(This homily was given by Fr. Raymond Suriani at the first Mass of Fr. Dean Perri. The Mass took place on June 23, 2002 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly R.I.)

"When it’s hard to be a priest, it’s easy to be a priest."

You might call it "the great irony of the faith." Pope Paul VI expressed it in these words: "When it is hard to be a Christian, it is easy to be a Christian. And when it is easy to be a Christian, it is hard to be a Christian."

To some of us, that may sound like a complete contradiction in terms, but it isn’t. For example, ask a devout Catholic in Poland, "Was it easier for you to live your faith 20 years ago or is it easier today?" and odds are he’d tell you, "In some respects, it was much easier twenty years ago. Sure, we had to deal with an atheistic government controlled by the Soviets, but that adversity drew us closer to the Church. It motivated us to take our faith seriously. Now we have our freedom, yes—and that’s wonderful; but sadly many of our citizens are misusing the gift. We’re becoming more materialistic; we want our pornography and so-called "sexual liberation"; we even want abortion. It wasn’t like that before. When it was hard to be a Catholic because of communist oppression, it was actually much easier to be truly Catholic."

I mention this today because this particular truth applies in a special way to the ordained priesthood. In the midst of the recent scandals—let’s face it—we can all be tempted to long for "the good old days," symbolized by Bing Crosby in The Bells of St. Mary’s, when a priest was loved and respected simply because he was a priest. But there’s a subtle danger in that type of friendly atmosphere, and some of our older priests know it well: it’s the danger of becoming complacent; it’s the danger of becoming a priest who says what people want him to say so they’ll give him a membership at the local country club, or the best seat at the local restaurant. Simply put, it’s the danger of becoming a worldly, mediocre priest, who, like Esau, sells his sacred heritage for a pot of stew—or some facsimile thereof.

You see, when it was easy to be a priest—in those "good old days"—in many respects it was much harder to be a priest after the heart of Jesus Christ.

Fr. Dean Perri has been ordained at a moment in history when it is certainly hard to be a priest. The world is not embracing us, and affirming us, and commending us for all the good we do in the name of Jesus Christ. Quite oppositely, the 99% of us who have been pure and upright in our relationships with young people are being held in suspicion because of the 1% who have not.

Believe me, a good priest can very easily identify with the words of Jeremiah the prophet in today’s first reading.

But no doubt Paul VI would say to us priests at this difficult time, "Rejoice and be glad, because when it’s so hard to be a priest, it’s easy to be a real priest; it’s easy to be a priest after the heart of Jesus Christ!"

That is to say, it’s easy if you’re dead serious about taking up your cross each day and living a life of holiness, obedience and self-sacrificial love in imitation of your Lord! (That footnote does need to be added!)

Concerning the high priesthood of Jesus, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews wrote this: "It was fitting that we should have such a high priest: holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners, higher than the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he has no need to offer sacrifice day after day, first for his own sins and then for those of the people; he did that once for all when he offered himself."

Old Testament priests offered sacrifices distinct from themselves; Jesus Christ, the Great High Priest, offered himself: "This is my body . . . this is my blood."

Fr. Perri, at your ordination yesterday you were empowered to act in persona Christi captitis (in the person of Christ the head) whenever you celebrate the Holy Eucharist and the other sacraments. That is an awesome gift, unique to the ordained priesthood. Treasure it always. But you are also called to live a life of personal holiness, obedience and self-sacrificial love in imitation of Jesus the Great High Priest, who offered himself totally for us in obedience to the heavenly Father. Please never forget that—as some clerics have in recent years. Make it a top priority in your life and in your ministry.

You see, my brothers and sisters, the present crisis in the Church is not a crisis of celibacy (as the secular media would have us believe); at its root it’s a crisis of holiness, self-sacrifice and obedience! Simply put, some priests have disobeyed the 6th commandment and embraced a sinful lifestyle. Period. And the existence of this crisis should not surprise any of us, given the atmosphere of dissent that’s permeated much of the Church in the years since the Second Vatican Council. I dare say that in many seminaries over the last 4 decades, young men have been taught that it’s much more important for them to be "relevant" than it is for them to be holy.

