In the 25 years since I founded Project Rachel, the post-abortion healing ministry of the Church, I have witnessed firsthand the gift that priests are to the world. I have seen the heart of the priest repeatedly. It is generous, compassionate, willing to sacrifice for others.

At the inception of Project Rachel, when some thought post-abortion ministry was a hare-brained idea, the priests here in Milwaukee supported it as did my bishop. As I was planning the training, one priest told me not to be disappointed because he didn’t think any priests were going to come, but 60 priests came and generously embraced this new ministry of mercy. And 25 years later, those priests are still involved in the work. If there is anything I need, they are immediately willing to help.

Across the country many priests actively keep me and the ministry in prayer, recognizing that prayer is powerful and protective.

Several times I have received calls on our referral line from elderly women somewhere in the U.S. looking to reconcile an abortion loss from 40 or 50 years ago. They have said to me “I can’t ask my children to take me to confession because they will say “Ma, you are old. What could you possibly need to confess?” And in every case, I was able to find a priest who would make a house call to ease the fears of an old woman preparing to die.

A priest who was preparing to leave the priesthood received a Project Rachel call the night before submitting his resignation to the bishop. But as he spoke with the woman, he knew he couldn’t leave the priesthood until he had seen this process through with her. When he finished it, he tore up the letter because, he said, he had rediscovered the meaning of his priesthood in this sacramental encounter that set the woman free.

A delayed vocation seminarian I met through a God appointment asked me what the most difficult part of my ministry was and I responded “raising money.” This former businessman supported my ministry for several years while divesting himself of his earthly riches before ordination. How many lives were touched because of his incredible generosity?

It was the pastoral awareness of the bishops of this country, who, as confessors, recognized the pain of women who had had abortions, and called for a ministry of post-abortion healing in the first Pastoral Plan for Pro-Life Activities, issued shortly after abortion became the law of the land. And it is this pastoral heart that motivated bishops to personally call me after the founding of the ministry to ask how they could make it happen in their diocese.

A woman who had been convinced by her doctor to abort a child with severe anomalies called me after the hospital had released her dead baby to her, as she and her husband were grieving profoundly over this loss. The hospital had referred her to a chaplain, but he had been of little use, refusing to help them bury their child. I called an experienced Project Rachel priest and explained the circumstances to him. He was a canon lawyer with years of post-abortion experience. He went to the family, held them as they wept, gave their child a proper burial and soothed the wounds left by the insensitive chaplain, keeping them in the Church. She called to tell me what a gift he had been to them as he came into my office to thank me for the opportunity to minister to them.

A woman will often call after speaking to a priest she has been referred to, to tell me of her profound experience of God’s love and mercy brought to her through the priest. She will say “Please tell the priests how grateful we are to them for what they have said and been … the mercy and love of God made manifest, the wisdom of the Spirit speaking to our souls, indeed Father was Jesus with skin for me! Alter Christus made manifest!”

To the many Project Rachel priests in the this country and to the multitudes of confessors who soothe a woman’s terror, confront her despair, set her free of her sin and bring her home to the Lord and her lost children: Thank you from the depths of my heart. Without you, this ministry of Project Rachel would not exist! And on behalf of the multitudes of people who have touched: Thank you! You change the world, one heart and soul at a time.

___________

Victoria Thorn – is the founder of Project Rachel Post-Abortion Ministry. She is also the founder and ongoing director of the National Office of Post-Abortion Reconciliation and Healing based in Milwaukee. Mrs. Thorn is an internationally renowned author and speaker on healing and reconciliation in the aftermath of abortion.

The apostle was a missionary figure founding communities, then moving on. Contact was maintained through letters, messengers and occasional visits. The priest who emerged in history was to be predominantly a residential figure living among the congregation for whom he cared.

The New Testament paradigm for this figure is a respected elder who, in the Pauline churches, seemed to combine the two identities of presbyter and bishop.

It is not until the writings of Ignatius of Antioch (ca 100CE) do we have a clear situation where there is a single bishop with presbyters as his helpers. These presbyters become what we call priests though originally the term referred to bishops. The presbyter-bishop had the responsibility of pastoral care of the churches and the NT writings (pastoral epistles, 1 Peter and Acts) give a picture of their activities in the 80s if not earlier.

