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.
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| 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).
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.