Homily for Priests’ Jubilee Mass

Diocese of Camden

May 8, 2012

Bishop Galante, Fellow Jubilarians and my Brother Priests,

Truth be told, I started gathering the material for this homily about half a century ago—or more accurately, God started writing this homily in me that long ago.  That’s because I/we are all dealing with a “calling”—a mysterious, spiritual inner call from Jesus Christ through which He somehow touched all our  lives and invited us to be His disciples—some of us, His ordained priests.

The call comes differently to all of us, but I believe that it is there at the core of our being:  Come, follow me. (cf. John 1:43)

My calling started in my childhood days when I somehow realized and felt the inexplicable presence of God in my life.  As a very young introspective boy—somewhere around age 3 or 4—I vividly remember having a peculiar awareness and fear of death, crying myself to sleep at times, and praying to God that I never die.  I remember celebrating private Mass in my bedroom around age 6 using corn flakes—the available material in my family’s kitchen at the time—with a rosary hanging from my mirror.  I knew even then that there was some definite attraction to the priesthood.  I would serve Mass as an altar boy from around 3^rd grade on, being in the presence of priests and close to the Mass regularly.

Fast forward with me to a time in my teenage years when I was standing timidly along the cafeteria wall of Wildwood Catholic High School at a dance—checking out the girls, wondering whom I could ask to dance—when an annoying priest comes up to me and asks “Have you ever thought about being a priest?”  Go away.  Not now.  Bad timing, Father.  Sometime later I returned to admit to him how God was indeed moving me, moving my heart, in that very direction. 

On far too many occasions while following this call, I was nervous and concerned as I would echo the words of St. Peter:  Leave me Lord, I am a sinful man. (Luke 5:8)   I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s amidst the drinking and drug culture and free-love society present at the time.  I helped my parents operate a hotel and restaurant and later a motel while living at a seashore resort—Wildwood.  These surroundings were only one of the many tests of this vocation, this calling from God.  I realize over and over again my own total unworthiness—as we all should—and pray that I continue to seek conversion and holiness in my life.  I have fallen to my knees time and again seeking forgiveness and healing in the Sacrament of Penance.

     

The rest is history.  Two seminaries and eight years later, with an unexpected and might I add unwanted pastoral year thrown in just for the fun of it, I made it to the altar as a priest.

Could you imagine what I thought when a diocesan official (to remain nameless) said the following to me while I was on the way up the aisle at my ordination:  “You can still get out of this right up to the very last minute!”  I suppose he was just testing me.  Obviously he had no clue of how loudly and distinctly God had been calling me for years.  I realized in an indelible way that even diocesan officials are far from infallible in their decisions and actions.

My brothers, be careful what you say and do.  You can hurt people, even scar people—the People of God—in the process. 

Here I am a priest of Jesus Christ 25 years later.  My brothers, I hope that you can continue to say with me: I love being a priest.  I am convinced that it is what God called me to be.  Even in these days of scandal, confusion, lack of moral integrity, and ongoing struggles in the Church, I am proud to be an ordained Roman Catholic priest.  I am proud to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.  I still hear His call.

It hasn’t always been easy.  The letter M in the name of one of my former assignments wasn’t for the many ways they loved me.  Yet, I still try to this day to love and pray for all of my parishioners—former and current.

If we get to the core of what ministerial priesthood is all about, we see that God has given us the privilege of sharing what I refer to as a spiritual intimacy with Him and with His people.

We need to encounter God in prayer continually.  Whether in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, while reading and praying the Scriptures, while praying the rosary or our Divine Office, while attempting centering prayer, meditation, lectio divina, praying in tongues or most importantly, praying the Mass, we need to be in love with Jesus Christ.  If the romance and intimacy has faded, it needs to be rekindled.  Nothing that we do, nothing is more important than this!      

We share God’s intimacy with His people in all the sacraments, but especially and exclusively as a priest in the Holy Eucharist, in the confessional and when anointing the sick. 

