25 Oct 2015
30th Sunday in Ordinary
Time, Year B
Whenever we come to celebrate the Mass, we enter into a world
of signs and symbols. Just about
everything has some deeper meaning behind it: the colors of the fabric, the candles,
the arrangement of the pews, the people, the windows, the music we sing, the
prayers. Everything about the Mass is
meant to help us make a connection between this world and the life of God.
And so, there should
be an “otherworldly” quality to our experience here. Mass isn’t just another thing to do; it’s
meant to open our lives up to something greater, and to let that “something
greater” we know as God to come down to raise us up. And as a reminder that there is something greater, we have the
priest. In the United States, Catholics
celebrate “Priesthood Sunday” today. And
it’s not so much a celebration of the person as it is a celebration of the
divine role of the priest.
For 400 years (from 1570-1970), when Mass was celebrated, the
priest stood at the altar—and sometimes he faced the altar, and sometimes he
faced the people. If he was speaking to
God on behalf of the people, he was facing the altar; and if he was speaking to
the people on behalf of God, he (obviously) would be facing the people. He was
always “back and forth” between the two.
Of course, that’s the role Jesus has: even today, Jesus our
High Priest is trying to reconnect—he’s trying to make a peaceful
reconciliation between—God the Father and humanity. Jesus prays to God on our behalf, and he also
turns to us to share the beauty, truth and goodness of God. And so, right here in the Mass, the priest is
a concrete sign (and a reminder) that Jesus is always at work; standing between
God and humanity, trying to reconnect the two.
That’s the divine role of the priest: to be a sign of Jesus
the High Priest, Jesus the Mediator, Jesus the Intercessor. Even though, today, the visible symbol of the
priest turning back and forth is mostly lost, the reality is still there. The priest is both the voice of Jesus the
Head and the voice of Christ’s Body, the Church, the people.
Now, as you know, whenever the priest says: “The Lord be with
you,” the response is, “And with your spirit.”
Of course, we used to respond: “And also with you.” But that translation of the Latin was changed
to recapture something of the divine role of the priest. To say, “And with your spirit,” means
something like: “May God be with that ordained spirit of yours so that you pray
well to God for us.”
The priest isn’t an entertainer; he’s not someone who tries
to capture our attention for an hour or so once a week. He’s a sign of Jesus the High Priest, who
stands between God and the people of God and tries to bring the two together;
the priest is a bridge. In Latin, a
bridge is a “pons,” and a priest is a “pontiff.” That’s why we call the pope the “supreme
pontiff;” he’s the main priest in this world.
He prays to God on behalf of the people, and he serves as a way the
Spirit and Life of God can be known to the people.
“The Lord be with you—and with your spirit,” is the people’s
prayer that the priest will minister well and that he’ll be an effective bridge
between God and the world. And so, the
priest is one of those “signs and symbols” we encounter in the Mass. He’s a sign (and a reminder) that there is something beyond what we can see and
touch and taste. His life and ministry
is a reminder that there is a greater
reality beyond what we experience in the day-to-day. The priest isn’t about himself—he’s about the
people, and he’s about God. He simply
bridges the two.
And so, in many ways, the priest is also a leader and a
prophet (because a major role of the prophets was to stand in between God and
the people and be a mediator between the two).
The prophet was someone who led the people from slavery to sin, and
opened the way to the Promised Land. Think
of Moses and the Exodus from Egypt.
Think of Jesus who died to free us from the weight of sin and who opened
the way to the possibility of a renewed life in God.
And, today, we hear of the Prophet Jeremiah and the ancient
Israelites’ freedom from Babylon. When
they were freed from the Assyrians and were finally able to return home to
Jerusalem, they sang for joy. The Lord and
his prophets broke down the Israelites’ captivity to misery and opened the way
for them to go back to that “greater reality;” back to Jerusalem, the desire of
their souls.
And that’s part of the divine role of the priest—to be a
prophet, to be someone who opens our eyes (and our minds, bodies, and spirits)
to the life, freedom, peace and joy God has in store for us. But the ministry of the priest (the ministry
of Jesus Christ the High Priest) is only effective if we realize that sometimes—a
lot of times—we can be like Bartimaeus.
The ministry of the priest becomes meaningful and effective when we
realize that we can be spiritually “blind” and that there’s more to life than
what we our senses tell us.
Jesus asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” And the priest asks the same question to the
people; whether it’s at Mass or outside.
You know, when I meet with someone at the parish here, or at their home
or in the hospital or nursing, one of the first questions I ask myself is:
“What does this person want?” Sometimes they
simply want some prayers and a blessing, and that’s enough to help them. Other times, a person may need to know that
somebody is actually listening to them and cares what happens to them. And sometimes a person needs to know that God
forgives them and that he really is a merciful and loving God; they need to encounter God.
