By Mgr John Devine OBE

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This year I was not responsible for leading any Christmas celebrations. In retirement I’ve experienced Christmas just for me; no longer performing the role I’ve been playing as a priest for more than half a century.

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Pope Francis said the most important day of his life was not the day he became Pope, nor when he was ordained a priest. It was the day he was baptised. Francis railed against clericalism; the assumption that priests are answerable to nobody but have power over other people’s lives.

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In the seminary we took for granted that, when Jesus called the disciples, He was calling them to be priests. They left their boats behind, for a higher calling. I recently spoke with a Catholic lady whose two brothers went to the seminary. When home on holiday they ate in the dining room while their sisters ate in the kitchen. As priests, we can be blind to our growing sense of entitlement and control. It manifests itself in many ways and isn’t helped by an obsession with distinctive forms of dress, both on and off the altar.

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In my years in South America, the brutal realities of poverty and death were unavoidable. My helplessness in the face of that reality hit me day after day. It shattered any illusion that I was in charge, or that being a priest privileged me with the power to change things, to know better and to sort other people out. South America cut me down to size. Yet I marvelled every day at the resilience of people who had nothing except the clothes they stood up in yet had a faith and vitality that put me to shame.

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On my return from South America, after a decade failing to save the collapsing seminary building at Upholland – itself a lesson in humility – I was employed by the Christian denominations in the northwest to work with civil authorities on the role of the Churches in wider society. I had a line manager whom I met every week. I presented written reports to my management committee four times a year. When I returned to being a parish priest, I could once again do as I pleased, accountable to no-one.

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Like most things in life, you’re only aware of what you have when you no longer have it. At Christmas, Jesus comes to us as a powerless child, born into poverty in a country under military occupation. In retirement I’m learning the lesson of living without power. It’s refreshing to be rid of it.