St. Peter Preaching in Jerusalem, engraved print by Philips Galle (c. 1580), after painting by Marten van Heemskerck
NB: The following is a short homily I delivered at the holy hour on the eve before this year's priestly ordinations. It is based upon a reading from the First Letter of Peter, chapter 2, verses 2-10.
It is easy to marvel at the workmanship of human hands. In my time as pastor at the parish at the university in Fayetteville, I’ve seen some amazingly beautiful new buildings constructed – the awesome expansion of the football stadium; gorgeous new fraternity and sorority houses; avant-garde administrative buildings and student centers. It seems that the wonders of what we humans can build is limited only by the breadth of our imagination.
But any architect will tell you that the most important part of a structure is its foundation. According to the apostle Peter, in the reading we just heard, God desires to build his Church like a spiritual house upon the foundation of his Son Jesus, once rejected by all but who has become the cornerstone. We, like living stones, are fashioned by God into his likeness – and perhaps none more so than those called to share in his priesthood.
In the training to become a priest, and perhaps especially in the years after ordination, it is easy for us priests to become focused on the many skills and abilities we are called upon to develop. We wish to be known as great preachers and wise counselors, as shrewd administrators and inspiring leaders, as well-loved by our parishioners and well-respected by our brother priests and much-trusted by our bishop. Each of these things – though good in themselves – can however also present a danger, for they are like the ornamental trappings of our priestly houses. Externals can be impressive; they can capture the attention of those who see us only from the outside. But if we attend too much to them, we risk letting the interior foundation of our spiritual house – our identity in Christ – crumble to the ground.
A good priest is not notable for his golden tongue or his brilliant business skills or the fact that every family in the parish wants to have him to dinner. A good priest is one who lets himself be molded each day into the image of Christ, a stumbling block to the world but the cornerstone of the chosen ones of God. It is through faithful, humble, sometimes painful service that a good man becomes a great priest – often in ways unseen or unappreciated. But the spiritual fruit that he bears, and the pastoral care with which he ministers, does not pass unseen by God.
Brothers, in this hour of prayer before the Eucharistic Presence of our High Priest, whose priests you will become tomorrow, we pray for you just as we pray for ourselves. It’s easy to marvel at the externals of the priestly life, but what you will do and who you will be in your priestly ministry will not be defined by the breadth of your imagination or even by the number of skills and abilities you will or will not display. Rather your success as priests will only be accomplished by the workmanship of the hand of God – that is, by the degree to which you allow God to fashion you each day as a living stone in the likeness of Christ. This is our hope and this is our prayer. May God who has begun this good work in you bring it to fulfillment.* Amen.
But any architect will tell you that the most important part of a structure is its foundation. According to the apostle Peter, in the reading we just heard, God desires to build his Church like a spiritual house upon the foundation of his Son Jesus, once rejected by all but who has become the cornerstone. We, like living stones, are fashioned by God into his likeness – and perhaps none more so than those called to share in his priesthood.
In the training to become a priest, and perhaps especially in the years after ordination, it is easy for us priests to become focused on the many skills and abilities we are called upon to develop. We wish to be known as great preachers and wise counselors, as shrewd administrators and inspiring leaders, as well-loved by our parishioners and well-respected by our brother priests and much-trusted by our bishop. Each of these things – though good in themselves – can however also present a danger, for they are like the ornamental trappings of our priestly houses. Externals can be impressive; they can capture the attention of those who see us only from the outside. But if we attend too much to them, we risk letting the interior foundation of our spiritual house – our identity in Christ – crumble to the ground.
A good priest is not notable for his golden tongue or his brilliant business skills or the fact that every family in the parish wants to have him to dinner. A good priest is one who lets himself be molded each day into the image of Christ, a stumbling block to the world but the cornerstone of the chosen ones of God. It is through faithful, humble, sometimes painful service that a good man becomes a great priest – often in ways unseen or unappreciated. But the spiritual fruit that he bears, and the pastoral care with which he ministers, does not pass unseen by God.
Brothers, in this hour of prayer before the Eucharistic Presence of our High Priest, whose priests you will become tomorrow, we pray for you just as we pray for ourselves. It’s easy to marvel at the externals of the priestly life, but what you will do and who you will be in your priestly ministry will not be defined by the breadth of your imagination or even by the number of skills and abilities you will or will not display. Rather your success as priests will only be accomplished by the workmanship of the hand of God – that is, by the degree to which you allow God to fashion you each day as a living stone in the likeness of Christ. This is our hope and this is our prayer. May God who has begun this good work in you bring it to fulfillment.* Amen.
*A prayer from the Rite of Ordination to the Priesthood.
