This is the silver anniversary of my ordination

And my older sister sent me this caricature

Of this overblown fellow, quite full of himself, saying:

“We haven’t much time, so I’ll just tell you about me!”

In a way I feel sorry for Grand Rapids.

I was here 26 years ago, for 8 months or so as a deacon,

Not long enough to get to know me very well,

And at the end of that time The CIC sent me off

With a big party

to be ordained

hoping, I suppose, for the best.

Twenty-five years later I return,

And after 8 months or so

Not long enough to get to know me very well,

You give me another celebration

for the years I have spent as a priest;

and you only have my word for it

that there is anything to celebrate.

It appears the CIC is willing to throw a party for anyone

With only the flimsiest of evidence.

No wonder we Paulists like it here.

I want to report to you

what I have learned about the priesthood of God’s people over my 25 years.

As you came in you were handed the homily

From the ordination rite given by the ordaining prelate

For me and my 5 classmates,

it was Cardinal Cooke of New York.

It is the best, most concise statement

Of the priesthood I know.

It starts by saying that we

All the baptized, share in the priesthood of Jesus Christ,

And that Jesus Christ is active among us

Every day, Right now, Making us his body

Helping us become a people of God

A temple- a place where people can find God.

Priests like me, are first and foremost people

Who in concert with the bishop

Announce

Point out

Celebrate

The Good News that

Jesus is present

Jesus is working

In all of us all the time.

“Meditate on the law of God”

the Cardinal told us,

“Believe what you read, teach what you believe

practice what you teach.”

One of the most powerful meditations

on Jesus active and alive in our midst,

I received here-at the party for my first mass

which was also my going away party.

It is actually the story of a 13 year old boy I first saw

Eight months previous

Hanging around the back of the Church on Sunday evening

Looking as uncomfortable as most teenagers do at Mass,

But, with an additional sadness.

The parents he loved, who loved him,

no longer loved each other.

The Sunday evening mass at the CIC was the neutral zone

The place where he could be dropped off

Exchanged, between visitations

With one parent or the other.

In the summer: with sand covered sandals

In the winter, wearing cross country ski boots

He would stand in the back, and we would talk

About swimming, fishing, skiing, football

School if need be, anything

To take his mind off the upcoming handoff,

And, to suggest, that God was a constant in his life.

Back to the going away party 25 years ago,

This same kid showed up, by himself

In dress shoes, white shirt and a blue blazer.

He waited, waited and waited

Obviously waiting until everyone else had gone.

Then he gave me a big box and said,

“So now you are a priest, right?”

“Right.” I said.

“And so you can never get married?”

“Nope.”

“That’s what I thought” he said, “so I got you this.”

And inside the box was this, large soft teddy bear.

I now understood

why he wanted to give me this why nobody was looking

It is an unusual gift for a 13 year old male to give.

He explained it to me:

“If you can’t ever get married I figured you needed something soft to sleep with at night.”

After I left for Boston, we exchanged a few brief letters

About school, sports, etc, until two years later

I received a letter from his mother

Explaining to me that he had drowned

in a swimming accident at a party.

He had kept in a box, our letters

and a snapshot taken of the two of us

at my going away party. She thought I would want to know,

she thought he would want me to have the picture.

I still have the picture, but that, and his name

I will keep private to myself.

As you see, I still have the bear

And no, I won’t tell you if I sleep with it at night.

But what I will tell you is this:

In my first month as a priest

A 13 year old boy from Grand Rapids

Taught me that Jesus was working in everyone all the time.

I would be taught that lesson over and over again

For at least half of my priesthood has been spent outside of church settings, working with young people:

Many of them homeless,

Runaways who felt less abused on the street

than they did at home.

Women and men both surviving for a time

And then dying

In the sex industry and drug trade.

I have worked with many young people suffering

From mental illness so serious they needed the hospital.

Depressed, anxious, manic,

suicidal, homicidal, psychotic,

conflicted over sexual orientation,

living with the pain of unspeakable frequent abuse

all suffering the additional social stigma that society

lays on the backs of people with these afflictions

as if they were at fault for their own misfortune.

In these young, no longer innocent lives

Wracked with pain I have seen these teenagers

Struggle to love and be loved

To be a friend and to have friends;

I have seen them take the last thing they had

The last vestige of their dignity and

freely give it to another.