These presbyter-bishops took up where the Pauline apostles left off being responsible for the continued care of churches founded by the apostles or which came on the scene later.

In the first and second letters to Timothy and the letter to Titus we find delegates of Paul (or, more likely, of followers of Paul) spelling out what is expected of the presbyter-bishops as to character and work.

The desired characteristics are the highly institutional ones we might expect of a group within the Roman empire intent on survival rather than drawing attention to itself as a suspect group.

The presbyter-bishops must be above reproach, temperate, sensible, dignified, hospitable, apt teachers, gentle and not quarrelsome (1 Tim 3:1-7; Titus 1:7-9). One wonders if Paul himself would have fitted such a list given his fiery temperament and the historical context of his mission. Giving birth to a child is a vastly different process from raising it!

They also serve
The apostle is a charismatic rather than an institutionalised figure. New frontiers and the adventure of spiritual conquest call Paul and his missionary followers; a more pedestrian pattern beckons the presbyter-bishop.

Yet Paul pays such a necessary role the deserved compliment of placing administration as a charism (1 Cor 12:28) along with apostleship, prophecy, teaching, healing, etc.

Later works in the Pauline tradition go on to speak of such leaders as being able to manage their own households well as this being ideal preparation for managing the household of God (1 Tim 3:4-5), a reminder that married clergy have a history as far back as the apostles and that a family household was the very foundation and context of the Christian movement.

The task facing the presbyter-bishop was that of organisation, stabilising and preventing dangerous innovation (Titus 1:9).

It might be tempting to join the anti-institutional bandwagon and find the apostle the more exciting and attractive figure when compared with the rather staid presbyter-bishop, but it is worth remembering that without the permanent institutional element the work of the apostle would soon have faded into history.

The pastoral picture
Some aspects of the NT portrait of the presbyter-bishop are of enduring interest as formative elements for the later priesthood. Certain requirements have to be met beyond virtuous character: he is not to be a recent convert (time is needed to mature in faith) nor is he to have been married twice (1 Tim 3:2, 6) – an indication that the church community needed evidence of competency in primary human relationships among those to whom one is most constantly and fully accountable.

It is clear that the early church did not follow Paul’s example as unmarried in ministry, but the church does have the right to make regulations regarding its own ministry. It would also be a timely and vitally necessary issue in our own day for this same church to determine why in some people celibacy has been a fruitful success and in others an unmitigated disaster.

Pastorals and presbyters
The presbyter-bishop in the Pastorals has the duty of correcting and censoring: ‘he must hold firm to the sure word as taught so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to refute those who contradict it,’ (Titus 1:9).

Whatever the structure set up “to amend what was defective” (v.5) that structure and the teaching of sound doctrine will be fruitful only if the church is constituted by church leaders and members who lead irreproachable lives.

The ideal is set up in Titus 1:7-8, ‘For an overseer as steward of God must be blameless; he must not be arrogant or violent or greedy for gain, but hospitable, a lover of goodness, master of himself, upright, holy and self-controlled.’

The office here is of ‘steward’, overseeing the labour of the household and its products. The steward also managed the outside assets of the household. For this reason, trustworthiness and honesty were essential qualifications.

So much of what has been described in the Pastorals complements the service of the apostle – censoring and correcting yet kindly and forbearing in his teaching with the duty of caring for the community finances.

Clearly, bishops and priests can be overly involved in administration (unlike Jesus and Paul), but the NT does show the presbyter-bishop (and, by implication, the later priests) as being both administrator and shepherd. The latter is beautifully expressed in Acts 20:28: ‘Care for the flock in which the Holy Spirit has made you episkopos (overseer, guardian, inspector) to feed the church of the Lord which he obtained with his own blood.’

Reference: Raymond E Brown: Priest and Bishop: Biblical Reflections.

