The Flock that is Christ’s

Our parish priest, P. Marian Gruber of the Cistercian Stift Heiligenkreuz, leaves his flock in Trumau for a new assignment as prefect of a student residence in Alland. This he will do in addition to his current professorial post at the abbey’s center of higher studies, the Philosophisch-Theologische Hochschule Benedikt XVI.

Pater Marian after Mass on Sunday.

Such a change of watch occurs without ceremony: Pater Marian makes his quiet exit and P. Lukas Rüdiger, O.Cist. comes in. Pastors, we are told, are foot soldiers of the Kingdom, prompt to report for duty and prompt to be relieved from it. I see two reasons for this. First, and the more important, the flock that Jesus the Good Shepherd entrusts to them is his. Priestly zeal must look to the interests of his body, the Church, all for the greater glory of God, and not covet them for the purpose of self-aggrandizement. It would do us well to remember the words of John the Baptist, whose martyrdom we celebrate today, and make them our own: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn 3:30).

The congregation rapt in prayerful attention.

Secondly, the mission to which are called is beyond us and couldn’t be otherwise. Priests, both present and future, should realize that it is like filling in the shoes of, as a confessor puts it, “a poor father of a big family.” He must work tirelessly and yet rely completely on God. It is not too infrequent that we reach  a point in ministry when we are called to radical selflessness and loving surrender in imitation of the Crucified, who knew when it was all finished, “bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (Jn 19:30).

We cannot hold on to anything other than the priesthood, which teaches us about dying and letting go. On the cross, Jesus our “great high priest” (Heb 4:14) died and let go of his disciples for a little a while. Then after rising from the dead, he ascended into heaven and again let go of them, only this time, for a quite unknown duration. How harder could it get? But he promised to send his Spirit, whose coming changed everything for all of us down to our day.

Parishioners wishing our outgoing pastor well.

A true shepherd knows when the time has come to leave the care of his sheep to someone else. Probably, it will mean a different style, or following a different set of priorities, or the parish acquiring a different sort of 'personality,' but as long as God has not recalled his Spirit, it will also stay the same. Perhaps, your energies have already been sapped and the community could use a new impulse and major change is underway, but rest assured that the Holy Spirit remains. And whatever good you find or leave behind, know that he causes and sustains it.

A window in our dimly lit church.

My own pastoral experience confirms this, although in a more limited sense. When my Bishop sent me to teach at a high school, I got to play the role of a shepherd, or maybe even just a shepherd boy. But for that whole year of tending my sheep, all 154 of them, and geared up with my staff, sack and sling, I felt incomparable joy in being called upon to be a father to them. Most days were great, while some others glum and excruciatingly mundane, but I knew I had to be there for them. God wanted me there, and my fiat, though reluctant at first, was exceedingly rewarded!

But just as all good things in life must be set aside for better things in this life and the next, I soon packed and went my way. Could I have stayed? Most certainly. How are they getting on without me? Never better. And the thought finally hit home—it was Christ, not I.

High Madrid fever

“Friendship with Jesus will also lead you to bear witness to the faith wherever you are, even when it meets with rejection or indifference. We cannot encounter Christ and not want to make him known to others. So do not keep Christ to yourselves! Share with others the joy of your faith.”

Those were the parting words of the Holy Father for the over one million pilgrims gathered at Madrid’s Cuatro Vientos air base at the close of the World Youth Day 2011. Here, I would like to do just that—share my joy—wrought by the Spirit that hovered in that one big celebration of faith.

I.T.I. seminarians at the Mass with Pope Benedict XVI.

I was able to go to Madrid primarily because I had signed up with the YOUCAT press corps, by virtue of which I got much of the travel costs covered. I worked with 12 other people from different countries and our registration entitled us to three square meals a day and some modest lodgings. I stayed in a classroom with seven Polish priests with whom I managed to exchange nothing more than curious nods and a few curt phrases.

“Catch the atmosphere” were our marching orders. It practically meant any scoop we could get our hands on with our rather limited equipage. Our operations were far from smooth-sailing and it was often a test of patience—beginning with the smoldering heat, hard dealings over certain aspects of bureaucracy, schedules getting thrown off, etc. I saw how a magnificent event could turn into a nightmare full of foes and woes, so I pulled myself together and buckled down.

Once I had decided to shake off all reluctance and simply get out there, the days became difficult to keep track. They were like flashes of places and faces gone in the blink of an eye. But the experience has left a deep impression on me and my guess is that it would take a while to unpack, long after I have settled back in.

