Pope Francis presided over the opening of the 69th General Assembly of the Italian Bishops’ Conference – the CEI – on Monday afternoon, in the Synod Hall in the Vatican. The main item on the agenda of the 69th CEI General Assembly is the renewal of the clergy through ongoing formation.
The CEI is meeting at the Vatican from 16-19 May 2016.
Dear brothers,
I am particularly happy to open this assembly with you and to see the theme you have chosen as the uniting thread that runs through all your work – The Renewal of the Clergy – in your desire to support formation throughout the different stages of life.
Pentecost, which we just celebrated, puts your focus in the right light. In fact, the Holy Spirit remains the protagonist of the history of the Church: it is the Spirit that abides in fullness in the person of Jesus and introduces us to the mystery of the living God; it is the Spirit that animated the generous response of the Virgin Mary and of the Saints; it is the Spirit that works in believers and in men of peace, and arouses the generous availability and evangelizing joy of so many priests. We know that, without the Holy Spirit, there is no possibility of a good life, or of reform. Let us pray and commit ourselves to caring for His strength, so that the world of our time is able to receive the Good News … from ministers of the Gospel whose life radiates fervour (Paul VI, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80).
I do not wish to offer you a systematic reflection on the figure of the priest this evening. Rather, let us try to reverse the prospect and to put ourselves toward an attitude of listening. Let us come close, almost on tiptoes, to one of the many parish priests that give of themselves in our communities; let us have the face of one of them pass before the eyes of our heart and let us simply ask ourselves: What makes life worth living? For whom and for what does he commit his service? What is the ultimate reason for his self-giving?
I hope that these questions can rest within you in silence, in tranquil prayer, in a frank and fraternal dialogue: the answers that will blossom will help you to single out the formative proposals on which to focus with courage.
What, therefore, gives flavour to the life of our presbyter? The cultural context is very different from that which moved his first steps in the ministry. In Italy also, so many traditions, habits and visions of life have been affected by a profound change of time.
We, who often find ourselves deploring this time with a bitter and accusatory tone, must also perceive the difficulties: how many people do we meet in our ministry who are anxious because of the lack of available resources. How many wounded relationships there are! In a world in which each one thinks himself the measure of everything, there is no longer room for a brother.
In this context, the life of our presbyter becomes eloquent, because it is different, an alternative. Like Moses, he is one who has come close to the fire and allowed the flames to burn away his ambitions for a career and for power. He has also burnt the temptation to understand himself as a devotee, who takes refuge in religious introspection that has very little to do with the spiritual.
Our priest is barefooted in respect to a land that persists in believing and considering itself holy. He is not scandalized by the frailties that shake the human spirit, aware that he himself is a cured paralytic; he is removed from the coldness of rigourism, as well as from the superficiality of one who wants to show himself as accommodating a good market. Instead, he accepts and takes charge of the other, feeling himself to be a participant and responsible for his destiny.
With the oil of hope and consolation, he makes himself a neighbour to everyone, careful to share with them abandonment and suffering. Having accepted not to dispose of himself, he does not have an agenda to defend, but every morning gives his time to the Lord, to allow himself to meet and encounter people. So our priest is not a bureaucrat or an anonymous functionary belonging to an institution; he is not consecrated to a white-collar role, or moved by criteria of efficiency.
He knows that Love is everything. He does not seek earthly assurances or honorific titles, which lead to trust in man; in the ministry itself he does not ask anything that goes against a real need, nor is he concerned to bind to himself the persons entrusted to him. His simple and essential lifestyle, always available, makes him credible to the eyes of the people and brings him close to the humble, in pastoral charity that makes him free and able to live in solidarity with others. A servant of life, he walks with the heart and the step of the poor; he is rendered rich by their presence. He is a man of peace and reconciliation, a sign and instrument of God’s tenderness, careful to spread goodness with the same passion with which others look after their own interests.
Our presbyter’s secret – you know it well! – lies in that burning bush that marks existence with fire, it conquers and conforms our existence to that of Jesus Christ, the definitive truth of his life. He guards his relationship with Him, rendering foreign the spiritual worldliness that corrupts, as well as any compromise or meanness. It is friendship with his Lord that leads him to embrace daily realities with the confidence of one who believes that what is impossible for man is not so for God.
So it also becomes more immediate to address the other questions with which we began. To whom does our presbyter commit his service? Perhaps the question should be specified. In fact, before asking ourselves about the recipients of his service, we must acknowledge that the presbyter is such in the measure in which he feels himself a participant of the Church, of a concrete community whose path he shares. The faithful people of God from whom he was drawn, the family in which he is involved, the home to which he is sent. This common belonging, which flows from Baptism, is the breath that frees him from the self-reference that isolates and imprisons: When your boat begins to put roots in the immobility of the pier – recalled Dom Helder Camara – go into the deep!: Leave! And, first of all, not because you have a mission to fulfill, but because structurally you are a missionary: in the encounter with Jesus you experienced the fullness of life and, therefore, you desired with your whole being that others recognize themselves in Him and are able to protect his friendship, nourish themselves from His word and celebrate Him in the community.