Having just given our 1^st Communicants Our Lord for the first time these past two weeks in the parish reminded me of how we are privileged as priests to feed the Lord’s little lambs as well as His big sheep each and every day of our lives at Mass.  We speak the words of Our Lord:  This is my Body, this is my Blood.  And it happens!  Christ becomes truly present!  We proclaim and explain the Scriptures so that Christ is alive and present in the Word as well!  Even during those times when we may have to pray the Mass alone, we are never really alone as we join with the angels and saints in Heaven at the Eternal Banquet table praying for the People of God on earth as well as the Holy Souls.

During Advent and Lent I have the custom of asking people, after I hear their confessions, to pray for people who are away from the Church, away from the sacraments or away from God.  I ask that they pray for people to return to the faith.  Could you ever imagine how for years now I have never been disappointed by the power of this intercessory prayer?  This past Lent, among many, many others, someone returned to the Sacrament of Penance after being away for 40 years.  As priests, we bring Christ’s healing and forgiveness; we are instruments of His grace, to a world, to His people who need the forgiveness that can be experienced uniquely in this sacrament.

Visiting a hospital, a nursing home or a home-bound person affords us another spiritually intimate moment when we again can bring the presence of Christ to a hurting world.  To an elderly person, a seriously ill person, to someone alone or afraid we have the opportunity to be Christ’s presence, the Divine Physician, the Wounded Healer, as we anoint.  Sometimes the call leads us to assist someone on his or her journey back to God.  Always thank God for that privilege and pray that a priest may be at your side at the time of your death.

We also experience Christ’s intimacy when we baptize a child or adult, when we confirm at the Easter Vigil and other extraordinary times, when we witness a marriage and, especially when we are called to renew the grace of our own ordination as we see a deacon, priest or bishop ordained.

In conclusion, I read for you a few of the words by Blessed John Paul II to all priests on Holy Thursday, 1979:

. . . We must all be converted anew every day. We know that this is a fundamental exigency of the Gospel, addressed to everyone (cf. Mt 4:17; Mk 1: 15), and all the more do we have to consider it as addressed to us.  If we have the duty of helping others to be converted we have to do the same continuously in our own lives.  Being converted means returning to the very grace of our vocation; it means meditating upon the infinite goodness and love of Christ, who has addressed each of us and, calling us by name, has said: "Follow me". Being converted means continually "giving an account" before the Lord of our hearts about our service, our zeal and our fidelity, for we are "Christ's servants, stewards entrusted with the mysteries of God" (1 Cor 4:1).  Being converted also means "giving an account" of our negligences and sins, of our timidity, of our lack of faith and hope, of our thinking only "in a human way" and not "in a divine way".  Let us recall, in this regard, the warning that Christ gave to Peter himself (cf. Mt 16:23).  Being converted means, for us, seeking again the pardon and strength of God in the sacrament of Reconciliation, and thus always beginning anew, and every day progressing, overcoming ourselves, making spiritual conquests, giving cheerfully, for "God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Cor 9:7).

Being converted meant to pray continually and never lose heart" (Lk 18:1). In a certain way prayer is the first and the last condition for conversion, spiritual progress and holiness.

And so I have preached my homily and you have heard my particular story and learned about my calling.  You have had an opportunity to reflect with me on the gift of the ministerial priesthood.  Hopefully you have seen along the way the wonderful, mysterious way in which God works in my—in fact, all of our lives.

I am always in awe of how he has taken a shy, introverted boy from Wildwood—one who at one time thought it would be no problem being priest as long as he didn’t have to speak in public—and given him the opportunity to address the presbyterate of the Diocese of Camden for his Silver Jubilee.   I hope and pray that you continue to experience the love that Jesus Christ has for all of us, His priests, and for His people. 

My brothers, go forth and continue to tell your own stories.  Your people, God’s people, are anxiously waiting to hear them.

May Our Blessed Lady, Mother of the Great High Priest and Mother of all Priests, intercede for us.  Amen.