A Sign Of The Times?
Our initial motivation to ask for a blessing was of course to receive a blessing. However, the secondary effect was to encourage this man in his vocation. We have no idea what sort of priest he was, and it seems not unlikely that he was in some sort of vocational crisis. Yet his delight at being asked to exercise one of his simplest priestly powers was unmistakable. We wondered aloud how many struggling priests could be renewed by the simple act of being treated like a priest. We also wondered how many more blessings might have been asked of him had he worn his habit.
The garments worn by priests and religious are a sign of the dignity bestowed on them by their calling. This sign not only tells us how to treat those wearing a habit, it also reminds us of our own dignity as children of God. This is especially important in the case of priests who, by virtue of the Sacrament of Ordination, have powers that are crucial to the salvation of souls.
Their clerical garb serves to remind us of our need for healing, our need for grace, indeed, our need for God. This reminder can be a life saver for a fallen away Catholic or troubled person who needs to seek forgiveness.
The religious habit can also be a sign of strength and courage. Our last night in Rome we stumbled upon a huge rosary procession on a normally busy street. The procession was filled with young families and older people as well. But, most strikingly, it was led by eight Dominican priests dressed in their white habits, some even with their bold black capes. These men stood as signs, in very uncertain times, of the manly courage of St. Dominic who also faced a turbulent and dangerous world.
The sight of any religious habit gives the lay person hope that God is at work in the world in a very tangible way. One day in Rome, Jim spotted three young men in long gray habits walking down a busy street as we walked up. He knew the habit to be that of the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity (S.O.L.T.), an order in which we both have friends. Sure enough, the three men were S.O.L.T. brothers that Jim had met three years earlier while discerning his own vocation. They stopped to chat with us for a few minutes and we discussed everything from basketball to the theology they were studying. As they went their way and we went ours, Jim and I talked about how great it was to see these guys wearing their habits and enjoying their formation so much. Then Jim mused, “If every 12 or 13 year-old Catholic boy came to Rome on pilgrimage and saw all these men, young and old, wearing habits and seeking God right there in the middle of the world, maybe we wouldn’t have a vocation crisis ten years from now!”
The witness of a life lived in self-sacrificing service to God is very powerful, yet this sort of life is often hidden from the world. The clerical garb and religious habits worn by priests, bishops, and men and women religious, are a clear sign that this humble life of service is alive and well in our own communities. And the sign has nothing to do with the individual’s virtues or lack of virtue. The habit simply tells the world, “Here is another one willing to give his life in the service of God.” The habit also calls to the discerning, “You could wear this habit too!” Finally, the religious habit can silently reach out to those who suffer in their souls from untold sins or unanswered questions, or who long for the grace of a simple blessing or even for the Sacraments.
One Day In Rome
Sometimes you even see a man in a long cassock, with the red band around the waist and red skullcap that marks a cardinal. At first it is a little thrilling –”Look, some priests are coming into the restaurant!” Eventually it becomes almost common place…almost.
One day in Rome my husband Jim and I sat on a bench along the wide street that runs straight from the Tiber River to St. Peter’s Square. As we sat we began to notice small groups of older men dressed in black cassocks. Most had the bright burgundy band around the waist and the burgundy skullcap of a bishop. Neither of us had ever seen more than one bishop at a time up close, and we had never encountered any bishop just walking down the street. We weren’t quite sure how to act. It didn’t seem appropriate to stop them all and ask to kiss their ring, nor did it seem possible to stand each time a bishop passed us. It was practically a parade of bishops, mixed with occasional cardinals in their bright red. There were just so many coming, a few one minute then a lone bishop five minutes later. This went on for at least a half-hour.
Of course, we knew why so many bishops and cardinals were in Rome. A synod (or official gathering) of bishops from all over the world had just ended with a papal Mass that morning. We were present at the Mass and saw all of the Bishops process in to St. Peter’s Basilica with their regal vestments and with miters on their heads. The sight of over a hundred miters lined up in rows in front of the high altar was really quite breathtaking.
But, even this didn’t prepare us for the unusual sight of small herds of bishops and cardinals, monsignors and priests strolling down the Roman sidewalks. What would people think if they saw cassocked bishops strolling down main street in downtown Ann Arbor, stopping at Grazi’s for dinner, or popping into Mongolian BBQ? Would most stop and stare? Would they wonder whether the men were in costume? Maybe it would cause at least a few to recall that they hadn’t been to Mass for a while, or that they should try going to confession again. Some bold person would certainly stop one bishop and ask what the occasion could be that would bring so many of them to Ann Arbor.