My first World Youth Day in pictures...
 

I arrived in Madrid just before midnight on Sunday, August 14, and not knowing where to lay my head, I found my way to IFEMA where I found a group of Filipinos who formed part of the 30,000 strong WYD volunteer brigade.

Volunteers' accommodations at IFEMA.

My job consisted mainly in interviewing people, taking pictures and writing articles. I had to capture the scenes and the spirit. What struck me was the whole city literally bursting with young people whose joy could hardly be contained.

Interviewing Dominicans about vocations.

Some YOUCAT co-workers.

Prelates taking an afternoon break.

Pilgrims in the subway.

An Italian group pausing for repast.

Singing priests prepare to welcome the Pope.

Pilgrims filling up the streets before WYD starts.

Besides work, the WYD was a great opportunity to meet friends, both old and new...

In good company: Legionary brothers.

Andrij Hlabse, S.J. with a pilgrim at the Vocations Café.

Hugo, a former volunteer in the Philippines (center).

Fellow R.C. co-worker Aidan McCann (leftmost).

Austrian pals Christian (right) and Stefan (left).

Old-time road team partner Fr. John Bullock, L.C.

The Nashville Dominican dynamos.

Fr. Eric Nielsen, L.C. from Manila.

Renowned theologian Fr. Robert Barron.

Gonzaga and Pepe whom I had met as kids.  

Fr. Louis-Marie Ariño-Durand, O.P.

Amigos para siempre

 

These days one can be lost in a sea of people and feel at ease chatting with a stranger-turned-neighbor because they experience an increased sense of fellowship, that is, of ‘catholicity’ or of belonging to the universal Church. Father Daniel Seward, CO, who comes with 29 pilgrims from his parish in Oxford, has affirmed that, “in a country where Catholics are so much a minority like England, it gives young people the sense that they’re not alone and that they can be confident and joyful in their faith.”

Father Seward giving an interview.

Indeed, cries of joy echo through subway trains and stations. The streets of Madrid have, of late, been filled with cheers and loud singing as different groups fly their colors. There have been plenty of opportunities, too, to make new friends, tell jokes and exchange souvenirs. And amidst outbursts of joy also come occasions for prayer and meaningful conversations. That countless priests are present, moreover, gives the pilgrims ready access to the sacraments and spiritual direction by which they may grow in friendship with Christ.

Friendship, it seems, is fostered during these festivities. As pilgrims are eager to let their guards down and join in the fun, they return to their homeland perhaps wishing that the same exuberance would be palpable in their parishes, schools and local communities. With little downtime and great variety in the programs, it may even be said that religious practice has never been as easy or enjoyable as at the World Youth Day. Many feel more united to Christ as well as more connected with the rest of humanity during this enormous international gathering, and that is simply what young people hope to cling to.

Archbishop Sartain at the Theology on Tap.

This is in some way a ‘mountaintop’ experience similar to the transfiguration of the Lord which Peter, James and John witnessed on Tabor and prompted them to say, ‘Let us stay here.’ Recalling this story from Matthew’s gospel, Most Rev. J. Peter Sartain, archbishop of Seattle, warns that it is a temptation to want things to be the way they are at the World Youth Day when one goes home. 

Sartain makes clear that Jesus firmly instructed the apostles not to tell anyone about that vision until they could see him suffer, die on the cross and rise from the dead and then witnessed the coming of the Holy Spirit. If these close associates of Jesus had held on to that experience alone, they would have felt that “either they have let God down or that Jesus have let them down” once the excitement had worn off. Knowing this, Jesus, for his part, constantly admonished, saying ‘Come, follow me.’

It is so with World Youth Day pilgrims when this spectacular event has already come and gone. They must remember that their friendship with Christ must continue to grow, for “we must recognize that Jesus whom I experience at the World Youth Day is the same Jesus who awaits me at home. And he’s inviting me to get to know him a little bit better.” If nothing else, God wants my friendship. God wants my love!

Confessions in different languages at the WYD.

Keeping our friendship with God requires that we be faithful to him, day in and day out, and only this can guarantee that our true friendship with others also endures. This means that we wholly give our hearts to God “who calls us into life that will bring us the deepest kind of satisfaction in this world is the Lord Jesus.” In him, we find brothers and sisters among the living on earth and with the saints in heaven in the communion of the triune God who is love.     

