The designation Christ—Anointed One became the proper name of Jesus because the Divine mission that this name signifies was perfectly fulfilled in Him. The Gospels do not say that Jesus was ever anointed externally, like David or Aaron in the Old Testament, upon whose beard a precious ointment ran down (Ps. 133; 132:2). When we speak of Christ’s “anointing,” we mean the direct anointing by the Holy Spirit, signified and attested by Christ’s perfect fulfillment of the mission entrusted to Him by His Father. Saint Irenaeus expressed this very beautifully: “For in the name of Christ is implied, He that anoints, He that is anointed and the unction itself with which He is anointed. And it is the Father who anoints, but the Son who is anointed by the Spirit, who is the unction.”4
At Christ’s birth the angels announced to the shepherds: “Today in the city of David a Savior has been born for you who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). “Christ” means the Anointed One. With Him is born both the universal, messianic, and salvific anointing, in which all the baptized participate, and also the special anointing that He, the Messiah, wished to share with bishops and priests chosen to exercise apostolic responsibility for His Church. The sacred Oil of Chrism, a sign of the power of the Divine Spirit, flowed over our heads and integrated us into the messianic work of salvation. With this anointing we received in a specific manner the threefold mission: as prophet, priest, and king.
Sacred Chrism
I thank the Lord for the first anointing with sacred Chrism that I received in my hometown of Wadowice. It took place during my Baptism. We are all justified and clothed in Christ by this sacramental cleansing with water. We also receive the gift of the Holy Spirit for the first time. This anointing with Chrism is a sign of the outpouring of the Spirit, who gives new life in Christ and enables us to live in the righteousness of God. That first anointing is completed with the seal of the Holy Spirit received in the sacrament of Confirmation. The deep and direct bond between these sacraments is particularly evident in the Liturgy of Adult Baptism. The Eastern Churches, for their part, have also preserved this direct bond in infant baptism by conferring Baptism and Confirmation together.
These first two sacraments and the most holy mystery of the Eucharist are linked with the vocation to the priesthood and the episcopate by a bond so strong and deep that it constantly reveals new riches to our grateful hearts. We bishops have not only received these sacraments ourselves, but we are sent to baptize, to gather the Church around the Table of the Lord, and to strengthen the disciples of Christ with the seal of the Holy Spirit in the sacrament of Confirmation. A bishop, in the course of his ministry, has many opportunities to confer this sacrament. By anointing candidates with sacred Chrism, he imparts to them the gift of the Holy Spirit, who is the source of life in Christ.
In many places during ordinations, you can hear the faithful sing: “Priestly people, royal nation, holy assembly, people of God, sing to your Lord!” I like the rich content of this hymn.
We sing to You, beloved Son of the Father!
We glorify You, eternal Wisdom, living Word of God.
We sing to You, only Son of the Virgin Mary,
We adore You, Christ, our Brother,
You have come to save us.
We sing to You, Messiah, welcomed by the poor,
We adore You, O Christ, our King so humble and meek ( . . . )
We, Your branches, sing to You, O life-giving Vine.
All vocations are born in Christ, and this is what is expressed by every anointing with Chrism—from holy Baptism to the anointing of the head of a bishop. This is the source of the dignity common to all Christian vocations, which, from this point of view, are all equal. They differ according to the role that Christ assigns to each individual within the community of the Church and the responsibility attached to the role. Great care must be taken so that “nothing is wasted” (John 6:12): no vocation should be wasted because all are valuable and necessary. The Good Shepherd gave His life for the lives of all (John 10:11). This is precisely the responsibility of a bishop: he should realize that it is his duty to ensure that all who are chosen and called by Christ, even the least, can discover and fulfill their vocation in the Church. That is why a bishop, like Christ, calls, gathers, and teaches around the Table of the Body and Blood of Christ. At the same time, the bishop both leads and serves. He must be faithful to the Church—and to each of its members, even to the least whom Christ has called and with whom He identifies (Matt. 25:45). As a sign of this fidelity the bishop receives a ring.