It certainly caused us to wonder how we should act in the presence of the Princes of the Church, our own modern day Apostles. Just sitting there, trying to make contact and say hello with a respectful smile didn’t seem enough. Not that we knew anything about any of these bishops. None looked familiar even though several were surely American. In fact, for all we know that particular one could be a cad, or that one have a bad temper. Maybe the one coming towards us now was disliked by the Catholics in his own diocese. We didn’t know any of this. We only knew what their habit told us — that they were bishops, men who had received the fullness of the Sacrament of Holy Orders. This sacrament made them successors to the Apostles. These were the men that St. Ignatius of Antioch referred to as “image of [God] the Father” (CCC 1554, 1557). And we had no idea how to treat them in these circumstances. It was an uncomfortable time for both of us, as our heads and our hearts told us they deserved, just by virtue of their office, some respect, but our culture and experience had not provided us with the appropriate response.
The experience left us with another impression though, far from the uncomfortable one that hit us in the moment. The importance of the habit that marked these men as bishops and cardinals was undeniable. The sight of their clerical garb put us in mind of the wonders of the Church and of the truths that we hold dear: that the Catholic Church is linked to the apostles through the laying on of hands, that the ordained man stands in the person of Christ and brings us grace in a way that no other person can.
Even though the common practice in Rome is for all ordained men and even seminarians to wear clerical garb, there are many priests that are there to visit, or to continue their education. And they do not always wear their habits. We ran into two such priests in a pizzeria one night. We heard them speaking English and naturally struck up a conversation. In the course of the conversation they told us they were priests studying at a local pontifical university, and one mentioned a renewal of their vocation. We told them where we had come from and what we were doing in Rome. Then we both went back to our dinners. Later, as they were getting ready to leave, one priest came over to ask us some more about our trip and to say goodbye. Before he could leave, Jim asked him to give us a blessing. The look on his face was a mixture of shock and delight. He said he would be happy to bless us and proceeded to place his hands on our heads and pray over us, ending with a priestly sign of the cross. He then thanked us for asking for his blessing, mumbling briefly that hardly anyone ever asks him to give a blessing.
Peer Pressure at its Best
The lay person plays a crucial role in the encouragement of priests and men and women religious to wear their habits. We can thank them when they do, and we can treat them with a special dignity even if they don't wear their habit. Sometimes a simple smile and a “Good morning, Sister” is the best we can do. But any acknowledgement of their vocation is an encouragement. Whenever I have traveled with the Sisters of Mary in their beautiful Dominican habits I have seen their effect on complete strangers. Whether we are at a college football game, the mall, or a rest stop in rural Pennsylvania, people stop them and share their memories of Catholic school and often offer to buy them a snack or help them in some way. The sight of the sisters brings out generosity in people and their response never fails to delight the sisters.
In the case of priests, we can ask them to use their God-given powers to bless us, to hear our confession, and especially to say Mass. I recently heard a story about St. Francis that brought home this point to me. As you may know, St. Francis of Assisi was ordained a permanent deacon, but not a priest. As his reputation grew he was asked to do many things in the service of the Church. One time, a layman came from a neighboring town to ask the help of Deacon Francis with an errant priest. It seemed that this priest had slipped into sinful, and decidedly un-priestly behaviors, and the town thought St. Francis could straighten him out. Francis agreed to talk to the priest and set out immediately. He arrived at the rectory door and knocked. When the priest opened the door, Francis dropped to his knees, grabbed the man's hands, and said, “Let me kiss the hands that bring me Jesus.” From that point forward the man changed and became the holy priest that God intended him to be.
May we learn to follow St. Francis' example and always recognize the dignity and power bestowed on a priest by the Sacrament of Ordination, which exists regardless of the man's personal holiness or virtue. Perhaps our notice and subtle encouragement of the priests and religious within our small corner of the world will strengthen them to become more visible signs to the world of God's very tangible role in daily life.
Finally, if ever you find yourself watching an impromptu parade of bishops and cardinals, may you think first of the Apostles and the many holy princes of the Church and not of the many scandals, now and throughout history. May the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch ring clearly in your mind: “Let everyone revere … the bishop as image of [God] the Father” (CCC 1554). Perhaps then you will figure out the appropriate way to acknowledge their presence in that sort of situation.
If you do, please let the rest of us know what you did!
(Carol Kennedy is a Catholic writer with an MA in Theology and Catechesis from Franciscan University of Steubenville. She is the former DRE for the Spiritus Sanctus Academies in Ann Arbor, MI. Carol writes from Northern California where she lives with her husband and infant daughter. You can read more of her writings at www.carolcomments.com)
