"I don't want it to have been a waste of time."
"I'm not sure if it will pay off."
"How can I be positive God is calling me?"

These are probably the top three responses I hear in discussions about discernment. They are the same responses when the discussion is about discerning a primary vocation, deciding to start a new venture, or listening for another kind of calling.
The underlying fear is the same: no one wants to start down the wrong road.

But what makes something "the wrong road" when you are choosing between good things?
I think most of us assume that any path that does not end in our eventual calling was a wrong road.
What if God might be calling you to walk one path for a while, but not arrive at your anticipated destination? What if it's not about finding out God's big picture plan, but more of a practice in letting him walk with you on every path?

This changes things. Now it's less about being sure and confident of God's will, and more being willing to come along on the adventure.

There have been two big roads in my life that could have been considered a wrong road, but have been incredibly important in shaping me, my faith life, and my vocation: my time spent discerning a religious vocation, and my miscarriages.

I'll cover the miscarriages in part 2, but I wanted to talk about discerning the religious life in particular today.

I wrote some thoughts on vocations as a wannabe nun called to marriage a while back. A question I got a lot from sharing that story was: Do you regret spending all that time discerning when the answer was no?
No, I think it was still worth doing, and I encourage everyone to discern this particular path if at all possible. I didn't get too far along in the process of actually entering an order, but I have friends who became postulates, took temporary vows, and spent years pursuing the religious life vocation only to discern out. Did they take a "wrong road"?

Religious discernment is not just a single person talking God's ear off until they get a yes or no answer. It involves a deep awareness of self, an honest evaluation of strengths and weaknesses, and relationships with a whole host of people. I think everyone can agree all of those things are well worth doing in order to grow into a mature adult faith. Doing so in a religious community brings with it a fundamentally changed relationship between the discerning person and Jesus and his Church.

When a woman discerns a religious vocation, she is discerning marriage with Jesus. That is, at a basic level, what is happening.
Want to start seeing God as a person and not just a far off in the sky being? Try dating him.
To discern out means reaching a point where Jesus lets you know that you are not meant to become a Bride of Christ. It's awful and wonderful.

Those of us who discerned out will forever have a relationship with Jesus that has a different kind of intimacy. I have personally found a connection with others who discerned the religious life. There is a grace that comes from the act of putting the question to God "Is this what you want of me?"

Regrets don't come from the good you were open to pursuing, they come from failing to ask the question out of fear of the what ifs.

Check back next week for Part 2 and what this all means when applied to being open to life and losing your baby. Especially multiple times.

Thoughts on Vocations from a Wannabe Nun Called to Marriage

This past week was Vocations Awareness Week. I hope you enjoyed hearing the stories of a few of the men who have answered the call to the religious life.

In a few of Jacob's posts, from the For the Love of the Church series, he touches on an often misunderstood aspect of vocation discernment - that feeling attracted to a vocation does not necessarily mean it is your vocation. Nor does choosing one vocation mean that you are not attracted to another or would have not have been fabulous in it.

While Jacob will soon become a priest after having been very attached and attracted to the idea of being a husband and physical father, I followed the opposite route. I was very attracted to the idea of religious life and living in community, but am called to be a wife and mother.
As a teen, I went on vocations retreats, come and see events, and stayed in contact with an order of sisters with a motherhouse nearby. I stayed with them a few summers, and I absolutely loved living in convent.

The life of a sister was very appealing to me: the predictability, the shared commitment to making life in community work with women from very different backgrounds, learning to say the Divine Office and chant, and the dedicated times to work, study, prayer, and play. The instant closeness to the other girls in discernment and the support of the older sisters was very comforting.

But it wasn't for me.

I think I knew it for a long time before I accepted it's truth - I was not called to the religious life.
I loved the religious life.
I would have been happy as a religious.
I still see the religious life as very beautiful and needed in this world, but it was not the way I was supposed to serve my purpose in this life.

The realization came during adoration. A fitting time. Adoration is when we are simply to sit and be with the physical presence of Jesus. It's harder than it sounds. You can read more about that experience here, but from that moment on I had to accept what God was telling me and it was not to become a sister.

Essentially, Jesus broke up with me. Gently, but yeah that happened.
I was ready to jump into this vocation and embrace the whole shebang, and Jesus had to say, "Thanks but no thanks. Your job lies elsewhere."

I knew it was true. I knew he was right. But I wasn't happy about any of it.
Ya know, like a normal break up.
Except in this break up your ex is literally perfect and you kind of have to continue to have a relationship with him for the rest of your life. It's tricky like that.

There is a real grieving process to go through after letting go of a hope, a dream, or a relationship. The discernment process, just like a relationship, is never just you two in isolation - it is full of advisors, supporters, detractors, and friends you made along the way. Coming to a decision in discernment means your relationship with those people, and with the object of your discernment, will never be the same.

Our true vocations may not be the ones we would have first picked out for ourselves, and might even be the opposite of our natural inclinations. In my current season of life, I am on my own to create any structure I want to have, to motivate myself to find purpose without the guidance of a community charism, and I have to do it with, what feels like constant, discernment. I feel like my current vocation is the harder option for me, and because of that is probably the better "halo-polishing" option too.

The men I know who are or will be priests, they would have been great husbands and fathers. I have no doubt about it. But it is because they would make great fathers, they will be just that much better at becoming Fathers. I hope that my experience seeking a religious vocation has helped me be a better wife and mother too.

****************

Here's My Sunday Best!

