Easter 2021

Dear Father,

We are about to enter Holy Week, a special time for us each year. For a second year in a row, however, we are in lockdown. This strange time has been described by some as a wilderness experience and by others as a type of sabbatical, but for all of us it has undoubtedly meant increased isolation, changes, setbacks and a sense of weariness as it continues.

Traditionally during Holy Week, we attend the Chrism Mass and renew our priestly promises and I hope you will be able to participate virtually on Holy Thursday morning as I celebrate this year’s Chrism Mass in St. John’s Cathedral at 10 am.

It is a time for us to reflect on priesthood, our vocation and our mission. I would like to offer three points for consideration as we renew promises made on the day of ordination.

Without wanting to exaggerate, I believe we can say the Covid experience with its isolation, empty churches and lack of regular pastoral contact has provided us in concentrated form something like a laboratory experience of issues that are going to face us increasingly in the coming years. The Church has become marginalised in Irish society, has been hit by scandals and is needing to find its way in a more secularised and pluralist Ireland. There’s no denying we are going through a time of disruptive change and this can be experienced as something of a wind-swept wilderness. Priesthood in this context is not easy. Others ask us and we ask ourselves – how long will this wilderness experience last?

Ours is something of the experience of the people of Israel in exile crying out: ‘“Watchman, what is left of the night? Watchman, what is left of the night?” The watchman replies, “Morning is coming, but also the night. If you would ask, then ask; and come back yet again”.’ (Isiah 21: 11-12).

“How much is left of the night?”. The recent decision by the Bishops Conference to enter into a Synodal process is about facing up to and name the challenges facing us at this time, note the opportunities but, above all, strive to understand what God wants for his Church in Ireland in the future. As priests we find ourselves today as watchmen of the night. We know the night will not last forever. Faith tells us the dawn will come, but we are so painfully aware that we do know when or how that dawn will appear. We know “it is still night”. So we feel the pain of not being able to give easy answers to ourselves or to others about the future directions opening up for us. We are not astrologers magically reading the stars.

Our duty in this moment of history is to remain faithful in our place of night watch. And there we hope all things, bear all things, endure all things. That doesn’t mean that we should be passive. Just like the watchman the prophet Isaiah refers to, we too dialogue with passers-by, we speak to our fellow travellers of the night: “If you want to ask, then ask; and come back yet again.” We cannot give the answers we do not have but we do not chase away the questioners nor do we fail to engage now in whatever way we can. It is still night but the dawn will come and it is our task to prepare for that dawn. We remember the words of the Benedictus that we recite every morning and place our trust in “the loving kindness of the heart of our God who visits us from the dawn on high. He will give light to those in darkness and guide us into the way of peace”. 

A second point I want to offer for your consideration has to do with our own personal acceptance and integration into our lives of the messiness that we often encounter. At ordination, each of us will have dreamed dreams of how things might be for us. The best side of us aimed high. I’ve no doubt that, over the years of ministry, life certainly has brought you wonderful moments of grace and moments of witness to grace. We should always recall those moments and meditate on them. But many will also probably say, “I could never have envisaged on my ordination day the Church situation as it exists today”. Along with that, as the years go by, we recognise our own limits and with that we know there have been personal failures and sinfulness, ministerial setbacks and disappointments. As we renew our promises, it is so important to be able to integrate everything that has happened us in life and ministry within a belief that God always works for the good in our lives, that there is nothing that has happened us that cannot serve some purpose in God’s plan for our personal holiness and ministerial fruitfulness.

In this context, there is a line from Pope Francis’ letter, Patris Corde, reflecting on the figure of St. Joseph, that is well worth reading and meditating. After all, St. Joseph is also for us a model for the spiritual paternity inherent in priesthood: “Often in life, things happen whose meaning we do not understand. Our first reaction is frequently one of disappointment and rebellion. Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history. Unless we are reconciled with our own history, we will be unable to take a single step forward, for we will always remain hostage to our expectations and the disappointments that follow.” What matters is to live life and not be dragged down by it. This is important as we move ahead into a new future the Holy Spirit is opening up for us.

A third point for consideration is the importance of thanksgiving. I’ve always liked the hymn “Now thank we all our God”. The local parish choir of my home parish used to sing it regularly under the direction of a wonderful choir leader and acclaimed organist who was blind, Dan McNulty. Only recently have I learned that the hymn was written in the seventeenth century at a time of epidemic and the Thirty Years War that had devastated Europe. Pastor Martin Rinkart wrote it for his children as a table grace. It’s quite amazing to think as you hear the upbeat, warm, heartfelt declaration of thanks to God, that Rinkart had seen massive devastation around him and even his own wife had died of the pestilence. It reminds us that no matter what the circumstances we can and should give thanks.

I want to thank you for your ministry, for your continuing closeness to people spiritually, virtually and liturgically even in this wilderness time. Thanks also because I know that many have this or that health issue and concern. But you keep serving. Thank you. Thank you also for your personal support, encouragement and, of course, forbearance of me. Pardon any shortcoming on my part.

So with you, as we enter Holy Week, I lift up my heart and give thanks. Let’s remember one another in prayer and make our own the words of the hymn: “Now thank we all our God, with heart, and hands, and voices, who wondrous things hath done… who from our mother’s arms hath blessed us on our way, with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today. O may this bounteous God through all our life be near us! with ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us; and keep us in his grace and guide us when perplexed, and free us from all ills in this world and the next.”

With kind regards,

? Brendan Leahy

Bishop of Limerick