Forty three years ago tonight, I was preparing to celebrate my first Mass, and to preach as a priest for the first time. As I did so, I read something that Pope Saint John Paul II wrote:
“In order that his ministry may be humanly as credible and acceptable as possible, it is important that the priest should mold his human personality in such a way that it becomes a bridge and not an obstacle for others in their meeting with Jesus Christ the Redeemer of humanity.” (Pastores Dabo Vobis, no. 43)
And that’s what a priest tries to do: to be a bridge to Christ and not an obstacle.
He tries to get out of the way, that you might see not him, but Christ Jesus in him. And like any good bridge, he tries to transport people safely across the stormy waters of life, sin and death, emptiness and pain and everything else that makes us afraid, to the welcoming embrace of Christ.
So, I’m a seventy year old bridge, sometimes whisking you safely to God and at other times a little creaky with pot holes. But, as I say every year at this time, what God called me to more than four decades ago, is still perfect joy.
