Image provided by Rev. Ronald P. Raab, C.S.C.
At Holy Cross House, our medical facility and retirement home, we invite various Holy Cross priests on a monthly schedule to preside at daily Mass. We welcome a local pastor or university scholar, one of our newly ordained, or another retired priest to offer the Eucharist in our chapel. I am honored to witness my brothers offering the Eucharist on behalf of the Universal Church for the healing of our men, for the remedy of injustice and war, on behalf of the poor or the paralyzed, and for the restoration of souls of those who have died.
I often pray for the priest who holds the sacred host and the gold chalice, aware of his human hands as they hold Christ’s Real Presence. I see in the hands of the newly ordained a vitality for the future, hands that are clear-skinned, strong, and certain in their actions. In the worn hands of our aging men, I witness the spots, the crooked arthritic fingers, the unsteady shaking from nerves or fear of forgetfulness. In all these hands that hold the sacredness of the sacrament of the Eucharist, I am reminded of how each priest has shepherded people in their years of priesthood. These shepherds of parishes and classrooms have grown into the sacrament they celebrate. Each man holds in his heart and in his hands the mystery of Christ Jesus, our Good Shepherd and Eternal King, the model of fidelity and fearless ministry in our world.
In the Solemnity of Christ the King, which we will celebrate on November 22, the end of our liturgical year concludes with the proclamation of Matthew 25:31-46. The gospel opens our hearts to welcome Christ Jesus and to welcome the poor, the thirsty and the hungry. The text reminds all Christians to see with new eyes the value of all human life and to live such a vision with service, integrity, and justice. The conclusion of our liturgical year reveals to us that we shall take our place in the Kingdom of Heaven when we set out on earth to find the lost, the fearful, and the fretting. As priests, we hold the treasure of Christ’s Real Presence in our hands at Mass and at the same time reach out to minister among the people who most need us and the mercy of God.
As we come to the concluding weeks of another liturgical year, I am even more attentive to the hands of our priests, who have served people in so many different parts of the world. These hands have been raised at Masses across the globe, blessing in the local language, remaining faithful as they have held books of prayer over the years. These are hands that have written articles, corrected exams, and held the weak hands of the dying. These are hands that have given hope to sick children, held a grieving mother in her devastation, reached out to touch the prisoner, the immigrant, and the person who lives on the streets. These are hands that have consoled the fearful soldier, blessed confessional secrets, organized unions for common workers, and assembled bashful children for music lessons. These are hands that have been lifted in prayer and grown weak with age after years of fidelity; hands that have been clasped together in surrender to God and that have been opened to welcome the stranger, the sinner, and the lost. These are the hands that still hold the Body of Christ at Mass so that we all can behold the love of God and the eternal presence of mercy in our small chapel.
The hands of a priest are not callused or rough, not strong as a day laborer’s or bruised as a craftsman’s, but I see in them the fidelity of his vocation and the history of his ministry in our world. They are hands that have done the heavy lifting of prayer when others have given up on God. Even swollen from medication or stiff with age, our priestly hands are open enough to respond to God’s voice and direction. I am confident that at the end of our lives our Shepherd King will welcome us with open hands after we have let go of our earthly identities and claim our true home in the Father’s love for all humanity.
In the Hands of Our Shepherd King…
May Christ hold the hands of the weary, who have let go of earthly security and purpose.
May Christ hold the hands of the exhausted, wounded by violence, war, and gunfire.
May Christ hold the hands of the sick, weakened by arthritis, Parkinson’s, and afflictions.
May Christ open the fists of people who cling to ego and self-sufficiency.
May Christ open the fists of people who victimize women and children.
May Christ open the fists of people who live with resentment and rage.
May Christ grasp the hands of people lost among the briars of loss and discouragement.
May Christ grasp the hands of people who ache to learn a new reliance on God.
May Christ grasp the hands of people hiding behind shame and anxiety.
May Christ comfort the hands that cling to perceived mistakes and past identities.
May Christ comfort the hands that hold only regret, worry, and fear.
May Christ comfort the hands that shake from loneliness and loss.
May Christ reward the hands that have prayed a lifetime.
May Christ soothe the hands that have worked for the common good.
May Christ love the hands that have embraced the poor and the grieving.
Amen
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About:
Rev. Ronald P. Raab, C.S.C., serves as religious superior of Holy Cross House, our retirement and medical facility at Notre Dame, Indiana. He is an award-winning author, blogger, and visual artist. Learn more: ronaldraab.com
Artwork:
Fr. Ron created this image, “Our Shepherd King,” in 2021. Fr. Ron’s artwork has been published in parishes, dioceses, and ecumenical settings around the world.
Provided by Rev. Ronald P. Raab, C.S.C., October 2026
