Flash Mob: The Text

This ‘litany’, which we used in the Eucharistic flash mob, has been a very popular element. Many have requested the text, and many who haven’t asked might still appreciate it.

Jesus Christ is in every book of the Bible…

In Genesis Jesus is...

“The Seed of the Woman”

In Exodus He is…

“The Passover Lamb”

In Leviticus He is…

“The Priest, the Altar & the Sacrifice”

In Numbers He is…

“The Pillar of Cloud by Day and the Pillar of Fire by Night”

In Deuteronomy Jesus is…

“The Prophet Like Moses”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Joshua Jesus is…

“The Captain of Our Salvation”

In Judges He is…

“Our Judge and Lawgiver”

In Ruth He is…

“Our Kinsman-Redeemer“

In I & II Samuel He is…

“Our Trusted Prophet”

In Kings & Chronicles He is…

“Our Reigning King”

In Ezra He is…

“The Rebuilder of the Broken-Down Walls of Human Life”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Nehemiah Jesus is…

“Our Restorer”

In Tobit He is…

“The Messenger of New Life”

In Judith He is…

“Weakness Turned into Victory”

In Esther He is…

“Our Advocate”

In I & II Maccabees He is…

“The Leader Who Dies for God’s Law”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Job Jesus is…

“Our Ever-Living Redeemer”

In Psalms He is…

“Our Shepherd”

In Proverbs He is…

“Our Wisdom”

In Ecclesiastes He is…

“Our Hope of Resurrection”

In the Song of Songs He is…

“Our Loving Bridegroom”

In Wisdom He is…

“The Emanation of God’s Thought”

In Ecclesiasticus Jesus is…

“Our Security”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Isaiah Jesus is…

“The Suffering Servant”

In Jeremiah He is…

“The Righteous Branch”

In Lamentations He is…

“Our Weeping Prophet”

In Baruch He is…

“The Mercy From the Eternal One”

In Ezekiel He is…

“The One With the Right To Rule”

In Daniel Jesus is...

“The Fourth Man in the Firey Furnace”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Hosea Jesus is…

“The Faithful Husband Forever Married to the Sinner”

In Joel He is…

“The One who Baptises with the Holy Spirit and Fire”

In Amos He is…

“The Restorer of Justice”

In Obadiah He is…

“Mighty to Save”

In Jonah He is…

“Our Great Foreign Missionary”

In Micah Jesus is…

“The Feet of One Who Brings Good News”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Nahum Jesus is…

“Our Stronghold in the Day of Trouble”

In Habakkuk He is…

“God My Saviour”

In Zephaniah He is…

“The King of Israel”

In Haggai He is…

“The Signet Ring”

In Zechariah He is…

“Our Humble King Riding on a Colt”

In Malachi Jesus is…

“The Sun of Righteousness”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Matthew Jesus is…

“God with us”

In Mark He is…

“The Son of God”

In Luke He is…

“The Son of Mary – feeling what you feel”

In John He is…

“The Bread of Life”

In Acts Jesus is…

“The Saviour of the world”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Romans Jesus is…

“The Righteousness of God”

In I Corinthians He is…

“The Resurrection”

In II Corinthians He is…

“The God of All Comfort”

In Galatians He is…

“Your Liberty. He sets you free.”

In Ephesians Jesus is…

“The Head of the Church”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Philippians Jesus is…

“Your joy”

In Colossians He is…

“Your completeness”

In I & II Thessalonians He is…

“Your hope”

In I Timothy He is…

“Your faith”

In II Timothy Jesus is…

“Your stability”

Come and kneel before Him now

In Titus Jesus is…

“Truth”

In Philemon He is…

“Your benefactor “

In Hebrews He is…

“Your perfection”

In James He is…

“The power behind your faith”

In I Peter He is…

“Your example”

In II Peter Jesus is…

“Your purity”

Come and kneel before Him now

In I John Jesus is…

“Your life”

In II John He is…

“Your pattern”

In III John He is…

“Your motivation”

In Jude He is…

“The foundation of your faith”

In Revelation Jesus is…

“Your coming King.”

