Mon-"See Ya Later"

Anytime a story about Pope Francis is released, I get suspicious. The Church now needs a BS detector, along the lines of snopes.com. Writers of books and pamphlets once had to acquire an imprimatur (Latin for "let it be printed") from a bishop or his designate in order to assure that the reader would not be misled in matters of faith and morals. When it comes to the Internet, however, anything is fair game.

The Vatican Insider: La Stampa reports that Pope Francis has decided to restrict future bestowals of the honorary title "Monsignor" (Italian for "my lord") to priests age 65 and older. Since the reforms of Pope Paul VI, there were three ranks of monsignori; now the title will be limited to the first rank, "Chaplain of His Holiness." For the sartorially-inclined, that's the black cassock with purple buttons and sash. (Our pastor was named a Chaplain of His Holiness John Paul II in 2005.) All current monsignori are "grandfathered" regardless of age, and will retain their rank and attire.

Somewhere--most recently, here--I read that no more than ten percent of a diocesan presbyterate should be monsignori. Our diocese would need to have almost double the current number of diocesan priests in order to observe that rule! A friend spoke of a diocese where "you couldn't shake the tail of a dead cat without hitting a monsignor." By contrast, some dioceses have "bled" purple and fuchsia very sparsely.

As a kid I was always impressed by the cavalcade of colors in Forty Hours processions. To me it was the closest thing to parades of military, emergency personnel, or marching bands, which still induce goose bumps and tears. The processions for diocesan-wide Masses (where we are, of course, "fully clothed" in chasuble and stole) continue to make my hairs stand on end, more so because I get to be a part of them.

The title, too, tickled my young ears. It seemed like a kind of hot commodity, reserved for the "big cities" like Allentown, Reading, or...Pottsville. For years Saint Clair never had one, until the present pastor in town, Msgr. Glosser, who, like many monsignori I've known, are just as happy to refer to themselves, and be called, "Father [Bill]."

I've always appreciated the vesture of the "Domestic Prelate" (fuchsia cassock with red buttons and sash, or black cassock with red buttons and fuchsia sash), but henceforth it will be restricted to bishops. Fortunately we'll still have a couple dozen of Domestic Prelates in our diocese for some time. The purple-speckled "monjuniors" will be with us for quite a while, and their ranks will be fortified in time. The ambitious need not lose heart!

Well, perhaps they should, as disillusionment can set the heart right.

The theme of clerical ambition has been prominent in Francis' addresses, as it was for Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. I'm sure it has been an issue since the mother of two apostles jockeyed for her sons to be seated alongside the King (cf. Mt 20:21). The priesthood is not an avenue to career advancement, and diocesan offices are not status symbols. As a friend posted in his link to the La Stampa article, "We are but unprofitable servants, who have merely done our duty" (Lk 17:10).

The aforementioned monsignor in my hometown and others wear their cassock with humility, just as they might wear the black "witness shirt" most days. We cannot at all conclude that whoever is or will be a monsignor, has received the title for being a sycophant.

While I can admit to tinges of ambition and interest in trappings, it truly is enough for me to be a Catholic priest who is, for the moment, still in good standing. The discharge of daily responsibilities can be enough of a challenge. When people call me "Father," it still astounds and humbles me. May it always be so!

I Am Not Great...But God Is

Today was one of those days when I was confronted by my human weakness from several angles.

I reacted selfishly to requests recently made to me--first, for a visit to a hospitalized parishioner from a previous assignment, and second, for assistance with another outside venue that had been accustomed to a priest who will no longer be available.  In time I visited the hospitalized person; as I expected, the visit was a delightful chance to catch up on old times and converse about present concerns.  It was one of many ministerial experiences where, I believe, both parties are ministering to each other; where Christ is [in] the transaction.  (I try to look upon the discharge of all my responsibilities in that way.)  As for the request for outside assistance, the jury is still out on that, but I sense where it will go.

These were legitimate requests.  One could say that the petitioners were honoring me by their requests.  Yes, I'm a warm, consecrated body--Father Youlldo's the name.  But more than that: a priest who, in nearly ten years, has served with his increasingly evident limitations and God's increasingly evident grace.  A man whose first thought still tends to be selfish and self-centered, but who has discovered that the first thought isn't always the most reliable basis for action.

(Suddenly this recent article from Msgr. Pope makes me wonder whether I should stop writing and indeed erase this blog entry... aw, damn the torpedoes!)

It's enough for me most days to handle that day's events.  Marlon Brando's famous line sometimes haunts me: "I coulda been a contender."  Previous visions of academic or ministerial prowess have given way to my present situation--in the midst of which, at heart, I echo the Psalmist: "The measuring lines have fallen for me in pleasant places" (16:6).  The people I have served in every assignment have manifested to me the tender compassion of God.  Notwithstanding the divine life imparted in the proclamation of the Word and the celebration of the Sacraments, I hope I've helped God's people half as much as they have helped me.  With gratitude I note that I didn't pen these pastoral arrangements, because I couldn't have put things together half as well.

The seminary profs told us, "Nobody who goes to you in Confession is going to ask you how many degrees you have"; in another place I heard, "Yeah, thermometers have degrees, too, and you know where they stick them sometimes!"

But some among us do have many degrees.  They've worked hard for them, and they put them to good use.  And some among us do receive great responsibilities.  They have proved their competence.  From time to time it sinks in, this notion that I have not achieved the sort of greatness that once I wished I would have.  Instead, "Here am I, and the children God has given to me" (Heb 2:13; cf. Isa 8:18).  At life's end, what more is left?  What more is right?

This paragraph from the Catechism (2606) consoles me:

All the troubles, for all time, of humanity enslaved by sin and death, all the petitions and intercessions of salvation history are summed up in this cry of the [crucified] incarnate Word.  Here the Father accepts them and, beyond all hope, answers them by raising his Son.  Thus is fulfilled and brought to completion the drama of prayer in the economy of creation and salvation.  The Psalter gives us the key to prayer in Christ.  In the "today" of the Resurrection the Father says: "You are my Son, today I have begotten you.  Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession" (Ps 2:7-8).

My troubles, too--especially those of my own making (by far the majority)--were subsumed in the cry of the Crucified.  Implicit in my experience of those troubles is the petition for their amelioration.  "I don't like this, Lord; please make it better, or help me to deal with it better."  In case you were wondering, I have not forgotten to pray for the caller from the former assignment.  Intercession is an integral part of priestly prayer, for Jesus the High Priest "lives for ever to make intercession for us" (Heb 7:25).  My troubles, petitions, and intercessions were already heard, and they were already answered, favorably.  In faith I can affirm that right now, even as my troubles and the troubles of all humanity are taking place.  It is further helpful to recall that the ministry of priests takes up the cries of wounded humanity (priests included!), unites them to the Son, and presents them to the Eternal Father.

I don't know if there is any theological substantiation for this, but I suspect that in each offering of the Mass, each Confession, each anointing, somehow every sin and shortcoming is presented and none is omitted.  This would not excuse us from the responsibility to repent, to assist at Mass, to pray, to live according to the demands of the Gospel; but it reinforces Our Lord's prior, all-consuming interest in our welfare.  My true greatness consists in my recognition of, and participation in, God's love for me as He expresses it in Creed, Cult, Code, and Connection--in the Church's teaching, worship, living, and praying.