The "Magnificent Humanity" of Christ the Eternal Priest

Old Road From Jerusalem To Jericho

F

irst: As the Church awaited the election of the next Pope after Pope Francis, a friend shared with me the “wishlists” people were posting online. Most of them highlighted the following qualities: It is not the usual wishlist like "I hope we get somebody who has at least some experience as a parish priest. I hope we get someone who has heard confessions and done marriage counseling." No. I hope we get someone who has a sister or brother who has been divorced. I wish he had a niece or a nephew who belongs to the LGBTQ+ community. It would be nice if the next Pope had a few close friends who are Muslims, Protestants, and even atheists. It would be nice if he had dealt with the poor, homeless, and drug addicts.

Then I told my friend that it is a wishlist that is not just for a Pope, it is for everyone. There is a great clamor to have somebody up there who has the capacity to bind or reconnect a fragmented society, the power to heal and reconcile the broken. This is the meaning of Christ's priesthood, a priesthood that binds together the broken pieces.

In the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus gives us a surprising image of the priesthood. A man lies wounded on the roadside, broken by violence and abandoned by others. First comes a priest, then a Levite. Both see the wounded man, yet both keep their distance and pass by. Perhaps they feared ritual impurity. Perhaps they did not want to be interrupted. Whatever the reason, they preserve separation rather than communion.

Then comes the Samaritan — an outsider. Yet he is the one who draws near. He touches the wounds. He pours oil and wine. He lifts the wounded man onto his own beast and leads him to a place of healing. Like a shepherd carrying an injured sheep, he does not leave the wounded man abandoned on the roadside but accompanies him with his presence.

And in this way, the Samaritan becomes an image of Christ the Eternal Priest and Good Shepherd. The priesthood of Christ is not first about distance or status. It is about binding what has been broken and gathering back to the fold. Like the Samaritan, Jesus crosses boundaries, heals wounds, and pours himself out.

Second: The priest is called not only to bind wounds, but also to lead people toward life. Like the Good Shepherd, Christ does not remain beside the injured sheep only to heal it; he also guides it back to green pastures and flowing waters. The priesthood of Christ is therefore not merely restorative but nourishing.

A shepherd searches for the lost sheep, gathers the scattered flock, and leads them to where they can live and grow. He knows that healing is only the beginning. The sheep must also be fed. They must be led to pasture.

So too with Christ the Eternal Priest. He not only forgives and restores; he nourishes, guides, and accompanies. He leads his people toward truth, communion, and abundant life. He pastures the flock through the nourishment of the Word, the Eucharist, and the steady care of accompaniment when he sends the flock out to pasture. He must accompany them in order to warn them of wolves nearby.

Pope Leo XIV just released his very first papal encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas (Magnificent Humanity). Pope Leo is offering guidance on the biggest issues of our time, namely, Artificial Intelligence.

Here’s what he said. Pope Leo calls AI a “valuable tool," but he warns that AI must never replace what is deeply human. He cautions against a society where technology destroys livelihoods, spreads misinformation, weakens families and human relationships, makes war easier, and concentrates dangerous power in the hands of a few. The real question, he says, is whether humanity will become a culture driven by power and efficiency or a civilization rooted in love, dignity, and authentic human communion.

Here are two powerful quotes from Pope Leo's letter:

"In the era of artificial intelligence when human dignity is threatened by new forms of dehumanization, ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human" (MH 15). "No computational system, however sophisticated, can create a heart that gives itself, or a conscience that discerns good from evil. Even when machines excel in efficiency, a human face that asks to be gazed upon remains the center of our history. This human face is the fullness toward which history is moving" (MH 233).

This brings me to my third point.

I fondly remember the late Fr Luis Candelaria SJ, whom we affectionately called “Lolo.” He lived to 95 and aged with remarkable grace. Before my ordination to the priesthood, I asked him what advice he could give me. His answer was short and unforgettable. Only two words: “Be human.”

The priesthood of Christ is rooted in being fully human. For only by being truly human can one bind the broken, show mercy and compassion, and above all, love. “We are not human beings searching for love, we are love searching for human experience.” Teilhard de Chardin SJ

God, who is love, searched for human experience when he lived as a human being with us, and this became the matter of his Eternal Priesthood.

The priesthood of Christ is a universal human calling, like the Good Samaritan who binds the wounds of his neighbor. Second, the priesthood of Christ calls us to pasture and accompany those entrusted to our care, especially through protection and guidance. And third, let us not be afraid to be human, for this is at the very heart of Christ’s priesthood. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