Dress: Kohls
Shoes: Payless
Sweater: Target
Veil: Veils By Lily

Meet RJ, S.J.! - {Vocations Awareness Week}

This week is National Vocations Awareness Week. I'm celebrating by sharing the stories of some of my friends who have answered the call to the religious life. Here's an overview about the week.

Today we're meeting R.J - newly ordained deacon, midwest guy, who also happens to be my swing dance partner!

The first thing to know about me is that I didn’t grow up Catholic. That’s right, I’m a convert. I grew up in a “culturally Christian” home, that is to say, that my family celebrated Christmas and Easter and I would say I was raised with very Christian values. While my family was never opposed to religion, going to church was never an essential component in my family’s life. Yet, I was always very fascinated with religion and God.

In third grade I decided I wanted to go with some friends to their church and see what it was all about. Mainly, I wanted to know where they were going every Sunday for several hours on end and why we couldn’t hang out. They assured me that they were going to something called “Sunday School” and that it was fun and I should come with them to check it out. That’s where I learned about accepting Jesus into my heart. There are a lot of details that have faded due to the passing of time, but what remains is this strong sense of peace I felt when I started to learned about Jesus and how powerful it felt to belong to something special I could take with me everywhere I went. So, with the desire to accept Jesus in my heart I was baptized in third grade.

I don’t intend to highlight every single event in my spiritual journey in this brief essay, but I use this event to highlight what St. Ignatius of Loyola would call a touchstone moment. These moments serve as anchors in our spiritual journey. They are moments that we often only recognize with prayer and reflection, and they are those moments where we are absolutely certain that God’s grace is operational. For me, this moment is not only important because it would serve as the moment of my Baptism, that would take more reflection at a later age, but because it serves as such a powerful stance to take in the world—to let Jesus into my heart and be open to the grace that follows. I’ve never regretted the decision of my third grade self, even if I didn’t completely understand what that would mean for the rest of my life.

 Here I am relaxing at the crisis center where I worked as a social worker.

A second touchstone moment comes with completing the RCIA process and being received into the Catholic Church. By the time I was a senior in high school, having spiritual conversations with my friends was a regular fixture of my life. I was and am blessed to have friends from a wide array of Christian denominations. We didn’t always agree, but we did love each other. I can clearly remember conversations ranging from some aspect of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians to discussions on the Rapture to questions concerning why Jesus’ words are recorded differently in the four Gospels. By the end of my junior year of high school, through these conversations and prayer, I felt called to be in full communion with the Catholic Church. This highlights a second essential element of discernment, spiritual conversation. Prayer is never a solitary experience; after all, prayer is our way of communicating with a Triune God who loves us unconditionally. Moreover, to assume that I could have made sense of my world and prayer at that time all by myself is humorous at its best and dangerous at its worst.

It would also be about this time that I would discover two of my greatest passions: Swing Dancing and Social Work. Swing dancing all started my sophomore year when my high school put on a school musical, which was essentially a medley of musical numbers from all across the spectrum. I was cast in a swing dance number featuring Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood.” It was an East Coast Swing routine with aerial stunts and I was hooked. It didn’t stay there, of course. By the time I was in college I was going to Swing Dancing Clubs twice a week and teaching on the side to have some spare cash. I loved dancing, but I loved sharing that passion with others almost as much, maybe more.

Here I am teaching Swing Dance with the young adults last February. Another one is coming up next week!

My passion for Social Work started before my freshman year of college when I saw a poster at a department fair at summer orientation that described “You’ll need a Social Worker when…” The poster started with those words in large bold letters and then proceeds to describe a wide array of situation where people find themselves in need of a social worker. I knew that I had A LOT of help and support getting to college and it was at that moment that I knew I had to do that; I had to be a social worker.  I don’t remember if I said out loud at that moment that I was going to be a social worker, but it didn’t take long for me to put that into action. Just before it was time for me to register for my second semester of college I was in the office of the School of Social Work and by the time I left I had my college road map all laid out before me. I share these two anecdotes to bring up a third important element in discernment: desire. These seemingly unrelated stories actually stem from the same desire, the passion for being with and serving others.

 It was a similar sign to this one. I was taken by how often social workers could be involved in people's' lives.

So how does becoming a Jesuit priest fit into all of this? Simple, these three elements: recognizing and reflecting on our touchstone events, having spiritual conversations with others (including prayer), and recognizing our desires, are not static one-time events. They are dynamic events and moments that continue to shape our lives the more reflect upon them and pray with them. A year after graduating college I began to feel like there was some more to what I had been called to do with my life. God was calling me to something deeper. I loved what I was doing very much. I was a social worker for a youth shelter working with an amazing team of people. I had a car, a roof over my head, a nice TV/Stereo system, and an Xbox. In an effort to understand this feeling I turned to those things that had helped me in the past, which ultimately led me to asking, “God, what do YOU want me to do?” I reflected on where I was certain of God’s grace acting in my life, both at that time and in my past. I prayed and had conversations with friends and family about what I thought God was placing in my heart and I listened to their responses. I got better at trying to name what desires I felt and how God might best call me to answer those desires.

 In addition to Swing Dancing and Social Work, I loved coaching high school football. Here's one such coaching moment from my phase of formation just before theology studies.