Well, the Church right now is suffering terribly because of dozens of "relevant" priests! They were taught by their professors in seminary to "get with the world"—and they did! They were fed the lie that Church teaching on matters of sexual morality was archaic and out-of-date—and, tragically, they believed their teachers.

When Fr. John Vianney—whose image adorns our sanctuary—was on his way to the town of Ars to take over as the pastor of the local parish, he got lost as he neared his destination; so he asked a young boy for directions. When the boy told him how to get to the town, Fr. Vianney responded by saying, "You have shown me the way to Ars; I shall show you the way to heaven."

And that’s just what he did: he showed his people the way to heaven by the manner of his own life, which was radically conformed to that of Christ. And he empowered them for the journey by his ministry of word and sacrament. He proclaimed the truth fearlessly (as Jesus told the very first priests to do in today’s gospel), and he administered the sacraments with faithfulness and compassion.

Our own St. Pius X once said, "A holy priest makes holy people." That sums up the ministry of St. John Vianney in one line.

So, Fr. Perri, be a holy priest, for heaven’s sake! That’s what the Church needs you to be, more than anything else! Center your life on the Eucharist; make a Holy Hour every day without exception, as Bishop Sheen would urge you to do; ponder the Scriptures daily; continue to study; go to Confession often, because you’re a sinner just like the rest of us; get the spiritual direction you need; and, finally, entrust your priesthood to Mary, our Blessed Mother and our model of holiness and discipleship.

Do those things, and your ministry will bear great fruit, here on earth, and, more importantly, in eternity!

Think of it this way, my brothers and sisters: As a chemical engineer, young Dean Perri helped to design the drugs that will give people a few more years of earthly life. That was good; that was very good. His was a noble and much-needed profession.

But now, as a priest of Jesus Christ, Father Dean Perri is called to be an instrument through which Almighty God will give his people eternal life. That is better—much better.

This is why he needs your prayers every day—not just this weekend! Pray for him that he will be a holy, obedient, faithful priest—an effective instrument in the Lord’s hands for the salvation of many souls.

And, while you’re at it, pray for the rest of us as well!

I will close this afternoon with the encouraging words of George Weigel, the man who recently authored what I would call the definitive biography of Pope John Paul II. The book is entitled Witness to Hope. In a recent column, Weigel wrote the following:

"In thinking recently of all the good priests I know, I have thought especially of younger priests, and particularly of the men with whom I became friends in Rome during the years I was preparing my biography of Pope John Paul II. They are some of the finest men I have ever met. We prayed, walked, toured, argued . . . laughed and mourned together.

These young priests are now doing wonderful work in parishes and diocesan offices and seminaries—often under difficult personal or pastoral circumstances, sometimes under suspicion because of their orthodoxy and fidelity to the Church’s liturgical rubrics. They have been happy in their priesthood, and now some of them frankly admit to being shaken.

To them, I would like to say: you are the generation of reform. You are the men who will revitalize the priesthood in the image of John Paul II, "priest of the world’s destiny" (as one book nicely styled him). You are the men who will restore trust where it has been broken, because you see your priesthood primarily in evangelical and sacramental terms. Because you don’t think of yourselves as ecclesiastical functionaries but as icons of Christ, and because you know that you are that by the grace of Christ and not by any merit of your own, you will be the generation that reforms the ecclesiastical apparatus so that scandals of the sort we have seen in recent months are far less likely. You are the men who will be the bishops who call other men to priestly holiness and who call the laity to be apostles in the world. I am quite confident of that, even as I know what pain and suffering it will cause you in the years ahead. Be not afraid."

And to that, I say, "Amen! May it be so!"

 

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