Fourth Sunday of Easter – Good Shepherd Sunday – 30 April 2023

Throughout the season of Easter, we reflect through the Liturgy of the Word the various ways by which the Risen Christ is present in our midst. The question put before us is, “How do we experience the Resurrected Life of Jesus? How does the One who is Risen continue to greet us and draw us into his life?” From our Catholic perspective, we affirm that Jesus lives now sacramentally: his life becomes present as “we re-read the Scriptures with him in mind, repeat his gestures in memory of him, and in our fellowship with one another” (Chauvet).   Over this last week we have reflected in our liturgy on the way in which the life of Jesus becomes present in our midst when we take, bless, break and eat bread, in the mystery of the Eucharist.  On this the fourth Sunday of Easter we reflect on the presence of the Risen Lord in the activity of shepherding, through the Sacrament of Orders, through ordained ministry and how the nature of this leadership makes present the mystery of the Risen Christ.  For this reason, we also celebrate this day as one of prayer for priestly vocations.

In this light, I would like to share with you some perspectives on how I understand my own priestly life with you, and particularly my life as a parish priest.

I think the first thing that comes to my mind as I reflect on my life as a priest is its extraordinary diversity. Entrusted with the care of a community of people in the Church, in the space of half a day I can go from preparing a homily, to celebrating the Eucharist, to being at the bedside of someone who has just died, to listening to the story of difficulty in a family, to considering the last month’s parish financial reports, to being present at a public event, representing our community. Extend this to the period of a week, and the breadth of involvement for a priest in the life of individuals, of families, of various communities is quite astounding. I am not sure that I know of any other way of life in which the sheer diversity of exposure to human situations with such consistency would be featured as much. In the course of a single week, I can find myself present as someone comes to the end of their life, grieving with those who have suffered the loss of someone they love, celebrating with a couple the joy and anticipation of beginning their life together, experiencing the wonder that always belongs to the baptism of new children, sharing in the stories of so many different people as they struggle to find meaning in their life. In the midst of these profoundly human moments, there are then all the administrative tasks required to attend to ensure our community’s life might function as smoothly as it can, the delicate task of navigating the ship, as it were, through the competing needs and personalities of people.  And most importantly, there is the reflection on all that happens in light of the Scriptures so that the Word of God might become as living and active as it can be, my need to learn how to speak out a word to the whole community that might have meaning for at least some.  All these experiences are not simply incidental or extraordinary. In my life as a priest they are ordinary and usual. And so, it is a life rich in its immersion with persons, whether as individuals or as communities. And it is lived at the very edge, at the depths of every human experience.  It is a life that is as exhilarating as it is tiring, a way of living which is deeply humbling in the recognition that one’s life has meaning for others. 

A week can be constant in its activity and demands. However, my life as a priest is not simply about what I might do for you. It is a way of being with you.  I live with you and feel your joy and I feel your pain; I live your questions and carry your hope.  I recognize in you the very body of the living Lord in that self-offering which is the very heart of Christian worship. Through you, I experience my priesthood coming into being.  Indeed, I discover my priesthood in yours – the priestly character you have by virtue of your own baptism. Yours is a priesthood exercised with such variety, with such undramatic generosity, in myriad ministries that you undertake for the benefit of the community.  Not a week goes by when I am not astonished in learning of someone’s selflessness, of their astounding commitment and faithfulness as they reach out both to those for whom they had personal responsibility and for those beyond their own family circle, especially in the midst of considerable difficulties and often in the face of suffering.  Time and time again, I am humbled by the breadth of the generosity of time given by so many so that our community might enjoy the vitality that it does.  I see all this exercised with such warmth, kindness and graciousness, a gentle humour and a simple delight. 

Through all of this, emerges that unmistakable bond between pastor and people – a bond that is received, never possessed. It is that bond that is the greatest joy of priestly life.  Yes, a priest is ordained to give visibility to the community of faith entrusted to his care. He embodies the community for which he has responsibility, something tangibly accentuated by his celibacy. But that mutual identification is known in all the simple gestures that give that bond form – when you share with me your sickness and your struggle, when you ask me to pray for you and your families, when you trust me with the friendship of your children, when you show me love and concern as you do every day, and express how you want to share in my own struggle. Our lives then become entwined: the life of the priest and the life of the community become one. Therein lies the unbelievable sacredness and possibility of priestly life, discovered in the full recognition of my own vulnerability, my own fragility and my own sinfulness. And somewhere, somehow, in the midst of all this is intuited the presence of the Risen Lord. Priestly life makes present the life of the Lord not because it possesses that life in some isolated way. It makes present the life of the Lord because of the rich inter-relationships between us.

Priesthood is a wonderful way to live. It is also essential for us Church. From our Catholic understanding and experience, there can be no local church without its priest. Yet, we realise our need for priests is great indeed. As we know currently without the courageous assistance of priests internationally we would be in very significant difficulty as a Church in Australia, and in our own diocese. However, the sign of a community’s health is its ability to encourage vocations from its own ranks.   Perhaps there are not too many in our church today who are eligible for Ordination.  But I ask you, do you encourage your sons, and grandsons to consider the Lord’s call to priesthood? This is, in fact, one of the primary reasons for the crisis in priestly vocations today: for different reasons, we have stopped encouraging our young men to consider priesthood.  It is easy for us to get caught into thinking,  “Yes, how desperately we need priests, as long as it is not my son. Or as long as it is not me.”  Time does not allow us this morning to open up why we would discourage our own son or grandson to follow this way of discipleship, this unique and extraordinary form of human leadership.  However, to pray for vocations without actively encouraging them places us in a circle without end. 

I am your priest today, because of the encouragement given by my own family and through the friendship and quality of the priests who were our friends when I was going up in Tasmania. My simple prayer on this Good Shepherd Sunday is that my own life with you might, in some small way, invite you to encourage you to think about this way of living as one rich with possibility, so that the life of the Risen Christ might be encountered in all its fullness now and into the future.