Source: Wel-com

When things are in transition and the old certainties, languages and systems seem to be dissolving, the question of identity becomes a recurring anxiety. Although the sacrament of priesthood confers its own immutable character, identity is always worked out in a context, in a community, in relationships. As these change then so will the experience of ministry and its range. In this situation identity will appear unstable and meaning difficult to establish with confidence. Yet, in an odd way the immutable character of the sacrament of priesthood commits the priest to these relationships in all their fluidity – relationships he does not choose but is given; relationships that he cannot simply shake off.

Even when such relationships are at their most painful, somehow they continue to shape and determine a life, a ministry, a way of being. The sacrament does not remove the priest from the world, from the lives of the people he is called to serve, from the Church that walks the rough path of history, living with generosity and love in cultures that are hostile or simply uncomprehending. Instead it commits him more completely and more insistently to live in all these realities. Always in his life is the dynamic of the incarnation. It carries him beyond himself into the depths of the world, the secret places of the human heart and the human dream and, of course, the brokenness of both.

He lives there, with his people, knowing the poverty of his own resources; the daily encounter with his fragility and the many things he does not know, the answers he does not have. In these moments he can only trust to the future – not so much a time but a person whom he has come to know and love as his Lord. He lives with the struggle, with the pull to withdraw – just a little – to take control and to measure out his energy, choose his paths and find his resting places. He knows that he was not called for his strengths but for his weakness. He knows that those consoling words of Paul, that God’s strength is perfected in his weakness, are not empty words. But when he has to drink from the cup of weakness or eat the bread of his loneliness, when the drag of routine can almost hollow out any strong sense of identity that has life, it is not easy to live these things as a real grace, a real moment of meeting with the God who has called him. But if he does not give in to fear, rush into activity or find some theology or spirituality that will offer comfort and security, if he can hand himself over to the faith the Church has in him and remain faithful to the sacrament at the centre of his life, something begins to disclose itself. Slowly, over a lifetime, he does not discover an answer but an act, a way of being. It is a way of being hidden.

Our culture makes us want to know who we are. It commands us to ‘be ourselves’, to be the masters and makers of our lives; this is the ultimate freedom. But the priest is not self-made; all he has, he has received. This is the mystery at the centre of his life and in every moment he is ‘given’, handed over. He remains an enigma to himself, a puzzle, because he can never be in command of the sacrament that has now claimed him; the One who has made his home in him. All he can do is receive himself from the sacrament which is effective in every minute of his life whatever his situation or condition.

Bishop Peter Cullinane

It is also a time for us to reflect on the meaning of ordained ministry in a context however, that is often negative. Our priesthood has been undermined in ways that make us all feel ashamed. The scandal of clergy sex abuse is one example and readers will be able to think of others. We cannot and must not ignore this.

But it is also being undermined in subtler ways. To suggest that Pope Benedict’s ‘inspired move’ from a Year of Paul to a Year of the Priest was intended to draw a contrast between Paul who was ‘never ordained’ and ordained priesthood is to misrepresent the Pope’s intentions.

To suggest that priests are being asked to reflect on ‘what “added value” ordination brings to baptism…’ is to distort the discussion. Ordination was never about ‘added value’.

To draw conclusions about ordination based on the earliest years of the apostolic era before the church’s ministries had finished developing is to be selective indeed.

None of our ministries—in their present form—is to be found in the New Testament scriptures. Instead we find a plurality of charisms, roles and ministries. By a gradual process that began even during the lifetime of the apostles and continued after their deaths, some of these roles and ministries coalesced into the ordained ministries we have inherited. Any research that limits itself to the earliest writings of the apostolic era disqualifies itself from understanding the ministries we have today, and even from understanding the origins of these ministries in the New Testament writings as a whole.

Nor can we ignore the light thrown on the apostolic era by writers such as Clement of Rome, writing just 40 years after Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians and Ignatius of Antioch, who lived during the latter part of the apostolic era itself.

The emergence of clericalism The coalescence of New Testament roles and ministries into the ministries of deacons, presbyters and bishops is one thing; the development of these into a kind of privileged and separate class within the church is another.

