Support your priests with Love and prayers: Pope Francis at Chrism Mass
March, 28, 2013: Pope Francis presided over the Chrism Mass in the Vatican Basilica
at 9.30 am on Holy Thursday. The same Liturgy is celebrated on this day in Cathedrals
all over the world. The Chrism Mass was concelebrated by the Pope with cardinals and
bishops along with diocesan and religious priests of Rome, numbering almost 3000.
During the Mass, priests renewed the promises made at the time of their Ordination
to priesthood. The other significant part of the liturgy was the blessing of the oil
of the sick, the oil of catechumens and the chrism. Addressing the priests in
his Homily, the Pope said “…the priest celebrates by carrying on his shoulders the
people entrusted to his care and bearing their names written in his heart. When we
put on our simple chasuble, it might well make us feel, upon our shoulders and in
our hearts, the burdens and the faces of our faithful people, our saints and martyrs
of whom there are many in these times…” He also appealed to the lay faithful, to be
close to their priests with affection and with their prayers, that the Priests may
always be shepherds according to God’s heart. “Support your priests with your love
and prayers, that they may always be shepherds after Christ’s heart.” He tweeted after
the Eucharist. The full text of the Homily of Pope Francis is given below:
Dear
Brothers and Sisters, This morning I have the joy of celebrating my first Chrism Mass
as the Bishop of Rome. I greet all of you with affection, especially you, dear priests,
who, like myself, today recall the day of your ordination.
The readings of
our Mass speak of God’s “anointed ones”: the suffering Servant of Isaiah, King David
and Jesus our Lord. All three have this in common: the anointing that they receive
is meant in turn to anoint God’s faithful people, whose servants they are; they are
anointed for the poor, for prisoners, for the oppressed… A fine image of this “being
for” others can be found in the Psalm: “It is like the precious oil upon the head,
running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down upon the collar of
his robe” (Ps 133:2). The image of spreading oil, flowing down from the beard of Aaron
upon the collar of his sacred robe, is an image of the priestly anointing which, through
Christ, the Anointed One, reaches the ends of the earth, represented by the robe.
The
sacred robes of the High Priest are rich in symbolism. One such symbol is that the
names of the children of Israel were engraved on the onyx stones mounted on the shoulder-pieces
of the ephod, the ancestor of our present-day chasuble: six on the stone of the right
shoulder-piece and six on that of the left (cf. Ex 28:6-14). The names of the twelve
tribes of Israel were also engraved on the breastplate (cf. Es 28:21). This means
that the priest celebrates by carrying on his shoulders the people entrusted to his
care and bearing their names written in his heart. When we put on our simple chasuble,
it might well make us feel, upon our shoulders and in our hearts, the burdens and
the faces of our faithful people, our saints and martyrs of whom there are many in
these times…
From the beauty of all these liturgical things, which is not so
much about trappings and fine fabrics than about the glory of our God resplendent
in his people, alive and strengthened, we turn to a consideration of activity, action.
The precious oil which anoints the head of Aaron does more than simply lend fragrance
to his person; it overflows down to “the edges”. The Lord will say this clearly: his
anointing is meant for the poor, prisoners and the sick, for those who are sorrowing
and alone. The ointment is not intended just to make us fragrant, much less to be
kept in a jar, for then it would become rancid … and the heart bitter.
A good
priest can be recognized by the way his people are anointed. This is a clear test.
When our people are anointed with the oil of gladness, it is obvious: for example,
when they leave Mass looking as if they have heard good news. Our people like to hear
the Gospel preached with “unction”, they like it when the Gospel we preach touches
their daily lives, when it runs down like the oil of Aaron to the edges of reality,
when it brings light to moments of extreme darkness, to the “outskirts” where people
of faith are most exposed to the onslaught of those who want to tear down their faith.
People thank us because they feel that we have prayed over the realities of their
everyday lives, their troubles, their joys, their burdens and their hopes. And when
they feel that the fragrance of the Anointed One, of Christ, has come to them through
us, they feel encouraged to entrust to us everything they want to bring before the
Lord: “Pray for me, Father, because I have this problem”, “Bless me”, “Pray for me”
– these words are the sign that the anointing has flowed down to the edges of the
robe, for it has turned into prayer. The prayers of the people of God. When we have
this relationship with God and with his people, and grace passes through us, then
we are priests, mediators between God and men. What I want to emphasize is that we
need constantly to stir up God’s grace and perceive in every request, even those requests
that are inconvenient and at times purely material or downright banal – but only apparently
so – the desire of our people to be anointed with fragrant oil, since they know that
we have it. To perceive and to sense, even as the Lord sensed the hope-filled anguish
of the woman suffering from hemorrhages when she touched the hem of his garment. At
that moment, Jesus, surrounded by people on every side, embodies all the beauty of
Aaron vested in priestly raiment, with the oil running down upon his robes. It is
a hidden beauty, one which shines forth only for those faith-filled eyes of the woman
troubled with an issue of blood. But not even the disciples – future priests – see
or understand: on the “existential outskirts”, they see only what is on the surface:
the crowd pressing in on Jesus from all sides (cf. Lk 8:42). The Lord, on the other
hand, feels the power of the divine anointing which runs down to the edge of his cloak.
We
need to “go out”, then, in order to experience our own anointing, its power and its
redemptive efficacy: to the “outskirts” where there is suffering, bloodshed, blindness
that longs for sight, and prisoners in thrall to many evil masters. It is not in soul-searching
or constant introspection that we encounter the Lord: self-help courses can be useful
in life, but to live by going from one course to another, from one method to another,
leads us to become pelagians and to minimize the power of grace, which comes alive
and flourishes to the extent that we, in faith, go out and give ourselves and the
Gospel to others, giving what little ointment we have to those who have nothing, nothing
at all.
A priest who seldom goes out of himself, who anoints little – I won’t
say “not at all” because, thank God, our people take our oil from us anyway – misses
out on the best of our people, on what can stir the depths of his priestly heart.
Those who do not go out of themselves, instead of being mediators, gradually become
intermediaries, managers. We know the difference: the intermediary, the manager, “has
already received his reward”, and since he doesn’t put his own skin and his own heart
on the line, he never hears a warm, heartfelt word of thanks. This is precisely the
reason why some priests grow dissatisfied, become sad priests, lose heart and become
in some sense collectors of antiques or novelties – instead of being shepherds living
with “the smell of the sheep”, shepherds in the midst of their flock, fishers of men.
True enough, the so-called crisis of priestly identity threatens us all and adds to
the broader cultural crisis; but if we can resist its onslaught, we will be able to
put out in the name of the Lord and cast our nets. It is not a bad thing that reality
itself forces us to “put out into the deep”, where what we are by grace is clearly
seen as pure grace, out into the deep of the contemporary world, where the only thing
that counts is “unction” – not function – and the nets which overflow with fish are
those cast solely in the name of the One in whom we have put our trust: Jesus.
Dear
lay faithful, be close to your priests with affection and with your prayers, that
they may always be shepherds according to God’s heart.
Dear priests, may God
the Father renew in us the Spirit of holiness with whom we have been anointed. May
he renew his Spirit in our hearts, that this anointing may spread to everyone, even
to those “outskirts” where our faithful people most look for it and most appreciate
it. May our people sense that we are the Lord’s disciples; may they feel that their
names are written upon our priestly vestments and that we seek no other identity;
and may they receive through our words and deeds the oil of gladness which Jesus,
the Anointed One, came to bring us. Amen.