A Functional Life

Yesterday I started reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. A friend

The Cathedral of Auckland

related to me the not-so-fun fact that Huxley died on the same day as C.S. Lewis and John F. Kennedy: November 22, 1963. The novel, which I’ve barely begun is dystopian, similar in feel to Orwell’s 1984. It’s the focus on function that I find terribly disturbing, perhaps because we’ve adopted a bit of this mentality ourselves.

In fact, being on sabbatical has challenged this aspect of priesthood in a good way...at least so far it’s good! It’s tempting to view priesthood as purely functional: as filling a role in the Church as Sacramental functionaries, doling out the Sacraments to the hungry faithful. I don’t doubt the need for that service, but surely it’s not sufficient to establish an identity as priest. If that were the case I suppose I would be less of a priest for administering fewer Sacraments during this time of sabbatical. 

It’s been an occasion for me to ask: so what is a priest at rest? What is a priest in the silence? What is a priest during free time? What is a priest not constantly on the move with a fully-filled calendar? The easy answer would be a priest. But after living in a culture where function defines dignity and where ability connotes value, it’s almost as though we say it with a cheeky wink and nod. And I believe this is the case because we as a culture have chosen to focus on our ability rather than on the choice of God. I am not a priest because I willed myself a priest; I am a priest because God chose me. And my dignity comes not from my ability to do priestly things, but it comes from the fact that God chose me. It is God’s work; the expression of my dignity comes as a response to that work.

The measure of dignity is not our capacity or our activity, but it is God’s election: It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you to go and bear fruit that will remain (Jn 15:16). There is nothing for me to prove (I think this is the hardest bit of truth to grasp) because it was not for my goodness that I was chosen, but it was by God’s choice according to the measure of His mercy.

In the end, we belong to God. That is our dignity and our destiny. It is the starting point for every act of charity and every human effort. We belong to Him. There’s rest to be found in that fact.