Pope celebrates Holy Thursday Mass with his priests
April 17, 2014 - Pope Francis began the Easter triduum - the three days leading up
to Easter - with a Chrism Mass Holy Thursday morning in St. Peter’s Basilica. The
Chrism Mass is the first of the two liturgies on Holy Thursday. The other is the
afternoon liturgy of the Supper of the Lord, that includes the washing of the feet,
in commemoration of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples at the Last Supper.
Holy Thursday’s Chrism Mass is led by the bishop of a diocese with his priests
around him in celebrating their priesthood and renewing their priestly promises in
commemoration of the institution of the Holy Eucharist and the priesthood by Jesus
at the Last Supper with his disciples. Pope Francis, in his capacity as the bishop
of Rome, celebrated the Chrism Mass with the priests of Rome, including cardinals,
bishops and others numering some 10,000 in all. The Chrism Mass takes its name from
chrism or holy oils that are blessed during the Mass, which are used in sacraments,
such as baptism, confirmation, ordination and the anointing of the sick.
In
his homily at the Chrism Mass, Pope Francis spoke about the significance of anointing
with oil. He urged his priests to relish the joy of their priesthood saying it is
a priceless treasure, not only for themselves but also for the entire faithful people
of God, in whose midst they are called to be anointed and not greasy. The Holy Father
pointed to three special qualities of this joy, namely: a joy that anoints, but does
not make us greasy, luxurious and presumptuous; a joy that is incorruptible; and a
missionary joy that spreads around attracting all, especially those far away. The
Bishop of Rome also urged his priests to go out of themselves searching for God in
adoration, to the people of God entrusted to them. “Going out of self means emptying
oneself, being poor,” the Pope said.
Holding up the image of Mary as a model,
going in haste to her cousin Elizabeth and assisting the family at the marriage feast
of Cana, the Pope told priests be always available and ready to serve others. “The
availability of her priests makes the Church a house with open doors, a refuge for
sinners, a home for people living on the streets, a place of loving care for the sick,
a camp for the young, a classroom for catechizing children about to make their First
Communion…,” the Pope said.
Below is the translation of the Pope’s
homily in Italian:
“Anointed with the oil of gladness”
Dear
Brother Priests,
In the eternal “today” of Holy Thursday, when Christ
showed his love for us to the end (cf. Jn 13:1), we recall the happy day of the institution
of the priesthood, as well as the day of our own priestly ordination. The Lord anointed
us in Christ with the oil of gladness, and this anointing invites us to accept and
appreciate this great gift: the gladness, the joy of being a priest. Priestly joy
is a priceless treasure, not only for the priest himself but for the entire faithful
people of God: that faithful people from which he is called to be anointed and which
he, in turn, is sent to anoint.
Anointed with the oil of gladness so
as to anoint others with the oil of gladness. Priestly joy has its source in the
Father’s love, and the Lord wishes the joy of this Love to be “ours” and to be “complete”
(Jn 15:11). I like to reflect on joy by contemplating Our Lady, for Mary, the “Mother
of the living Gospel, is a wellspring of joy for God’s little ones” (Evangelii Gaudium,
288). I do not think it is an exaggeration to say that priest is very little indeed:
the incomparable grandeur of the gift granted us for the ministry sets us among the
least of men. The priest is the poorest of men unless Jesus enriches him by his poverty,
the most useless of servants unless Jesus calls him his friend, the most ignorant
of men unless Jesus patiently teaches him as he did Peter, the frailest of Christians
unless the Good Shepherd strengthens him in the midst of the flock. No one is more
“little” than a priest left to his own devices; and so our prayer of protection against
every snare of the Evil One is the prayer of our Mother: I am a priest because he
has regarded my littleness (cf. Lk 1:48). And in that littleness we find our joy.
Joy in smallness!
For me, there are three significant features of our
priestly joy. It is a joy which anoints us (not one which “greases” us, making us
unctuous, sumptuous and presumptuous), it is a joy which is imperishable and it is
a missionary joy which spreads and attracts, starting backwards – with those farthest
away from us.
A joy which anoints us. In a word: it has penetrated
deep within our hearts, it has shaped them and strengthened them sacramentally. The
signs of the ordination liturgy speak to us of the Church’s maternal desire to pass
on and share with others all that the Lord has given us: the laying on of hands, the
anointing with sacred chrism, the clothing with sacred vestments, the first consecration
which immediately follows… Grace fills us to the brim and overflows, fully, abundantly
and entirely in each priest. We are anointed down to our very bones… and our joy,
which wells up from deep within, is the echo of this anointing.
An
imperishable joy. The fullness of the Gift, which no one can take away or increase,
is an unfailing source of joy: an imperishable joy which the Lord has promised no
one can take from us (Jn 16:22). It can lie dormant, or be clogged by sin or by life’s
troubles, yet deep down it remains intact, like the embers of a burnt log beneath
the ashes, and it can always be renewed. Paul’s exhortation to Timothy remains ever
timely: I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God that is within you through
the laying on of my hands (cf. 2 Tim 1:6).
A missionary joy. I would
like especially to share with you and to stress this third feature: priestly joy is
deeply bound up with God’s holy and faithful people, for it is an eminently missionary
joy. Our anointing is meant for anointing God’s holy and faithful people: for baptizing
and confirming them, healing and sanctifying them, blessing, comforting and evangelizing
them.
And since this joy is one which only springs up when the shepherd
is in the midst of his flock (for even in the silence of his prayer, the shepherd
who worships the Father is with his sheep), it is a “guarded joy”, watched over by
the flock itself. Even in those gloomy moments when everything looks dark and a feeling
of isolation takes hold of us, in those moments of listlessness and boredom which
at times overcome us in our priestly life (and which I too have experienced), even
in those moments God’s people are able to “guard” that joy; they are able to protect
you, to embrace you and to help you open your heart to find renewed joy.