Then, one night, after prayer I sat up in bed and it was as though the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I realized that God had been putting the answer in front of me for some time in some of the people that I had been taking to about these desires. God was calling me to be a priest. But being only a few years a Catholic I had no idea where to start, so I did what I thought was the most sensible thing at the time. I Googled the word ‘vocation’ and went through the results emailing the vocation directors one by one. Fortunately for me, the ones who would contact me first (the Archdiocese of St. Paul & Minneapolis and the Jesuits) decided I should go on a discernment retreat that summer. Independent of each other, they sent me on the same retreat.

What do novices in Minnesota do when it snows? They go sledding, of course.

This would start me on the path of discerning the Society of Jesus as the path toward serving the world. This journey has certainly had its share of bumps, moments of confusion, wrong turns, and uncertainty. But they’ve been made smooth through the process of reflecting on my touchstone moments, recalling those moments where God’s grace and my relationship with Jesus were at their closest. I have navigated the churning waters by being in conversation with good friends and family, with priests and religious, and with God. I would not be where I am today without any one of those essential people. I have found hope and consolation in naming my desires and reflecting upon them with God and those listed above.

On October 22, 2016 I was ordained to the transitional diaconate. With God’s grace, I’ll be ordained to the priesthood as a member of the Society of Jesus in June of 2017. I still swing dance, and love it. I am incredibly grateful for my social work training and those I’ve been privileged to encounter along the way. I am indebted to my friends and family for their love and support. And I’m amazed by our wonderful God who has always been with me, as my third grade self proclaimed after baptism, “I have Jesus in my heart.”

Here I am receiving the Book of the Gospels as part of the ordination rite. The bishop tells us to: Believe what you read. Teach what you believe. Practice what you teach.

Hope you've enjoyed this series! Make sure to check out David and Bro. Victor's stories, and Jacob's For the Love of the Church series:

Day One: How We Met

Day Two: I Noticed Her Back (the Church that is!)

Day Three: Her Crazy Proposal

Day Four: Both/And

Day Five: A Short Honeymoon

Day Six: Someone(s) to Lean On

Day Seven: No Greater Love

Meet Bro. Victor Taglianetti - {Vocations Awareness Week}

This week is National Vocations Awareness Week. I'm celebrating by sharing the stories of some of my friends who have answered the call to the religious life. Here's an overview about the week.

Today we're meeting Bro. Victor! Capuchin, rapper, and all around cool guy.

I was born to two Catholic parents who, thanks be to God, are still married to this day. They raised me in the Catholic faith and educated me in the faith as best they could, by teaching me at home and furthering that education by enrolling me in Catechism and CCD classes at our local parish in Southern California. Thanks to their efforts, as well as my Godmother’s and of course by the grace of God, I felt that I had a great love for God at a young age.

However, as I got older, things began to change as a series of events slowly depleted my love for my Creator and ultimately shaped me into an atheist by the time I was 1 8. Being a victim of bullying in middle school, followed many self-perceived “failures” on my end, coupled with conflicts with my peers in high school and adopting a more “scientific method mindset,” were just some of the problems that I encountered in my youth. To briefly expound further on a few of these issues, I always have had the tendency to be a perfectionist. Starting as a young child, I would strive to be the best in everything that I participated in. In high school, there were many instances in which I got a taste of the real world, and didn’t meet the expectations that I set for myself. I was used to being at the top in academics and sports throughout my life, and I wasn’t meeting those standards anymore. At that time, I had the incorrect idea that “one gets what he/she deserves.” In my mind at the time, I felt that I was a good student, a good athlete, a good, son, and a good person, and I was doing everything that I was supposed to be doing. It didn’t make sense that I was “failing” and that I wasn’t getting anything that I wanted. I saw other kids, who seemed very happy with their life. They had the popularity, a plethora of friends, and the girl on their shoulder, yet in my mind, they were bad students, bad people, etc. I thought to myself, “Why are they getting what they want, and why aren’t I?”

While this was happening I became very influenced by what I was learning through various facets. I became infatuated with science, especially with the scientific method. One important aspect of the method is that in order to prove something, you must have evidence. You must be able to measure it or observe it in some way. Because I figured that one could not scientifically observe or measure God, God could not exist. These events as well as others ultimately led to me losing my faith in God, and becoming an atheist in the summer after graduating from High School.

When I entered college, I decided that I was going to change, so that I could get those things that I wanted. The change didn’t happen immediately, but rather over a progression of years, but I literally became a new person. I stopped going to Mass, began to hang out with a different crowd, and immersed myself in the party scene in college. I began to live a life full of sin and debauchery, as I “messed” around with women, and abused alcohol and drugs. At the end of my 4 years in college, I felt surprisingly very sad with my life. I couldn’t understand how I could be sad with everything I thought would make me happy. I had a degree, a car, friends and popularity, etc. Despite having all these things, I was empty inside and was longing for something else. That something else was God, but I did not know it at the time.

A few months later, I was back at home with my parents and still very sad with my life. It was Christmas Eve, and my family wanted to attend Midnight Mass. For some reason, which I can only explain as a pull from the Holy Spirit, I decided to join them. During Mass, the priest, Fr. Pat Kirsch, was giving a homily and he showed the congregation a quilt that some of the parishioners had made for him out of pieces of clothing that his deceased mother had once worn. I remembered that he would always talk fondly about his mom, and I just saw how beautiful of a gift it was for him. The expression of love from the parishioners was amazing, and I wanted to come back to Church to be a part of a loving community like that, something that I didn’t’ experience with the type of people I surrounded myself with. But I knew that I couldn’t come back because I couldn’t get around the fact that I didn’t believe that God existed.

