The following address was given by the Rector – Father Anthony Percy – on Thurs 3rd Sept 2009, University of Technology

“Fringe Benefits” of the Priesthood

“The pay is not much, but the fringe benefits are out of this world.”

Nothing could be closer to the truth when it comes to describing the Catholic Priesthood. I was ordained in December 1990. Little did I know or expect what was coming. I thought that I might have some impact on “mother earth” and the people who inhabit her. A priest is, after all, a preacher and prophet after the heart and example of Christ. But what I have discovered, and keep discovering, is that you receive far more than you give in this game.

There is a passage of scripture that should have alerted me to this profound truth a little earlier in my priestly training and life. St. Matthew and St. Mark locate it in the context of that Rich Young Man in the Gospel who comes before Christ seeking answers to questions of eternal life. He tells Christ that he has faithfully kept the Commandments since his youth. Jesus demands more of him – he asks him to give up his wealth and “come, follow me.” The young man refuses. He goes away sad. Jesus explains to his disciples that it is hard for a rich man to enter heaven. In fact, this “entering” of heaven is only possible by relying on God’s grace and mercy.

St. Peter speaks up and says to Jesus, “ What about us?” “We have left everything and followed you. What are we to have, then?” Jesus responds, “Everyone who has left houses, brothers, sisters, father, mother, children or land for the sake of my name will be repaid a hundred times over, and also inherit eternal life.” (Matthew 19, 27-29)

This truly has been my experience. The “fringe benefits” are quite extraordinary in the priestly vocation. Despite the usual ups and downs of life, struggles of one sort or another, the inevitable disappointments with myself and others, etc., I can truly say that I have been “repaid a hundred times over” in my brief sojourn in the priestly ministry. The “gift” has far outweighed any “sacrifice” that I may have made.

It is all a gift – a gift from the Giver of all good gifts. I remember the day after I was ordained. I travelled back to my home parish, as it was then, to celebrate a Mass of Thanksgiving. The preacher was Father Hilton Roberts – the parish priest at the time, a good friend, a marvellous preacher and remarkable priest.

He spoke of the previous night – of the ordination ceremony and its splendour. The cathedral was overflowing, the atmosphere terrific. Father Hilton spoke of the beauty of the ordination rite – the prostration of the priest on the floor of the sanctuary, the laying on of hands by both Bishop and priests, the consecration of my hands with the sacred oil of Chrism, the placing into those hands of the paten and chalice with the words, “Imitate the mystery you celebrate. Model your life on the mystery of the Lord’s Cross.” All of this was magnificent.

“But,” he said, “that was just the preliminary – something to get you started. For the real question is, ‘Are you weak enough to be a priest? Are you aware of your own insufficiency and feebleness?’ Because only when you are that way, will you be a effective as a minister of the Gospel.’”

It is a truth of the Gospel that is perhaps a little hard to digest, especially in a culture that continually promotes self-realization: God chooses the weak and makes them strong. St. Paul in 1 Corinthians makes it abundantly clear:

Take yourselves for instance, brothers, at the time when you were called: how many of you were wise in the ordinary sense of the word, how many were influential people, or came from noble families? No, it was to shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning, and to shame what is strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning.” (1 Cor 1, 26-28)

It really is all “gift.” God nudges the soul of a young man. He prods his spirit. He knocks at the door of his life. God does it in a variety of ways. Sometimes through joys, sometimes through sorrows and sufferings, sometimes through a book, a course, an experience (like WYD2008), other times he does it through the words of a preacher, a friend, a brother, etc. Often times he awakens the soul of a young man in acts of mercy towards others. He mysteriously sees Christ in the other – often the less fortunate. No doubt my experience of mowing the lawns for a little old lady in years 11 & 12 helped. Seeing homeless men lying on park benches during the course of Night Patrol in my years at university helped facilitate the call, too.

In reality, it is not one event, I guess, but many different, but nevertheless providential events and occasions that awakened me to what the Lord wanted of me. I remember those days in my very early twenties with great joy. They were days of great adventure. I began to pray more, to read the Bible more, to frequent the sacraments and I kept searching and asking, “Lord, is this what you want of me?”

As I talk to the young men now entrusted to my care in the Good Shepherd Seminary in Sydney, I re-discover continually the profound truth that it is God who calls. The priesthood is not a right, but a gift given by God to those he chooses. Somehow he gets inside of you and sows the seed of the priestly vocation. For some unknown reason you feel deeply attracted to being a priest. For obvious reasons you feel deeply fearful of the call and its consequences. Can I actually do this? How will it be possible? Is he really calling me?

St. Mark describes the mystery of the call in chapter three of his Gospel:

The priest is no better than any other Christian – that is fundamentally clear to me. Through baptism he is called to be a disciple of Christ, just like every other Christian. However, for reasons known only to himself, Jesus summons those who he wants. They come to him and become his intimate companions and they are sent out “to preach with power to cast out devils.”

