"Each year the parents of Jesus went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, "Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety." And he said to them, "Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced [in] wisdom and age and favor before God and man." -Luke 2:41-52
The other day I was driving in my car. As I stopped for a traffic light I noticed the car in front of me had a black bumper sticker on it which read, "Pastor." The driver was a woman. For a moment I was tempted to be jealous as I pondered all the implications and opportunities of being a pastor. To be a preacher in general. To be able to stand in front of a congregation (your sheep) and have their undivided attention while you preach the good news. I delighted in thinking about all the lives I could affect as I ministered to this imaginary flock. I was being tempted and I was fully aware of this fact. You see, I'm Catholic. We don't do that in our Church. Being a pastor means years and years of Seminary, and an Ordination Presided by a Bishop, making you a Priest. Then there's years of being an Associate Pastor before you are given your first parish to pastor. Did I mention the fact that only men can be ordained Priests? At first glance this seems unfair. But in the wisdom of Mother Church that's...that's just the way it is. I say "wisdom of the Church" because things like this have been thoroughly examined, prayed over, discerned, examined again and examined again. And no decision is made unless it has been thoroughly examined and ruled on. This normally takes quite a long time as it is common knowledge that nothing in the Church happens fast. It is this way for a reason. And I can and do accept that. I accept the fact that I as a woman cannot be a Priest, though "zeal for Your House consumes me." (Psalm 69:10) Much like Jesus was obedient to His Parents and "went down and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them" (Luke 2:51) I, too, must be obedient. Obedient to the Church, and obedient to God. Being obedient to the Church is being obedient to God, by the way. Jesus told Peter, "Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." (Matthew 18:18). Peter was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, which have been passed down through Apostolic Succession. Jesus...Peter...the Pope... keys to the Kingdom...power to loose and bind...that's good enough for me.
I went about that day thinking about the obedience of Jesus and how He proclaimed The Kingdom throughout His life, even though He could not do it in the temple until the appointed time. I can imagine that even before He was baptised by John the Baptist and tempted in the desert before He started His public ministry he proclaimed it to the neighbors...maybe in little ways. Maybe consoling someone who lost a loved one. Maybe by giving food to someone who was hungry. In countless ways. This would be something good to ponder on those days when I feel discouraged in my ministries.
Then I thought well where is my temple? Where can I proclaim The Kingdom? If I'm not able to preach to my flock in the pulpit where can I? And who is my flock? I suppose it is a park bench on a warm September day and my flock is two Baptist Ministers who spent an hour engaged in a beautiful conversation about God with me where I witnessed my love for Jesus and explained my Catholic Faith. I guess it is in the car of a young homosexual man who came to the Adoration Chapel one day while I was visiting. He was distraught about recent events in his life and was searching for some kind of truth and comfort. I witnessed to Jesus' love for him in my care and compassion for him. We cried, we hugged and we prayed. And maybe it's in a Church pew listening to the plight of a homeless woman who suffers from mental illness. I helped put her in contact with someone who could help her further. It could be a hug, a touch, a word, a look...anything. It could be showing hospitality, sharing your food, giving your time. It can be in a hospital, at the game, in the mountains, at the ocean, here, or abroad...at home.
These are our temples. These are our flocks. Go out there. Share yourself...share God through your love, your compassion, your mercy. Reach out. For them...for you...for Him.
Remember..."He went down with them and was obedient to them...And Jesus advanced [in] wisdom and age and favor before God and man." -Luke 2:51-52
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