This past week, three events have come together to “excite”
my discernment journey. They include
providing a catechetical instruction to our parish Extraordinary Ministers of
Holy Communion on the Eucharistic Life, the ordination of four men as the newest
priests in the Diocese of Trenton, and I went to mass with my son.
Speaking with fellow members of my home parish about
the Eucharist serves as a reminder of the remarkable sacrament we share; Jesus,
still incarnate in the world, present as Body and Blood, soul and divinity in
the consecrated bread and wine. As I remind others about what this means, if
serves to reinforce to me the emotional excitement that comes from sharing
Jesus Christ with others as we celebrate the Eucharist together; I reminded
those who are serving in this wonderful ministry that they should be awestruck
every time they are invited to place Our Lord in the hands or on the tongue, or
to carry Jesus to those who are in hospitals or homebound. Speaking about this
with others only served to reinforce for me that while so many activities or
parts of our busy daily lives may be taken for granted, the presence of Jesus in
the Eucharist should never be routine; His presence truly is the source and
summit of our faith lives, and I hope never taken for granted.
This past Saturday, four men were ordained by Bishop
O’Connell as the newest priests in the Diocese of Trenton. Beyond the
remarkable liturgical ritual of the day, I found myself reflecting on the fact
that I have many priests – including these new men – who in various ways serve
as models of this vocation I am pursuing, and who have and continue to provide
counsel to me in my journey. Some, like my pastor, have only known me as a
permanent deacon. Others, like the newly ordained Father Garry Koch was part of
those who helped me on my last discernment journey, as one of the faculty in
our Diocesan formation program for the permanent diaconate. Others, such as my cousin and brother, have known
me for my entire life, and their discernment to the Franciscan and diocesan priesthood
were conversations I shared fifteen or thirty years ago – conversations which
occasionally come back to my mind in vivid detail. I am indeed fortunate and
blessed to have so many good, holy, and different men whose lives and
conversations help me in my journey, and whose continued counsel and friendship
are essential for the years ahead. The different places at which they have
entered my life leads to different questions and challenges they raise for me,
and through that diversity they ask questions that help me respond
to God’s call. As one who is weeks away from becoming a seminarian, I also
understood that attending an ordination for the priesthood is an entirely
different experience than for most; as seminarians, we cannot help but wonder
about when that ordination day may be ours.
We not only feel joy for the men ordained this day, but both profound
excitement and trepidation about our own readiness and worthiness for that step
ahead. Discernment is a daily event, but ordination days during this journey
are particularly powerful moments, and not to be taken for granted.
Finally, on Sunday I went to mass with my son, who
had just returned home from working 300 miles away for the past year. For many, that “going to mass with my
son/daughter” would be an innocuous phrase.
For me, however, as a deacon, it is anything but; besides the fact that recently,
most of the time my sons are either away at school or work, but also that most
weekends I am up on the altar as a deacon, not beside them in the pew. Being
together, responding to points made in the homily, noticing others in the pews
around us, and sharing the sign of peace are no longer routine, but special and
important moments. They are also moments that will become increasingly rare in
the years ahead. For me, they are also
the conversations between a father and sons about the priesthood. For many
parents, that conversation is about the son’s discernment, while for me it is
seeking the advice and questions of my sons about their father’s journey. They
are conversations never to be taken for granted.
Soon-to-be seminarian, deacon, father...is it not a blessing that God allows us such identities? Here is an ancient English text that I often turn to for hope and comfort:
ReplyDeleteNot what you are,
Nor what you have been,
But what you want to be
Is what god sees with merciful eyes.
Cloud of Unknowing, Ch. 75.
Thanks, as always, for the inspiration.
Larry