Four days later on December 29th, 2010, I was at my friend’s apartment watching a movie. Out of nowhere, my entire body became paralyzed, and I heard a voice of great power and thunder and it said, “Why have you abandoned Me?!?!” It was very strange, for even before the words were spoken, I knew that it was the voice of God, for in scripture it says, “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow me,” (Jn 1 0:27) and “I am the good shepherd, and I know My own and My own know Me.” (Jn 1 0:1 4). After that experience, I began to realize that God was always there for me, that He had never abandoned me, but it was I who had abandoned Him. I realized God’s infinite love and mercy, that He would do anything to bring one of His lost sheep back to Him. I had done absolutely nothing to earn this gift from God. Rather, it was His own free gift to me. I knew that God would do the same for any one of His children, not necessarily in the same way, but that He is continually searching for us.

After that experience, I came back to church, began to pray frequently, read the Bible often, and eventually received the Sacrament of Reconciliation. After some more time and more experiences, I wanted to give my life to God for what He had done for me. I felt His call very strongly and began discerning a vocation to the priesthood and religious life. After months of discerning, I applied with the Capuchins of the Western America Province, and was accepted in May of 2011. My formation in this order has been a great blessing, and I hope to continue to share God’s mercy with those I encounter in the future.

Check back Friday for RJ's story!

Library Haul - Vocations Edition!

Linking up with Sweeping Up Joy for Library Haul!

I thought it would be fun to get some kids books relating to vocations this week (since it is National Vocations Awareness Week and all.) But I had somehow never noticed just how few books relating to Christianity are at my library.

So I widened it to saint stories.

Which widened to Christian holiday stories.

Which lead to grab-everything-remotely-and-I-mean-REMOTELY- related-to-the-Church!

Here's what I found.

I missed one book when taking this shot. But you get the sad idea...

With my super generous criteria I found a grand total of.....seven.  

This wouldn't be so bad if there were not a full 2.5 shelves of books about Judaism, and 1.5 for Islam (and we're only talking the children's section here).  I'm going to assume this was not an oversight, but the result of those communities being better about requesting book purchases. 

So I'm taking all the suggestions! Leave your favorite picture books for Catholic kids suggestions in the comments!

Here's what we have right now:

These are both very wordy, but have the benefit of beautiful illustrations.

This is one of the few technically Christmas books that made my cut. They needed to focus primarily on the religious person, their story of coming to that life, and maybe something cool about them.

St. Francis loved the image of the Holy Family so much that he invented the Nativity scene. We'll probably get this one again when setting up our Fisher-Price Little People Nativity Set during Advent.

Two different books about Pope Francis!

No other popes, but I'll take it!

Because the National Geographic kids book is a level one reader, it includes a bunch of phonetic spellings that John found hilarious. Namely: priest (preest), seminary (SEM-uh-ner-ee), and Jesuits (JEH-zoo-its). They found a lot of good photos of young Jorge Bergoglio too.

These turned out to be some of the best of the lot from a vocations standpoint.

This is one that barely made the cut, but came home because it was a cool concept and had nice illustrations. It's each of the Beatitudes, with multiple little pictures on each page demonstrating how you might show that Beatitude. It has very few words, but lots of opportunity for exploratory discussion with little kids. Even Therese was into this one.

For a vocations specific talk, you might focus on different orders or works that reflect that particular Beatitude.

This book is pretty hardcore Catholic, and I was honestly surprised (pleasantly) to find it at my library branch. I do love nice surprises!

While it is long and wordy, it depicts the founder of so much of the monastic tradition in a very human light. He had a sister he deeply loved. He didn't always relate to people in the most loving way- spending years learning to be "more kind than strict". I love St. Scholastica's line, "Isn't it funny, Brother, that you had to travel all over Italy to learn some of the things that I discovered by staying in one place!"

Help me out! What kids books do you love, that I can request for my library, to help expand the selection beyond these and CHRISTMAS! (Because that's what we're working with right now....)

Meet David, S.J. - {Vocations Awareness Week}

This week is National Vocations Awareness Week. I'm celebrating by sharing the stories of some of my friends who have answered the call to the religious life. Here's an overview about the week.

First up is David, S.J. whom we refer to as "David the Jesuit" around the parish. He's currently our parish's deacon, Faith Formation chair for the Young Adults, and runs the RCIA program. Last year he ran the Drama program at Immaculate Conception Academy in San Francisco.
He wins the award as youngest-entering Jesuit I've ever met (entered at 19).
Let's hear him!

Growing up, my family was a fairly typical Catholic family-- we went to Mass every Sunday, my sisters and I went to CCD every week, and my mom was involved in the church choir. For high school, I went to the Jesuit high school in Houston. Up until my junior year of high school, I was strongly considering a career as a Naval officer, and thought about having a large family. I have a lot of family members who are in the Navy, and a strong desire to join them in that work. Now and again during my junior and senior year of high school, I remember having thoughts of being a priest, but I would usually quickly swat them out of my head, either by reminding myself that I wanted to join the Navy and have a family, or by telling myself that only really holy people joined the priesthood.

The same respect and admiration I felt towards the Naval officers in my family, I was slowly but surely starting to feel for the priests and brothers who worked at my high school. One moment in particular that stood out for me was how one of the priests was supposed to come and join us for part of our senior year retreat, but was called away to be with a student's mom in the hospital and give her Anointing of the Sick. That ability to just drop everything to be with someone and administer the sacraments to a person in a time of great need stayed with me long after the retreat had ended.

