On Aug. 15, I celebrate the 31st anniversary of my ordination. My priesthood is the joy and privilege of my life. It is really true: I can think of no more beautiful way to spend my life than to be called to spend it in the priestly service of our Lord. I thank God for this gift every day.
And I have been honored in these past four years as your archbishop to ordain sixteen men for priestly service to the church of San Antonio.
These are all good men, men of passion, intelligence, generosity, and skill. They could have done many things with their lives. They are like those first disciples in the Gospel who were minding their own business when they heard our Lord say, “Follow me.” And they set aside their own ambitions to follow Jesus, to serve God and his people.
That is what distinguishes the priest. No one “chooses” the priesthood like you choose a job or a line of work. We are called.
Yet I have never met a priest who feels “worthy” of this calling. How could we? It is such a high call, a divine call. The priest is an ordinary human called to live an extraordinary, superhuman reality — to be “another Christ,” to offer his Body and Blood, and to speak his words of mercy and forgiveness.
St. John Vianney, the patron of parish priests, said that if we could really comprehend what it means to be a priest we would die on the spot. He is right. It is too great, too marvelous, as the psalmist said (Ps. 131:1).
But every priest knows all too well that he remains just a man, not very different from anyone else. Sometimes people forget this. They act as if ordination is a canonization —they expect their priests to be saints.
The truth is that the priest is human, too. He has strengths and weaknesses, virtues and defects; he can get grumpy and discouraged, he can lose his temper. Just like every other Christian, the priest has to struggle with selfishness and sin. He needs the sacrament of Penance as much, if not more, as those around him.
None of this is a contradiction with the high calling of his priesthood. To expect a priest not to sin is like expecting a doctor not to get sick. And in the same way that a sick doctor can still heal patients, the priest, though he is a sinner, can still help and heal other sinners.
St. Paul, who was a great priest, struggled with sin; in fact, he used to say he was the greatest of sinners. But he also said of his ministry: “By the grace of God, I am what I am” (1 Cor. 15:10).
That’s true for every priest. The priesthood is an office of grace. When the priest is at the altar or in the confessional, in a real way — a way that only God’s grace could make possible — he stands in the person of Jesus Christ. Yet, he remains a man. But by his ordination he has the power to serve as an instrument of divine grace.
These are good things for us to remember. Our faith is not in priests, or bishops for that matter. We believe in Jesus Christ, the true high priest! The priest is his servant and instrument.
I have been thinking about the gift and mystery of the priesthood for many years. That is why I am so enthusiastic about this Year for Priests declared by our Holy Father.
Next month I will publish a book for priests called Men of Brave Heart. To answer the call to the priesthood a man needs a generous heart. But to live out that call over the course of a lifetime, to give himself totally to God, a man needs a brave heart. I wrote this book to help priests grow in the virtues they need to be great and holy priests like St. John Vianney.
And in this Year for Priests, I hope all of you will make it a special priority to pray for our priests and to support them.
The Christian life is the life of a people, a family of God. None of us, including our priests, makes this journey alone. The priest is like all of us. He needs encouragement and support, he needs friends and people he can lean on.
Let’s be there for our priests. And let us ask the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of Priests, to help our priests — and all of us — to grow in holiness and love.