Rector’s Day: 05 February 2026

 

Rector’s Day: 05 February 2026
Readings: 2 Sam 24: 2, 9-17; Mark 6:1-6
Theme: The Priesthood as a Sacrifice of Self, not a Service of Self.

Today we celebrate “Rector’s Day,” where we honor the leadership of this house. But as I look at today’s readings, I don’t see a crown or a throne. Instead, the Word of God holds up a mirror. For me, today isn’t about a title or a seat of honor. It is a day to realize that I am in debt to you. It is a day to reflect on the heavy, yet beautiful, responsibility of being your father and your brother. The scriptures today show us that leadership is a spiritual journey. I want to share that journey with you through three simple reflections: (1) The temptation to count, that is, when we value numbers more than souls. (2) The burden to stand in the gap, that is, when a leader prays and suffers for his people. (3) The courage to be shaped, that is, when we let the “Carpenter of Nazareth” use His tools on our hearts. Let us begin by looking at the first shadow that falls on any leader: the temptation to trust our own strength - the “Temptation of the Census.”

1. The Temptation of the “Census” (2 Sam 24)

In the first reading, King David commits a sin that feels remarkably modern: the sin of the census. Why was this sin? Because David wanted to measure his strength by his own resources rather than by God’s favour. He shifted his gaze from the Covenant to the Calculator. David’s sin was a shift in identity. He stopped being a shepherd, who knows his sheep by name, and started being a monarch, who knows his subjects by number.

Today, as Rectors and Formators, we all face this same shadow. We are tempted to look at the seminaries or formation houses through the lens of efficiency and statistics. We look at the enrolment numbers, the courses completed, and, importantly, the budget – the subsidy. The financial management in the formation houses is always a big botheration…

St. Paul reminds us in 1 Cor 1:27, “God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” If we ever begin to see the formees as merely candidates to fill vacancies in parishes or communities, then we have fallen into David’s trap. We must remember that when Samuel went to anoint a king in 1 Sam 16:7, the Lord told him: “Do not consider his appearance or his height... The Lord does not look at the things people look at.” So, our primary duty is not to manage a seminary or a formation house like a CEO, but to be a father or mother to a community.

We pray today to always see the “son” or “daughter” before we see the “student or formee.” In John 10:3, the Good Shepherd “calls his own sheep by name.” When David counted the people, he stopped seeing them as a ‘Chosen People’ and started seeing them as an ‘Available Army.’ For us, the census temptation is the shift from the Personal to the Functional. We must never let the ‘Function’ of a future priest blind us to the ‘Person’ of the seminarian. Our mission is not to recruit an army for the diocese/society or congregation, but to accompany sons/daughters on a journey of the heart.” We must trust that the ‘quality’ of the formation we give is more vital than the ‘quantity’ of the men we ordain.

2. Leadership as Intercession

When the plague strikes Israel as a consequence of David’s pride, David does something extraordinary: he stops acting like a king and starts acting like a priest. He stands before the Lord and utters, “It is I who have sinned... but these sheep, what have they done? Let your hand fall on me” (2 Sam 24:17). In the life of a Rector, there is a hidden, often exhausting mystery of intercession. In Ex 28:29, we read that the High Priest, Aaron, wore a breastplate set with twelve precious stones, each engraved with the names of the tribes of Israel. He was commanded to carry those names over his heart whenever he entered the Holy Place as a “continual reminder before the Lord.” As Rector, I do not enter this chapel alone. Every morning, I carry your names - your struggles, your doubts, and your aspirations - into the Mass on the “breastplate” of my own heart.

If a Rector is not a man of prayer, he is merely a building manager. As St. John Vianney once said, “The priest is not a priest for himself… he is for you.” In Rev 3:16, the Lord warns against being “lukewarm.” If I am lukewarm, the “ambient temperature” of this house grows cold. If I am prayer-less, I rob you of the “atmosphere” of grace you need to breathe and grow.