Around March of my senior year, I remember talking with a friend of mine from my sister school (Strake Jesuit in Houston is all-boys, so we collaborated with the all-girls Dominican high school for lot of things) who I did theatre with, and telling her about how these thoughts kept on popping into my head, but I was still pretty set on getting a commission in the Navy. She then asked me point blank why I didn't consider becoming a priest, and I had no answer, so I decided I would at least look into it. I was generally attracted to community life, so almost from the start I decided that I wanted to join an order rather than the diocese. I had recently discovered Thomas Aquinas, so I looked into the Dominicans. I had heard that the Passionists did a fair bit as military chaplains, so I looked at them, but nothing was really sticking. Deciding that I had done due diligence, I decided to go to the Jesuit website and learn more about the Jesuit vocation. I remember as I was reading about the typical ministries of Jesuits, when I came across "teaching catechism to boys," there was sort of a "eureka" moment. What I wanted to do as a priest and what the Jesuits did just seemed to click, and I realized "aha! Yes! That's what I want to be!" The intellectual rigor of Jesuit formation really appealed to me, and the opportunity to share the fruits of that study in education was likewise exciting.

I'm in the back row, 2nd from the right. The woman who suggested I should think about becoming a priest is the young woman with the glasses in the front row, third from the right.

When I got in touch with the vocations director for the Jesuits, it was too late in the year for me to start an application process, so he suggested I go to Texas A&M as I had been planning and think about applying during my freshman year. I still remember praying about what I should do in a small Catholic church on an island in coastal Georgia where my mom's family gathered every year, thinking about when I should apply--if I should try to enter the Jesuits after my freshman year, wait and finish college, or go through the Corps of Cadets at A&M, get a commission, and get the Navy bug out of my system. Weighing my options, as I thought about entering the novitiate after my freshman year, I began to ask what the worst thing could be if I entered, found it wasn't for me, and left--I would have a great spiritual foundation, met some people, and had some really good experiences. Suddenly, I felt a great peace about applying to the Jesuits-- though I reminded God that if it wasn't what He wanted, a rejection letter would be pretty helpful.

 My arrival at the novitiate on 14 Aug 05. The man in the goatee is Fr. Billy Huete, S.J., my novice master.

My year at A&M is something I'll always cherish, and there are people I am still very close to from my time there. But as good as it was, I knew that the Jesuits were where I needed to be. When I entered in 2005, there were eleven of us in my class, and four of us were teenagers--two guys who had entered right out of high school (the same Jesuit high school I went to, in fact), and one other who had entered after a year of college. We ranged in age from 18 to mid-40s (a diocesan priest who wanted to explore whether he had a vocation as a Jesuit priest), but our novice master, Fr. Huete, emphasized that no matter where we came from, we were all novices and all there to learn about what it meant to be a Jesuit. The youngest and oldest still needed to do the same chores, and still needed to learn how to pray and live as Jesuits. Everyone's prior experience was respected and utilized, we were all still very much in the same boat, and I never once felt isolated from any of my fellow novices, no matter what their age.

2007, the moment I took vows. For the Jesuits, the provincial places the Eucharist before the vovendus, and he pronounces his vows directly to the Lord.

My novice master entered right out of high school, and as he put it, "there's a grace to growing up as a Jesuit"--that is, to entering the Jesuits before you've completely entered adulthood. There's less to unlearn, as so everything has a great chance to sink in and really become second nature. Going through the early stages of Jesuit formation and figuring out where God was calling me while my identity was still taking shape meant that the Jesuits were really able to shape my identity and who I am in a significant way.

I never stopped being "David," but I did very much become "David, S.J." If I had entered a little later, that Jesuit part of me would have had to compete with the other parts, and grab hold in a different way. St. Paul says that Jesus came "in the fullness of time" (Gal. 4:4)--the Incarnation wasn't just a matter of Jesus coming down, but coming down at a specific time and place. God didn't just call me to enter the Jesuits by telling me "enter any old time you please," but called me to enter at a specific time, and made it clear that this was the time I should apply to enter. That experience of peace I had about entering after my freshman year simply wasn't there when I considered the other two possibilities. Who we are and the stories we tell about our lives are constantly in formation--I'm forever grateful that I was able to enter the Jesuits as young as I was, and to begin to make my Jesuit vocation part of my story and identity "in the fullness of time"--just as soon as I knew when I was called to be a Jesuit.

The moment of Ordination to the transitional diaconate last month.

Check back on Wednesday for Br. Victor's story!

Vocations Awareness Week!

Linking up with This Ain't the Lyceum for 7 Quick Takes!

1

What is Vocations Awareness Week?

From the USCCB: "National Vocation Awareness Week (NVAW) is an annual week-long celebration of the Catholic Church in the United States dedicated to promote vocations to the priesthood, diaconate and consecrated life through prayer and education, and to renew our prayers and support for those who are considering one of these particular vocations."

I am choosing to celebrate it this year by sharing the stories of a few of my friends who have answered this call to enter religious life.

Let's meet them!

2

David, S.J.

David hails from the Great State of Texas! David entered the Jesuit novitiate in 2005 after a year at Texas A&M. After teaching theology and theatre for three years at Jesuit High School in Tampa, FL, he was sent to the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley, CA in 2014 for Theology studies as part of the final preparation before being ordained to the priesthood. In October 2016, he was ordained to the diaconate.