A
“guarded joy”: one guarded by the flock but also guarded by three sisters who surround
it, tend it and defend it: sister poverty, sister fidelity and sister obedience.
Priestly
joy is a joy which is sister to poverty. The priest is poor in terms of purely human
joy. He has given up so much! And because he is poor, he, who gives so much to others,
has to seek his joy from the Lord and from God’s faithful people. He doesn’t need
to try to create it for himself. We know that our people are very generous in thanking
priests for their slightest blessing and especially for the sacraments. Many people,
in speaking of the crisis of priestly identity, fail to realize that identity presupposes
belonging. There is no identity – and consequently joy of life – without an active
and unwavering sense of belonging to God’s faithful people (cf. Evangelii Gaudium,
268). The priest who tries to find his priestly identity by soul-searching and introspection
may well encounter nothing more than “exit” signs, signs that say: exit from yourself,
exit to seek God in adoration, go out and give your people what was entrusted to you,
for your people will make you feel and taste who you are, what your name is, what
your identity is, and they will make you rejoice in that hundredfold which the Lord
has promised to those who serve him. Unless you “exit” from yourself, the oil grows
rancid and the anointing cannot be fruitful. Going out from ourselves presupposes
self-denial; it means poverty.
Priestly joy is a joy which is sister
to fidelity. Not primarily in the sense that we are all “immaculate” (would that
by God’s grace we were!), for we are sinners, but in the sense of an ever renewed
fidelity to the one Bride, to the Church. Here fruitfulness is key. The spiritual
children which the Lord gives each priest, the children he has baptized, the families
he has blessed and helped on their way, the sick he has comforted, the young people
he catechizes and helps to grow, the poor he assists… all these are the “Bride” whom
he rejoices to treat as his supreme and only love and to whom he is constantly faithful.
It is the living Church, with a first name and a last name, which the priest shepherds
in his parish or in the mission entrusted to him. That mission brings him joy whenever
he is faithful to it, whenever he does all that he has to do and lets go of everything
that he has to let go of, as long as he stands firm amid the flock which the Lord
has entrusted to him: Feed my sheep (cf. Jn 21:16,17).
Priestly joy
is a joy which is sister to obedience. An obedience to the Church in the hierarchy
which gives us, as it were, not simply the external framework for our obedience: the
parish to which I am sent, my ministerial assignments, my particular work … but also
union with God the Father, the source of all fatherhood. It is likewise an obedience
to the Church in service: in availability and readiness to serve everyone, always
and as best I can, following the example of “Our Lady of Promptness” (cf. Lk 1:39,
meta spoudes), who hastens to serve Elizabeth her kinswoman and is concerned for the
kitchen of Cana when the wine runs out. The availability of her priests makes the
Church a house with open doors, a refuge for sinners, a home for people living on
the streets, a place of loving care for the sick, a camp for the young, a classroom
for catechizing children about to make their First Communion… Wherever God’s people
have desires or needs, there is the priest, who knows how to listen (ob-audire) and
feels a loving mandate from Christ who sends him to relieve that need with mercy or
to encourage those good desires with resourceful charity.
All who are
called should know that genuine and complete joy does exist in this world: it is the
joy of being taken from the people we love and then being sent back to them as dispensers
of the gifts and counsels of Jesus, the one Good Shepherd who, with deep compassion
for all the little ones and the outcasts of this earth, wearied and oppressed like
sheep without a shepherd, wants to associate many others to his ministry, so as himself
to remain with us and to work, in the person of his priests, for the good of his people.
On
this Holy Thursday I ask the Lord Jesus to enable many young people to discover that
burning zeal which joy kindles in our hearts as soon as we have the stroke of boldness
needed to respond willingly to his call.
On this priestly Thursday
I ask the Lord Jesus to preserve the joy sparkling in the eyes of the recently ordained
who go forth to devour the world, to spend themselves fully in the midst of God's
faithful people, rejoicing as they prepare their first homily, their first Mass, their
first Baptism, their first confession… It is the joy of being able to share with
wonder, and for the first time as God’s anointed, the treasure of the Gospel and to
feel the faithful people anointing you again and in yet another way: by their requests,
by bowing their heads for your blessing, by taking your hands, by bringing you their
children, by pleading for their sick… Preserve, Lord, in your young priests the joy
of going forth, of doing everything as if for the first time, the joy of spending
their lives fully for you.
On this priestly Thursday I ask the Lord
Jesus to confirm the priestly joy of those who have already ministered for some years.
The joy which, without leaving their eyes, is also found on the shoulders of those
who bear the burden of the ministry, those priests who, having experienced the labours
of the apostolate, gather their strength and rearm themselves: “get a second wind”,
as the athletes say. Lord, preserve the depth, wisdom and maturity of the joy felt
by these older priests. May they be able to pray with Nehemiah: “the joy of the Lord
is my strength” (cf. Neh 8:10).
Finally, on this priestly Thursday
I ask the Lord Jesus to make better known the joy of elderly priests, whether healthy
or infirm. It is the joy of the Cross, which springs from the knowledge that we possess
an imperishable treasure in perishable earthen vessels. May these priests find happiness
wherever they are; may they experience already, in the passage of the years, a taste
of eternity (Guardini). Lord, may they know the joy of handing on the torch, the
joy of seeing new generations of their spiritual children, and of hailing the promises
from afar, smiling and at peace, in that hope which does not disappoint.