A Priest's Life

I am sending you across land and sea, to the whole world. And that world is in a miserable state. Do not think that you are destined for easy struggles or unimportant tasks. “You are the salt of the earth.” What do these words imply? Did the disciples restore what had already turned rotten? Not at all. Salt cannot help what is already corrupted. That is not what they did. But what had first been renewed and freed from corruptions and then turned over to them, they salted and preserved in the newness the Lord had bestowed. It took the power of Christ to free men from the corruption caused by sin; it was the task of the apostles through strenuous labor to keep that corruption from returning.
-- Saint John Chrysostom

The above words were in this morning’s readings; I hope every priest read them and took them to heart. Serious words, yet I think they were meant to be encouraging words. “What had first been renewed and freed from corruption and then turned over to them, they salted and preserved in the newness the Lord had bestowed.”

I think many priests view their vocation too critically; they’re too hard on themselves. They act and feel as if God has charged them with leading all souls to Him, to pull dirty old sinners out of the gutter, to save the dying, and to work miracles. My dear fathers, I love you and all you do for us, but get real. You’re not our Savior, who we are to look up to and adore, who has to be some kind of perfect example, an outstanding preacher guiding us to heaven. No, you’re not the great Shepherd, or even the Good one. Your role is important, but much less critical: you’re the bus driver. (Look in the mirror and think: “That looks like Ralph Kramden,” --- sans the halo he imagined over himself.)

Saint John summarized it well this morning: What was turned over to you was a newness “the Lord had bestowed,” not you. You’re not charged with being some great converter of souls, you are charged with helping the converted get to heaven, like the salt that preserves them, --- or like a bus driver. Your vocation and the Church are a great vehicle to help you, but the people must willingly get on your bus to go with you; you’re not out there forcing them on, and there are lots of other buses --- you don’t have to personally bring everyone. You’ve been given a beautiful bus, well-maintained by the owner --- who by the way, is in the lead car of this caravan to heaven --- don’t lose sight of Him! (He who serves me, follows me, says the Lord. – do you remember that from this morning?) Don’t forget to stop and pick up passengers along the way (remember they’re getting on willingly --- but they’ll have to pay! Challenge them!), because you don’t want to reach the end of the line empty. Don’t inflate your responsibilities too big, but don’t belittle them either: you have a job to do. Do it! Many people are counting on you, to do your part to get them to heaven, Mr. Bus Driver, Sir! Father.

Okay, so I guess the rest of you think you can sit back and relax now, and listen to your priest who says “Leave the driving to us.” Wake up, will you! You’re not paying attention back there.

Perhaps you got distracted with those words directed at our priests, but try to remember that you were part of that story also, a rather crucial part. Crucial as in: No passengers equals no need for a bus line. You’re the whole reason for the priesthood. You’re the one they serve, to help drive you to heaven. “Yes,” you may say, “and we’re very grateful for their help. (Perhaps we’ll give them a tip --- wink, wink.)” Ha, ha, very funny, but laugh at this fact my friends: Despite the existence of a very reliable public transportation system, just how many people actually take the bus? How many rely on the priest to be a primary guide to heaven? Well? Do you? And if you’re not taking this beautiful and efficient form of transportation (God is green!), then how are you getting to heaven? Do you have a better way than this one established by Christ?

You became heaven-bound when God first gave you life, and then the grace of Baptism was bestowed on you by the Lord, the newness needed for your journey, kind of like a lunch bag packed to keep you nourished along the way. Now if you choose not to get on the bus, taking advantage of the salt to preserve your grace, the easy way to heaven provided by Christ, you can always drive yourself, or walk, but those may be a bit more risky forms of transportation. We’ve discussed the rigors of traveling that way before on this site. If you’ll recall, you need to be more focused if you are taking the scenic route AND doing the driving. And a good map, or even better, a passenger who’s been there before (like Jesus) is most advisable. But I don’t think we’ve talked about your vehicle in the past. We just spoke about the bus and its drivers and their responsibilities, but if you’re determined to do the driving, what about your vehicle and responsibilities?

No man is an island. I hate to tell you, my friends, but your vehicle in this life is nothing but a mini-bus. It has a passenger seat --- okay, your excellent co-pilot should be there --- but it also has back seats. Your vehicle seats 4 or 6, or maybe even 10. And like the bus driver above, I don’t think you want to reach the final destination alone. Remember, God is THE ultimate in energy efficiency, MR GREEN Himself. Even after your long hard journey, despite His tremendous relief that you safely arrived (IF you did), He might very well say to you: “I gave you that big safe car for your journey, paid for all that gas, let you go into all those scenic by-ways --- where My lost sheep were, mind you --- and you’ve come here alone?!”

Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be part of that conversation. You are my friends, but I think I’d step outside when you try to explain that to God --- who also paid for your travel insurance, by the way. You see, my friends, in this journey of life, we are really all priests. They are the professionals; we are the amateurs, but we are all trying to get to the same destination. They bring others as part of their job; we bring others because the road is dangerous, and we should never travel alone. Never. Not only should we be prepared to accept help, we should be prepared to give it. That “Love your neighbor” commandment, He said it to ALL of us.