Memorable experiences in religious life include: waking up to the ocean reclaiming his camp site on the beach at the World Youth Day in Rio de Janeiro, and watching Bono from the roof of one of Fordham's Jesuit residences.

3

Br. Victor

Br. Victor is from southern California. He was raised Catholic, became an atheist by the time he was 18, experienced a re-conversion after college and was accepted into the Capuchins of the Western America Province in 2011.
I first met Br. Victor when he was performing at Catholic Underground Bay Area with his band Capuchin Brothers Music. He raps!

4

RJ, S.J.

Born in St. Paul, Minnesota, R.J. graduated from the University of St. Thomas with a Bachelor of Social Work and was a social worker before joining the Society of Jesus in 2006. Since taking vows in 2008, he studied philosophy for three years at Loyola University Chicago and spent three years teaching, counseling, and coaching football at the University of Detroit Jesuit High School and Academy. R.J. will be exercising his diaconal ministry at Newman Hall- Holy Spirit Parish near the University of California campus through the end of this academic year. R.J. also regularly helps teach Swing Dancing and will be a co-instructor at a Swing Dance event at St. Mary Magdalen on November 19th at 7 PM.

Here he is teaching David how to move with grace.

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Jacob, S.J.

Jacob already did a week long series, For the Love of the Church, that I highly encourage you to read! He originally published it as a series of Facebook posts, but I loved the idea of telling a vocation story as a love story and I wanted to keep it in it's entirety. Check it out:

Day One: How We Met

Day Two: I Noticed Her Back (the Church that is!)

Day Three: Her Crazy Proposal

Day Four: Both/And

Day Five: A Short Honeymoon

Day Six: Someone(s) to Lean On

Day Seven: No Greater Love

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How do we encourage vocations with our own children?

I've got some thoughts on that.

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Vocations Prayer

The USCCB has 42 prayers for vocations on their website you can use for praying inspiration.

I personally like this Parent's Prayer for Vocations:

Gracious and loving God
you have blessed us with the privilege of becoming Parents.
We ask that you provide us with all that we need
in accepting this awesome responsibility.

We pray that we will be open to your spirit
who is our source of strength
as we witness to our children
your love for each of them and your desire for them
to be happy and to live a full life.

We ask your help
so we may guide and encourage our children
to believe that they each have a special calling
and to use their gifts and talents for others.

We pray, Heavenly Father,
that our children will discover
and respond enthusiastically to your desire for them
whether it be to the vocation of single, married,
ordained or consecrated life.

We offer this prayer in the name of Jesus
through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Day Seven: No Greater Love - {For the Love of the Church}

This week I'm running a series, For the Love of the Church, written by my friend Jacob Boddicker, SJ.

Jacob is a Jesuit scholastic originally from Iowa, and is currently studying at the Jesuit School of Theology in preparation for ordination. He has an academic background in archaeology, history, and philosophy, and his interests include music, science fiction/fantasy, and writing.

Make sure to check out: 

Day One: How We Met

Day Two: I Noticed Her Back (the Church that is!)

Day Three: Her Crazy Proposal

Day Four: Both/And

Day Five: A Short Honeymoon

Day Six: Someone(s) to Lean On

During the summer after my time at Marquette High, two experiences of prayer—one during my annual retreat and another while on the road with the Hearts on Fire Mission Band—made it clear to me that Jesus was wanting to work on my heart a bit regarding my love for His Bride.

While in Milwaukee I saw a beautiful, youthful, Church, and I worshiped in a parish that offered a sumptuous Mass; especially when it came to music. I was, in a way, spoiled. I wasn’t seeking it out, nor was I choosing it over any other parish or way of worship on any sort of principal, but it was what I found and what I came to cherish. I knew as much about California and the Church there as I knew about thermodynamics, but I did know I was going to miss the Church as I knew her there in Wisconsin.

My first experience of prayer, in brief, came through the aid of St. Gemma Galgani (for those who know me, this comes as no surprise). She helped me to recall that she, having given herself entirely to Christ, was His Bride, and so was the Church. If I could love St. Gemma and find her beautiful and inspiring, even in the moments of her life when she was devastated by illness and infirmity, then I must also love the Church, no matter how she is when I encounter her. I of course knew this, and I asked Gemma to always help me to do that. My second experience of prayer is deeply personal, but suffice it to say I knew Jesus was inviting me to share, in a way, in His own suffering, for love of the Church. I have always trusted Him, and of course I said yes.



The summer ended and I came to Milwaukee, and soon I realized the importance of those graces. Things are very different out here; the Bay Area is much more diverse in its cultures and beliefs, such that Christianity—much less Catholic Christianity—is not as dominant. It also strikes me, in many ways, as simply a more secular culture. There is a budding young adult effort here that I think, in time, will really take off, and I’ve met some wonderful young men and women who are working hard to build it up, but I found myself already missing the opportunities I had back in Milwaukee.

Church architecture out here is not, at least at your average parish, what it is in many places in Milwaukee! I did not realize how much I would miss the great dome of the basilica and the artwork all around; the stark walls and track lighting of our school chapel was very, very difficult to get used to. There was no choir as I was used to, no quiet church to arrive at early to pray the rosary while the choir warmed up; none of my friends were there to surround me as they arrived one-by-one to pray and then chat after Mass. There were no more Confirmation classes to teach, no more lessons to prepare for my high school students; I was a stranger again.