He is…

the first and the last;

the beginning and the end.

He is the keeper of creation and the creator of all.

He is the architect of the universe and the manager of all time.

He always was, He always is and He always will be

unmoved, unchanged, undefeated and never undone.

He was bruised and brought healing,

He was pierced and eased pain,

He was persecuted and brought freedom,

He was dead and brought life,

He is risen and brings power,

He reigns and brings peace.

The world can’t understand him;

the armies can’t defeat him;

schools can’t explain him;

and the leaders can’t ignore him.

Herod couldn’t kill him;

the Pharisees couldn’t confuse him;

the people couldn’t hold him;

Nero couldn’t crush him;

Hitler couldn’t silence him;

the new age can’t replace him;

and Oprah can’t explain him away!

He is life, love, longevity & Lord.

He is goodness, kindness, gentleness and God.

He is holy, righteous, mighty, powerful, pure.

His ways are right, His words eternal, His rules unchanging,

and His mind… is on me.

He is my redeemer.

He is my saviour.

He is my God.

He is my Priest.

He is my Joy.

He is my Comfort.

He is my Lord

and He rules my life.

The Making of a Eucharistic Flash Mob

Br. Loarne, one of the friars I live with, is an ideas-machine. He’s forever coming up with new concepts and proposals, leaving me struggling to keep abreast of where he is. So it was quite unusual for me to blow him away with a new idea of my own. He’d been talking with an evangelist from our parish at Pantasaph in North Wales, and told me that they were hoping to do some sort of Catholic flash mob in their area. I suggested ‘flash-mob Eucharistic adoration’, and he staggered backwards across the room. Literally.

The idea had been long in germinating. Having been introduced to the phenomenon of flash mobs last year, the creative faculty somewhere in the back recesses of my mind started working away on the evangelistic possibilities. I looked at various Christian flash mobs, but wasn’t much inspired – except by the Alleluia Chorus one, which required more skill than I thought we had at our disposal. Besides, I wanted something more specifically Catholic. So it was at a Youth 2000 retreat, where they have continuous exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, that the idea of a Eucharistic flash mob first came to me. I use the phrase ‘came to me’ advisedly – I think it was a moment of inspiration, which do tend to happen in the Presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

At the time, I think I envisioned the flash mob as a possible Youth 2000 initiative. But I let the concept stew away in the aforementioned recesses of my mind, until Br. Loarne prompted it to come out of hiding. We quickly started praying and collaborating on the idea of doing it on our own patch in Preston. Both of us were partly motivated by a dissatisfaction with Corpus Christi processions and other ‘walks of witness’, which largely fail to make any connection with non-believers. I’d also often felt, on these Corpus Christi processions, a disappointment that no one among the passers-by would fall to their knees. “There must be some Catholics among them, after all”, I thought. So the prospect of modelling the proper response was appealing.

Our guardian, Br. John, gave us permission to go ahead. I then approached the parish priest of our intended location (a street called, appropriately enough, ‘Friargate’), who also gave permission. We've recently found out that we should have asked the bishop as well; but we didn't know that at the time, so we got on with the task of organising the event. Unlike many of the flash mobs you see on the internet, ours required no musical or dancing skill; all that was required of most participants was the ability to kneel on a hard surface. But we still had to gather together our ‘mob’ – I reckoned we needed at least 30 participants to make the necessary impact. Yes, I have to break it you – those of you who thought that the people kneeling were unprepared passers-by – most of them were part of the flash mob. But not all. At least four adorers were truly spontaneous. The fact that so many people have thought it spontaneous, however, is a sign of success – flash mobs are supposed to have the appearance of spontaneity.

Recruiting people for a novel event like this was difficult, not least because we wanted to keep the details from public circulation, and we were hampered by the fact that most Catholics hadn’t even heard of ‘flash mobs’. So the initial publicity was too mysterious, and only some personal appeals to some key groups got the necessary number together. Thanks are due in particular to the university students, the Irish travellers, and the parish of St. Wilfrid’s for responding with courage. People have written a lot about the bravery of us friars; but we’re used to standing out in public, unlike the brave souls who knelt down in the middle of the street.

