Not fantasy, but really possible
by Bishop Joensen | October 21, 2024
Those who’ve participated in a parish Confirmation Mass since this past Easter know that in my homily I challenge the newly-confirmed to “be real”—to live in a way that the outer sealing with Sacred Chrism is one with their inner identity, hopes, passions, and prayer. Following one such recent Mass, I left church alongside a father whose three sons were walking ahead of us; he turned to me and said, “I really hope and pray that one of my sons becomes a priest.” I replied, “Thank you; in some ways, they’ve already cleared the biggest hurdle—the support or lack thereof of parents—or worse, outright discouragement—should their son consider a priestly vocation.” The same might be said of daughters [and sons] considering a vocation to religious life.
The late aerospace scientist, priest, theologian, and New Yorker contributor, Monsignor Lorenzo Albacete, in his essay collection, The Relevance of the Stars: Christ, Culture, and Destiny, comments: “Salvation is fundamentally the heart’s recognition of the real; therefore, it’s part of the drama of creation, independently of how it is shaped by the power of sin.”
He continues, “But it is not enough to end where I’ve just ended: Christ and the real. The question is, now what? Where is this Christ? Where does this happen? If there is any connection between Christ and the real... then any increase in the one leads to the other. An experience of the presence of Christ will make you passionately fascinated by what is real—by the little flower, the cosmos... even accounting at Merrill Lynch. Conversely, if you know that, if you follow that passionate fascination, the path will lead you to Christ. Pursuing that path of interest will lead you to Christ” (Albacete 15).
While it may be hard for me to fathom how accounting can be a passionate affair (!?), I’m glad there are men and women for whom this is the case—and I don’t think it’s all about the money. When we follow our passions in the light of day, when they express what is truly human, good and virtuous, then somehow Christ is implicated. He does not impose himself on us or want to encroach on our prospect of happiness. For if we encounter the real Jesus—whether in our experience of the Eucharist at Mass or in adoration, in supporting a vulnerable person, in an unexpectedly soul-filling and funny friendship, in the love of parents and family, in the spectacle of the Northern Lights, in music that stirs our soul to joy, peace, and praise—he is at the heart of our happiness.
The question, “Then what?” isn’t felt as gloomy or disturbing, but mysteriously inviting, exciting. Then life’s drama really takes off. Jesus’ remark, “All things are possible for God” (Mark 10:27) becomes our personal possibility, as we contemplate giving ourselves over to our Spirit-prompted passion. Following the Teacher and Savior is where we find life. For as Carmelite Father Wilfrid Stinissen, OCD, observes, Jesus’ “love caused him to want to keep nothing for himself.” “Christ is present in the Eucharist as the living Lord who wants to be our life. He not only wants to inspire our actions, he wants to act himself through us” (Bread That is Broken, 24, 36). The experience of being enlisted by Jesus to act in his name is worth more than tickets to Taylor Swift’s or Coldplay’s next world tour!
This year the Catholic Church’s annual Vocation Awareness Week is November 3-9. We are aware that in our own day, in our own Diocese of Des Moines, God really calls women and men to give up houses and siblings, mothers and fathers and property for the sake of the Gospel. We are grateful for the sisters, priests, and deacons alive or deceased who have touched our lives in some way and helped us to trust that God is for us, that love and mercy are real. And we look around and take stock of where we are as a family of faith, including where we may have become complacent when it comes to recognizing, affirming, and praying for the young people in whom we see the sparks of a priestly or religious vocation. That’s what our Des Moines priests did when we gathered recently for our annual workshop as we reflected critically on what we have or have not done to promote vocations. I think the Spirit “jostled” us to be ever more intentional in engaging young people through a vocational lens.
The good news: More than 20 young women from our Diocese have entered various religious communities in the past ten years. In addition, there are presently 19 permanent deacon aspirants who, if they persist in formation, will be ordained to the diaconate in Summer 2028. And there have been so many men supported by their spouses who have expressed interest that we will be starting a second concurrent diaconate cohort next year with formation beginning in 2026..
The mixed news: in our Diocese, there will be no priesthood ordinations next year, as there were no transitional deacons ordained this year. This situation reflects the fact that a few men discerned in the course of seminary formation that they were not called to be priests. We are grateful for their openness to the possibility of priesthood and know they will serve the Church in some way. We remain thankful for our present 11 seminarians; all are strong candidates for Holy Orders whom I would readily ordain.
It is encouraging that, as things presently stand, there are a dozen or so men of the appropriate age who are seriously considering priesthood; our vocations director, Father Ross Parker, and I did not think they were quite ready to enter seminary this Fall, but next year may well be the appointed time. Nonetheless, four to five years from now we will face another blip when we do not ordain priests or transitional deacons.
I have every confidence that thanks to initiatives of Father Parker and assistant vocation directors, Fathers Max Carson and Reed Flood, there are plenty of boys and young men who will eventually be ordained priests—but this fruit may be five to ten years away. Key events to “fan the flame” of possible priesthood are so-called Andrew Dinners at St. Albert and Dowling Catholic High Schools this month. Bravo to Father Aquinas Nichols at the Basilica of St. John who will host an Andrew Dinner on November 5, Election Night; we anticipate that more than 50 young men will “elect” to join area priests and myself to pray, dine together, and share from the heart what priestly life is like. It’s not too late to sign up: please contact diocesan vocations coordinator Cathy Jordan to do so: cjordan@dmdiocese.org.
I am convinced that if our diocesan parishes wholeheartedly discern and pursue pastoral initiatives corresponding with our strategic priorities toolkits (including “Preparing Disciples for the Domestic Church,” since families are the seedbed for all vocations), among the evangelical fruit we will see in coming years is a rise in vocations to the priesthood and religious life.
But even before then, I charge all of us--especially parents--to pray with renewed intent that God’s Spirit will call forth priests and religious from among our own diocesan parishes and communities. A rich cornucopia of possible prayers are available on the Vocations Awareness Week website.
If you find yourself ambivalent about the prospect of a son or daughter pursuing this path, pray anyway, and let God turn your heart to believe what St. John XXIII said in 1959 before he called the Second Vatican Council: “So let Christian families consider it one of their more sublime privileges to give priests to the Church, and so let them offer their sons to the sacred ministry with joy and gratitude” (Sacerdotii nostri primordia n. 113).
A mother in our Diocese who herself has a priest son shared with me the following prayer that extends back to 1881 to the little village of Lu in Italy. Mothers in particular prayed this simple prayer (it’s far simpler than our present diocesan prayer for vocations!) at Mass on the first Sunday of each month:
“Dear God, please call one of my sons [ or ‘my son’] into the priesthood. I myself will strive to live a good Christian life and will educate my children to do good. Bestow upon me the grace to give you, O God, a holy priest.”
Since parents began praying this prayer, more than 500 priestly and religious vocations have come forth from Lu. Impossible in our own Diocese? Hardly. For with God, all things are possible.