Tuesday 31st Week Year II
Priests’ Convocation Archdiocese of Baltimore
November 5th, 2024
Taking to Heart Familiar Words
We often encounter St. Paul’s beautiful hymn, praising Christ, the Father’s eternal Son, who emptied himself, who became one of us, and assuming our humble flesh, laid down his life on the Cross in obedience to the Father’s saving will.
The words of this hymn are embedded in our memory. We encounter this hymn in the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharistic Liturgy. Its verses find their way into our homilies. They are part of our repertoire. They are also at the heart of our lives as priests. Today, the Lord, gazing at us in love, invites us to look at this hymn anew, to take it to heart, to see its centrality in our life and ministry.
Re-Producing This Hymn
Scripture often instructs us to make of our lives “a living sacrifice of praise”. Our lives, for all their ups and downs, twists and turns, are to constitute a hymn of praise, a hymn of thanksgiving, a hymn of adoration to the God who made us, the God who redeemed us, the God who called us into his service. We meditate on a hymn because we want to become a hymn, a hymn of praise.
We read how the Son of God did not cling to his equality with God, how he emptied himself and took the form of a slave. Reflecting on those words, we hear echoes of our ordination. In the graces of Holy Orders, we were urged configure ourselves to the Christ who came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life in love. As priests, we sincerely try to root out of our lives all forms of clericalism, any sense of privilege, any sense of being above those we are called to serve. On the contrary, we recognize that the priesthood we have embraced calls us continually to empty ourselves, constantly to give of ourselves, and even, in a sense, to be at the beck and call of those we serve. This is challenging, difficult, often it seems impossible. It’s so easy to suffer burn out and yes, we must take of ourselves! But the cornerstone of our gift of self, the One who makes it possible is the One whose priesthood we share, Jesus, our Great High Priest.
St. Paul’s hymn praises the Christ “who was found in human appearance”, the Son of God who assumed our humanity, “like us in all things but sin.” Tertullian left us the famous saying, “the flesh is the hinge of our salvation” – and indeed, the flesh, the humanity of Christ, is the great sacrament. Our humanity too is caught up in the priesthood of Christ that we share in, and in the exercise of our ministry, it is there for all too see – our gifts and virtues as well as our limitations and failings. Somehow, the glory of God pouring from the wounds of Christ, pours also from our wounds, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. Meditating on this hymn, we ask the Holy Spirit continually to purify us, continually to make our humanity an ever clearer sign of Christ’s love.
As St. Paul goes on to exalt Christ’s obedience to the Father’s will in laying down his life on the Cross for us and for our salvation, we think of what it is we do at the altar day after day and Sunday after Sunday. In the power of the Holy Spirit, we make present again the One Sacrifice that can heal the disobedience of sin, the One Sacrifice that has brought salvation to the world. We know only too well that offering the Eucharist is not something we do merely as professionals, as experts. It is something we do as servants, with humility, reverence, and joy as we seek to be conformed to the sacrifice we offer. For that is the hymn of praise the Lord wishes from us – not mere lip service, but “heart” service.
The hymn concludes with the exaltation of the Risen Lord, with the Father’s bestowing on him “the name above every other name”, and with the joyful praise and adoration of untold multitudes who bend the knee and confess with all their hearts, “Jesus Christ is Lord!” It is in this joy that we proclaim the Gospel, it is this joy we wish to share, not only with those whom we see at Mass, but also with those whom we no longer see and with those who are searching for something more.
The Great Banquet
St. Paul’s beautiful hymn unveils for us the substance of the banquet that you and I set before the People of God. It is the banquet of Christ’s sacrifice, the banquet that foretells and participates in the messianic banquet of heaven. As in the Gospel, many choose to absent themselves from it not because they are engaged in evil but because they are preoccupied. Indeed, today’s Gospel resonates with our experience.
Like the host in today’s Gospel, we can feel aggrieved by absentee Catholics who deem almost anything else more important than Sunday Mass – sports, catching up on rest, catching up on work, the weather is too bad, the weather is too nice . . . ! We can feel aggrieved because we pour ourselves into the celebration of Mass, we know how beautiful and important it is, it is at the heart of our existence. So what to do? We need to be like the host whom we meet in the Gospel, the one who sends co-workers into the highways and byways in search of those who might gather for the eucharistic banquet, including, as the Gospel says, ‘the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ Like the divine host we week to emulate, we have try again and again, without giving in to discouragement.
Dear brother priests, thank you for your life and ministry. Thank you for the daily burdens you shoulder, especially in these days. Thank you for so generously expending yourselves in service to God’s People. I am proud and grateful to serve, shoulder to shoulder with you and for you. May you daily experience the loving gaze of Jesus in who name and in whose person you so faithfully minister.