I would describe myself,
in my early years, as an “anxious” person. To be “anxious” is to be “uneasy and
apprehensive about something uncertain” or to be “worried.” It’s all
about that awful thing that might happen next. This was
especially true when I left Meade County, at age 14, and entered St. Thomas
Seminary High School here in Louisville. I experienced being “a lost ball in
tall weeds” as I entered my first-round of “culture shock!”
Those who have lived with
spouse abuse or lived with a raging alcoholic or drug addicted person also know
what I mean. Living in anxiety is a lot like living with a ticking time-bomb
strapped to your leg – only day and night every day. It is living in dread,
living on “pins and needles,” “waiting for the other shoe to drop,” waiting to
“hit bottom” after falling. It is no way to live and only those who have been
there understand what I am talking about.
As a small child, anxiety
was a simple passing experience – the terror of hiding under covers,
wide-awake, after my older sister, Brenda, had told convincing ghost stories or
during the height of a crashing, booming rainstorm.
As a fifteen-year-old from “the
country” in a high school seminary in “the city,” my anxiety
was about the fear of failure, the fear of not being good enough, the fear of
rejection, the fear of being laughed at for being a “hillbilly,” the fear of
being bullied because I was “skinny” and the fear of not having enough money to
live on during the school year.
As a young priest, anxiety
was about being threatened by the Ku Klux Klan, being scorned in public by some
Protestant ministers for being a Catholic and for being a liberal Catholic by
fundamentalist Catholics, being stalked by a knife wielding schizophrenic for
welcoming fallen-away marginal Catholics back to church, watching years of work
and dreams crack and almost fall to the ground in front of me during the
Cathedral renovation, sleeping with one eye open for years after having my home
burglarized three times, being ashamed of being a priest and of maybe being
falsely accused during wave after wave of bad news during the sexual abuse
scandal and waiting for the results of a biopsy that might have been
cancer.
As an older priest,
anxiety had to do with three major disappointments when one great assignment
ended and my plans for what I expected to do next burned and crash on the
launch pad. It was only then that I found out that the Plan B that God had in
store actually turned out better than the Plan A that I wanted to happen. It
was then that I realized that all my anxiety had been one big waste of
time.
At 82, this may be the
most anxiety free time of my life. Today, I know “peace,” the opposite of
“anxiety.” I have a safe place to live. I have enough saved to live
comfortably and a little saved for the future. I have a few successes behind me
and I have a variety of wonderful small jobs to wake up to every day. I feel
accepted by myself and, as far as I know, I am loved by most of those who know me.
Most of all, I discovered
the cure for “anxiety.” I am more at peace now. than I have ever been, because
I have discovered the “good news” that Jesus came to bring. I have come to
understand and know that I am loved by God, without condition, and in the end
that everything is going to turn out OK, even if I may still have to face the
challenges of old age, bad health and, God forbid, a painful
death. Yes, I have to admit that heading into 83, I have that
feeling I used to get when I was walking across thin ice wondering when it
would crack and I would suddenly find myself in a real crisis. However, because
of the peace that God gives those who believe in his “good news,” I am
confident that he will help me handle the rest of the way whatever comes my way
because his way is always the better way!
"Peace!" These
words of Jesus were not only addressed to the terrified disciples, huddled
together and cringing in fear, in that upper room after his crucifixion, as
well as Paul addressed to the anxious Philippians, these words are addressed to
all of us Catholics today; whether you are a student worried about grades,
finances or the fall-out of a bad choice made in the heat of passion; whether
you are living in abusive relationship or an unsafe environment or with
constant discrimination for being different; whether you are unemployed and in
debt up to your ears or barely handling a chronic health problem; whether you
are a single parent trying to make it on your own; whether you are religiously
scrupulous and live in constant fear of a punishing God and can’t let go of it
or whether you are facing a major health crisis, Jesus addresses his words to
you today. ‘Peace be with you! Calm down! It’s going to be OK! When all is
said and done, things are going to turn out just fine. I am with you! Trust me
with Plan B!'
Anxiety is worry about
what might happen. Peace is the awareness that
everything will be OK no matter what happens. Trust
in God is the only way to peace. Peace is God’s gift to us and it is based on
the “good news” that we are loved and that great things await us – because God
said so!
Let me end with one of my favorite prayers by Saint Francis de Sales.
I cannot read this story without being
reminded that “changes in the church” have always been a part of our history,
even in the very early church. I cannot read this story without also thinking
about the necessity of pulling in more people to do ministry as the church has expanded.
