In the order of Melchizedek
One of the greatest Catholic writers of the 20th Century, Francois Mauriac, wrote a famous book in 1931 called Holy Thursday: An Intimate Remembrance, with personal reflections on the mysteries of this day. Part of that is devoted to the ministerial priesthood, instituted by Jesus Christ at the Last Supper.
“The twelve apostles are the first twelve priests; Judas is the first bad priest”, writes Mauriac. From the beginning, he notes, the perfection of the ministry hasn’t relied on perfect ministers. The mission itself is perfectly sufficient.
The grace of Holy Thursday will be transmitted unto the end of time, unto the last of the priests who will celebrate the last Mass in a shattered universe.
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Holy Thursday created these men; a mark was stamped on them; a sign was given to them. They are like us and yet so different — a fact never more surprising than in this pagan age. People say there is a scarcity of priests. In truth, what an adorable mystery it is that there still are any priests.
Mauriac continues to wonder that men would choose to follow the call. “They no longer have any human advantage”, he points out, and it is remarkable to realize that he did not write this anytime in the past several years.
Celibacy, solitude, hatred very often, derision and, above all, the indifference of a world in which there seems to be no longer room for them — such is the portion they have chosen. They have no apparent power; their task sometimes seems to be centered about material things, identifying them, in the eyes of the masses, with the staffs of town halls and of funeral parlors. A pagan atmosphere prevails all around them. The people would laugh at their virtue if they believed in it, but they do not. They are spied upon. A thousand voices accuse those who fall. As for the others, the greater number, no one is surprised to see them toiling without any sort of recognition, without appreciable salary, bending over the bodies of the dying or ambling about the parish schoolyards. Who can describe the solitude of the priest in the country, in the midst of peasants so often indifferent, if not hostile, to the spirit of Christ?
Through the priest in reconciliation, the penitent receives “three inestimable treasures,” says Mauriac:
the certainty of being forgiven; peace received in the very depths of the heart; and a blank page on which the most infamous man, having become again like a little child, can begin writing his life anew. Such is the immense stream of grace which has its source in the first priestly ordination of this sacred Thursday.