Thus, one who lives for the Gospel enters a virtuous sharing: the Pastor is converted and confirmed by the simple faith of the holy people of God, with which he works and in whose heart he lives. This belonging is the salt of the presbyter’s life; he is such that his distinctive trait is communion, lived with the laity in relationships that are able to appreciate the participation of each one. In this time that is poor in social friendship, our first task is to build community; the attitude toward relationships is, therefore, a decisive criterion of vocational discernment.
In the same way, it is vital for a priest to find himself again in the Cenacle of the Presbytery. This experience — when not lived in an occasional manner — free of narcissisms and clerical jealousies, makes esteem, mutual support and benevolence grow; it fosters not only a sacramental or juridical but a fraternal and concrete communion. In the presbyters walking together, different in age and sensitivity, a perfume of prophecy spreads that astonishes and fascinates. Communion is truly one of the names of Mercy.
In our reflection on the renewal of the clergy there is also the chapter regarding the management of the structures and economic goods: in an evangelical view, avoid falling into a pastoral plan of conservation, which hinders openness to the enduring novelty of the Spirit. Maintain only what can serve the experience of faith and charity of the people of God.
Finally, we are asked what is the ultimate reason for our presbyter’s dedication. How much sadness is experienced by those who in life are always somewhat in the middle, with their foot raised - ready to take the first step! They calculate, weigh, do not risk anything out of fear of getting lost … They are the most unhappy! Instead, our presbyter, with his limitations, is one who plays to the end: in concrete conditions in which life and ministry have placed him, he offers himself gratuitously, with humility and joy, even when no one seems to notice him, even when he senses that, humanly, perhaps no one will thank him enough for his unbounded dedication.
However — he knows — he could not do differently: he loves the earth, which he recognizes is visited every morning by God’s presence. He is a man of Easter, of the gaze turned toward the Kingdom, towards the one who feels that human history is walking, despite the delays, the obscurities and the contradictions. The Kingdom – the vision that Jesus has of man is his joy, the horizon that enables him to relativize the rest, to dissolve worries and anxieties, to remain free of illusions and pessimism; to protect peace in his heart and spread it with his gestures, his words, his attitudes.
See here delineated, dear Brothers, the triple belonging that constitutes us: belonging to the Lord, to the Church, to the Kingdom. This treasure in earthen vessels is protected and promoted! Be thoroughly aware of this responsibility; take good care of time with patience and the willingness of hands and heart. With you, I pray to the Holy Virgin so that her intercession will keep you hospitable and faithful. Together with your presbyters may you be able to bring the course to the end, the service that has been entrusted to you and with which you participate in the mystery of Mother Church.
The CEI is meeting at the Vatican from 16-19 May 2016.
Address of His Holiness, Pope Francis
to the Catholic Episcopal Conference (CEI)
during their 69th General Assembly
Dear brothers,
I am particularly happy to open this assembly with you and to see the theme you have chosen as the uniting thread that runs through all your work – The Renewal of the Clergy – in your desire to support formation throughout the different stages of life.
Pentecost, which we just celebrated, puts your focus in the right light. In fact, the Holy Spirit remains the protagonist of the history of the Church: it is the Spirit that abides in fullness in the person of Jesus and introduces us to the mystery of the living God; it is the Spirit that animated the generous response of the Virgin Mary and of the Saints; it is the Spirit that works in believers and in men of peace, and arouses the generous availability and evangelizing joy of so many priests. We know that, without the Holy Spirit, there is no possibility of a good life, or of reform. Let us pray and commit ourselves to caring for His strength, so that the world of our time is able to receive the Good News … from ministers of the Gospel whose life radiates fervour (Paul VI, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80).
I do not wish to offer you a systematic reflection on the figure of the priest this evening. Rather, let us try to reverse the prospect and to put ourselves toward an attitude of listening. Let us come close, almost on tiptoes, to one of the many parish priests that give of themselves in our communities; let us have the face of one of them pass before the eyes of our heart and let us simply ask ourselves: What makes life worth living? For whom and for what does he commit his service? What is the ultimate reason for his self-giving?
I hope that these questions can rest within you in silence, in tranquil prayer, in a frank and fraternal dialogue: the answers that will blossom will help you to single out the formative proposals on which to focus with courage.
What, therefore, gives flavour to the life of our presbyter? The cultural context is very different from that which moved his first steps in the ministry. In Italy also, so many traditions, habits and visions of life have been affected by a profound change of time.
We, who often find ourselves deploring this time with a bitter and accusatory tone, must also perceive the difficulties: how many people do we meet in our ministry who are anxious because of the lack of available resources. How many wounded relationships there are! In a world in which each one thinks himself the measure of everything, there is no longer room for a brother.
In this context, the life of our presbyter becomes eloquent, because it is different, an alternative. Like Moses, he is one who has come close to the fire and allowed the flames to burn away his ambitions for a career and for power. He has also burnt the temptation to understand himself as a devotee, who takes refuge in religious introspection that has very little to do with the spiritual.
