Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B
Amos 7.12-15 Psalm 85 Ephesians 1.3-14 Mark 6.7-13
Several years ago, a young priest from St. Louis was going to graduate school in Washington, DC. At Christmas time and during the summers while he was in school, he would drive back to his home in St. Louis, always stopping at the half-way point in Zanesville, Ohio, to stay in the rectory of one of the local parishes for the night. An elderly priest was pastor of this parish, and he and the young priest developed a friendly relationship over the years. On one of his visits, the young priest noticed how plain and simple the elderly pastor’s room was – he had one room in the rectory, which combined for a bedroom and study, consisting of a single closet, one bookshelf, a desk, a crucifix, a few pictures, a reading chair, and a lamp. The young priest was amazed at how simple it all was, and he asked the elderly pastor about it. He responded, “Well, if I walk down to your room all you’ve got is your suitcase!” “Well sure,” the young priest said, “but, after all, I’m, just passing through.” The response from the pastor: “Aren’t we all?”*
Just passing through. As the Year of St. Paul came to a conclusion, Pope Benedict inaugurated a new year: the Year for Priests. During this coming year, my hope is to occasionally preach about different aspects of the priesthood. On the one hand, these reflections may help us all to understand better what the ordained priesthood is all about. But on the other hand, I think they will also offer some wisdom and inspiration for living the Christian life in general, as members of the priesthood of all the baptized. Because really, the qualities and virtues that mark the priesthood are also qualities and virtues that all Christians should aspire to. And that is especially true for this first reflection on simplicity of life.
It may surprise some people that, as a diocesan priest, I have never taken a vow of poverty. Diocesan priests are those who serve primarily in parishes under the direction of a bishop. We are different from priests in religious orders – like the Franciscans or Benedictines – who do take vows of poverty. Sometimes, priests from religious orders also staff parishes, like the Conventual Franciscans who staff some of our local parishes. Priests in most religious orders do not own anything themselves – even their clothes and their books are the property of the community as a whole, not the individual priest. But diocesan priests are different. Our unique calling is to live in the world, among the people we serve. We do not take a vow of poverty, which means that we can and do own things. We own our clothes, our cars, our books and computers. We have checking and savings accounts and credit cards, like anyone else. We get a regular salary from the parish, with benefits including health insurance and mileage reimbursement – although it is a relatively modest salary, especially when compared to other professionals and even clergy in other denominations. And we pay income tax, like anyone else. When we take vacations, we pay for our own vacations out of our own money. When we want a new car, we buy that car with our own money. The parish we live in does provide housing and meals, but other than that we priests manage a personal budget like anyone else. And we also participate in parish stewardship just like we ask our parishioners to – a full ten percent of my personal income goes back to the parish, and I often give to other charities and religious organizations as well. We’re comfortable, we have everything we need, but we are certainly not wealthy. And money can consume a priest just like anyone else. There is no vow of poverty for us diocesan priests, but there is a promise: it’s called simplicity of life.
When priests are ordained, they promise to unite their lives “more closely every day to Christ the High Priest” (Rite of Ordination of a Priest 124). In other words, priests promise to be like Jesus Christ as much as possible. Priests look to Jesus as their model, the one who was born in a stable, who had no place to lay his head, who did not have a regular home and whose only possession was his tunic. Jesus instructed his disciple to live the same way he did when he sent them out – he told them to take nothing for the journey, no food, no sack, no money – just a tunic, sandals, and a walking stick. Now that is simplicity of life. Jesus recognized that too many possessions can divert our attention away from God. Too luxurious a lifestyle can make us think that material things can bring us happiness. But you don’t have to be rich to let your possessions rule you: being poor in material goods but consumed with a desire for riches is just as dangerous. Simplicity of life reminds us that we must trust in God’s providence to give us everything we need. Simplicity of life helps us to be in solidarity with the poor, locally and around the world. Simplicity of life teaches us that nothing we own will last forever – only God and God’s love is eternal. To be like Christ is to recognize that our possessions do not define us. To be like Christ is to live within our means, not building up debt and relying on credit. To be like Christ is to share what we have with others, to not be overly attached to the money or possessions we do have, whether great or small. To be like Christ is to live as if we are always just passing through. It means different things for different people, and not all of us do it well all the time. But if we want to be like Christ, then simplicity of life must be our goal. And it’s not just for priests; it is an example that all Christians are called to follow.
* As recorded in Timothy M. Dolan, Priests for the Third Millennium, Huntington, IN: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 2000, p. 185.
No comments:
Post a Comment