The Ring and the “Rationale”
The ring on the bishop’s finger signifies that he is married to the Church. “Accipe anulum, fidei signaculum— Take this ring, the sign of your fidelity. In integrity of faith and purity of life, protect the holy Church, bride of Christ. Esto fidelis usque ad mortem . . .” These words are taken from the Book of Revelation—“Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life” (Rev. 2:10).
This ring, a nuptial symbol, expresses the particular bond between the bishop and the Church. For me it is a daily call to fidelity. It is like a silent question that echoes in my conscience: Am I totally dedicated to my Bride—the Church? Am I sufficiently “for” the communities, families, young and old people, and also “for” those yet to be born?
My ring also reminds me of the need to be a strong link in the chain of succession that stretches back to the Apostles. And the strength of a chain is measured by its weakest link. I must be a strong link, strong with God’s own strength: “The Lord is my strength and my shield” (Ps. 28; 27:7). “Even though I walk through a dark valley, I fear no harm, for you are at my side; your rod and your staff give me courage” (Ps. 23; 22:4).
The bishops of Kraków enjoy a special privilege, reserved, as far as I know, to just four dioceses in the world. They have the right to wear the so-called rationale. Outwardly it resembles the pallium. In Kraków it is kept in the treasury of Wawel Cathedral— a gift from Queen Hedwig. In itself this sign means nothing. It acquires significance only when the archbishop wears it. It then symbolizes his authority and his service: because he has authority, he must serve. In a sense, it is a symbol of the Passion of Christ and of all the martyrs. As I put it on, I often recalled the words of the elderly Apostle Paul to the still young bishop Timothy: “So do not be ashamed of your testimony to our Lord, nor of me, a prisoner for His sake; but bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God!” (2 Tim. 1:8).
“Guard What Has Been Entrusted to You” (1 Tim. 6:20)
After the prayer of consecration, the ritual provides for the presentation of the Book of Gospels to the new bishop. This gesture indicates that the bishop is to accept and preach the Good News. He is a sign of the presence in the Church of Jesus, the teacher. Teaching is of the essence of a bishop’s calling—he too must be a teacher.
We know how many outstanding bishops, from ancient times to the present, have fulfilled this mission in a most exemplary way. They cherished the prudent advice of the Apostle Paul as an admonition addressed personally to them: “O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you. Avoid profane babbling and the absurdities of so-called knowledge” (1 Tim. 6:20). They were good teachers because they built their entire spiritual life around the Word, listening to it and proclaiming it. In other words they were able to put aside unnecessary words and devote themselves wholeheartedly to the “one thing necessary” (Luke 10:42).
The bishop is to become the servant of the Word. Precisely as a teacher he sits on the cathedra—the chair eloquently situated in the church known for that reason as the “cathedral,” from which he is to preach, proclaim, and explain the Word of God. Our times have placed new demands on bishops with regard to their teaching office, but have also offered them wonderful new resources to help them preach the Gospel. The ease of travel has enabled bishops to visit the various churches and communities in their own diocese more frequently. They have at their disposal radio, television, the Internet, the printed word. The
re are others who assist the bishop in proclaiming the Word of God: priests and deacons, catechists and teachers, professors of theology, and an ever-growing number of educated laypersons faithful to the Gospel.
But nothing can take the place of the bishop seated upon the cathedra or standing in the pulpit of his episcopal church, personally expounding the Word of God to those gathered around him. And he, like “every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven, is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom things old and new” (Matt. 13:52). Here I wish to mention the archbishop emeritus of Milan, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini, whose catechesis in the cathedral attracted crowds of listeners to whom he revealed the treasure of God’s Word. This is only one of many examples that prove how hungry the people are for the Word of God. How important that this hunger be satisfied.
I have always been convinced that if I am to satisfy the people’s hunger for the Word of God, I must follow the example of Mary and first listen to it myself and ponder it in my heart (Luke 2:19). I have also come to realize that a bishop must be able to listen to the people to whom he preaches the Good News. Amid today’s flood of words, images, and sounds, it is important that a bishop not be thrown off course. He must listen attentively to God and to those around him, convinced that we are all united in the one mystery of God’s saving Word.