Gradually I realized how attached I had become to all these beautiful gifts, enough that I was unable to accept the more subtle but equally good gifts the Church was able to offer me here in Berkeley. When a priest would take a liberty in his style of celebration that I disagreed with or—worse—I knew was wrong, I found I had two options before me: I could get angry and let that set its claws in my heart and cloud out any possible good that Christ wanted to give me, or I could concern myself more with the fact that if there was, indeed, an offense against the truth, then I have an opportunity to be with Christ in that moment.

In other words, Jesus was trying to teach me to love the Church unconditionally: to love the Church as He loves her.

St. Isaac Jogues All Saints Day costume

I realized this past summer that I would be very upset with a man who tells his wife what to wear to please him, and to demand that she dress primarily for this purpose, if his love for her hinged on such outward, material things. How would I be any better than such a man if I, in my own heart, were to expect similar things of the Church? If I were to say, “Bride of Christ, I would love you more if you offered me a Mass more like this, or sang this kind of music, or had a congregation made up of this type of people, etc.” I was reminded on retreat that a priest ought to love the Bride of Christ because she is the Bride of Christ. Period. My beloved Church is taking her time during these years of theology study to remind me that I’m not the one she seeks to please! Rather, I ought to love her and count myself more honored—in this regard—than even the highest angels because I have been asked by Jesus to be a Joseph to His Bride; no angel has ever been asked such a thing, and the Church is absolutely worthy of my complete, unconditional love because it is the kind of love CHRIST has for her.

In a sense, I suppose, the Church has been seeing if I really mean “in sickness and in health,” even unto death, so that when I am lying face down on her concrete floor at my deacon ordination in October, I am sufficiently dead to my own preconceptions, preferences, and attachments that I’m not in the way of the One who wishes to love her through me, as His minster. “Jacob, do you love me,” she asks, “even if I am wearing sweat pants and Crocs? Do you love me even when I carelessly prepare the Lamb’s Supper? Will you love me even if I seem lazy, or too worldly, or even if it seems like I disregard the Magisterium, or if you perceive me as deficient in any other way? Would you still love me? Would you still lay down your life for me?”

It is easier now to say “yes” since I am so close to ordination, but it was very hard my first year here. But she’s waited this long; a few months is nothing. I love her, no matter what, because she’s the Bride of Christ, and that is all I need to know. She has always taken me back; how could I ever turn my heart away from her? As I let go of my stone-set image of what I wanted her to look like, the Church was able to show me just how magnificent she really is. She’s an incredible fashionista, able to take even the simplest things and still show me her beauty and goodness. I’ve met wonderful people out here whom I’d never have met had I continued a desperate search for people like those I left in the Midwest. I now serve in a parish that is as vibrant and alive as a greenhouse full of blossoming flowers. The last two years have been challenging, but I can see—as can others, I’m sure—just how much I’ve grown and how Jesus and the Church have continually shaped my heart into the heart He desires and the Church really needs: a heart that can lay itself down for her sake, a heart that is able to die to itself for love of her.

She is, after all, the Bride of Christ, who died for her. If every priest is a Joseph, is a spouse of sorts to the Bride, then we have to follow His example, He who “loved the church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word, that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” (Ephesians 5:25-27)

And yesterday he DID say yes! I watched Jacob, along with other close friends, become ordained to the diaconate yesterday. I'm so immensely proud of all of them!

And here's My Sunday Best with David Paternostro, S.J. After his first two masses serving as deacon!

Day Six: Someone(s) to Lean On - {For the Love of the Church}

This week I'm running a series, For the Love of the Church, written by my friend Jacob Boddicker, SJ.

Jacob is a Jesuit scholastic originally from Iowa, and is currently studying at the Jesuit School of Theology in preparation for ordination. He has an academic background in archaeology, history, and philosophy, and his interests include music, science fiction/fantasy, and writing.

Make sure to check out: 

Day One: How We Met

Day Two: I Noticed Her Back (the Church that is!)

Day Three: Her Crazy Proposal

Day Four: Both/And

Day Five: A Short Honeymoon

Near the end of my time in St. Louis, while I was simultaneously soaring on Cloud Nine singing with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra chorus and freaking out over a final paper/exam every Jesuit takes at the end of Philosophy Studies, I also was awaiting word regarding my regency assignment.

Regency is generally a three-year period of apostolic work in which a scholastic lives and works with other Jesuits; this tends to occur in a high school setting but it is not necessarily so. I had interviewed at both Red Cloud Indian School on the Pineridge Reservation in South Dakota, as well as Xavier High in Cincinnati. I felt a very strong pull toward the former in my prayer, and though sure it was where God wanted me to go. Then the phone call came, and after asking how I was doing and such my formation assistant says, “Jacob, how would you feel if your assignment was…not at a high school?” “Well, I guess I didn’t think there were any other options. What are you thinking?

“We have been looking for someone to serve as the minister of the infirmary in Milwaukee, and we don’t have any men currently available. The provincial and I talked about it and we began wondering if a scholastic could serve in that capacity; your name came up in subsequent conversation. The men there still talk about you from your service during novitiate. Would you be open to this as a third possibility for your assignment?”

“Of course; I’ll go wherever you send me.”

A couple weeks later, I was assigned to the province infirmary. I was so humbled; the minister of a community is vital, and to think I would be second-in-command over a large community of men who tended to be three times my age spoke volumes regarding the Society’s trust in me. I fielded several emails from concerned Jesuits who were wondering “what happened” that I not being sent to a high school like they all were; I assured them that all was well.

