Changing the Job Interview

 

 

April 22, 2007, Third Sunday of Easter

Acts 5:27-32, 40-41    Rev 5:11-14     Jn 21:1-19

To the church in the diaspora[1]

& to the church of the unchurched[2]

 

Introduction

Back to fishing

After Jesus’ death and burial which seemed to put a dismal end to everything, Simon Peter said to the other disciples, “I am going fishing” (Jn 21:3). He wasn’t saying, “I’m going to take a day off.” He was saying, “I’m going back to my old job of fishing.” The late Elizabeth Kübler Ross, who frequently claimed she wasn't a religious person, reminded her audiences that we deal correctly with the death of a loved one only when we painfully decide to go back to our jobs.

 

Poor fishing after the resurrection (John 21: 1-19)

One night not long after the disciples went back to their old job, they fished all night long on Lake Tiberias[3]  and didn’t catch a thing. Suddenly the risen Lord (whom they didn’t recognize) called out to them from shore and asked whether they had caught anything to eat. They answered, “Not a thing!” Then he ordered them saying, “Cast your nets over the right side of the boat” (Jn 21:6). They were fishing on the wrong side of the boat. They obeyed and caught such a full net of fish that they couldn’t pull it into the boat. They had to drag it to shore where the risen Lord was stoking up a charcoal fire to fry the fish.  They opened their bursting net and gathered up 153 big fish.  (St. Jerome tells us that ancient zoologists calculated the number of species of fishes in the sea to be 153. The number, therefore, is symbolic for a mighty catch.) In that miraculous catch the disciples recognize their risen Lord.

 

Poor fishing before the resurrection (Lk 5:1-10)

The New Testament records another miraculous catch of fish. This one occurred during Jesus’ earthly lifetime. One day when he was in Peter’s boat on Lake Gennesaret, Jesus commanded him to launch off into the deep and let his nets down for a catch.  Though Peter complained that he had worked hard all night long but hadn’t caught a thing, he obeyed Jesus anyway. He launched off into the deep, dropped his nets and caught “such a huge number of fish that their nets were about to break.”  The miraculous catch made Peter fall to his knees and exclaim, “Depart  from me, Oh Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  Despite that avowal of sinfulness (and perhaps precisely because of it) Jesus says to Peter, “Don’t be afraid; from now on I will make you a fisher of men” (Lk 5:1-10). “Fisher of men” is imagery used in the New Testament for one whose mission is to haul in people for Christ. Both times—during Jesus’ earthly lifetime and after his resurrection—obedience to the Lord solved the apostles’ poor fishing problem.

Poor fishing today

The fishing was poor at times for the apostles. It is particularly poor for us today. We, the church, have a shortage crisis on our hands. It’s not a shortage of fish; mysteriously our nets are hauling in the faithful in good numbers despite our painful scandal. It’s a shortage of fishers of men--a shortage of priests whose mission is to haul in people for Christ.

 

In a small volume entitled, Why I Am still A Christian, Swiss German theologian Fr. Hans Küng writes,

 

I cannot believe that he, who said “I have compassion on the crowds,” would have increasingly deprived congregations of their pastors and allowed a system of pastoral care built up over a period of thousand years to collapse.

 

A system of pastoral care which provided priests and shepherds for God’s people is collapsing before our very eyes. Because of that priest shortage, here in Milwaukee three parishes (St. Rita, St. Hedwig, and Holy Rosary) had to join together to form a cluster parish with a funny name like Church of the Three Holy Women. With the addition Old St. Mary’s it’s a cluster now of four holy women!

 

The gospel today speaks to us, the church, in our poor fishing plight. As we go fishing for fishers of men (for priests) we’re fishing “on the wrong side” of the boat.  Jesus commands us to fish “on the right side” of the boat. On the right side of the boat swim schools of good fish waiting to be harvested for ordained ministry.  If we obey the Lord, we will make a great catch of 153 fishers of men.

 

The question

These are good days for us Catholics who are without priests and parishes and patron saints like Sts. Rita, Hedwig and Mary of the Holy Rosary. The poor fishing--the acute priest-shortage--is a blessing. The more acute the crisis becomes the greater is the blessing. An oriental wisdom sees a crisis as a great moment of opportunity. The crisis before inspires us to ask a bare-boned and pared-down question about the priesthood. It’s a question we would never have thought of asking had we no crisis. The question is this:  When we, the priestly community, go fishing for a priestly head, what, we ask, should we be fishing for? Upon what should we, the priestly community, be expending our time and energy as we go fishing for our priestly head?