The Miter and Crosier
The call to become a bishop is certainly a great honor. This does not mean, however, that he is chosen for having distinguished himself among many others as an outstanding person and Christian. The honor comes from his mission to stand at the heart of the Church as the first in faith, first in love, first in fidelity, and first in service. If someone seeks in the episcopal office honor for its own sake, he will not be able to fulfill his episcopal mission well. The first and most important aspect of the honor due to a bishop lies in the responsibility associated with his ministry.
“A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden” (Matt. 5:14). The bishop is always on a mountain, always on a lamp-stand, visible to all. He must always be aware that whatever happens in his life takes on greater meaning in his community. “And the eyes of all looked intently at him” (cf. Luke 4:20). Just as a father shapes the faith of his children primarily by his example of prayer and religious fervor, so also a bishop inspires his faithful by his behavior. That is why the author of the First Letter of Peter begs that bishops be “a living example to the flock” (1 Pet. 5:3).
In this context, the investiture with the miter during the ordination liturgy is an especially eloquent sign. The newly ordained bishop receives the miter as a reminder of his commitment to let the “light of holiness will shine in him” and to prove worthy “to receive the unfading crown of glory” when Christ, the “Supreme Shepherd,” will appear.5
A bishop is called to personal holiness in a particular way so that the holiness of the Church community entrusted to his care may increase and deepen. It is his responsibility to promote the “universal call to holiness” of which the fifth chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium speaks. As I wrote at the conclusion of the Great Jubilee, this vocation constitutes “an intrinsic and essential aspect” of ecclesiology (Novo millennio ineunte, 30). The people of God, “brought into unity from the unity of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,” is a people that belongs to the One who is “thrice holy” (cf. Isa. 6:3). “To profess the Church as holy,” I wrote, “means to point to her as the Bride of Christ, for whom He gave Himself precisely in order to make her holy” (Novo millennio ineunte, 30). The gift of holiness becomes the goal. We must constantly remind ourselves that the entire life of a Christian must be directed toward this goal: “This is the will of God, your holiness” (1 Thess. 4:3).
At the beginning of the 1970s, referring to the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium, I wrote: “The history of salvation is the history of the whole People of God, which also pervades the lives of individuals and takes a new specific form in each. The essential meaning of holiness is that it is always personal, and that each and every man is called to it. All members of the people of God are called, but each is called in a unique and unrepeatable manner.”6
The personal holiness of every individual gives added beauty to the face of the Church, the Bride of Christ. This enables our contemporary world to accept her message more easily.
The presentation of the crosier comes next in the ordination liturgy. It is a sign of the authority that enables the bishop to fulfill his duty to care for his flock. Like other signs, it too speaks of the bishop’s solicitude for the holiness of the People of God. A shepherd must watch and protect, must lead every sheep “into green pastures” (Ps. 23; 22:2), where the sheep will discover that holiness is not “some kind of extraordinary existence, possible only for a few ‘uncommon heroes’ of holiness. The ways of holiness are many, according to the vocation of each individual” (Novo millennio ineunte, 31). What a great potential of grace lies dormant in the vast numbers of the baptized! I constantly pray that the Holy Spirit may set ablaze the hearts of bishops with His fire, so that we may become teachers of holiness, able to attract the faithful by our example.
I recall the moving farewell of Saint Paul to the elders of the Church in Ephesus: “Keep watch over yourselves and over the whole flock of which the Holy Spirit has appointed you overseers, in which you tend the Church of God that He acquired with His own blood” (Acts 20:28). The command of Christ urges every shepherd: “Go . . . and make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:19). Go . . . never stop! How well we know the Divine Master’s expectation: “I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will last” (John 15:16).