My youngest brother brought his little Dodge Neon to St. Louis and helped me move to Milwaukee. I wasn’t there for more than a couple days before I decided that I wanted to make sure I plugged into the local Church somehow, and so I began looking for a parish. I remembered visiting St. Josaphat’s Basilica when I was in Milwaukee before entering novitiate, and I thought to attend their 10am Mass on Sunday. I was completely blown away by the beauty of the place; how I could ever have forgotten such a beautiful church is beyond me. The equally beautiful music combined with the well-executed liturgy sold me in a heartbeat; I knew this was going to be my parish. My heart swelled with love for the Church, and the next day I was calling the director of religious education and making her dream come true:

“Hi, my name is Jacob Boddicker; I’m a Jesuit scholastic here in Milwaukee. I’m wondering if you have any needs I might be able to help with? I’m happy to teach or assist with anything.”

“Oh my gosh, really? Confirmation; would you help with Confirmation?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Friends, let me tell you. On the surface that phone call seemed really simple; I felt like I was doing what we tend to call “a nice thing.” But she put me in touch with Talia, who would quickly become my first friend in Milwaukee and one of my dearest ever; I also made my second Milwaukee friend when I met her partner-in-crime, Aaron, who also taught Confirmation. Through them I entered into the amazing young adult Catholic world of the Milwaukee Archdiocese, and made so many amazing friends. I became involved in several archdiocesan events and found myself giving talks to groups at different parishes; the Basilica even invited me to give one of their Lenten talks, which is the largest group I think I’ve ever spoken to.

Now, that’s all wonderful of course, but here is where my darling Church comes in. My tenure at the infirmary was short-lived, and after one year I was assigned to Marquette University High School to teach Sacraments to sophomores and Catholic Social Teaching to juniors, all boys. I had never taught before, at least not in such a professional setting, so I was nervous. I loved the creative challenge of making the faith accessible and relevant to youth, and I’ve been assured by many that I did really well.

But as anyone who has ever taught knows, teaching is incredibly hard, especially your first couple of years, and ESPECIALLY if you have no training or background in it whatsoever. In the infirmary I enjoyed the luxury of free nights (and reasonable bedtimes), early mornings, a full but manageable schedule, and a great deal of flexibility. When I was teaching, I was lucky to get six hours of sleep in a night, assuming all my grading and prepping was done, along with any house responsibilities I had. The prayer life I enjoyed since novitiate quickly dwindled to Mass and what scraps I could bring to my poor Jesus at the very end of the day; some days more, some days less, but always something. Mass became my spiritual everything, and I learned how to “suck the marrow” out of it and receive the spiritual nourishment and experience the closeness to Christ I needed to make it through the day. The Church was there for me, keeping my soul alive during two years that demanded everything I had; everything I gave came from Jesus through her.

Besides Mass she also supported me through the mob of friends she brought into my life during the previous year. To this day I still cannot believe the generosity of God in blessing me with such people in such numbers. How many weddings have I served? How many meals have I enjoyed with you all? How often did we randomly encounter each other as some Catholic event somewhere in the city? To all my Milwaukee friends: you cannot comprehend the graces that came into my life through your encouragement, kindness, and generosity. As deep as a mountain is tall is the hole of my debt to you, and I lie at the bottom of it unable to repay!

Without this Church, without this network of support that fed and supported my heart and soul those two years, I know for absolute certain I could not have served my students with the energy, joy, dedication, and creativity I strove to bring every day (some days better than others, of course!). Every wedding I’ve served, every bit of spiritual advice I’ve given, every tear I’ve let fall on my clerics, every engagement announcement I’ve been among the first to receive, every baby I’ve prayed for, every tragedy I’ve walked through with you, every question I’ve answered, every opinion I’ve given…all of these I give because it is all I have with which to repay you all.

I will leave this (long, sorry!) entry on this note, to illustrate the significance my regency Church has played in my vocation, how the Bride manifested herself in the most challenging years of my formation. Two summers ago I was on retreat, and I was contemplating all the ways God has showed me His love, both throughout Salvation History but also in my personal history. I imagined St. Peter’s in Rome, and the square was completely packed with people, save for a path that a group of angels had cleared out; their widespread wings held the crowd back. As I walked down this path toward the basilica, I looked around at the mass of strangers, recognizing not a single face. I asked one angel what the crowd was, and he said, “These are all the souls of heaven.”

I got to the basilica and a pair of angels opened the enormous doors; inside the pews were packed and everyone stood. As I walked toward the main altar where Jesus and Mary waited for me I looked around and saw not only many saints whom I admire and have a devotion for, but I also saw the faces of so many of the people I came to know and love in Milwaukee specifically: friends from the Basilica, from Holy Hill, from Cor Jesu, from Arise, from Marquette High, and many other places. I asked another angel who all these people were and he said, “These are all the people in heaven and on earth who pray for you.”

Church, who am I that you would want me, of all people, to be yours? When you are so generous to me, how can I refuse you, even if what you want—ME—makes no sense? Yet when my debt of gratitude is so great, how can I give you anything less than my entire self?

At the end of my days in Milwaukee, with many a fond and sad farewell, I departed for Berkeley, CA to begin my theology studies and, yet again, the Church was ready to continue surprising me.

 If you missed the first installments, pop over to read: 

Day One: How We Met.

Day Two: I Noticed Her Back (the Church that is!)

Day Three: Her Crazy Proposal

Day Four: Both/And

Day Five: A Short Honeymoon