 

At heart, it’s a question of what is a priest. I have had fifty-five years to ponder that question, and over the years I have hammered out an answer for myself.  That answer is a light year away from the one I had on the eve of my ordination to a pre-Vatican II church and a pre-Vatican II priesthood. (That’s called growth.) My answer now isn’t a one-line, clear-cut, wooden answer. Such answers never do justice to spiritual and mystic realities.

 

Good at mystery

As a starter, a priest is one who is good at mystery. He cherishes the mystery of God. His God lives “in light inaccessible” (I Tim 6:16). He doesn’t have God down pat, and he doesn’t have all the answers. So a priest is one who often has nothing to say; he is good at silence. Again an oriental wisdom says, “Who speaks has not seen the mystery of God, and who has seen the mystery of God does not speak.” Good at mystery, the priest raises up bread and wine at Mass and effectively proclaims to the Sunday assembly there’s more in the bread and wine than meets the eye.

 

Good at poetry

A priest is also one who is good at poetry. He’s good at using words in such a way that they say more than what they say. At Mass a priest flows with the seasons. He gives thanks for Spring which “warms our mother the earth and calls forth the bloom from the tomb of winter.” He gives thanks for the sun which “lengthens the summer day, and tans our mother the earth with rolling field of hay. “  He gives thanks for the fall harvest of apples and pumpkins--“God’s bounty gathered into bins against the long winter night. “In winter he gives thanks to the Father for the Son born for us “so that we might wildly know that mercy blankets all the land more surely than the snow.”

 

Years ago as a young priest, I read a line from the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner. He said, "The perfect priest is perfect poet." I liked that. At that time I didn't know what it meant; now after many years I know what it means. 

 

Good at ecstasy

A priest is one who is good at revelation. In Latin revelare means to draw back a veil or curtain and offer a glimpse at the other side--a glimpse of glory. With the glimpse of glory comes ecstasy. When the priestly community goes fishing for a priestly head, it should go fishing for someone who’s good at ecstasy—good at lifting up the Sunday assembly to the heights of Mt. Tabor and having it cry out, like Peter, James, and John at the Transfiguration, “Oh, how good it is for us to be here! Let’s dig in and stay up here forever”(Mt 17:4).

 

Good at tragedy

A priest is one who is good at the tragic dimension which is stitched inescapably into the fabric of all our lives. In the face of natural disasters or human tragedies, like the massacre at Virginia Tech, a priest is good not with glib words to explain away the mystery of evil or to console the grief-stricken; he is good simply at standing wordlessly beside those who weep until they can painfully decide to go back to their jobs.

Good at loving

Finally, a priest is one who is especially good at being a loving human being. After the appearance of the risen Lord on the shore of the Sea of Tiberius where they breakfasted on fish and bread, Jesus holds a job interview with Peter. He is looking for someone to be pastor over the universal church. It is a strange job interview.  Unlike most others this one asks only one question, and asks it three times! “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”  Simon Peter answers,  “Yes, Lord! You know that I love you.” Only when Jesus is sure that the person before him is a loving human being does he give Peter the job: “Go, feed my lambs and feed my sheep” (Jn 21:15-17). 

 

As you enter that marvelous miracle in marble which is  St. Peter’s Basilica, and as you look up into its lofty heights, you can see there that job-interview and  the conferral of the job written with gold mosaic letters  six feet  tall both in Latin and in Greek. “Simon Ioannis, amas me?” (“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”)  “Pasce oves meas.” (“Feed my sheep.”) The lettering is so outstanding that you seem to hear the voices of Jesus and Peter in it.

 

Changing our job-interview

We solve the acute shortage of fishers of men in the church today by changing our job-interview. Our job interview for ordained ministry asks (three times for sure), “Are you a celibate?”  Jesus didn’t ask Peter, “Are you a celibate?” He wasn’t celibate. The gospels say that he had a mother-in-law, and that one day Jesus cured her of a fever (Mt 8: 14-15).

