June 18, 2014 By Fr. Scott Belina “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” These are the most humbling words spoken. They are so humbling because I say these same exact words when I go to confess my sins and ask for God’s pardon and peace. They are so very humbling, and they are at the heart of the mystery that is the Priesthood. A year ago, on May 25, 2013, I lay prostrate on the sanctuary floor of St. Mary’s Cathedral. My presence there that morning was a public response to a personal call that had unfolded in my life for many years, and which I had discerned was God calling me to give him my life as a priest. Moments later, in the presence of family and many friends, Bishop LaValley imposed hands on me, and then with hands outstretched over me, prayed the prayer of Ordination—the same ritual through which every priest is linked, through their Bishop, to the Apostles. That is where it began for me, and so I must begin there as I reflect on my first year as a priest: complete, total and undeserved gift—a gift for which I am eternally grateful. This first year of priesthood has given me a joy beyond imagining—a joy that cannot be manufactured, only discovered and gratefully received. I encounter this joy each day as I serve the People of God, and especially as I celebrate the Sacraments with and for them. This privilege is something I treasure, as through it I am able to see the awesomeness and immensity of God’s provident love for his people. It is also encountered in the sacred duty of preaching. I can only hope that the words I speak become an opportunity for God’s people to meet him personally. Finally, I am truly blessed with so many visits to people in the hospital, in the nursing homes, and even in their own homes. Echoing some words of Saint John Paul II, each visit, in a mysterious way, is an encounter with God himself. Make no mistake, as a priest I am challenged daily. When ordained a priest, a man does not suddenly relinquish his humanity or become “perfect” in a single moment—I know this all too well! Each day, I am challenged to invite Jesus more deeply into my own life that I might undergo conversion of mind and heart and so live the Gospel I preach. I am called to give God even my weakness and insufficiency, because it is precisely in my weakness that his power is made perfect (2 Cor. 12:9). I must remain awake and attentive so as not to grow accustomed or lukewarm to the treasures of our Faith. I have learned several lessons over the past year—lessons that surely I will learn again and again. First, God loves me beyond my deepest imagining. This is true for everyone, and it cannot be overstated. It is something that each of us needs to know in our bones and in the depths of our heart: we are known and loved by God! Second, God is—and always will be—a God of surprises. As I do his work, I should fully expect to be surprised. Third, I am not in control, and never will be: “Without me, you can do nothing” (Jn. 15:5). Fourth, as Blessed Mother Theresa of Calcutta often said, "God desires fidelity, not success." I want to be a saint, and go to heaven. When I stand before God, he will not ask me whether or not I was good at anything, but he will know whether or not I was faithful. Fifth, the priesthood is a gift, and not a right or anything which I have earned or taken for myself. I am reminded of this daily. A perfect example of this is the celebration of the Sacraments. Without the power of Christ at work, the words that I speak are wind. Yet, when I am gathered with his people to pray, Christ is present and he is at work. Lastly—and this is a gross understatement—I have a whole lot more to learn! This is just the beginning! This is why the words, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned” are so humbling. It is because the priesthood is pure gift. A priest said to me once when I was first considering entering the seminary, “God does not call the qualified. Rather, he qualifies those who are called.” Perfect examples of this fact are the Apostles, those first men on whom Jesus bestowed the Priesthood. They were weak, and some of them quite thick-headed. They constantly misunderstood Jesus. The Lord has shown me much mercy and love, and has made me and every other priest an instrument of this same mercy and love. This mystery lies at the heart of the Priesthood: knowing and experiencing God’s mercy and love in his own life, in the midst of his own weaknesses and sinfulness, the priest can then love others in their weaknesses and sinfulness with the very love of God the Father. After a year, I must thank God for his utter generosity in my life. He has chosen me out of love and given me this vocation. I cannot imagine being happy doing anything else. For that, I cannot thank God enough. What I can do, however, with his grace, is to make my life a continual offering, a daily ‘sacrifice of praise’ for his glory.
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