It has nothing to do with those who wear expensive
cologne and who look at others from afar and from above. We are the
friends of the Bridegroom: this is our joy. If Jesus is shepherding
the flock in our midst, we cannot be shepherds who are glum,
plaintive or, even worse, bored. The smell of the sheep and the smile
of a father. Weary, yes, but with the joy of those who hear the Lord
saying: 'Come, O blessed of my Father'.
“There is also the kind of weariness
which we can call 'the weariness of enemies'. The devil and his
minions never sleep and, since their ears cannot bear to hear the
word of God, they work tirelessly to silence that word and to distort
it. Confronting them is more wearying. It involves not only doing
good, with all the exertion this entails, but also defending the
flock and oneself from evil. The evil one is far more astute than we
are, and he is able to demolish in a moment what it took us years of
patience to build up. Here we need to implore the grace to learn how
to 'offset' (and it is an important habit to acquire): to thwart
evil without pulling up the good wheat, or presuming to protect like
supermen what the Lord alone can protect. All this helps us not to
let our guard down before the depths of iniquity, before the mockery
of the wicked. In these situations of weariness, the Lord says to us:
'Have courage! I have overcome the world!'. The Word of God gives us
strength.
“And finally – I say finally lest
you be too wearied by this homily itself! – there is also
'weariness of ourselves'. This may be the most dangerous weariness of
all. That is because the other two kinds come from being exposed,
from going out of ourselves to anoint and to do battle (for our job
is to care for others). But this third kind of weariness is more
'self-referential': it is dissatisfaction with oneself, but not the
dissatisfaction of someone who directly confronts himself and
serenely acknowledges his sinfulness and his need for God’s mercy,
His help; such people ask for help and then move forward. Here we are
speaking of a weariness associated with 'wanting yet not wanting',
having given up everything but continuing to yearn for the fleshpots
of Egypt, toying with the illusion of being something different. I
like to call this kind of weariness 'flirting with spiritual
worldliness'. When we are alone, we realise how many areas of our
life are steeped in this worldliness, so much so that we may feel
that it can never be completely washed away. This can be a dangerous
kind of weariness. The Book of Revelation shows us the reason for
this weariness: 'You have borne up for my sake and you have not grown
weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love
you had at first'. Only love gives true rest. What is not loved
becomes tiresome, and in time, brings about a harmful weariness.
“The most profound and mysterious
image of how the Lord deals with our pastoral tiredness is that,
'having loved his own, he loved them to the end': the scene of his
washing the feet of his disciples. I like to think of this as the
cleansing of discipleship. The Lord purifies the path of discipleship
itself. He 'gets involved' with us, becomes personally responsible
for removing every stain, all that grimy, worldly smog which clings
to us from the journey we make in his name.
“From our feet, we can tell how the
rest of our body is doing. The way we follow the Lord reveals how our
heart is faring. The wounds on our feet, our sprains and our
weariness, are signs of how we have followed Him, of the paths we
have taken in seeking the lost sheep and in leading the flock to
green pastures and still waters. The Lord washes us and cleanses us
of all the dirt our feet have accumulated in following Him. This is
something holy. Do not let your feet remain dirty. Like battle
wounds, the Lord kisses them and washes away the grime of our
labours.
“Our discipleship itself is cleansed
by Jesus, so that we can rightly feel 'joyful', 'fulfilled', 'free of
fear and guilt', and impelled to go out 'even to the ends of the
earth, to every periphery'. In this way we can bring the good news to
the most abandoned, knowing that 'He is with us always, even to the
end of the world'. And please, let us ask for the grace to learn how
to be weary, but weary in the best of ways!”.