Various sociological factors contributed to this less fortunate development: for example, the kind of leadership that was sometimes expected of bishops at the time when the magistrates of the Roman Empire were becoming less effective; the better opportunities that clergy had for acquiring an education than did most lay people after the Barbarian invasions; and even the use of Old Testament terminology by the early fathers of the church, to describe Christian ministry—all these factors contributed to setting the clergy apart and above, resulting in privileges and exemptions that even became incorporated into medieval civil and canon law.

The undoing of clericalism Social scientists speak of ‘group bias’, which results from a natural tendency to describe any organisation by reference to those in it whose profile is more prominent. Historically, the clergy and religious have had the highest profile in the church so when people have referred to the church, they have often meant its priests and religious. It was an easy step from there to assume that the call to holiness was mainly for religious and less for others; and responsibility for the mission of the church mainly for those who were ordained.

These assumptions are not harmless. Is it really harmless for people to think that some belong to the church more and some less depending on whether or not they are ordained? Or that holiness of life is less accessible to those who are not priests or religious? Or that responsibility for the mission of the church does not come with one’s baptism? Is it really harmless to be under the impression that those who are not ordained participate in the Eucharist less than those who are ordained? Is it really harmless to imagine that particular callings within the church somehow ‘add’ to baptism?

These perceptions—even when they are the perceptions of lay people—are what we mean by clericalism.

Cover of CD Single "Give thanks to the Lord."

Chris wrote the song in response to Pope Benedict’s announcement regarding “Year for Priests” and he recorded it on the feast of St John Vianney.

Chris commented that, “While recording I was conscious of priests I’ve known down the years – Fr Frank Skinner, Dad’s brother, Fr Bob Lee SM, Mum’s brother – and the priest who assisted Dad when he was dying, my own Marist priest confreres past and present, our strengths and weaknesses and our humanity.”

The CD single comes with the original song sung by Chris, a backing track, and a piano / guitar / lyrics sheet. “I think the song would be great and moving as background to data show of a priest’s life, jubilee and funeral. Combined voices singing the song at an ordination would be brilliant too.” Chris said.

A sampler of “Give thanks to the Lord” is available here as both a 128k and 320k files

Song for Year of the Priest (128k MP3)

To get your copy of the CD Single please send $11.50 ($10 + $1.50 postage) to:
Chris Skinner Music
PO Box 24239
Manners Street
Wellington 6142
New Zealand

Lyrics
Come priests of the world and God’s holy people
Celebrate the gift of the priest
Faithfulness to Christ and his people
Give thanks to the Lord
With love in our hearts for those who have laboured
And hope for the ones just starting out
From young to the old and those who have gone now
Give thanks to the Lord

For Christ gave us the priesthood,
the night before he died
He shared his life and his mission
Promised to be at their side.

Holy St John Vianney we honour
As patron of the priests of the world
Cure of Ars, bestow your blessing
Give thanks to the Lord
You dedicated your life to your people
Through service and prayer
Transformed their lives
You won their hearts for Christ the Good Shepherd
Give thanks to the Lord

For Christ gave us …….

We are aware that life has its moments
Times of sorrow and times to rejoice.
The priest offers words and signs of Christ’s presence
Give thanks to the Lord
Come priests of the world and God’s holy people
Give thanks for the priests who’ve served us well
And for the ones who today hear God calling
Give thanks to the Lord

For Christ gave us …….

Giver of life, friend of the broken
Spirit of love, breath of rebirth
Breathe in us, the light of the Gospel
Renew the face of the earth
Renew the face of the earth

It was in 1813 that Jean-Marie Vianey began his first year of theology at the major seminary of Saint-Irenee in Lyons on All Saints day, with Marcellin Champagnat, Jean-Claude Colin, Etienne Declas, Phillippe Janvier, Jean-Baptiste Seyve, Etienne Terraillon who were among the first Marist aspirants.

Less than six weeks after the beginning of the school year, on 9 December, M. Vianey was “sent back to his parish priest” because of his inadequacy with Latin. He returned to the seminary for the examination of June 1814 and then for the preparation to the diaconate beginning in May and extending through to 23 June 1815. He was then ordained a priest on 13 August 1815 in the seminary chapel at Grenoble & immediately appointed as assistant in Ecully.