The crosier with the Crucifix that I presently use is a replica of the crosier of Paul VI. I see in it a symbol of three duties: pastoral care, leadership, and responsibility. It is not a sign of authority in the usual sense of the word, nor is it a sign of precedence or supremacy over others: it is a sign of service. As such, it is a sign of the care I must show for the needs of the sheep: “that they might have life and have it more abundantly!” (John 10:10). A bishop must guide and lead. The faithful will listen to him and love him to the degree that he imitates Christ, the Good Shepherd, who “did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many”
(Matt. 20:28). To serve! How I treasure those words! A priesthood of service—what an astounding title . . .
Sometimes you hear people defending the idea that a bishop’s authority should be understood as precedence: they say the sheep are to follow behind the shepherd, not the shepherd behind the sheep. One can agree with this, but only in the sense that the shepherd leads by giving his life for his sheep; he should be first in sacrifice and in dedication. “The Good Shepherd who laid down his life for his sheep is risen from the dead. For the sake of his flock he was willing to endure death.”7The bishop’s precedence takes the form of a generous love for the faithful and for the Church, in imitation of Saint Paul: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ for the sake of his body, which is the Church” (Col. 1:24).
Another responsibility that certainly forms part of a pastor’s role is admonition. I think that in this regard I did too little. There is always a problem in achieving a balance between authority and service. Maybe I should have been more assertive. I think this is partly a matter of my temperament. Yet it could also be related to the will of Christ, who asked His Apostles not to dominate but to serve. Obviously a bishop has authority, but much depends on the way he exercises it. If a bishop stresses his authority too much, then the people think all he can do is issue commands. On the other hand, if he adopts an attitude of service, the faithful spontaneously tend to listen to him and willingly submit to his authority. So a certain balance is needed. If a bishop says: “I’m in charge here” or “I’m only here to serve,” then something is missing: He must serve by ruling and rule by serving. We have an eloquent model of t
his dual approach in Christ Himself: He served unceasingly, but in the spirit of serving God He was also able to expel the money changers from the temple when this was needed.
I do think, though, that despite my reluctance to rebuke others, I made all the necessary decisions. As the metropolitan of Kraków I tried very hard to make those decisions in a collegial spirit, that is to say I consulted my auxiliary bishops and other coworkers. Every week we met for curial sessions during which all matters were discussed in the light of the greater good of the archdiocese. I used to put two questions to my coworkers: “Which truth of faith sheds light on this problem?” And then: “Whom should we approach for assistance?” Finding a religious motivation for our action and the right person for a particular task was a good beginning, offering hope that our pastoral initiatives would bear fruit.
The presentation of the crosier concludes the rite of ordination. Then begins the Mass, which the new bishop concelebrates with the ordaining bishops. This is all so rich in meaning, in reflections, and in personal thanksgiving that it cannot be adequately expressed nor can anything more be added.
Pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady
After Mass I went directly from Wawel Cathedral to the seminary where the reception was held for invited guests, but that same evening I went to Czecstochowa with a group of my closest friends. There, on the following morning, I celebrated Mass in the chapel of the miraculous image of Our Lady.
Czecstochowa is a special place for Poles. In a sense it can be identified with Poland and its history, especially the history of the struggle for independence. Here stands the national shrine called Jasna Góra—the Bright Mountain. Clarus Mons: This name refers to the light that dispels darkness, and it took on a special meaning for Poles during the dark times of war, partition, and occupation. Everyone knew that the source of this light of hope was the presence of Our Lady in her miraculous image. It was so, perhaps for the first time, during the terrible Swedish invasion known in history as “the deluge.” At that time the shrine, significantly, became a fortress that the attackers could not conquer. The nation interpreted this sign as a promise of victory. Faith in Our Lady’s protection gave the Poles the strength to conquer the invader. From that moment the Shrine of the Bright Mountain became in some sense a bastion of faith, spirit, and culture and all that constitutes national identity. This was especially true during the long years of the partitions and the loss of national independence. Pope Pius XII alluded to this during World War II when he said: “Poland has not perished nor will it perish because Poland believes, Poland prays, Poland has the Bright Mountain.” And thanks be to God, those words proved true.
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