Also, I cannot think about how church
leaders have always needed help in carrying out their ministry without thinking
of the story of Aaron and Hur holding up the hands of Moses in battle in the
Book of Exodus (17:12). "As long as Moses kept his hands raised
up, Israel had the better of the fight. Aaron and Hur supported
his hands, one on one side and one on the other, so that his hands remained
steady till sunset."
Nor can I read the story of Aaron
and Hur holding up the two arms of Moses without thinking about one of the best
descriptions of deacons and priests and their relationship to the bishop that I
have ever read. Deacons and priests serve as the two arms of the bishop as he
carries out his ministry. It is in Walter Cardinal Kasper's book Leadership
in the Church: How Traditional Roles Can Serve the Christian Community Today.
One of the great things to come out of
Vatican Council II was the restoration of the deaconate. Now various motives
were behind this restoration, including a vision of relieving the pressure of a
future priest-shortage. The council rejected this idea because the deaconate is
an autonomous grade of the sacrament of orders, not a substitute in places
where priests were lacking nor one particular form of lay ministry. The council
fathers saw the deaconate as vitally necessary to the life of the church and,
with the presbyterate, one ordained ministry, of which the episcopacy is the
fullness, going back past medieval developments to early church ordination
liturgies and patristic theology. The deaconate and the presbyterate have
different tasks and denote two different structures, but must collaborate with
one another because they both participate in the bishop's ministry and both are
immediately subordinate to the bishop.
The Council saw the deaconate and the
presbyterate as graded participation in the bishop’s ministry. The deaconate is
not a subordination to the presbyterate. The presbyter and the
deacon are subordinate to the bishop directly – his two arms so to speak. The
deacon is not an "almost priest,” nor one who fills in the gap where no
priests are available, nor should it be seen as transitional stage on the path
to priesthood.
The main role of the deacon, as the
bishop’s representative, is to lead, inspire and motivate the whole church to
service in collaboration with priests. Deacons do not do service for the
church, but make sure the church is doing service. This necessary leadership
role does not dispense the laity, the bishop or the priest from their own
service tasks. Deacons are charged with promoting service in
the whole church, to inspire, motivate and train others for service, not to do
it all personally for the church.
At liturgy, it is the deacon’s
responsibility to bring the needs of the community, especially the poor, to the
table. It is the deacon who trains and guides volunteers, as well as, lay
ministers. The deacon is the contact person to governmental services. No matter
what he is doing, the deacon’s role is to make sure the church is serving, not
to be an “almost priest” nor, as I have experienced on occasion, a “dress-up
deacon” who likes to wear robes and pectoral crosses bigger than the bishop
himself and just perform liturgical functions, but could care less about the messy ministry of service.
Neither priest nor deacon carries out
his own ministry. Both help the bishop carry out his ministry. The gradations
in the participation in the bishop's ministry thus denote two separate arms,
which have different tasks but must collaborate with one another in unity.
In a real sense, both deacons and priests
"make the bishop present" in the communities entrusted to them. Both deacons and priests make a “promise of obedience.” That promise does not mean, “Yes, boss,
I’ll do it if you force me to do it!” It simply means that we promise not to be
overly attached to our own preferences and points of view so that the unified
ministry of the bishop is made visible and is realized in the diocese.
I have no idea where the church will
be going in the future as it adapts to the changes of the world in which it
finds itself, but I do know that it will need to change or it will find itself
in an impossible situation of trying to lead from behind.
I have a feeling, only a personal feeling
mind you, that the married deaconate, as well as our recent ordination of former
married Protestant clergy, is preparing us for an expansion into more married priests,
while celibacy will remain an option. Even at that, I certainly do not believe
that married priests will automatically be a solution to our priest shortage. Protestant
clergy, and Jews as well for that matter, have both married and women clergy
and are also facing a severe shortage of clergy.
There is one change that I see would be helpful and that is the expansion of deacons being able to celebrate the
Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick in hospitals and nursing homes. They are
the ones who visit the sick more often than priests in today’s church, but a
priest needs to be called to celebrate that Sacrament instead of a Deacon.
At 82, I will not be here to see
either of those changes happen, but I do realize that I have seen more changes
happen in my lifetime that I ever imagined growing up in the pre-Vatican II
Church or back when I knew very little about the history of our Church. All I do know is that we have always changed,
that we are changing as I speak and we will continue to change till the end of
time as Jesus promised! I also know that some will like the changes, some won’t
like the changes, but we will change anyway, like it or not!
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