Friends
Peace be with you.
About every other week during the past couple of months, I’ve been accompanying Julie Schmidt, our DRE, and some parish volunteers down to the public school and walking the kids who want to participate in our after school Faith Formation activities back to the Kruse Center. The last time we did it, it was a bit cool and rainy but, until then, it’s been fun for two reasons. First, the weather has been absolutely smashing, which makes for a great excuse to take a half hour or so and go for a walk. But, the other reason is that, when we walk past the daycare kids, I get identified with the most-high God. That’s right. The little kids think I’m God…and I’m kind of okay with that. Actually, it makes me chuckle because it happens so often with little kids and they seem to unlearn it just as quickly. None of the kids walking over to Faith Formation, for instance, greet me at the school by saying “Hi God!” but their little brother or sister might have just done so. I generally just respond that I’m not God, I just work for him. But I think that’s even harder for them to understand so I don’t push it.
I hear stories about priests who would be very comfortable being identified with God. I tend to associate that with the priests ordained prior to the Second Vatican Council: meaning guys ordained in the 1950s and 1960’s. Though, I’ve met younger guys who had a sense of self importance that they felt was integral to priesthood. I worry when I see it because this was the era of rampant sexual abuse in the church. The good old days when priests could do no wrong weren’t always all that good for some people.
Priests aren’t called to image God, even though, like all people we were created in the image and likeness of God. A priest is called another Christ or to be in the person of Christ or “in persona Christi” in Latin. I think that’s what makes our second reading from Mass kind of challenging today. The writer to the Hebrews is comparing Jesus to the high priest, a comparison the Jewish listeners to this homily would have understood that may be a bit challenging to us. The high priest took care of the Temple and offered the sacrifices there. He had a bunch of rules that he had to live by and would have been revered for his holiness. He also would have had to have been related to the ancestral tribe of Levi, one of the brothers of the Old Testament figure Joseph. The writer says that there are two ways that Jesus is like the high priest. First, the high priests aren’t above other people but they sympathize with them because they also have to offer sacrifices for their own sins. In the past few passages, the writer has been talking about how important it is for us to not confuse Jesus with a pagan god or an angel because he came down from heaven and was a human being like us. Jesus, though without sin, is like us and we know that because he took on our sins and offered them up to the Father. I appreciated how the writer says of the Old Testament priesthood and Jesus that, “He is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and the erring for he himself is beset by weakness…” Secondly, Jesus is like the high priest because he was called to this position by God. Now, this is significant because of how he was called. Whereas, the temple high priests had to be both holy and of the tribe of Levi, Jesus was not of the tribe of Levi. He was of the Tribe of Judah, meaning he couldn’t be a Temple high priest. However, the writer to the Hebrews points out an example in the Old Testament of a righteous high priest named Melchizedek who ministered before the birth of Levi and is still remembered reverently by the Jewish people. He’s even mentioned in the first Eucharistic Prayer, which I’m going to pray at this Mass. So, he says that Jesus is a priest in the order of Melchizedek instead of Levi. Melchizedek took bread and wine, gave thanks to God, and gave it to Abraham and it was credited to him as an act of righteousness.
I think it’s significant that the writer to the Hebrews isn’t saying that Jesus’ priesthood is so much better than the priesthood of the Temple high priests. I would have expected him to say that but he at least begins by pointing out similarities between the two before he starts to highlight the differences. As a priest, I am grafted onto the Old Testament priesthood through this priesthood of Jesus Christ. And, at baptism, each of us were called to a priesthood, not the ministerial priesthood that I exercise, but the priesthood of all believers. That means we share in these same things that Jesus did as well. We sin. I sometimes get frustrated when I hear people talking about Christians as though we think we are so much better or holier than others simply because we call a sin a sin. I believe sin exists and, indeed, that all have sinned and fallen short of of the glory of God. I believe that sinful acts should be confessed and that people who sin are always capable of repentance and forgiveness. But people who come to church are seeking to be holy, not already there. We sin just like those who don’t come to church.
Still, I wonder if the second part is as much of a challenge for you as it is for me. Jesus is like the high priest because he was called to this role by God. God had a plan for him that included his high priesthood to be carried out by the forgiveness of sins of the world offered by his own personal sacrifice on the cross and being through a personal calling instead of a tribal relationship to Levi. And God has a plan for you as well. God planned for you to be a husband or a wife or a single person. God gave you gifts to be a farmer or a construction worker or a teacher or a politician or whatever way you use those skills for employment. I’ll be painfully honest, perhaps a little too honest at this point, and admit that this part is a weakness for me. I love being a priest but don’t always love being a pastor. When I have a meeting with people complaining about things I don’t think are worth getting as angry about as they are or people wanting to turn things into power struggles, it makes me want to leave and go to a different assignment. This struggle I feel is similar, I would guess, to someone having a difficult time in marriage or at work: is it worth sticking it out or is it time fish or cut bait? What if God called you to that marriage? Would it change how you treated each other or how willing you were to walk away? What if God called you to that job? Would you let a owly coworker or boss move you somewhere else? It’s always possible that God is moving you somewhere else. If there’s abuse in your relationship, God would want you to leave that relationship. If you find corruption in your workplace that is systemic and is beyond your ability to root out, God would want you to leave that workplace and find another. But, that decision should be the result of prayer and consultation with other trusted advisors like your family and close friends and maybe even me.
Oh, and by the way, I do plan to be here for at least another 9 years because I do believe God called me here. He didn’t call me here because I’m perfect. I’m not. He called me despite my imperfections so that he could show his own perfection through this imperfect person, which is so often the way God works. He has a plan for you and is carrying out that plan right now. It might not be as exciting or fun as you wish it could be but that’s okay, It’s still your plan. We may feel like we don’t have the skills to do it but, in our imperfections God’s perfections shine through. I am not God because no human being is God, despite what the kids at daycare will tell you. I sin. But, I know God has a plan for me just like he has a plan for you and a plan for each one of those precious little voices yelling “Hi God!” from daycare. Do we trust in the plan of God despite our sinfulness or do we sometimes forget God’s plan because of it?
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