December 4, 2024 at 9:57 a.m.
Lord, I am not worthy
Some of our Catholic brethren may not be fully aware of the power of their priesthood or, better said, the power of the priesthood of Jesus Christ in them. I am not talking about the order of priesthood, or presbyterate, in the cultic or liturgical sense in which the priests of the Roman Catholic Church participate through the Sacrament of Holy Orders. Through ordination, priests are set apart for their unique role of presiding over the Holy Eucharist and the celebration of the Sacraments of Penance and the Anointing of the Sick among other services for the entire Church. Many religions designate some members of their communities as priests, for similar cultic roles. When we speak of the priesthood of Jesus Christ, however, we are not referring to those who, in Judaism, offer temple sacrifice since, historically, Jesus was not a member of this rank. His priesthood consisted in his sacrificial identity as the Lamb of God. He himself is the sacrifice, who freely offers his whole being up to the Father in one redeeming act of love. On Calvary, he is “lifted up” on the Cross and, because of who he is, delivers all humanity who affirm his Lordship, from the grip of sin. The Epistle to the Hebrews develops this profoundly and beautifully.
The power of this priestly act of delivering and sanctifying sinners is made effective through faith in Jesus Christ in the sacramental life of the Church, culminating in the Holy Eucharist, commonly called the Mass. Even before this decisive historical moment on Calvary, the very personal presence of the Word Incarnate would have a dramatic impact on the lives of those who encountered him. The story of the centurion who approached Jesus to seek healing for his beloved servant stands out in one of the earliest Gospel readings of the Advent season: Matthew 8:5-11 (First Monday of Advent).
You may recall a gripping depiction of that moment in the TV miniseries “Jesus of Nazareth” (Franco Zeffirelli, 1977) by the actor Ernest Borgnine (https://youtu.be/97a0fLC4S-0?feature=shared). It might bring tears to your eyes to read the Gospel passage (Mt 8:5-11). This is the narrative from which the words we say before Communion — “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof …” — are drawn. This may be the most dramatic illustration of the meaning of faith in the Real Presence in all of scripture. How so?
There can be little doubt that the Roman centurion, not a Jew, and certainly not a Catholic (there were no Christians yet), believed that rabbi Yeshua — the way he would address Jesus — could heal his servant. At the same time, his belief in Jesus was much more than an intellectual assent to his divinity, in some generic or theoretical sense. Nothing in the passage indicates that the faith of the centurion was the theological virtue of faith. The deep reverential respect is certainly manifested in the humble way that he approaches Jesus. At the same time, it is remarkably bold, as true faith must be. His confession — “Lord, I am not worthy” — also reveals more than a modicum of self-respect. He is humble, but not so shy as to think of himself as unworthy of asking a favor. Notice how he not only acknowledges the lordship of Jesus but also is able to identify with Jesus to some extent. He compares his trust in Jesus to his own authority, his own experience of entrustment of tasks to those through whom he carries out his own office. There is already a certain bond that somehow enables him to approach Jesus with confidence that he will act similarly, in a reliable and empathetic way.
So much here for us to contemplate. It is one thing to acknowledge Jesus as Lord and Savior of the human race. It is another thing to trust him as MY Lord and Savior, one who personally loves me and will do for me and my loved ones — his loved ones — all that is good, healing and merciful, IF I really believe he can.
Real faith is more than an intellectual profession of belief in the theory of Christ’s divinity. St. Paul states boldly that one must profess Jesus as Lord “with your mouth … and believe with your heart …” (Rm 10:8). It is important to remember that this very visible and visceral profession would have been risky and quite consequential in the context of the first century culture that he is writing in. Knowing one is a believing Christian would have subject a person to a disruption of normal familial and other social relationships, including economic repercussions in a secular world not much different from our own.
I doubt many conversions to faith in the lordship of Jesus Christ have been made by the mere quoting of scripture or moralizing excoriations of behaviors that ought to change. Personally witnessing how faith has changed, purified and strengthened the virtue of someone is far more convincing. I have heard it said that faith is more effectively caught than taught. Even if the centurion never became a Christian convert — and we do not know that for sure — the very fact that he publicly appealed to the healing mercy of Jesus forever stands as an example of how powerful a profession can be if it is clear it comes from the heart and is so much more than a lecture.
It is my conviction that the road toward the renewal of parish vitality is far more likely to emerge from the margins than the pulpit. Our goal as disciples who preach and teach the good news of the Gospel always includes the hope and desire that everyone will come to an awareness of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. To reach this goal, however, so that it motivates the believer to regular participation in this mystery of faith, something must happen in the heart and experience of the same belief if it is to survive the many distractions and turnoffs one can be subjected to in contemporary Catholic settings.
We often hear talk about a “nice Mass” or “a good priest,” to explain why some go to or avoid Mass in this place or that. Authentic faith is not a matter of finding the liturgy that most pleases or entertains us. It springs from a deep conviction that the power of Christ’s priesthood changes one’s life — and a willingness to proclaim that not only in word, but example. This is how the priesthood of a baptized disciple, however unworthy he or she may feel, can bring faith to life and motivate others to say, “Amen!”
@AlbanyDiocese
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