Their lives, sermons of self sacrifice

Illustrations that even in the least among us

Jesus is present, working everywhere, all the time.

Not all of them made it, some did not,

Many had wounds beyond my capacity to heal.

I am grateful to them, and to their parents

For trusting me enough to have the chance to know them.

I have also had the opportunity to work with young adults

On the other end of the spectrum

At universities in Boston, Connecticut, Indiana and Ohio.

They were some of the best athletes in the world,

Some the most promising and talented artists

of their generation;

some of them, possessing incredibly brilliant scientific minds,

all of them regardless of discipline

at some point in their very fortunate lives

came across the scripture:

“To whom much is given, much is expected.”

Then they wrestled with the question, Why me?

Why had God given them

their particular talents and opportunities?

What did it mean?

What should they do with it?

Who and what should they live for?

Who and what should they die for?

I mention both groups of young people

Because in the Cardinal’s homily you will read:

“your ministry will perfect the spiritual sacrifice

of the faithful, by uniting it to Christ’s sacrifice,

the sacrifice which is offered sacramentally

through your hands.”

My 25 years of priesthood have taught me that both

Those who need and those who have

Are offering their lives in sacrifice;

They sacrifice their lives in and for love;

Sometimes effectively, joyfully;

Often with mistakes,

Sometimes selfishly

And sometimes with a love that is unrequited.

But when we gather here at this altar,

The Church that gathers here

The people who gather here

You and me

We bear in our bodies the sufferings of Christ,

The sufferings of people who struggle to love as he loves.

The ministry of the priest is to make clear

That this is what we offer to God

Christ’s sacrifice still going on in us.

The ministry of the priest is to make clear

That the gift given is the gift God returns to us

The Body of Christ, broken in love, for us.

Your lives and the life of Christ is what makes

The priesthood a privilege.

Now we come to that part of the

Ordination homily that is somewhat problematic.

The Cardinal says,

“Know what you are doing

and imitate the mystery you celebrate.”

Not only is that a tall order, it gets worse

For when the Cardinal placed in my hands the chalice and paten for the first time he said:

“Receive the gifts of the people of God,

be as holy as the actions you celebrate.”

Imitate the mystery of the Lord’s death and resurrection

Be as holy as the actions you celebrate…

Attend to the concerns of Christ before your own..

After 25 years I had hoped

I would have gotten better at that, but you know

You get busy.

I am grateful though that I have lived for over 30 years

With Paulist Fathers who have done exactly that:

Men who teach what they believe

and practice what they teach;

Men who pattern their life after the mystery of the cross;

Men who are as holy as the actions they perform.

I hope you can appreciate it can be a bit discouraging

When Chuck and I sit around the breakfast table

with Joe Gallagher and John Kenny

and realize that no matter how hard you work that day

no matter how many people you raise from the dead

the best you can do compared to Joe and John

is tie for third.

My Paulist brothers, all of them

Have not only given me a way to be a priest,

They have given me a way to believe in Christ.

I am grateful to all of them.

I am grateful, once again to be here at the CIC

At a place where all of you, for over 55 years

Have lived out the final sentence in the Cardinal’s homily:

“Always remember the example of the Good Shepard who cam not to be served but to serve,

and to seek out and save what was lost.”

Your lives are inspiring to me

and I am humbled and grateful to be with you again.

In closing, let me let you in on a secret Paulist tradition.

In the time when we ordained priests every year

The night before was reserved for a big Paulist party

Kind of a clerical stag party;

Ostensibly to honor those to be ordained

But more so as a celebration of all of us.

All the anniversaries were honored:

The golden jubilarians whose 50 years of service

made them both first and frail;

the silver jubilarians, whose 25 years of wisdom

they were all too ready to bestow on the gathered crowd

and then finally the whippersnappers,

the rookies, the ordinandi, as we were called.

After participating in this event,

My classmates and I developed a saying:

“For the first five years, you were the new priest;

For the first 15 years, you would be the young priest;

after 25 years, you would be just an old priest.”

I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror

And discovered that we were right.

But what I know now, that I did not know then,

Is that after 25 years,

To be just a priest,

Even an old priest,

Is enough for me.

Amen.