Jesus asks—the priest asks—“What do you want me to do for
you?” And our answer is so very
important. Do we realize our own
spiritual blindness, like Bartimaeus?
Even we priests can be spiritual blind sometimes, and so we turn to our
spiritual directors to open our eyes some more.
Do we realize that we can be spiritual blind? If we do, then a priest can be that
bridge—then what a priest does or says at Mass or where we meet him will have
some value. If we can admit that we’re spiritually
blind, then we’ll be able to see through the mediation of the priest, through
the intercession and help of Christ our High Priest.
Then we’ll be able to rejoice like the Israelites who were
freed from captivity. We’ll be able to
be happy like Bartimaeus and say to Jesus for the rest of our lives: “Show me
more.” There’s always more of God to
see, there’s always more of that “greater reality” we call “life in Christ;”
there’s always more of that more fulfilling life we desire. There’s always more to see—if we admit that
we’re always a little bit blind.
The priest is here to help us see, to broader our horizons,
to open the way to something greater.
The priest is a bridge between what we know and what is possible for us
to experience in this life and the next.
The priest is one who brings God and people back together. And, importantly, the priest is one who helps
the people of God to be priests in their own way, according to the baptism.
In baptism, God makes us “a chosen people, a royal priesthood,
a holy nation” [1 Peter 2:9]; a nation of priests. Just as the priest prays to God on behalf of
the people of God, so the people of God pray to God on behalf of the whole
world. You know, every time you pray for
a friend (or an enemy) or somebody who needs God’s help and guidance in their
lives, you’re exercising your baptismal priesthood. We see this very clearly at every Mass during
the Prayers of the Faithful: “For the Church, we pray to the Lord: Lord, hear
our prayer.” “For the world, we pray to
the Lord: Lord, hear our prayer.” Lord
hear our prayer, Lord hear our prayer—that’s the prayer of a priestly people.
Or whenever we sacrifice our time or our possessions so that
others can experience a better life, we are acting as a priestly people. Of course, the idea of sacrifice and offering
is central to the priesthood; it’s central to our identity as Christians. That’s why the Eucharist holds a central
place in our worship of God. We worship
and adore the idea and the reality of sacrificial
love. It’s what a priestly people
aspire to live out in everyday life.
It’s the aspiration of the ordained priest, for sure: to be a
sign of Christ the High Priest who stands in the gap between God and humanity
and tries to bridge the two through sacrificial love. He tries to be a sign of Jesus, the definitive
Bridge between God and humanity, who continues to be with us and continues to
build us up into the People of God; a people released from captivity and on the
way to a better life today and forever.
“Priesthood Sunday” isn’t about celebrating Father
so-and-so. It’s about celebrating the
divine role of the priest; it’s about celebrating our great High Priest, Jesus
Christ, who gives his Body and Blood, who speaks his words in Scripture, and
who pours out the Holy Spirit—all to be a grace-filled bridge between this
world and that greater life we call “life with God.”
[But a priest doesn’t take this role upon himself. It’s as we hear in the Letter to the Hebrews:
“It was not Christ who glorified himself in becoming high priest, but rather
the one who said to him: You are my son: this day I have begotten you.” God the Father sent and anointed Jesus for
the task. And it’s no different
today. Priests are called into ministry.
In my own case, the idea of being a priest was just the flash
of an idea that God put into my head one day.
And I responded to that call.
Sometimes, the Holy Spirit works through other people. And so, it’s good to consider who among us
might have what it takes to be a priest.
Or, for that matter, a deacon or a religious brother or sister. Who among us might God be calling to consider
a life of ministry, service, and prayer?
Last weekend, there was a “Called By Name” flyer in the
bulletin. And this is a chance for you
to be the voice of God; it’s a chance to let a young man or woman know that you
think he or she might have a vocation to the priesthood, or the diaconate or
religious life. How it works is that you
write the name of the person down (and their contact info if you know it), and
then Fr D or myself will simply let them know that someone is thinking of
them.
There’s no pressure involved; it’s just the idea of planting
seeds and offering an encouraging word to our young men and women. Sometimes the Holy Spirit goes direct, and
sometimes he works through others.
Either way, the “Called By Name” program helps us to be the voice of the
Lord for others.
If you brought the little slip of paper from the flyer today,
you can simply put it in the collection basket as it goes around. Also, there’s a little box by the crucifixion
that says “Called By Name” on it. You
can put your suggestions in there today or anytime. God is always calling men and women to
brothers or sisters, deacons, or priests, and so the Called By Name box will
remain out there.]
On this Priesthood Sunday, we give thanks to Christ our High
Priest who lays down his life to be a bridge between us and God. And we ask him to send us more priests so
that we can have life . . . life in abundance today and forever.
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