Flash-mobbers getting
ready for action

As I wrote above, we wanted an event that made some connection with passers-by, so Br. Loarne came up with the idea of a ‘litany’ about Jesus with a refrain of “Come and kneel before Him now.” He got the litany from a Christian video on YouTube, but adapted it somewhat. He also thought up the plan for getting the sound system in position: having it brought along by a student using it to play reggae music, who could then switch tracks when the Blessed Sacrament was exposed.

The evangelistic element was even more significantly advanced by the presence of ‘undercover agents’ in the crowd, handing out cards designed by Br. Loarne (see picture), and taking opportunities to explain the proceedings to bemused onlookers. Ever tried to explain transubstantiation to a complete stranger? Top marks to our team of evangelists. It was also important that we had a follow-up to invite people to. Happily, we already had a series of ‘seeker services’ up and running.

Now to the central element of the whole event: Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. We were well aware that Eucharistic processions, the nearest precedent to what we planned, are supposed to involve cope, humeral veil, candles, and incense. But such rules are for the purpose of showing reverence to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and we reckoned that such reverence would be adequately shown by the dramatic sight of people kneeling down before Him in a busy street. Using the full paraphernalia normally (and rightly) associated with Exposition would have two related disadvantages. Firstly, it would undermine the spontaneous appearance of  flash mobs, which is how they connect with people. People do not normally walk around with candles and thuribles hidden under their jackets. Secondly, such things would serve to distance the Sacrament from passers-by, adding layers of to-them-meaningless ritual.

We had to have a decent monstrance, of course, but one light-weight and small enough. After trying a couple of churches and convents, I found the ideal monstrance in the chapel of Corpus Christi College (fittingly). I thank the chaplain for the loan of it.

One worry during our preparations was over whether we should inform the police. But we reasoned that if we didn’t block any traffic, there was little cause for the authorities to be concerned. So it was important to choose a pedestrianised venue. The spot on Friargate outside the St. George’s Shopping Centre seemed ideal; we’d already done some more low-key evangelisation there on occasions. But we only settled on it after prayer and a reconnaissance mission (in which we visited the site on the Thursday before, to check on traffic conditions and other practicalities). As it happened, a policeman did come by during the flash mob, and strolled by unconcerned. It might have been different if we’d been spectacularly successful and hundreds of people were kneeling in worship, blocking the street up. But that would have been a nice problem to have.

A whole extra dimension was added by filming the event, which we thought very important, given that it seemed to be the first of its kind. Providentially, Sean Zaniboni, a student of sound production, had recently joined our chaplaincy community, and he enthusiastically took up the idea and used his contacts in the ‘Media Factory’ to get a team and equipment together. Gerardo Gonzalez also came in to help out with filming. The manager of the Black Horse Hotel kindly let us use an upstairs room to do filming from, and another cameraman took up position in a café, while two others were free-roaming. One of the students kneeling in adoration had the sound-recording equipment concealed on her person. We did have to re-record Br. Loarne’s voice after the event, however, as it didn’t come across very clearly. And then Sean slaved for hours over the footage to put together the video in time for Corpus Christi. We should also mention Adam T., who took the photographs for us.

Br. Loarne briefing the participants

The choreography of our flash mob was simple compared to many others. At the preparatory meeting and briefing we split people into 5 groups, with instructions to arrive on the scene at different times (watches/phones had to be synchronised). The first group had to be the bravest, being the first to kneel down. I was to arrive at exactly1.15pm, and the first ‘kneelers’ 30 seconds after, once I’d elevated the monstrance. Others were to come on the scene at 1.16pm, and then at 1-minute intervals after that, so that the ‘congregation’ would slowly grow. The flash-mobbers were asked to start clapping and cheering at a certain point towards the end of Br. Loarne’s litany. Once again, the idea was to have something that seemed spontaneous, and which others could join in.

The stage having been set, it was fairly easy to walk up Friargate, as I often do, and stop and speak to one of the touts while I put on my stole. He was someone I’d met before, so he wasn’t surprised to see me. He was surprised, however, when I took out the monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament and held it up. “What’s that?!” he asked. “That,” I replied, “believe it or not, is Jesus.”

