bekindtothem

The training (or "formation" as it was usually called) of our ordination class was coming to an end. We had survived (and generally benefited from) ten, sometimes arduous, years of study, apostolic work, prayer, discipline and penance. Finally we were about to be released on the unsuspecting members of the Mystical Body. At that time in the Spiritan Congregation, particularly in Ireland, it was customary to undertake the final year of study after ordination. This was an unusual arrangement but there was a rationale behind it that needn't detain us here.

During the final year the focus was on some segments of moral theology and the all important preparation for hearing confessions (the Sacrament of Reconciliation), an intense study of the many and varied ways on which the faithful could shatter the Ten Commandments, together with instructions on suitable advice, and suggestions for penances that might be imposed. One topic that was high on the agenda was "De Sexto" which had to do with the birds and the bees and the manifold ways in which their human counterparts could misbehave. For this topic the young priests were taken away from the larger community to a small classroom whose doors were firmly closed. Here, with the aid of charts and graphs, we were initiated into the mysteries of erotic love and its aberrations. When all had been mastered there remained a final hurdle - the "Faculties" exam which, when passed, enabled the young priests to receive authorization to administer the Sacrament of Reconciliation to the People of God.

I had finished the course, passed the exam, been granted "faculties" and was now about to head out into one of the parishes of the Archdiocese of Dublin. Panic gripped me. Despite ten years of training I was terrified that insoluble problems would be dropped on my lap or that I would make a horrendous mess of the whole process. I needed a word of advice, in a hurry. Our Director at that time was a man who had spent many years in the African mission field. He also held a doctorate in Canon Law so I surmised that both his experience and education would amply equip him to share a few words of wisdom with a jittery neophyte confessor. I went to his office, knocked timidly on the door and entered on invitation. Father Mike was seated in a swivel chair with his feet resting on his desk. This was not the usual deportment of superiors at that time but Father Mike had brought a breath of informality to the position. I explained, a little nervously, my problem and asked what advice he would give to young priest about to enter the confessional for the first time. Father Mike's eyes were heavy indicating that I had disturbed a catnap. He looked at me sleepily for a long minute and then said, "be kind to them". I continued to stand there expecting some elaboration, or, at the very least some reference to canonical and theological norms. But Father Mike's eyes were drooping and it was clear that I was about to lose him. I coughed and asked hesitatingly, "is that all?" With obvious effort he blinked away the glaze that had begun to resettle on his eyes and said, "yes, that's all. Be kind to them and you won't go far wrong." It was one of the best bits of pastoral advice I have ever received.

More than forty years have now passed since this incident but the advice is as relevant as ever. Kindness, compassion, love should be the hallmarks of each one called to participate in the priesthood of Christ. Knowledge of scripture, a smattering of canon law, creative insights to liturgy, solid theology, all are necessary but, as St. Paul put it elegantly, without love we are " sounding brass and tinkling cymbals." In fact we are worse for we may be stumbling blocks to the faithful, shepherds wandering aimlessly in the mist.

It is always painful to hear stories of priests (and bishops too!) who are (or are perceived to be) harsh, unsympathetic, unkind, unavailable or unwilling to meet people where they are, to repair the bruised reed or gently fan the barely perceptible spark. By all means let us have our Jubilees, special missions, "Landings" or whatever will help to touch the lapsed, but the fruits of these efforts will be limited if the hesitant homecomer senses that he or she is not unconditionally accepted.

Jubilee 2000 gave rise to many wonderful things - pilgrimages, the opening of doors, Youth Days, missions, appeals for justice and so on. There were apologies for the mistakes and contrition for the sins of the past and God surely saw that it all was good. But something was missing -- a hand outstretched to those suffering within our own Catholic family; "improperly" married couples, priests who have resigned, homosexuals and women. How much a gesture of kindness, a word of compassion would have meant to these and others carrying heavy burdens. But they waited in vain. What would Jesus have done. He might have said: "be kind to them and you won't go far wrong."