Tonight (Holy Thursday) we celebrate the Mass of the Lord's Supper, which celebrates the institution of the Most Holy Eucharist – Jesus present among us Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, and the institution of the sacred priesthood, without which the Eucharist would not be possible.
When thinking about this particular celebration, I think the Lord has been asking me to reflect on priesthood and Eucharist and why these two realities are inseparable.
I was only 14 years old when I had my first contact with a Catholic priest or the Catholic Church. I was searching for a deeper relationship with the Lord, and I was looking all over for it. The first time I walked into a Catholic church, though, I sensed that something was clearly different. It was a completely different experience from any of the other churches I had visited or attended. Obviously there were the external things: the statues, the altar rail, the crucifix, the votive candles. But what struck me was a deep sense of Presence, emanating from the tabernacle. The red candle and the tabernacle exuded a Presence that shook me inside. Everything in me said, "God is here." That experience led to the beginning of my Catholic life.
The first priest I encountered was Monsignor Eugene Livelsberger. As his name indicates he was of German decent, and he could instill a healthy fear of God in just about anybody, but definitely a naïve Baptist boy from Hickory. There was something else about Monsignor, however, that I came to know. While the folks who didn't take the time to get to know him thought he was rough and autocratic, the priest I came to know and love had the heart of a true father. He loved his people, and he loved them so much that he would always tell them the truth – even when it hurt. For that he was often hurt by the people he loved, but he persevered and pressed on.
I still remember the day Monsignor Livelsberger announced his retirement. I don't know what the situation was, but there was a particularly unpleasant altercation between him and a new parishioner from somewhere up north who thought Monsignor should do things his way. Monsignor stood his ground, of course, and whatever followed must have been very painful because he broke down in tears during the celebration of Mass and announced that he was retiring. That experience taught me a lot about that particular priest and a lot about the priesthood.
You see, we priests are neither super-human nor inhuman. We are simply human. We laugh, we cry, we get angry, and we can be hurt. We can be stubborn, we can be humble, we can be loving, and we can be hateful. We can be all of the things everyone else can be, but in the midst of all that, we have to be something that not everyone can be. We have to be Christ for others. We have to be an "alter Christus," another Christ.
While with that call in this world comes many blessings too countless to number, it also brings with it the reality of the cross. A reality that the world does not understand and which many simply reject. Yet that cross has to be our greatest treasure as priests, because it is only through the crucifixion that we can experience the Eucharist and the resurrection.
Recently ISIS members in Yemen broke into a compound of the Missionaries of Charity where the sisters ran a home for the aged and infirm. The terrorists killed the guards, and they killed the sisters. But they kidnapped the priest. Rather than running to hide when he heard the commotion, Father Tom Uzhunnalil, the chaplain, ran to the chapel and consumed the reserved Blessed Sacrament so that the terrorists could not desecrate it.
What he did before being apprehended is really at the heart of what we celebrate tonight. Because we believe and know by faith that after they are consecrated at Mass at the hands of the priest, ordinary bread and wine become the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus. Father Tom knew that his first obligation was not to try to save himself, or anyone else for that matter, but to protect His Lord and God in the Eucharist, who makes Himself weak and humble so that we, undeserving as we are, can receive Him.
The Eucharist, at least in the Western or Latin Church, is entrusted to celibate priests not because we are perfect; we are certainly not. The Eucharist is entrusted to us because we can sacrifice everything for our Lord and our people, even to the point of shedding our blood.
A recently ordained priest was sharing with me recently something that one of his professors told him regarding Auschwitz. On a wall at the concentration camp, there is a hash mark record of people who died there, different nationalities, different groupings. The wall where the clergy are listed separates them by denomination, and under the section where the Catholic priests are numbered, the hash marks are quite numerous. Why? Because they were unencumbered by families or earthly concerns. They could give themselves so others might live, as St. Maximilian Kolbe did, and they could resist the Nazi propaganda because they could not be threatened with the death of their families if they failed to submit. They were celibates for the Kingdom.
Celibacy often gets a bad rap, but it is a gift that allows us to give ourselves completely – not in marriage, but in sacrifice. It's what allows us to take the sick call at two in the morning or drop everything to go and hear someone's confession. It is not always easy, and it is certainly not for every man. But for those who are called to make the sacrifice it is worth it, because in the mystery of it all, it is the gift that allows greater giving and greater sacrifice. And, most importantly, it is the gift that allows the one sacrifice of Christ to continue so that all might be nourished with His Body and Blood.
One of my favorite descriptions of the priesthood was written by a Dominican priest, Father Henri Lacordaire. I ask you to pray it for your priests. Pray for the priests you've known in the past, the priests you know now, and the priests the Lord will send you in the future. Our diocese is embarking on a wonderful adventure by beginning a college seminary this fall, and we need your prayers and your sacrifices so that we who are priests now and those who will be priests in the future will have the strength, the courage and the love to embrace the cross and follow Christ.
To live in the midst of the world
Without wishing its pleasures;
To be a member of each family,
Yet belonging to none;
To share all suffering;
To penetrate all secrets;
To heal all wounds;
To go from men to God and offer Him their prayers;
To return from God to men to bring pardon and hope;
To have a heart of fire for Charity,
And a heart of bronze for Chastity;
To teach and to pardon,
Console and bless always.
My God, what a life; and it is yours,
O priest of Jesus Christ.
Father John Putnam is the pastor of St. Mark Church in Huntersville. This is excerpted from a homily he delivered March 24 for the Mass of the Lord's Supper.
The Christian faithful are obliged, according to Church Law (Canon 222), to assist with the needs of the Church for worship, apostolic works, charity, and the support of ministers. They are also to promote social justice and to assist the poor using their own resources.
These are natural obligations of all people, not just Christians.
The question of social justice emerged at the Second Vatican Council as a central theme of Christianity. No single topic has received more attention than the major concern to the Church for social justice and helping the poor in the last 100-plus years from Pope Leo XIII to Pope Francis.
In accord with this canon, priests and deacons are to receive compensation consistent with their obligations (Canon 281). The laity have the right to decent remuneration to provide for their own needs and those of their families. This remuneration is to include health care, a pension and social security benefits (Canons 231 and 232).
Furthermore, Canon 1286 states that administrators are to pay employees a just and decent wage, and Canon 1290 requires that civil law contracts and payments be followed.
Editor's note: This series about the rights and obligations of the Christian faithful, as set forth in canon (Church) law, has been written especially for the Catholic News Herald by Mercy Sister Jeanne-Margaret McNally. Sister Jeanne-Margaret is a distinguished authority on canon law, author of the reference guide "Canon Law for the Laity," and frequent lecturer at universities and dioceses.
A graduate of The Catholic University of America with multiple degrees including a doctorate in psychology and a licentiate of canon law (JCL), she is a psychologist for the Tribunal of the Diocese of Charlotte and a judge in the Metropolitan Tribunal of the Archdiocese of Miami.