Did Jean-Marie Vianey know of the project of a Society of Mary, was he one of the seminarians that gave his name to this undertaking? “There again,” says Cost, “ we must answer absolutely in the negative” (p.375).

“It was only during the school year of 1815-16 that the Marist project became generally known in the seminary and that a group of aspirants was formed. At that time, M. Vianey was already engaged in parish ministry. We must therefore exclude categorically that he was ever a member of the group of future Marists” says Coste (p.375).

From the records of ordinations of the archdiocese of Lyons:

• 23 June 1815: Diaconate for M Champagnat, J-C Colin, Declas, Terraillon, Vianey, in the chapel of Saint-Irenee’s seminary, conferred by Bishop Simon.

• 13 August 1815: Priesthood for Jean-Marie Vianey in Grenoble, in the seminary chapel, conferred by Bishop Simon.

• 22 July 1816: Priesthood for M Champagnat, J-C Colin, Courveille, Declas, Terraillon in the chapel of Saint-Irenee’s seminary, conferred by Bishop Dubourg.

Fr Colin on the Cure of Ars

“It is evident that Fr Colin went many times to Ars, but that he was not the guest of his former fellow student, as Fr Declas was to be. Like all other pilgrims, he listened to the Cure and had some conversations with him” Coste, p.381.

“That which evidently attracts Fr Colin to Ars is the example of scorn for the world given by the holy Cure, and it is in this light that he speaks of him to his religious. Won over by this eminent sanctity of this priest, he seems to have had some hesitation in presenting him as a model, for fear, perhaps, lest the Marists attach themselves to certain of the more eccentric traits of Abbe Vianey, or to his manner of preaching. In short, there is no trace of great intimacy or enthusiasm, but sincere admiration for a priest who was sanctifying himself in his own vocation and was giving to everyone a great lesson in detachment” (Coste, p.383).

The Cure of Ars on Fr Colin

“Not only did the Cure d’Ars and Fr Colin meet again after their days at the major seminary, but that they had a profound admiration one for the other, and did not hesitate to canonize each other while still living, as was done, for that mater, more easily in those days than now. Detachment and scorn for the world on the one hand & great devotion to the Blessed Virgin on the other, seem to be the characteristics which each found most striking in the other. (p. 387).

The Cure d’Ars and Fr Declas

“If, among the future Marists whom Jean-Marie Vianney knew at the seminary, there is one who deserves to be considered his friend in the full sense of the word, it was not Marcellin Champagnat nor Jean-Claude Colin, but Etienne Declas. (p.387).

“While Fr Colin, when he went to Ars, stayed in a house in the village, Fr Declas did not hesitate to share a meal with the Cure, and to speak to him familiarly about his missions. If to this we add the fact of their friendship in the seminary, (were in the same philosophy division at Verrieres, even though Declas was 3 years older than Vianney), we may conclude that the Marist with whom the Cure d’Ars was on the greatest terms of intimacy was without doubt the ‘Apostle of the Bugey,’ who, like him, had a burning desire to save sinners, and an indefatigable zeal in the confessional” (p.391).

Brian O'Connell sm

This may have come not a minute too soon. Some journalists even in church media have been predicting the demise of the priesthood for some time now. And the news does not get any better. Waves of new revelations of clerical abuse arise regularly, and more seminaries are still precariously near to closing in many Western countries. There is some good news – numbers of recruits in British seminaries are up, and in Seoul, South Korea for example, two seminaries each have 400+ students. The Regional Seminary in Suva is full. However the way to healing and restoration of morale of the present generation of clergy is not obvious.

About the time the Holy Father launched the Year of the Priest my Marist ordination group began our 40th year as priests. Of the 18 Aspirants who began in my year, 12 took First Vows two years later, 6 were ordained to priesthood, of whom 3 remain in ministry. Of our corresponding group at the diocesan seminary 32 started, 9 were ordained, and 5 are still in ministry. This geometric attrition rate is fairly common for intakes in the 1960s, and the arithmetic points to critical shortages being experienced now. Already Asian and Pacifican priests are staffing parishes in Australia and New Zealand, and this aid from sister churches has been a feature of church life since the Acts of the Apostles.

