The Point of Priesthood

I am not going to go into very very deep theological and scriptural reasoning, but I find having to remind myself of some foundational and core ideas about what I am supposed to be and supposed to do:

I was ordained for the praise of Almighty God. That's first. 

It is ridiculous that I have to remind myself of this, but I DO have to remind myself of this. And it seems doing so is only possible now, that I find myself at some psychological distance from where I currently serve, knowing that I will be transferred out.

The "priest as social worker busy body" model is entirely toxic. It destroys vocations, it renders priests ineffective and sad. I found myself in a constant battle against it internally for the last year and it did a number on my priestly vocation and on me.

"But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." (Mt 6:33)

When I arrived to this parish and had to go along with "being the curate" again, I was asked -- not asked, really, but was told-- "You just visit". In fact any attempts to bring other expertise to the table were quickly stifled, eventually, alongside my desire to do so in the first place. It is hard to work with borderline narcissists who love to micromanage and have an inbuilt distrust. Collegiality would have me try to find excuses, but I can't. It feel strange to even mention that word -- collegiality -- in this paragraph as there was simply none of it at the outset.

What seemed clear was that we don't really share priorities. My semi-monastic "upbringing" in ministry and my own gravitating towards the Old Rite because I was keen to pray more, to live a life where the day is transfused with what humanity was created for, did not seem to tend in the same direction as my colleague's own path.

My own spiritual needs and priorities had to get simply buried so that I can crack on with the day-to-day expectations placed upon me: "just visit".

The fact is tho that I used to love visiting, it was an essential part of my ministry as an Anglican. I used to think, if I said Mass, said the Office, and saw at least one person, I had a successful day in the parish. Various meetings and functions and training events were all secondary to this.

I was very confused to discover how much of a burden visiting became for me, mentally. It was no longer a joy-filled, free-will offering to God, an extension of the worship that filled the day -- the "Liturgy after the Liturgy" as it was once put by an Orthodox author -- but rather something done out of compulsion, mixed with the fear of further humiliation. You cannot guilt-trip anyone into loving God and loving neighbour. And it compacted the depression I was already desperate to claw myself out of.

Partly as a symptom of my poor mental health over the last period, partly, I think, as a defence mechanism to stop reminding myself of the bitter predicament I found myself in, for months on end I lost the capacity to pray the Daily Office -- that is to observe the daily prescribed hours of prayer. Depression injures your self-motivating functions, and as the Office became so charged with extra, not particularly welcome associations, I simply couldn't do it.

Fortunately my Spiritual Director was quite aware of this, and treated it as a symptom, and what he required of me went hand-in-hand with my broader recovery and therapy. As my medication's dosage could be decreased, so my "dosage" of daily prayer could be increased -- very gently on both fronts.

It's still a work in progress, but I am incredibly happy to have had a number of days where I was ALMOST back on track entirely, almost managed to offer all the hours of prayer I should.

And one morning as I was going through the psalms at Lauds the wholesomeness of it really just hit me -- these Psalms, specifically chosen for their tone of "praise", are just wonderful, and unadultareted good. More simply, they are just incredibly good for you. The requirement, the "job", the "office" is that of praise, where the creature is restored to what the Creator first breathed life into it. As the Penny Catechism put it,

14. Why did God make us?

God made us to know, love, and serve Him, and to be happy with Him forever in Heaven.

And the point of the praise of Almighty God, whether that be through the Office or other acts of devotion, or through the Mass celebrated in the spirit of adoration is exactly this: to give a foretaste of Heaven.

Keeping this at the forefront of priestly ministry truly transforms it. When the "love Him" bit works, the "serve Him" will be a source of joy.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Mt 11:29-30)

Keeping prayer at the forefront will be the only way that priesthood can be a fulfilling one, and indeed, will be the only way it can be fulfilled.

This evening I sat in the Confessional, and because I was uncertain whether anyone would come -- they did in the end -- I took a breviary into the box, to say Compline (night prayer) as my day was drawing to a close. My prayer had to be "put on pause" to tend to the Penitents, and then I lost my place, and so I began again. It was rather striking to pray, after just having absolved some people,

Misereátur nostri omnípotens Deus,  |  May Almighty God have mercy on us, 
et dimíssis peccátis nostris, per-  |  forgive us our sins, and bring us to
dúcat nos ad vitam ætérnam. Amen.   |  everlasting life. Amen.
Indulgéntiam, ✠ absolutiónem et re- |  May the almighty and merciful Lord
missiónem peccatórum nostrórum      |  grant us ✠ pardon, asbolution, and
tríbuat nobis omnípotens et miséri- |  forgiveness of sins. 
cors Dóminus. Amen.                 |  Amen.

That these prayers are said on behalf of all others, that this is also an act of priestly intercession, became so much more poignant. And it fills all the priestly acts with intentionality: that people would find "pardon, absolution, and forgiveness of sins" becomes my own, intimate prayer. It makes my priesthood more priestly, it makes me more into what I was ordained to be.

It feels stupid to have to write all this. But it's a lesson learned the hard way -- I would say, not necessarily out of my own mistake, but perhaps more through suffering.