An imperfect model of perfection

With the choir in place, and with people gathered from all corners of the diocese, the parade of some 70+ priests snaked its way into the church.

Once all had taken their places, the pleasantries were exchanged and human beings then began the formal act of prayer that we have come to call the Mass. It is fitting that in thanksgiving for the life and service of those who are the intermediaries of grace, we should all gather to praise the author of all grace.

Present among us was the Cardinal Archbishop of Boston, who himself is well known to the blogging world, one who knows only too well the human side of the priesthood, having dealt with the crisis of suspected abuse by clergy in that Archdiocese for the last 6 years.

As the presider at this special liturgy, it also fell to him to share words of wisdom and reflection inspired by the chosen gospel passage. With humour, and a sensitivity for which he has become well known, His Eminence chose to reflect on the gift of priesthood in terms of three moments in the life of Saint Peter, the first among equals, chosen by Christ himself to lead the fledgling Church.

Truth be known, Peter was not perhaps the sharpest knife in the drawer. He was not the best of fishermen, and yet he was given a place of honour which has endured to this day precisely because when the chips were down, he was the one who answered for all the rest who dared not break the silence. Whether or not he had the right words, he ventured an opinion, and dared to be vulnerable enough to stick his neck out when others wouldn't.

Peter tried to duck the responsibility too. From a distance, he chose to watch as Jesus was condemned, showing us that we cannot be disciples from a distance. If we want to follow the Master, we must be willing to jump right into the fray, to admit our human weakness but not to let it stop us from serving with joy and with great love.

Examples like Peter are comforting to those of us who now strive to walk in the footsteps of Jesus. He himself doesn't require us to be perfect in our execution of the office to which he calls us, but he does require us to be generous, to serve with humility, to allow ourselves to be caught up in the truth that we're not the superstars, we're only the servants who plant seeds and who water them. In the meanwhile, we strive to be more like Christ himself, not the executives and the esteemed of society, but the workers, the servants, the ones who are not afraid to get our hands dirty, to stand beside the sorrowing, to walk with the weak, to become familiar with the pain of rejection so that we ourselves can be ministers of mercy.

None of us can do this work perfectly, but all of us must strive to do this work with great love. We do what we can ... and leave the rest to God.