The Gospel changes everything. No surprises here, but it is something that the New Testament writers are often at pains to emphasize. We see this in particular in St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come. Whoever is in Christ is a new creation. What of the old creation? What of creation considered according to the flesh? What does the flesh do? It corrupts. It decays. It is a creation always in the process of fading away and returning to the dust from which it was taken.
Moreover, the flesh lives for itself. It seeks to sustain itself and grow itself. However, Christ died for us all so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. We who live in Christ, who are new creations, are now to live for Christ rather than merely for ourselves. And it is not so that we lose ourselves, but rather that in Christ, we truly find ourselves. We get both Jesus and the perfected version of ourselves in the bargain. If we’re living no longer for ourselves, though, that means there is a real way in which our life is for others. God is first, certainly, but those around us have claim on our lives as well.
This is brought home to me in an acute way as I wrap up my time here in St. Michael. The call to live for Christ requires many things of us, including, in some cases, moving on from what is familiar to some place that is less so, some place which is not (yet, at least) home. And there is a certain death in it. I’ve been immensely blessed in my time here, and it truly has become something of a home for me. Yet, the vineyard is large, and I am needed elsewhere. The old things have passed away. It is the case for each and every one of us: In order to become a new creation and live in Christ rather than in the flesh, something will be demanded of us – our comforts, our plans, our desires, and even our hearts. I leave a piece of my heart here in St. Michael; a first assignment is (at least ideally) a truly special and important place for a priest. I know that is the case with me.
All that being said, new life abounds. The Church still carries on her mission, and St. Michael will still play is role in that mission. My successor, Father Rasset, will no doubt help as he steps in so that you all might also carry out your particular roles in the life of the church – parents, friends, disciples, evangelists, and more. So let us rejoice in this. Behold, new things have come.