Like Moses, who ‘stood in the breach” to turn away God’s wrath (Psalm 106:23), a Rector must be willing to absorb the “plagues” of our time - the stress of administration and the weight of difficult decisions - so that you can discern your vocation in a “green pasture” of peace (Psalm 23).

We must never forget that the word “Seminary” comes from the word for “Seedbed,” but the process of growth is often a “dying to self” (John 12:24). As Gal 4:19 says: “My children, for whom I am, again in labour until Christ be formed in you.” This office is not a throne of honor; it is a labour room of sacrifice. Just as a mother suffers to bring new life into the world, the Rector and the formation faculty “labour” spiritually so that the “Alter Christus” (Another Christ) can be born in you. I ask for your prayers - not because I am the most holy among you, but because I am the most “exposed” on your behalf. As Heb 13:17 reminds us, we must keep watch over our souls as men who “must give an account.” May that account be a source of joy and not of grief!

The Carpenter’s Tools (Mark 6:1-6)

In the Gospel, the people of Nazareth suffer from a spiritual blindness. They look at Jesus and see only the artisan, the labourer. They were “scandalized” by Him (Mk 6:3) because they could not reconcile the “sawdust and sweat” of His humanity with the “wisdom and mighty deeds” of His Divinity.

There is a “Nazareth Danger” in every house of formation. You see me when I am weary; you hear me repeat the same warnings in conferences; you feel the “nuts and bolts” of the Timetable, the mandatory bells, and the reports/evaluations. It is tempting to become cynical - to see these things as mere “human carpentry,” a clutter of rules and ecclesiastical bureaucracy.

Look at the blueprints for the Tabernacle in Ex 25. God did not ask for celestial materials; He commanded the use of acacia wood and goat hair. Acacia is a common, thorny wood of the desert. Yet, when planed, sanded, and overlaid with gold, it became the Ark of the Covenant - the dwelling place of God’s Glory.

The “carpentry” of seminary life - the early morning rising, the hours of study, the silence that feels heavy, and even a difficult formation review - is the sanding and cutting necessary to transform the “acacia wood” of your humanity into a Tabernacle for the Real Presence. As Eph 2:22 says, you are being “built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.”

Jesus didn’t just spend thirty years building chairs and plows; He was preparing to build a Church. He took the “knots” of Peter’s impulsiveness, the “warped” ambitions of the Sons of Thunder, and the “cracks” in the character of the Twelve. Through three years of sanding their pride and shaping their hearts, He made them fit for the Kingdom.

Jesus uses the tools of this house in the same way. The Rule of Life is His lathe; the Faculty is His chisel; and your brother seminarians are the sandpaper - the friction that smooths your rough edges. As Heb 12:11 reminds us: “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

Do not let my human flaws or the “familiarity” of our daily routine blind you to the Master Carpenter. I am merely an apprentice holding the tools. Trust the Master’s Hand, for He knows exactly how much pressure to apply to make you a “vessel for noble purposes” (2 Tim 2:21).

Conclusion

St. Augustine famously said: “For you I am a Bishop, with you I am a Christian.” Today, standing in this house of formation, I say to you: For you I am a Rector, with you I am a disciple. I am deeply indebted to you. In Rom 1:12, St. Paul speaks of the beauty of being “mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.” There are days when the weight of administration and the "census" of daily life feel heavy. But when I see you kneeling in the chapel in quiet prayer, or when I see you serving the poor with joy, or when you do your service in the villages, you become a grace to me. You protect me from the “spiritual dryness” that can sometimes haunt the priesthood. You remind me of my own “First Love” (Rev 2:4).

Let us pray today that I may be a shepherd like those described in Jer 3:15: “Shepherds after my own heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding.” And may you be like the “Good Soil” in Mt 13, so that the seed of your vocation may one day feed a hungry world at the Altar of God. Amen.