The Georgia Bulletin

Wed, Jul 9, 2008


What I Have Seen and Heard - Archbishop Gregory's Weekly Column

Print Issue: September 20, 1973

Role Call

By Fr. Jerry Hardy

(Editor’s Note: Father Jerry Hardy, chancellor of the Archdiocese of Atlanta and president of the National Conference of Diocesan Vocation Directors, spoke at the annual Serra international convention in Washington, D.C. Father Hardy’s address will appear in “Role Call” for the next few weeks.)

Here is my servant, whom I uphold,

My chosen one in whom my soul delights.

I have filled him with my spirit

That he may bring trust justice to the nations.

He does not cry out or shout aloud,

Or make his voice heard in the streets.

He does not break the crushed reed,

Nor quench the wavering flame.

Faithfully he brings true justice:

He will neither waver, nor be crushed

Until true justice is established on earth,

For the islands are awaiting his law.

I, Yahweh, have called you to serve the cause of right:

I have taken you by the hand, and formed you:

I have appointed you as covenant of the people and light of the nation.

To open the eyes of the blind,

to free captives from prison,

and those who live in darkness from the dungeon.

That text from Isaiah is used as a prophetic hymn that was sung out as a solo by Jesus Christ in the sharps and faults and rough-hewn harmonies of his life. The same text is often used in describing the role of the priest, especially the prophetic mission to which he is called, as one in whose presence things happen and change for the better, things like those described in the reading.

As Serrans, you are committed to seeing the number of men who could fulfill the mission increase and you work toward this end.

What I’d like to suggest to you is that in the midst of all the time and effort you invest in furthering and fostering vocations to the priesthood and religious life, you should not exclude yourself as those called to the mission Isaiah described for us just now. Priests and religious are not the only ones called to that mission. You are as well. The priesthood of the laity is a theological reflection of our day that is rooted in more than metaphor. And it is critically important within the context of the so-called vocation crisis precisely because it may very well be that it is your vocation which is in crisis and not mine.

I say this for this reason: The satisfying of the ministerial needs of the church must be sought as much in the shopping centers of our society as in the clerical churchyard of faith and structure.

And while that statement should hold no new revelation for any of you, I think it suggests the need to spell out clearly what your priestly religious vocation is because you are the ministers to the marketplace.

It is for you to confront the contemporary consciousness with some clear statements about the values by which we are living. In short, I think it is incumbent upon you, both by reason of the baptism with which you were gifted as a child and by reason of the Serran pledge you freely chose to make as an adult, to assume a more dynamic posture as communicators of values.

The truth is that the so-called vocation crisis may not be a numerical one at all. It isn’t a question of body counts. It is a question of who will shape society by the evangelical values of Jesus.

And in today’s church you as laymen are as apt for that work as anyone, given the strength of your own commitment and proper preparation. Certainly we will continue to need ordained priests but it would seem to me that the degree to which a society is animated by the gospel would sharply reflect the vitality and viability of the faith community in which those priests rise to serve. Priests are taken from among men.

Personally, I learned more about being priest from my father than anyone else and that wasn’t because he was a priest. It was because he was simply a good man whose life spoke to me in flesh and blood of values others could tell me about only with words.

I would like to concentrate on two of those values in contemporary American life. They are an extension of Serra’s second objective. They imply a kind of teaching, but the lesson plans are written out in the longhand of daily living. The classes are conducted within the context of conscientious decision making and there are no recess periods.

The two values that are my concern here: the quality of life and the quest for holiness.

The former is an exercise of your ministry of guiding.

The latter is an expression of your cooperation with the Spirits’ mission of sanctifying.

Both are inextricably interlaced with the threads that form the fabric we call the meaningfulness of our existence.

The quality of life is something most of us take so much for granted that discussing it seems about as pressing as renewing the subscription to your wife’s garden club newsletter. It is hard to get excited about the “quality of life as a value” when your freezer’s full, your closets are packed, your garage has two cars to cover and the war is fought on someone’s else’s real estate.

(Continued next week!)