The Notebook
Bernard Cotter
“You’ll be very busy coming up to Christmas, Father.” As a newly-ordained priest, this frequently-repeated greeting in November and December confused me. I couldn’t figure how Christmas could make life even busier for me than every other month.
I asked my senior and wiser colleague, who explained gently that I would indeed be very busy coming up to Christmas — writing Christmas cards and buying presents (just like everyone else). And so it was.
In my first year of priesthood as a curate in a city parish, I noticed that this “you’re-very-busy” greeting was repeated frequently. People suggested I might be busy coming up to Easter, Confirmations, First Communions.
After my first year, I understood: people supposed I might be very busy on the occasions on which they saw more of me — even though I was just as busy when they didn’t see me at all.
Relentless
Parish life is nothing if not relentless: people get sick and die at all times of the year; they arrange christenings and marriages; people need a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. It’s wonderful to be free to help at such times of need, but this doesn’t always translate into visible busyness.
Why do people tell priests they are very busy? Is it because it has become a mantra oft-repeated by priests, busy or not? Or could it be that people think it’s something we priests like to hear? Could they believe it makes us feel relevant, involved, active, alive?
Do priests sometimes give the impression that we haven’t the time to sit and talk, or shoot the breeze, or listen to people’s joys and sorrows?
Because if we give that impression, it is both incorrect and unfortunate. Jesus never gave the impression that he had no time for vulnerable people. He might indeed have been preoccupied, but he always seemed to have room for one more person in need to come and disturb him.
And yet, for all that, he seems to have had balance in his life, with time alone and in prayer, as well as time besieged by misfortunate people.
Having a work/life balance is a continuing challenge for pastoral priests today, including time for work, and rest, and prayer.
The priest who works in parish ministry knows how hard it is to plan any of these, as life often intervenes. Plan a few days away and suddenly there’s a funeral.
Take a lie-in and the phone rings at sunrise. Light the fire for a relaxing evening by the fire, and that’s the very moment serious illness invades a parish home, and the priest’s presence is needed (and it is a privilege to be there).
Unintended
Sometimes I get a phone call prefaced with “I know you’re very busy, Father, but…” Maybe I am getting an unintended ‘get-out-of-jail’ card, however: if it’s a question I really don’t want to answer, or don’t know the answer to, I suppose I could always say: “Well, I’d love to deal with that now – but I am very busy!”
Christmas Eve nightmare
Priests up and down the country look at Christmas Eve this year with trepidation. How many Masses will we be forced to say? The regular Sunday schedule might involve two or three morning Masses. There are traditionally vigil and night Masses for the eve of Christmas as well. Both events fall on the same day in 2017 – this is the problem.
I have drawn the line at three Masses that day, for my sanity, though some priests may come under pressure to say more. The best gift you can give your priest is your understanding and support this Christmas.
Mind Your Priest
In another parish far away, I had a tough funeral, one of those ones where it is a privilege to support a family, but one which took a terrible toll on me. I met a friend and told her my story. She knew I always take a day off each week, but in honour of my difficult funeral she declared: “You must take three days off this week”.
That’s the kind of thing a true friend says. Be a friend to your local priest and make sure he takes care of his body, mind and soul.