A People Set Apart

My last post, in which I wrote about the religious habit being a sign that I'm set apart to God, prompted the following question from a reader:

What does it mean to be set apart to God? I'm not trying to be rude, or mean, or anything negative, but help me understand. Being set apart to God doesn't make you any more special than everyone else, does it? I mean, everyone is special in God's eyes, so it couldn't be that. But then what does it mean to be "set apart"?

That's a good question, deserving of a thorough answer. And let me begin by quoting a better theologian than me. I providentially came across this relevant passage from Pope Benedict's latest book, 'Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week':

The process of consecration, "sanctification", includes two apparently opposed, but in reality deeply conjoined, aspects. On the one hand, "consecrating" as "sanctifying" means setting apart from the rest of reality that pertains to man's ordinary everyday life. Something that is consecrated is raised into a new sphere that is no longer under human control. But this setting apart also includes the essential dynamic of "existing for". Precisely because it is entirely given over to God, this reality is now there for the world, for men, it speaks for them and exists for their healing. We may also say: setting apart and mission form a single whole. (p.86)

This describes very well the way in which consecration is a 'setting apart'. And the following words of St. Peter supplement those of his current successor, by making it clear that this applies to all Christians, not just the members of religious orders:

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of Him Who called you out of darkness into His marvellous light. (1 Peter 2:9)

It is baptism that consecrates the Christian to God, that raises him or her into a new sphere no longer under human control. So all the baptised are 'set apart', and this poses a bit of a puzzle with regard to 'consecrated religious' like myself. In what way are we more set apart?

I find it very helpful to reflect on how consecration into a religious order is not a sacrament; rather, the Church teaches that such consecration is rooted in and flows out of baptismal consecration. It is no more than an expression of our baptism – but it is a special expression. The way I see it is that religious consecration expresses more visibly and makes more obvious those things which are true for every Christian.

This is how I came to understand the place of the religious vows – poverty, celibacy, and obedience. All Christians should see God as their only treasure, and place all that they have and are at His disposal, relying on Him to provide for them. But the religious vow of poverty makes this inner attitude more obvious and immediate. All Christians should love God above and before all others. But the vow of celibacy makes the primacy of this relationship more obvious. And all Christians should accept God as their Lord, following his will in all things, finding their freedom in Him. But the vow of obedience brings the obedience we owe God into greater relief, by trusting that His will can be revealed through members of His Church.

These inner attitudes, whether expressed through religious vows or not, are aspects of Christian consecration – our 'setting apart' to God. The role of the religious brother or sister is to display this consecration more openly. Hence it is fitting that many religious wear a habit. The Christian's baptismal consecration always ought to be visible, even if only through the way he or she lives. So those whose gift is to be all the more visible will often wear something to make their consecration as obvious as can be.

To summarize, I see it in terms of the Sermon on the Mount. All Christians should be both 'the salt of the earth and the light of the world'(Matt 5:13-14). But the role of the laity lays more emphasis on being the salt, on being that subtle, unseen presence which gives flavour to everything else, which is often noticed only by its absence. Whereas for religious the emphasis is on being the light of the world, the city on a hill-top that cannot be hidden.

On Wearing A Dress

There's more value, I guess, in posting stuff that most people don't know. So I thought, as one of the few men who go around wearing a dress, that it'd be good to share something about the advantages and disadvantages of this unusual behaviour. For those not in the know, I ought to explain that this particular dress I wear is technically called a 'habit'.

Advantages of wearing the habit

1.     Visibility: apart from reminding me that I'm consecrated to Christ, the habit also tells other people that I'm set apart to God, even if they don't fully understand in what way. We Franciscans are particularly blessed in having the most widely-recognised habit.

2.    Availability: because of the above, or just out of curiosity, many people feel able to approach me. It may be to ask for prayers, to talk with me about problems, to question me about my beliefs, or simply to ask what and who I am. It all means the habit reaches the people that other clothes don't.