The “twelve” form the hierarchy of the Church. They are called to minister to the needs of the faithful, while these same faithful are sent to minister to the needs of the world. That is, the theology, according to the Church, is that priests serve the Church directly, while the faithful serve the world directly.

Before we have some time for questions and discussions, however, I want to say something about the Year of the Priest that Pope Benedict XVI has called. It runs from the feast of the Sacred Heart in 2009 to the same feast in 2010.

It is a year for priests to re-discover their priestly identity. It is a year for priests to re-discover their desire to be men of God – men of the Church. It is a year for the entire Church – even the world – to come to a more realistic and deeper appreciation of the vocation of the ministerial priesthood. In other words, this year is an “opportune time.”

Pope Benedict XVI has written a letter for the Year of the Priest and it in he reflects on the life of St. John Vianney who died in 1859. So the year commemorates his entry into eternal life. To give you some indication of Vianney’s “pulling power,” it is commonly agreed that in the last year of his life he heard in excess of one hundred thousand confessions! He was a simple, humble parish priest who many regarded as rather dull and unimaginative. He struggled through his studies because of a poor primary education and because he did not possess a great facility with the Latin language. At any rate, he was sent to a very small village called Ars in France and remained there the whole of his life. Ars became a place of pilgrimage during his life. It became a place of conversion through the sacrament of penance.

In his letter for the Year of the Priest the pope quotes a saying of the saint, which has made a rather deep impression on me. In the context of speaking of the weakness of priests and the scandal that arises from their misdemeanours and infidelities, the pope notes that “[w]hat is most helpful to the Church in such cases is not only a frank and complete acknowledgment of the weaknesses of her ministers, but also a joyful and renewed realization of the greatness of God’s gift, embodied in the splendid example of generous pastors, religious afire with love for God and for souls, and insightful, patient spiritual guides.”

Benedict then quotes the Cure of Ars:

These thoughts of St. John Vianney are very evocative. I must admit that I have never really thought that I would be a “precious gift” – “the greatest treasure” – to the parish entrusted to my care. My spiritual instincts, rather, would direct me to regard the Eucharist, the other sacraments, the Word of God and the Tradition as the “pearl of great price.”

However, the saint is on to something here – something that I and perhaps many other priests have repressed or suppressed. The pope quotes another saying of the Cure:

It all sounds a bit excessive, as the pope notes, but all that John Vianney is doing is acknowledging something that we have tended to downplay or forget in recent times and that is, that the priesthood is an immense gift to the Church and the world. The priesthood is that sacrament and vocation that is an instrument for Christ’s merciful encounter with the sinner. The priest is a shepherd after the heart of Christ himself and he does not sit in lounge chairs in front of television sets, but goes out to the byways and highways in search of the lost sheep.

I have been celebrating Mass for almost nineteen years now. I particularly love the daily Mass celebrated in a parish. In my previous parish in Goulburn, NSW, we had a morning Mass at 7am with anywhere between forty to seventy people in attendance. There they were, men and women of all ages and backgrounds with their various ups and downs, their blessings and burdens seeking to satisfy their spiritual hunger. I really did appreciate that treasured moment of the day. But perhaps I should have and should now become more aware of the treasure that is granted to them through my hands.

The same can be said of all the other sacraments. But let me finish with this story about the sacrament of the anointing. In my life as a priest I have been in parishes where there has usually been a hospital. This has been the occasion for me to witness the gentle power of Christ in the sacrament of the sick. On one occasion I was called to the hospital to help a young girl. The doctors and nurses could no longer be of assistance. The girl was dying for reasons unknown to them. I entered the room, after speaking with the medical staff, and explained to the family who I was. I gathered from their response that they were not strong Catholics. I explained to them the nature of the sacrament of the sick and asked if they would like me to anoint their daughter and sister. They had no objections so I administered the sacrament. I could not stay long and promised to come back as soon as I could. I returned the following morning. The nurses explained to me that the girl completely recovered within thirty minutes of the anointing and walked out of hospital that afternoon!

The “fringe benefits” of the priestly life are indeed “out of this world.” In light of those simple, yet profound thoughts of St. John Vianney, I can see now, perhaps with a little more clarity, that indeed this calling that I have received from the Lord is an immense gift to those entrusted to my care. I ask forgiveness from the Lord for my lack of awareness in the past and I ask for his mercy to accompany me for what lies ahead. Do join with me, in this Year of the Priest, in praying for all priests. May they sense anew, through the grace of the Holy Spirit, who they are and what they are called to be: priceless gifts after the heart of Jesus Christ – the one, true, eternal and only priest.

Amen.