Our priest is barefooted in respect to a land that persists in believing and considering itself holy. He is not scandalized by the frailties that shake the human spirit, aware that he himself is a cured paralytic; he is removed from the coldness of rigourism, as well as from the superficiality of one who wants to show himself as accommodating a good market. Instead, he accepts and takes charge of the other, feeling himself to be a participant and responsible for his destiny.
With the oil of hope and consolation, he makes himself a neighbour to everyone, careful to share with them abandonment and suffering. Having accepted not to dispose of himself, he does not have an agenda to defend, but every morning gives his time to the Lord, to allow himself to meet and encounter people. So our priest is not a bureaucrat or an anonymous functionary belonging to an institution; he is not consecrated to a white-collar role, or moved by criteria of efficiency.
He knows that Love is everything. He does not seek earthly assurances or honorific titles, which lead to trust in man; in the ministry itself he does not ask anything that goes against a real need, nor is he concerned to bind to himself the persons entrusted to him. His simple and essential lifestyle, always available, makes him credible to the eyes of the people and brings him close to the humble, in pastoral charity that makes him free and able to live in solidarity with others. A servant of life, he walks with the heart and the step of the poor; he is rendered rich by their presence. He is a man of peace and reconciliation, a sign and instrument of God’s tenderness, careful to spread goodness with the same passion with which others look after their own interests.
Our presbyter’s secret – you know it well! – lies in that burning bush that marks existence with fire, it conquers and conforms our existence to that of Jesus Christ, the definitive truth of his life. He guards his relationship with Him, rendering foreign the spiritual worldliness that corrupts, as well as any compromise or meanness. It is friendship with his Lord that leads him to embrace daily realities with the confidence of one who believes that what is impossible for man is not so for God.
So it also becomes more immediate to address the other questions with which we began. To whom does our presbyter commit his service? Perhaps the question should be specified. In fact, before asking ourselves about the recipients of his service, we must acknowledge that the presbyter is such in the measure in which he feels himself a participant of the Church, of a concrete community whose path he shares. The faithful people of God from whom he was drawn, the family in which he is involved, the home to which he is sent. This common belonging, which flows from Baptism, is the breath that frees him from the self-reference that isolates and imprisons: When your boat begins to put roots in the immobility of the pier – recalled Dom Helder Camara – go into the deep!: Leave! And, first of all, not because you have a mission to fulfill, but because structurally you are a missionary: in the encounter with Jesus you experienced the fullness of life and, therefore, you desired with your whole being that others recognize themselves in Him and are able to protect his friendship, nourish themselves from His word and celebrate Him in the community.
Thus, one who lives for the Gospel enters a virtuous sharing: the Pastor is converted and confirmed by the simple faith of the holy people of God, with which he works and in whose heart he lives. This belonging is the salt of the presbyter’s life; he is such that his distinctive trait is communion, lived with the laity in relationships that are able to appreciate the participation of each one. In this time that is poor in social friendship, our first task is to build community; the attitude toward relationships is, therefore, a decisive criterion of vocational discernment.
In the same way, it is vital for a priest to find himself again in the Cenacle of the Presbytery. This experience — when not lived in an occasional manner — free of narcissisms and clerical jealousies, makes esteem, mutual support and benevolence grow; it fosters not only a sacramental or juridical but a fraternal and concrete communion. In the presbyters walking together, different in age and sensitivity, a perfume of prophecy spreads that astonishes and fascinates. Communion is truly one of the names of Mercy.
In our reflection on the renewal of the clergy there is also the chapter regarding the management of the structures and economic goods: in an evangelical view, avoid falling into a pastoral plan of conservation, which hinders openness to the enduring novelty of the Spirit. Maintain only what can serve the experience of faith and charity of the people of God.
Finally, we are asked what is the ultimate reason for our presbyter’s dedication. How much sadness is experienced by those who in life are always somewhat in the middle, with their foot raised - ready to take the first step! They calculate, weigh, do not risk anything out of fear of getting lost … They are the most unhappy! Instead, our presbyter, with his limitations, is one who plays to the end: in concrete conditions in which life and ministry have placed him, he offers himself gratuitously, with humility and joy, even when no one seems to notice him, even when he senses that, humanly, perhaps no one will thank him enough for his unbounded dedication.
However — he knows — he could not do differently: he loves the earth, which he recognizes is visited every morning by God’s presence. He is a man of Easter, of the gaze turned toward the Kingdom, towards the one who feels that human history is walking, despite the delays, the obscurities and the contradictions. The Kingdom – the vision that Jesus has of man is his joy, the horizon that enables him to relativize the rest, to dissolve worries and anxieties, to remain free of illusions and pessimism; to protect peace in his heart and spread it with his gestures, his words, his attitudes.
See here delineated, dear Brothers, the triple belonging that constitutes us: belonging to the Lord, to the Church, to the Kingdom. This treasure in earthen vessels is protected and promoted! Be thoroughly aware of this responsibility; take good care of time with patience and the willingness of hands and heart. With you, I pray to the Holy Virgin so that her intercession will keep you hospitable and faithful. Together with your presbyters may you be able to bring the course to the end, the service that has been entrusted to you and with which you participate in the mystery of Mother Church.
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