The Archbishop sends pilgrims with one of the best World Youth Day takeaways:  “What Jesus says to you and me, as we prepare to leave in a few days, is something very simple: He says, ‘Follow me. Go home and live the Gospel. Go home and get holy. Go home and learn of my mystery.’”

  

On the Priesthood

T

here are many ready answers to the question What is the priesthood? found in various catechisms as well as other standard Christian sources. But when it is posed to someone in pursuit of this high calling, the inquiry demands a response that is less a succinct formulation than it is relating one’s own purpose or sense of vocation and showing forth just what he is about. One cannot hazard a truthful answer without feeling the need to reflect further, to test for accuracy and to be reaffirmed in his conviction. After all, it is not a matter of standing outside looking in, but of faithfully “looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Heb 12:2).

Saint Paul says that “every high priest chosen from among men is appointed to act on behalf of men in relation to God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins” (Heb 5:1). The priesthood is an election, a state of being especially chosen to bring man closer to God by offering gifts and sacrifices. Today, ‘gifts’ and ‘sacrifices’ carry meanings that would cloud rather than clear our view. A gift can refer to something given with an expectation of return, sometimes a means for obtaining favors, or even a euphemism for currency of illicit exchange. Sacrifice, on the other hand, is often associated with pain and destruction that conflict with pleasure and well-being. Thus, it is no surprise that our society is suspicious of gifts and averse to anything that looks like sacrifice. So why even bother to relate with God, let alone become a priest?

We are all too familiar with this disfigured face of the priesthood so that many run from the ‘hound of heaven’ as if God were out to get them. Yet, when he is nowhere in sight, everybody goes out in search of him. Our age is certainly characterized by an ambivalence towards God, in which people—present company included—long for him and run away from him at the same time. It is a queer sort of game we play. I know this from others’ experience as much as from my own. I have always been drawn to and even openly expressed my desire for the priesthood from a young age, but the nearer I drew, I saw wrought iron fences go up as if foreboding not any friendly visit but a robbery! For a while I kept barricading myself with so many plans and excuses, if only to elude capture.

Once, after hearing me go on and on about my (useless) anxieties, my spiritual director could only say, “You can trust God, Niko.” I did not get all fired up after that. In fact, I think it was also he who later compared me to the ground squishing even as the sower makes his round. Nonetheless, those words were for me like quiet rays of sunshine and gentle raindrops that made the soil fertile and ready for planting. Not long afterwards, I caught sight of an excerpt which turned out to be from the inaugural homily of Benedict XVI: “Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything.” So I am not going to be robbed of whatever little I have and then left for dead, I wondered with surprise.

For a long time, I had this oppressive fear that if I were to follow Christ and take up his cross (a condition he had clearly indicated), I would somehow be crushed under its weight. I now believe that it had partly stemmed from seeing too many a miserable priest masked with a grin, "all for the Kingdom," they say, that is, until they broke down one way or another. I simply wanted no part in that make-believe kind of life. “What pleasure is God supposed to take in destruction?” writes Joseph Ratzinger. “One answer is that the destruction always conceals within itself the act of acknowledging God’s sovereignty over all things. But can such a mechanical act really serve God’s glory? Obviously not.” Rather, “true ‘sacrifice’ is the civitas Dei, that is, love-transformed mankind, the divinization of creation and the surrender of all things to God: God all in all (cf. 1 Cor 15:28).”[1]

Priesthood is a service to the Church—Christ’s Mystical Body. The Holy Father has made this point clear: “Christian priesthood is not an end in itself. It was desired by Christ for the birth and life of the Church. Thus every priest can say to the faithful, paraphrasing St Augustine: Vobiscum christianus, pro vobis sacerdos. The glory and joy of the priesthood is to serve Christ and his Mystical Body.”[2] Christ raises up men who would become ‘eunuchs for the kingdom’ (cf. Mt 19:12), men who would give themselves totally as he did, so that others may have life. The priest is not alter Christus for nothing. He is the ‘sacrament’ of Christ, who came to serve and not to be served (cf. Mk 10:45), and to lay down his life for his friends—the greatest of all loving, Jesus says (cf. Jn 15:13). And the service of a priest has value because it is out of love for the Church, modeled on her Bridegroom, and apart from loving the Church, which is the people gathered by the love of God, the priesthood is haplessly mocked.