3.    Style: let's face it, long robes are just so cool. And if ever forget the fact, I only have to whistle the theme tune from the Lord of the Rings, brandish an imaginary light saber, or do some kung fu moves. In particular, the resemblance of the Jedi robes to a Franciscan habit is often noticed. Mind you, I take my hood off to the Dominicans, who in my opinion have the coolest habit in Christendom.

4.    Ease: I never have to think about what I'm going to wear when I get up in the morning. It's brown every day, and the only variation is in the colour of the T-shirt to be seen poking above the collar of the habit. And as it's no longer made of rough, undyed wool, the habit is actually very comfortable to wear, and easy to wash. Finally, we Franciscans have a particular advantage in that brown doesn't show stains much.

5.    Football: there may be something against it in the rules, but I've discovered that playing football (aka soccer, for the benefit of North American readers) in my habit does mean that it's almost impossible for somebody to put the ball between my legs. Especially useful if you're playing in goal.

Disadvantages of wearing the habit

1.     Confusion: although most people recognise the habit as of religious significance, I have been mistaken as a Jew, a Moslem, and a Buddhist (once all on the same day!). Some people don't even recognise the habit as religious at all.

2.    Bum-magnet: the flip-side of availability is that I can get approached by confidence-tricksters, angry and argumentative types, drunks, the mentally-ill, and Mormon missionaries. I console myself with the thought that Jesus was also a bum-magnet.

3.    Mockery: many people, alas, fail to see the utter coolness of my clothing, and it is an almost-everyday occurrence to have jokey or derogatory remarks thrown in my direction. (Those who shout, "Hey, Jesus!" aren't too wide of the mark, however.) Actual anger and hatred are rare experiences, but not unknown.

4.    Sweat: in the summer-time I can get very hot, especially as the dark colour of the habit soaks up the Sun's rays. Once I've ensured that I'm wearing minimal underclothing and I've rolled up my sleeves, there's not much left to do except sweat it out.

5.    Impracticality: despite its usefulness in one respect when playing football, the habit isn't ideal for sports or other strenuous activities. I can't run quite so fast in it, and I rapidly get sweaty (see above). The long skirts, wide sleeves, large rosary, and the knotted cord all tend to catch on things or otherwise get in the way. This was brought home to me very strongly the day I climbed a tree to pick apples whilst wearing my habit (although I did get a good homily out of the experience).

Of course, many of the disadvantages can, by the grace of God, become advantages. Mockery, for example, helps to make me humble, and can provide evangelistic opportunities. So I am, after nearly eleven years in the religious habit, very glad to be wearing it.

Rocking The Boat

Many people I know are very dissatisfied with their parish or equivalent Church community. Most of the time the priest is apparently the central problem. He may be nasty, or a heretic, or a wet blanket who stifles everything, or simply dull and ineffective. Occasionally the priest is quite good, but can't do anything with an intransigent community who've 'always done it this way'. But the question is, what is the faithful disciple of Christ to do in such circumstances? There are three main options: 1. hunker down and wait for things to change (e.g. for the parish priest to die or move on); 2. move to another parish or church (Catholic, of course); 3. do something to change the situation.

Option 1 is not really acceptable, although it's a very common approach. When I first started thinking about this post, I was inclined to recommend option 2 as a ruthless but worthwhile way of dealing with problem parishes - vote with your feet and let the parish die. But I've had something of a change of mind, partly because I've heard of what can happen if people try option 3.

Changing the situation isn't easy, of course. Even if you have the nerve to speak to your priest, priests are notoriously bad at listening. Convinced as we are of our superiority to the laity, we blithely carry on as before. And that's why I think that option 2 isn't much of a goer, because the priest won't even get the message if people emigrate from the parish, and he'll just end up going to another parish and doing the same there. 

Of course, you could write to the bishop. But the bishop will probably only intervene if things are very bad indeed. And even then he doesn't have much power, if the priest is intransigent. So what can one do? I can't speak from experience, but I can share what I've mentioned above - that I've heard good things about what happens if people take some initiative.

