One of the highlights of the Chrism mass is the renewal of vows for priests. Few years back, Chrism mass has been a bit controversial in our diocese because there are some priests who don't attend this very important mass. The people learned that these priests have disagreement with the bishops. For those active in the church, they observed who are absent during Chrism mass.
Without judging the intentions of these priests, I am reminded of how important the role of priests in the church.
Taking advantage of the occasion, Pope Francis delivered a strong message for all priests.
Below is the homily of Pope Francis during the Chrism Mass.
This is taken from (http://www.news.va/en/news/pope-homily-for-chrism-mass-full-text)
(Vatican Radio) Below please find the official
text of Pope Francis’ Homily for Chrism Mass, Holy Thursday 2013:
Dear Brothers and Sisters, This morning I have
the joy of celebrating my first Chrism Mass as the Bishop of Rome. I greet all
of you with affection, especially you, dear priests, who, like myself, today
recall the day of your ordination.
The readings of our Mass speak of God’s
“anointed ones”: the suffering Servant of Isaiah, King David and Jesus our
Lord. All three have this in common: the anointing that they receive is meant
in turn to anoint God’s faithful people, whose servants they are; they are anointed
for the poor, for prisoners, for the oppressed… A fine image of this “being
for” others can be found in the Psalm: “It is like the precious oil upon the
head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down upon the
collar of his robe” (Ps 133:2). The image of spreading oil, flowing down from
the beard of Aaron upon the collar of his sacred robe, is an image of the
priestly anointing which, through Christ, the Anointed One, reaches the ends of
the earth, represented by the robe.
The sacred robes of the High Priest are rich in
symbolism. One such symbol is that the names of the children of Israel were
engraved on the onyx stones mounted on the shoulder-pieces of the ephod, the
ancestor of our present-day chasuble: six on the stone of the right
shoulder-piece and six on that of the left (cf. Ex 28:6-14). The names of the
twelve tribes of Israel were also engraved on the breastplate (cf. Es 28:21).
This means that the priest celebrates by carrying on his shoulders the people
entrusted to his care and bearing their names written in his heart. When we put
on our simple chasuble, it might well make us feel, upon our shoulders and in
our hearts, the burdens and the faces of our faithful people, our saints and
martyrs of whom there are many in these times…
From the beauty of all these liturgical things,
which is not so much about trappings and fine fabrics than about the glory of
our God resplendent in his people, alive and strengthened, we turn to a
consideration of activity, action. The precious oil which anoints the head of
Aaron does more than simply lend fragrance to his person; it overflows down to
“the edges”. The Lord will say this clearly: his anointing is meant for the
poor, prisoners and the sick, for those who are sorrowing and alone. The
ointment is not intended just to make us fragrant, much less to be kept in a
jar, for then it would become rancid … and the heart bitter.
A good priest can be recognized by the way his
people are anointed. This is a clear test. When our people are anointed with
the oil of gladness, it is obvious: for example, when they leave Mass looking
as if they have heard good news. Our people like to hear the Gospel preached
with “unction”, they like it when the Gospel we preach touches their daily
lives, when it runs down like the oil of Aaron to the edges of reality, when it
brings light to moments of extreme darkness, to the “outskirts” where people of
faith are most exposed to the onslaught of those who want to tear down their
faith. People thank us because they feel that we have prayed over the realities
of their everyday lives, their troubles, their joys, their burdens and their
hopes. And when they feel that the fragrance of the Anointed One, of Christ,
has come to them through us, they feel encouraged to entrust to us everything
they want to bring before the Lord: “Pray for me, Father, because I have this
problem”, “Bless me”, “Pray for me” – these words are the sign that the
anointing has flowed down to the edges of the robe, for it has turned into
prayer. The prayers of the people of God. When we have this relationship with
God and with his people, and grace passes through us, then we are priests,
mediators between God and men.
What I want to emphasize is that we need
constantly to stir up God’s grace and perceive in every request, even those
requests that are inconvenient and at times purely material or downright banal
– but only apparently so – the desire of our people to be anointed with
fragrant oil, since they know that we have it. To perceive and to sense, even
as the Lord sensed the hope-filled anguish of the woman suffering from
hemorrhages when she touched the hem of his garment. At that moment, Jesus,
surrounded by people on every side, embodies all the beauty of Aaron vested in
priestly raiment, with the oil running down upon his robes. It is a hidden
beauty, one which shines forth only for those faith-filled eyes of the woman
troubled with an issue of blood. But not even the disciples – future priests –
see or understand: on the “existential outskirts”, they see only what is on the
surface: the crowd pressing in on Jesus from all sides (cf. Lk 8:42). The Lord,
on the other hand, feels the power of the divine anointing which runs down to
the edge of his cloak.
We need to “go out”, then, in order to experience
our own anointing, its power and its redemptive efficacy: to the “outskirts”
where there is suffering, bloodshed, blindness that longs for sight, and
prisoners in thrall to many evil masters. It is not in soul-searching or
constant introspection that we encounter the Lord: self-help courses can be
useful in life, but to live by going from one course to another, from one
method to another, leads us to become pelagians and to minimize the power of
grace, which comes alive and flourishes to the extent that we, in faith, go out
and give ourselves and the Gospel to others, giving what little ointment we
have to those who have nothing, nothing at all.
A priest who seldom goes out of himself, who
anoints little – I won’t say “not at all” because, thank God, our people take
our oil from us anyway – misses out on the best of our people, on what can stir
the depths of his priestly heart. Those who do not go out of themselves,
instead of being mediators, gradually become intermediaries, managers. We know
the difference: the intermediary, the manager, “has already received his
reward”, and since he doesn’t put his own skin and his own heart on the line,
he never hears a warm, heartfelt word of thanks. This is precisely the reason
why some priests grow dissatisfied, become sad priests, lose heart and become
in some sense collectors of antiques or novelties – instead of being shepherds
living with “the smell of the sheep”, shepherds in the midst of their flock,
fishers of men.
True enough, the so-called crisis of priestly
identity threatens us all and adds to the broader cultural crisis; but if we
can resist its onslaught, we will be able to put out in the name of the Lord
and cast our nets. It is not a bad thing that reality itself forces us to “put
out into the deep”, where what we are by grace is clearly seen as pure grace,
out into the deep of the contemporary world, where the only thing that counts
is “unction” – not function – and the nets which overflow with fish are those
cast solely in the name of the One in whom we have put our trust: Jesus.
Dear lay faithful, be close to your priests with
affection and with your prayers, that they may always be shepherds according to
God’s heart.
Dear priests, may God the Father renew in us
the Spirit of holiness with whom we have been anointed. May he renew his Spirit
in our hearts, that this anointing may spread to everyone, even to those
“outskirts” where our faithful people most look for it and most appreciate it.
May our people sense that we are the Lord’s disciples; may they feel that their
names are written upon our priestly vestments and that we seek no other
identity; and may they receive through our words and deeds the oil of gladness
which Jesus, the Anointed One, came to bring us. Amen.