And just as the master summons his servant to a specific task, priestly service is not for whomever wants it but for whomever God wants it given. He alone chooses and he alone calls. Is he not the Lord of the harvest? The priesthood is not something anyone can get on demand, but a clarion call that a good servant heeds and a specific mandate that can stupefy the dumbest and the most learned alike: “Why?” or “Why me?” The choice, it is said, is not based on qualities, and certainly not because of our skillful calculation. Nor does it depend upon our holiness of life. A bishop emphatically said, not once but twice, “You will become a priest, not because you are holy, but only because God loves you.” This, of course, ought not to be misconstrued as a predilection centered on oneself; rather it is the love of God for his people—love that breaks out through the heart of his anointed for the life of the world.

Indeed, as John the Beloved famously writes in his gospel, “God so loved the world that he gave his only son… that they may have life” (Jn 3:16, 18). If, as priests, it is Jesus we follow, then priesthood is divine sonship at its core, so that we do not claim to be like those obscurely slaving away in some impersonal corporate giant but someone running a family business where relationships come first. A priest is a man of love and for love, because he is loved first and is, foremost, a son. It is his relationship with the Father that defines him and his work. He does not simply take on a job, but lives up to his birthright received through Christ. And like a goodly son, the priest is a brother to all. Thus, it can be said that the promises of obedience and celibacy, though seen as being unjust demands at times, are in reality privileges that put the priest in his rightful place, namely, that of a son to his father through obedience, and through celibate loving, that of a brother constantly available for the needs of God’s family.

Having come to the end of this reflection, which I think is still very premature, I believe that somehow the Spirit has supplied me with something to pray and think about in the next few days, which could be summed up in these three words: service, summons, and sonship. Pray that my understanding be deepened and that my faith, hope and love increase along the way.

With a brother seminarian from Romania

St. Jean-Marie Vianney, pray for us!

---

[1] Ratzinger, Joseph. The Spirit of the Liturgy. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2000. p. 28.

[2] Taken from the speech of Benedict XVI to the Priestly Fraternity of the Missionaries of Saint Charles Borromeo on July 28, 2011.

Snapshots of life here

I came up with the idea of starting this blog a couple of days ago so that you--my family and friends-- could check on me. I shall endeavor to give updates as faithfully as I can in short narratives and, maybe, with a few pictures if they are available.

With our Grand Chancellor, Cardinal Christoph Schönborn, O.P.

As most of you know, I am studying here at the International Theological Institute (ITI) as a seminarian. I belong to the minority as most of the other students are either married or single laity. This past school year, I was one of only three candidates for the celibate priesthood.  While one other seminarian is from the Eastern rite who, along with another young man still in discernment, may opt to marry before getting ordained. We also have married aspirants to the diaconate. Our formation program is led by our rector, Msgr. Larry Hogan, who is a priest of the Archdiocese of Vienna where he is also the chief exorcist, and assisting him is our prefect, Rev. Yuriy Kolasa, who was recently named vicar general for the Eastern Catholic churches in Austria.

At home in Saint Thérèse.

I live in the clausura ('enclosure') within the Saint Thérèse student housing. While we do not always take our meals in common and we, seminarians, are encouraged to take full advantage of our sacred space, we make time for evenings of fellowship with our brothers and sisters. We also do not miss out on any ITI community celebrations:  feasts, talent shows, ordinations, balls, weddings, etc.

During a retreat at Stift Lilienfeld.

Our formative lifestyle, in my view, is just as avant-garde as it is ancient. We follow a decidedly idiorrhythmic model, typical of the desert hermits of old, stressing individual commitment to one's chosen path with the help of seasoned mentors and the support of a community that does not place any unnecessary demands for structure. I argue that nothing could better prepare us for life in the parish, especially that we daily find ourselves in the midst of a community of men and women who represent a rich diversity and a lived experience of mutuality... 

Besides studying and other more serious pursuits, I also get to travel a bit, thanks to the generosity of friends scattered across the continent. Last Christmas, the Fiães Family invited me to Milan.  It was great catching up with them after four years. Then some Austrian friends had me over for a few days in Salzburg, where I got a personalized Sound of Music tour and sledded down the mountain at midnight, among other things. Another invitation came shortly afterwards to spend a weekend in Paris. Without any reliable income, I never thought I would be able to make those trips (and all within three months!), but the funny thing is that I did.

A light moment with Mozart at Getreidegasse 9 in Salzburg.