March 10, 2022
Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB
A Great Cloud of Witnesses
Tonight, we gather in this makeshift tent of the covenant to witness something permanent from these men whom we have known, sometimes well, sometimes regrettably little, to witness their promises as they advance, finally to the Order of Presbyter.
I say it is a temporary space, and it is, but when we think about it, isn’t every space we occupy in this world a temporary space for we have here no lasting city.
And perhaps, in the final analysis, the space we occupy for an event such as the one we are observing tonight is not as significant as the witnesses.
We have here a great cloud of witnesses
Tonight, here in this temporary, makeshift space we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. From their places on the walls, the former rectors of this seminary look down. In their days they witnessed thousands of signatures attached to documents of promises, first in Latin and now in English. In their days, they witnessed some triumphs, and some tragedies, the same triumphs and tragedies we witness today. Many of these men were glorious in their success – others, not so much. It remains to be seen what the legacy of the present incumbent of this venerable chair will be, how he will be judged by successive generations.
A great cloud of witnesses
Who else is in our midst tonight? From the corner of this tent Our Lady watches, resplendent in blue, towering over the scene, but in truth she seems more attentive to her Son than to our passing need, and that is right and just.
A great cloud of witnesses
Here is St. George, he is here as well, one eye on us, and one eye undoubtedly upon his Ukrainian sons and daughters, those who have thrown themselves upon his patronage, that soldier saint. He looks out on us but also upon a world, his world, smoldering on the brink of catastrophe, a landscape destined to witness the folly of human destruction in the wake of sub-human ego, and like St. George we are witnesses to that as well.
A cloud of witnesses
How about our Lord, resplendent here in this temporary space on Giotto’s glorious throne. He is surrounded by angels and saints, they sing, they praise, they are in heaven. Perhaps they are too busy for us with their celestial songbooks, perhaps they inhabit a world already made perfect while we fumble here below, nevertheless, they are witnesses, He is witness.
A cloud of witnesses
Peter and Paul, certainly they represent the future work, the future ministry of these men gathered tonight in this temporary space. Paul has fallen down on the road to Damascus, and we can only hope, only pray that conversion and visions, the hearing of God’s voice, that all of these are the future of these men. We can only hope, only pray that they will be struck blind by God’s light over and over again as they traverse the roads of future parishes, communities, countries. We can only pray that conversion, daily conversion in the Lord, will be their lot as it was the lot of Saul.
But there is also Peter, Peter the doubter, Peter the denier, Peter the fool who made his way home via an inverted cross. How many crosses await our brothers here? How many crosses await each of us? Thousands. That is the answer, thousands and thousands. Crosses of the flesh, crucifixions of the emotions, daily deaths of the spirit. That too is right and just.
Peter and Paul form also a chorus, that great cloud of witnesses.
And are there more than these? Certainly, there are. The Church triumphant also casts its enteral gaze upon these men, upon these promises. Who is gathered here tonight? Mothers and Fathers whose lives gave out before this day could be seen. Undoubtedly, they were taken too soon and yet tonight they open the doors and windows of this chapel, your mother is here, your father is here as well as grandparents who totter up to the banks of the river to smile with pride through old tear strained eyes. This is the day they longed for, they hoped for, they prayed and pray for. This Church triumphant gives a witness and it cares, and I know that fathers and mothers and grandparents and so many others are signaling to the saints to step over and hear their son, their grandson say what is on his heart as he promises to be a priest. Tonight, they call out to their celestial friends: Come here and see my son, my grand baby. I am so proud of him.
Oh, my brothers and sisters, these are a great cloud of witnesses
But I wonder, I wonder if the only witnesses needed are already gathered in this room, the Church militant, our simple selves?
Here are brothers who have walked with you, laughed with you, prayed with you, prayed for you. Here are brothers who are solid in their commitment to Christ and to Christ in you. Here are brothers who will stand the test of time, who will be with you even in future struggles, in late night calls, in weeping and in screaming at the injustice of the world, but likewise in laughter and joy. There may well be brothers in this room tonight that on some future night will be holding your hand, your wrinkled spotted hand as you hear the words spoken: Well done good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Master.
That is a great cloud of witnesses
And there are sisters here, women who will form your lives now and in memory, women who have hopefully taught you the power of the feminine genius, who will support you and strengthen you, cry with you, rejoice with you. Coworkers in the vineyard of the Lord, but who is working for whom may certainly be an object of speculation.
Here are fathers, priests, formators, teachers who you may never know how much they love you, have devoted hours of prayer for you, worried about you, wept for you.
A great cloud of witnesses
And here you are. We know you. I know you. I know what your bravado is hiding. I know the secret hurts in your heart. I know the fears you face in coming into your own as priests. I know that your elegant vestments and golden vessels may be curtains that you hope will hide your weaknesses, but brothers, remember my words, your only strength is embracing your weakness, embracing the cross of Jesus.
My brothers, tonight you make promises that cannot be undone by the powers of this world, by the enemy of humankind, even by your own folly and so I invite you now, evaporate into this great cloud of witnesses. In these sterile juridical words, be taken up into the cloud of unknowing, unknowing and fully known… even in a temporary space.