There are two things that are important, it seems. The first, unsurprisingly, is prayer. Pray for the priest, for the parish, for whatever or whoever seems to be the problem (not forgetting, of course, to pray for yourself, knowing what a problem you are). But to be effective, the prayer has to be communal - a group of the faithful must get together to pray, and perhaps also to fast. I have heard of converted clergy resulting from this. In one striking case, however, when a community of sisters started to fast and pray for their parish priest, he was dead within the week!

The second important aspect is summed up in the well-known phrase, 'Be the change you wish to see'. Again, the 'you' in this case is plural. If your priest is teaching heresy, get together to study the Bible and/or the Catechism, or other worthy material. If he's dull and uninspiring, get together to share and do things that inspire you. If he's uncaring, form a group to provide help and care to those in the parish community who've been neglected. If the liturgy's as dull as ditchwater, then meet together to praise God in more enjoyable ways. You don't need the priest's permission to do these things if you meet in your homes or at non-parish venues.

All of the above assumes the priest is the major problem; but as I said at the beginning, he may be fine and the parish be the problem. In which case you (plural 'you' again) can form for the priest the nucleus of a new community.

Most success, it seems, is to be had if the group of loyal disciples aims to be evangelistic. Only thus does it impact on the wider parish. Moreover, if you're going to evangelise, that necessarily means you have to put all the other elements in place: prayer, community, teaching, and care. Once new members start to come into the parish as a result, this inspires and re-energises the whole community, including the priest – although the process is not without its challenges, of course.

As I said, I don't speak from experience, only from hearsay. So I'll be interested to learn from you, dear reader, especially from your experience. But I do believe there has to be a way to revitalise parishes. The new movements and other lay communities are essential to the Church, and may well be the nourishment and support for those who would renew their parishes. But these parishes remain important for 'incarnating' the Gospel in particular places. Believing this to be the Lord's aim, it must be that He will provide His people with the gifts necessary to bring it about.

Don't abandon ship. Rock the boat.

Brother and Priest?

My first post was an explanation of the title of this blog, but I also think it necessary to explain my own title. Sooner or later, people to whom I've introduced myself as 'Brother Paul' get a little puzzled when they see me celebrating Mass. "Oh, I'm sorry," they'll say, "I thought you were a brother." Then when I say, "Yes, I am a brother", you can see the puzzlement increasing.

I must admit to a little mischievous amusement at subverting Catholic preconceptions about priestly titles. After all, we're all used to addressing a priest as 'Father', and when we meet religious orders we learn that the 'Brothers' are those who are not priests. But then along comes an awkward exception - a priest who goes by the title of 'Brother'. What's going on?

"It's the Capuchin custom", I usually tell people, without going on to quote the relevant passage from the Constitutions of the Order: "in accordance with the Rule [of St. Francis], the Testament [of St. Francis] and the earliest custom of the Capuchins, all of us should be called brothers without distinction." Now, however, I have leisure to explain at greater length the why and wherefore.

It all goes back to St. Francis and his followers, all of whom were called 'Brother'. In fact, the word 'friar' is an English corruption of 'frater' - the Latin for 'brother'. An appreciation of universal brotherhood (and sisterhood) under the universal Fatherhood of God is a key aspect of St. Francis' special charism. His tendency to address animals, birds, sun and moon, and even the elements as 'Brother' and 'Sister' is well known. But of course his brotherly feeling towards his fellow humans was even stronger, and he consistently referred to himself as 'Brother Francis'. Importantly, he linked the idea of brotherhood to that of 'minority' or humility. The title was intended to convey not mere equality, but lowliness.

Over the centuries, however, the tendency to take other titles crept in. So when the Capuchin reform tried to restore the original Franciscan charism, one of the measures was an insistence on this humble title of 'Brother'. This is exemplified by St. Lawrence of Brindisi (pictured), who always referred to himself as 'Brother Lawrence', despite holding posts like General Minister of the Order and Papal ambassador. But fast-forward to the 20^th century, and we find that even the Capuchins have fallen in with the common usage whereby priests are called 'Father'. Hence, for example, our most famous saint is known as 'Padre Pio' rather than 'Fra Pio'. But the Second Vatican Council asked all Orders to go back to their founding charisms, so it is now written into our Constitutions that all Capuchins should be called brothers.

