I think you hit the nail on the head with the phrase “equal footing”. As an administrative assistant, I am often called on to speak on behalf of my boss. Sometimes these conversations are requests for tasks to be completed, or even sometimes relaying negative information. My co-worker may be higher up on the org chart, but if my boss needs me to go and ask him for a report, it is part of his duty to do his report. Because of this dynamic, I’ve never made a lot of friends at work. My friendships have always been outside of that dynamic, because I don’t want to jeopardize the ability to speak on behalf of my boss because I’m too chummy with a co-worker.
I have to have that same level of detachment with one of the priests at my parish. He and I are within a couple of years of each other, and we have a very similar disposition (dark sense of humor, a certain set of cultural references, etc), and a very similar spirituality. I feel confident that in another situation, we would have had a much different friendship.
That being said, he is my confessor. He hears the nastiness of my soul, and absolves me of my sins. I need to be able to tell him the pain in my heart, the temptations with which I struggle, and the falls I take in God’s eyes, without pride or fear of jeopardizing a relationship outside of the confessional doors. He is also my spiritual director, and as a Third Order Secular Carmelite aspirant, this is a very important role in my life. For my spiritual health, I need his spiritual friendship, as St. Teresa of Avila teaches, as a support and guide in my walk towards God. I need him to stay in that role of leader, of superior, of Father. I need him to keep his eyes on God and to treat me with detachment as a child of God for whose soul he is held responsible. I need my priest to be able to speak on behalf of his “boss”, so that I know what to do for the sanctity of my own soul.
His hands have been consecrated to God. He is as sacred as the chalice used to elevate the precious blood, and belongs to God and to God alone. I often reflect on the words of Msr. Ronald Knox - “A young candidate at ordination is prostrate on the floor, waiting like a dead thing for the Holy Spirit to come and quicken him into a new form of life.” When Father took those vows and was given the priesthood of God, he no longer belonged to any part of the world. Without the saving grace of confession, my soul would be dead, and I owe that grace to the power that God gave my priest. My priest whispers words over a piece of bread, and that bread becomes a man and that man is God, and then my priest places God on my tongue and I receive His body, blood, soul, and divinity into my soul.
When I turn my thoughts away from my own desire for friendship and companionship and spend time reflecting on the sanctity of the Holy Priesthood, it puts things into a much bigger perspective. Reflecting on the sublime vocation of the priesthood makes me almost weep with joy that a man would do that for others, to give himself entirely to the will of God for the sanctity of souls. The closer he becomes to God, the more graces will pour off of his altar during Mass. The more sanctified he is, the more souls he can save, and the more God will be loved. To take Father’s eyes off of God for even one instant to give myself any kind of creature comforts is a thought that strikes me with horror. I pray so often for all priests, for their sanctity and for their protection. I’ve heard it said that for every temptation that I have as a mere Catholic, a priest has a hundred. I cannot even imagine the battles that are fought behind that Roman collar. I have faith that God will give the priest what he needs to become sanctified, and may even take away all friendships and worldly consolations to purify and sanctify his soul, so that he can be truly alone with his Treasure.
