It has not been easy, but it has been grace-filled’

The following is the adapted reflection delivered by Fr Matthew Ragbir at a February 1 Mass to celebrate his tenth anniversary of priestly ordination (January 30) at the Church of the Assumption, Maraval. It has been edited for length.

Ten years ago, the Cathedral was not quite ready for an ordination as the renovations neared the end. And yet an ordination was going to happen. Much cleaning had to be done as the construction dust was everywhere.

That space, so symbolic of my own life and all our lives, as spaces where the divine and the human meet, had to be prepared, ‘nurtured’, by a community gathered around it, in a generous pouring out and preparation “formation.” It was intentionally worked on a number of times to prepare for the ordination and that’s how growth happens, in Community by the people of God, with God.

In 2018, as a young priest stationed in the Sangre Grande cluster, I had a major surgery that brought much anxiety, reflection and prayer. Touching one’s mortality brings clarity. I chose then to celebrate my priesthood when the 10th anniversary came around.

Late last year, my family touched that sobering clarity again through my dad’s health. I am happy that we can all be here today, even those who could not be here and really wanted to. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, but it is all gift. Thank you.

I thank God for His faithfulness through it all.

I love my vocation, my priesthood. It has not been easy, but it has been grace-filled. It has been an experience of being formed, moulded, remoulded over and over on the journey. It is filled with ups and downs, three steps forward and two steps back, sometimes two and a half steps back, but always trying with everything I am.

I have learnt that it is not my gift that has most shaped me, but my vulnerability embraced in humility, my weakness and struggle. These have been the best teachers of surrender to God’s will.

From the beginning of my priesthood, I was thrown into the deep, wearing many hats and being invited by the Lord to be poured out for the Kingdom.

These vast and varied experiences have stretched me, expanded my heart so much, blessed me and through good and challenging times, helped me grow.

Many priests today carry crosses of misunderstanding, discouragement, loneliness, burnout and exhaustion, stresses, and their own mental and self-care challenges. Whatever they are, these become part of the real journey and help us live beyond the collar as men who must enter that holy ground of our own souls and do the work there, where grief can take place and the encounter with the mystery we call God unfolds. I have learnt this is the real gold.

A journey that can never be done alone. One writer says, “the deepest healing occurs in relationships. People heal in the company of others who see and feel them and are willing to be seen and felt by them. When you share that you are afraid with someone who is able to witness and experience your fear with you, new space is made for the fear to be held and digested.

The same is true of anger, fear, shame, despair, and grief. No matter how severe our past experiences, it is always through the resonance of attuned and engaged relationships that people and communities overcome.

The safety and connection of compassionate shared witness create an opening, not only for healing but for collective transformation (Hübl). This is the power of authentic community which provides spaces for healing. May we all, through God’s grace, courageously help build such spaces in the midst of the fractured and fragmented world we live in.

Inevitably on the journey we are hurt and we hurt others, in one way or another. I am sorry for the times this has happened, especially through poor communication or awkwardness in handling some conflicts. Pray for me.

Pope Francis, whom I had the pleasure of meeting and serving at the Opening Mass of the Extraordinary Synod on the Family in 2014, left us a gift, left me a gift— it is synodality. I am a better priest because of synodality which has helped me mature.

I love the Church, the Eucharist, Reconciliation, walking with others and standing there in their joys and griefs to be Christ. I have had to balance that zeal with my own human limitations.

The journey has taught me the love and mercy of God, His love for the outcast, the marginalised, the pariah, for He will not break the crushed reed or quench the wavering flame (Is 42:3). This is one of my most cherished Bible verses.

I am learning to trust in the slow work of God who, as Finley says, “is moving us from doing to being, from achieving to appreciating, from planning and plotting to trusting the strange process in which, as we diminish, we strangely expand and grow in all sorts of ways we cannot and do not need to explain to anyone, including ourselves.”

A wise priest once wrote: “look at the books of Kings, Chronicles, Leviticus, Numbers and Revelation..… Those books, documenting the life of real communities, of concrete ordinary people, are telling us that ‘God comes to us disguised as our life’.”

Thank you for being part of how God comes to me.

I place everything into the hands of our Lord, Our Lady and St Joseph, the Holy Family of Nazareth.

All is gift. Pray for me.