If you, like me, were at the ordination of the newly collared Father Raffaele Salvino, then you know it was a day of joy. I had never been to an ordination before, and I’m not sure that Father Raffaele even knows me, but the joy he shared in videos online leading up to his big day made me want to be a part of it.
Scott, the kids, and I all packed into the van and made our way downtown to the cathedral. Our seats weren’t great, but I didn’t mind. It was so good to see so many people together, in one place, celebrating the Mass, and the gift of a new priest, together. The pillar in my way didn’t mean a thing.
Our view afforded us something good: a visual into the sacristy, where a few priests were coming and going. The kids were having fun pointing out the ones they knew, whispering, “There’s Father!” to each other. But before the Mass started, a certain little one declared a need for the washroom.
The washrooms are outside, around the corner from the cathedral, so it meant I had to leave the nave seconds before Mass to run to the toilets. I was disappointed at the idea of missing the procession of all the priests, the archbishop, and the deacon of the day.
As we exited the building, though, we were met with a lineup of vested men that went down the length of the cathedral and around the corner. I was hit with a wave of happiness as this sight met us. Call me a victim of clericalism if you like, but there’s just something about the fulfillment of masculinity and the hands of Christ that gives me joy.
We waited for quite a long time after Mass to receive a blessing from Father Raffaele, but there was no way we were missing out on the blessing of a new priest because of the inconvenience of time. Father’s joy was a gift to us, along with the blessing, and I thank him for giving himself to God, to us, and to the Church.
Can you imagine saying yes to the priesthood today? Not only are you scorned by the outside world, but you are not necessarily trusted or respected from within.
I know good, selfless, prayerful, generous priests who have been accused of legalism, or clericalism, or whatever else, simply because of the traditional vestments they wear. Like they don’t have enough legit troubles without having to please the fashion mob.
The secular world accuses our priests of pretty much every crime possible, but I suppose they did the same to Christ, so maybe it’s a good sign for some of them.
What man in his right mind would willingly give up a life of anonymity and freedom to become a priest, accused and condemned by the world, and possibly criticized by his own flock?
I have to believe that, for the most part, only a man who genuinely wants to give himself fully to Christ, to fully imitate Christ, and to bring Christ to others could give that kind of a yes. While I know there are exceptions – I’ve met them – only someone truly inspired could face what they know will be a hard ride. And that is a good sign.
In my life, I have met such an assortment of priests. I have been disappointed by a few but uplifted by many.
I think of the priest of my childhood, so kind and loving to little ones; the priest who married Scott and me and gave me a start in writing; those who baptized our six children, gave them the precious Body and Blood of Christ, and confirmed them; those who have given us absolution, direction, encouragement, friendship, promises of prayer, anointings, and even book and movie suggestions!
I remember awaking in a haze of confusion to see the back of a priest I’ve never met after he gave me the sacrament of the anointing of the sick in a delivery room.
I remember the priests who have blessed our homes, our pets, my beehives, those who have taken my sons into their care, training them to serve at the altar and praying for them by name.
More than one son has talked about the possibility of becoming a priest and being happy about it because of the witness of those in their lives.
I cannot think of one thing of authentic value in my life that did not come along somehow with the hands of a priest.
Who have I ever been more honest with than a priest?
Who, other than God himself and my dear mother, has given me more than a priest has? It’s a shocking realization.
You can call me a victim of clericalism if you like. I prefer to think I am a Catholic realist. I also think it’s time to give thanks to God for an ordination of another young man and to recognize a glimpse of the face of Jesus in anyone who gives everything for our salvation.