 

Our job interview asks (three times for sure), “Are you a male?” Jesus didn’t ask Peter, “Are you a male?” Indeed, he was a male--a rough and tough fisherman. But that has nothing to do with ministry. Women, in fact, are better at ministering than men.

 

Our job interview is even tempted to ask, ”Are you a saint?” Jesus didn’t ask Peter, “Are you a  saint?” He was, in fact, a  sinner who  denied his Lord three times (Lk 22:54-62). Even before he denied the Lord, Peter knew he wasn’t a saint. When Jesus ordered him and his men (who were  fishing all night and hadn’t caught a thing) to launch off into the deep and drop their nets, they obeyed and made a wonderful catch of fish that filled two boats until they almost sank. That miraculous catch sent Peter to his knees protesting, “Depart from me, oh Lord, for I am a sinful man.” That avowal of sinfulness pleases Jesus, and he promises to make Peter a fisher of men (Lk 5:1-10).

 

We, the church, must launch off into the deep and change our job interview for ministry. We should not expend our time and energy looking for a celibate or a male or even a saint. We should spend our time and energy fishing for someone who is good at mystery, ecstasy, tragedy, and especially good at loving.

 

Conclusion

We all win

Of such fish there is no shortage. If there is a shortage, it’s man-made like the energy shortage at the pump these days.  The problem is that those fish are swimming on the right side of our boat, and we’re fishing on the wrong side. In our crisis, Jesus is ordering us to cast our nets on the right side. If we obey like Peter and his partners, we’ll make a grand haul of 153 fishers of men.  That’s more than enough to serve the needs of the people of God.

 

If we obey, we all win. Healthy young men who want to minister, and who also want to marry will win. Women, too, who have a knack for ministering will win. Those three or four holy women who had to join a cluster will also win: they’ll each get back their own individual church each with its own priest and each with its own patron saint. Pope Benedict XVI, who celebrated his eightieth birthday last Monday (April 16), and I, who celebrated my eighty-second birthday last March will win: we both will be able to retire before we are ninety, and that could help solve the problem of gerontocracy in the church today.

 

Prayers of the Faithful

April 22, 2007

 

Introduction

The Virginia Tech Massacre took place last Monday, April 16, 2007, on the campus of the Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in Blacksburg, Virginia, in two separate attacks approximately two hours apart. A gunman killed 32 people and injured 29 before committing suicide, making it the deadliest mass shooting in modern U. S. history. The gunman, Cho Deung-hui, a horribly benighted and lonely human being crying for help (into whose business no one chose to step) was born in South Korea. At the age of eight he immigrated with his family to the  U.S. and grew up in Northern Virginia.

 

As the nation and world grieve with the Virginia Tech University community and especially with the families whose loved ones were massacred, there would be something terribly missing in a Sunday assembly which made no mention of that monumental tragedy and offered no prayers for it. On this very extraordinary weekend we pray these Prayers of the Faithful:

In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

1.

That we, oh Lord, might know when it is time to mind our own business, and when it is time not to mind our own business. That we might know when it is time to take note that someone is hurting and crying for help. We are, indeed, our brother’s keeper.  In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

2.

That we, oh Lord, might know how to console those who grieve. We don’t do it with words. There are no words, and so we don’t have to say anything. Help us, Lord, to simply walk wordlessly beside the people we want to console.  In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

3.

That we, oh Lord, in this monumental moment of national grief, might not be laid low by  ominous images of Cho Deung-hui splashed over TV screens, brandishing the weapons that killed 32 students and wounded 29. Rather, may we be lifted up by the candlelight services and eloquent speeches about wonderful human beings delivered by other wonderful human beings. In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

4.

That the entire TV world-community might not overlook  an extremely wounded victim--the family of Cho Deung-hui. It’s grief, too, is inconsolable. That this moment might not call forth thoughtless ethnic reprisal but only deep compassion for a family who cannot recognize one of its own in a son and brother. In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

5.

That the Virginia Tech University community and all the grieving families might, by your help, oh Lord, give grieving its due and then by your help, oh Lord, might painfully decide to go back to their jobs. In peace, let us pray to the Lord….  Lord have mercy!

 



[1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!

[2] By  “the unchurched” is especially meant  not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!

 

[3] Called also Lake Gennesaret  or the Sea of Galilee.