So much for the historical background, but I would like to say something about the value of this Capuchin peculiarity. Because I will admit that it does cause confusion, and other branches of the Order have decided to go with the usual Catholic custom of addressing priests as 'Father', partly so that people know who the priests are. But without in any way contradicting this normal practice, I want to briefly point out how it can be appropriate and even helpful to call a priest 'Brother'.

Scripture explicitly links the priesthood with brotherhood: "[Jesus] had to be made like His brothers in every respect, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest"(Heb 2:17). Likewise the liturgy, based on Scriptural language, has the priest addressing the people as brothers and sisters; e.g. "Pray, brethren, that our sacrifice may be acceptable to God, the Almighty Father" (or, for those of you who prefer the Latin, "Orate, fraters..."). Lex orandi, lex credendi – the rule of prayer is the rule of belief – if the liturgy implies that priests are the brothers of the people, they are.

Pope Paul VI told priests, "We must become brothers to all at the very same time as we wish to be their shepherds, fathers and teachers." It is this brotherly aspect of the priesthood that we Franciscan priests are particularly well-placed to emphasise. The title 'Brother' serves to remind us that our priesthood should operate out of a primarily fraternal attitude, and reminds others that we are their brothers. Important and special though the priesthood is, priests are of the same flesh and blood, of the same stock, of the same nature as anyone else (cf. Heb 2:11,14). And therein lies the beauty of our calling, to make Jesus Christ our Brother, the incarnate Son of God, present among His people.

Blessed John Paul the Great

I have to admit to something of a bias here: for me, as for many others of my generation, John Paul II was the Pope. His twenty-six years as Bishop of Rome may not be that much in the broad sweep of history, but it's a long time from the perspective of an individual's life. Karol Wojtyla was elected as Pope shortly after my third birthday, and died in my thirtieth year. That means I cannot remember any Pope before him, and that he was Pope all the way through my time at school and university and for my five years of initial formation as a friar. Always there in the background, his influence on my Catholic upbringing and development was considerable. He more or less defined what it was to be Pope, and therefore also contributed hugely to my understanding of what it is to be Catholic.

Even from a more objective viewpoint, however, I do believe that Blessed John Paul II deserves to be known as 'the Great'. He did, in fact, redefine the role of the Papacy – bringing it onto an international stage as never before, visiting countries all over the world to make the focus of Catholic unity and identity a more immediate experience for God's people. His other, more specific contributions to the Church are too numerous for me to list here. But of course he'll be remembered – and remembered with gratitude – in the wider world most of all for his role in the downfall of European Communism.

Something of the greatness of the man was brought home to me afresh by watching the film Karol: the man who became Pope (I warmly recommend it). It was truly awe-inspiring to see how his priestly vocation emerged amongst the horrors of the Nazi occupation, and then to see him, first as a priest and then as a bishop, combating with great love and courage the Communist oppression.

Yet when I reflected on my feelings after the film, I found that I was not only deeply impressed – I was also somewhat intimidated. My response to other comparable films, such as those dramatising the lives of St. Pio and St. Faustina, was to feel inspired. But, as I say, watching this version of Karol Wojtyla's pre-Papal life was more intimidating. I realised that it's because he's so great, with so many gifts, that I just couldn't imagine emulating him.

Greatness, however, is not the same as blessedness. Karol Wojtyla could have been great without being blessed, and he could have been blessed without being great. And the kind of greatness that we're talking about is not given to all. As George Weigel, his biographer, points out, "very few of us will enjoy the range of intellectual, spiritual, literary, athletic, and linguistic gifts that God gave Karol Wojtyla." But, as he goes on to say, "all of us share with him the possibility of being radically converted Christian disciples" – that is, all of us can attain to blessedness.

Almost by definition, greatness is not open to all, for 'Great' is a relative term – if everyone was 'Great' the word would be meaningless. But blessedness is open to all, for heaven is not limited in size, and no matter how many Blesseds and Saints there are, there's always room for more.