But renewing the priesthood is about more than filling vacancies.It is about admitting something important has gone wrong. In my view, what developed as the ministerial priesthood in the Western Church was a long way from what Christ wanted and what the Church needed. Christ wanted pastors after his own heart, weak enough to suffer like the Master and feel the sufferings of the people to whom they are sent. What we got was an all-too-human monarchical power-structure with the priest at the top with autocratic control over people and resources. Difficult for a good man, and disastrous for an ambitious one. In a word, clericalism has trumped the suffering servant.

Iris Barrow, an NZ psychologist and author of many books, once remarked, “most of the priests I know are on their pedestals quietly cracking up”. Obviously she would be in contact mostly with the strugglers. Other research done by Steve Rosetti in USA gives a different picture – most priests are happy with their lot. Of course, those answering his survey have survived the tsunami and are still in ministry.

The vocation has always required a certain degree of isolation, but the accompanying prestige is often small compensation, if it has survived at all. Young men who might choose such a life need to be humble and ready to suffer with their people. And ready to love their fellow priests as brothers in the Lord. The priesthood is indeed a taonga (treasure) but in earthen vessels.The Year of the Priest needs to encourage the men who carry this gift of God that it may be a joyful burden, and encourage young men to contemplate the journey.

- Brian O’Connell SM Editor of the Marist Messenger

Source: Marist Messenger

It is often said that the Society of Jesus is a ‘priestly order’, and rightly so. But that can mean any number of things. In an address to the Congregation of Provincials in Loyola in September 1990, the then Father General Kolvenbach used the term ‘presbyteral’. The use of words is never neutral and his choice of vocabulary is very telling.

In fact, the Catholic tradition gives us a double vocabulary for referring to priests. On the one hand that of hiereus, or sacerdos, derived from the Old Testament and taken up again in the Letter to the Hebrews, in which Christ is called the High Priest of the New Covenant which abolishes the old sacrifices. On the other there is that of presbuteros, presbyter, used along with other words in the New Testament to express the originality of ministry in the New Covenant. Thus it suggests the mission of the apostles, marking a distance from the ‘old priesthood’. In some modern languages, this double vocabulary has been reduced to a single one. It is commonplace in France, for instance, to talk of ‘le sacerdoce’.

This goes back to a medieval development which for quite practical reasons strongly bound priesthood to the celebration of foundation Masses, drawing attention to its ’sacrificial’ nature. This has left a strong imprint on the image of Catholic priesthood. The Council of Trent effectively set it in stone when it opposed the Lutheran understanding of the ‘priesthood of the faithful’ and the priority this gave to the ministry of the Word. This ’sacerdotal’ model of a priesthood tied to the sacrifice of the Mass is still rather dominant in the Catholic imagination, in spite of a new emphasis in Vatican II.

Vatican II brought back the true significance of what is really sacerdotal: in the New Covenant there is a single priest (archiiereus), Christ, and a single priesthood, which is that of Christ. In the Church, the bishop (episcopos) and the priests (presbuteroi) exercise the ministerial mission of the sole mediation of Christ-priest in the sense that it is a gift from God, whilst all the baptised participate existentially in the one priesthood of Christ (hierateuma), by the grace which makes them able to offer themselves to God as a spiritual sacrifice (cf. Lumen Gentium 10).

So why should we think of Jesuit priests as presbyteral rather than sacerdotal?

The Ignatian sources are surprisingly sober when it comes to the mention of priesthood. Ignatius quite untypically does not seem to have entered into a long decision-making process about being ordained. What are we to make of this comparative silence? Was it the case, as some have thought, that it wasn’t important, perhaps just a necessity with which he went along without too much fuss because it was useful? Or was it was so central to the Jesuit vocation that it was not up for discussion? It is not immediately obvious. I think the real reason is more subtle.

The answer is that in Ignatius’ life a totally original way of combining presbyteral ministry and the religious life is evolving. In the combination each term undergoes a change in meaning. That is why the question is skewed from the outset if we either think of Jesuits as religious first, implying a ‘pure’ concept of religious life which has nothing to do with this ministry; or if we take the ideal of priesthood (which is to say ’sacerdotal’ ministry) as the cornerstone of the Order. But Jesuits do not constitute a ’society of priests’. To get an idea of what this new priestly-religious life looks like and how it arises, we have to look back at Ignatius’ life.

After several years of joint research, Fr Michael Jones of Huntington, Connecticut, and I have spent this year of St Paul (June 2008 to June 2009) writing a book to be published in 2010 by Oxford University Press, Jesus Our Priest. The more time we invested in examining the Scriptures and two thousand years of Christian tradition, the more precious themes emerged and took shape for us. Let me share three of our insights into the priesthood of Christ.

First, the Last Supper, crucifixion, resurrection and exaltation into glory unquestionably formed the defining moments in Christ’s exercise of his priesthood. Yet the years of his public ministry should also be recognised as priestly. As the Letter to the Hebrews and many great voices in the tradition acknowledged, his priesthood began with the incarnation. He did not become a priest at some later stage, but from the start he already was and acted as a priest. In particular, his public ministry was no ‘mere’ prelude to the exercise of his priesthood. Proclaiming the kingdom, healing the sick, forgiving sinners, feeding the hungry and the other activities that filled the years of Jesus’ public life belonged to his priestly ministry as much as his institution of the Eucharist during the celebration of the Last Supper.

Hence St Paul could characterise as a form of priestly liturgy and sacrifice his work of evangelising the Gentiles. In spreading the good news, the Apostle knew himself to be acting as a sacred minister and offering worship to God. Paul ‘was a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles, in the priestly service of God’s gospel’ (Rom 15:15-16). When preaching, teaching and pursuing his whole pastoral ministry, Paul was as much a priestly minister as when he baptised some converts (1 Cor 1:16) and presided at the celebration of the Eucharist (Acts 20:7-12).

Second, in celebrating the Eucharist (and, indeed, in further areas of their ministry) ordained priests are visible signs of the invisible, but dynamically present, Christ. At every Eucharist, Christ is the Offerer, the One who invisibly but truly offers the sacramental celebration of his once-and-for-all sacrifice. He takes up into his self-offering the visible priest and the assembled faithful. In the Eucharistic meal he shares himself with all the faithful. The ordained priests act ‘in the person of Christ’ – not in the sense of replacing him or substituting for him but in the sense of acting as visible signs of his invisible and dynamic presence as the Offerer and the Offering. The visible priest presides at the Eucharistic ceremony, but it is Christ who perpetually offers his sacrifice. One might take some famous words of Augustine about baptism and apply them to the Eucharist by saying: ‘Peter presides, Christ offers. Paul presides, Christ offers.’

This truth prompted St Thomas Aquinas to say in a statement quoted by The Catechism of the Catholic Church (no. 1545): ‘only Christ is the true priest, the others being only his ministers’. We might gloss this statement and say: only the invisible Christ is the true priest; the others, while visible, are only his ministers.

Third, the priesthood of Christ involved him not only in being tried and tested but also in becoming vulnerable to lethal persecution. Extreme vulnerability belonged to the ‘job description’ of his priesthood provided by the Letter to the Hebrews. His passion and death dramatised the utter vulnerability of his priestly vocation. But his death led to his resurrection and exaltation to the Father’s right hand, where he continues eternally his priestly work of self-offering and intercession (Rom 8:34). As Paul put matters, Jesus was ‘crucified in his weakness but now lives by the power of God’ (2 Cor 13:4).

In an apostolic and priestly way, Paul himself shared in that ‘weakness’ and lived by that same ‘power’. Hence he declared: ‘I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities for the sake of Christ: for whenever I am weak, then I am strong’ (2 Cor 12:10).

Complete letter: Letter of His Holiness Pope Benedicat XVI Proclaiming a Year for Priests on the 150th Anniversary of the “Dies Natalis” of the Curé of Ars.