Again, No

This past Saturday, on the Memorial of Saint Scholastica, I received my letter from the Archdiocese of Seattle regarding my application for formation to the Diaconate. The answer, as it was eight years ago, was no. This time, there was no real explanation, just a carefully worded form letter.

The last time my application was rejected, I wrote a heartfelt exploration here of my grief and shock, titled “Called, Not Chosen“. What I said then is worth repeating.

I can easily accept it in my head – this decision, as I’ve said, was never up to me. In my heart, however, I’m still grieving.

It’s very strange to have been on a road for a long time – six or seven years – and then to suddenly discover that perhaps this wasn’t the road you were on after all.

The Lord continues to call me to serve, and once again I’m utterly ignorant about how. I thought it was in diakonos – indeed, the problem is that I still think that – but the Church has decided otherwise. As I’ve said before, we cannot discern these things in a vacuum – that way lies madness – but we must rather discern from within the Church and according to the mind of the Church.

So at this point, I’ve been discerning for the diaconate on and off for at least fourteen years. Most particularly, on my thousand-mile pilgrimage walk, I prayed that the Lord would show me how best I could serve Him.

I am grateful to all of the people over the years who encouraged me or walked with me in my discernment, most especially my beautiful bride, Francine. I have benefitted from the wisdom of a series of pastors, starting with the late Father Sacco, who jokingly called me “Deacon” as he taught me the duties of a sacristan, despite my protests. Fathers Maurer, Wichert, Wagner, Tuan, and Mulholland, as well as Deacon Fish, all encouraged me in their own ways to explore where the Lord was calling me, and I remain grateful for their guidance and friendship.

And of course there were countless other people in my life who encouraged or exhorted me or prayed for me, from friends to fellow parishioners to fellow pilgrims. Thank you.

This is the definitive end of that journey, but as I wrote following my recent pilgrimage: now that this journey has ended, where am I stepping to next?

In your mercy, please pray for the men entering into Deacon formation, and for the folks helping to form them. Pray also for those who might be considering a clerical vocation. We desperately need more workers in the vineyard – deacons and priests both – and we must continue to pray that the Lord calls them and that they answer His call.

I will continue to live out my little life of diakonia, to serve the Lord and His people. It will just look a little different than I expected. I am reminded of the life of one of my favourite saints, Santo Domingo de la Calzada.

He, too, tried on two occasions to serve God and the Church in the way in which he thought he was being called. In his case, it was as a monk. He tried first to join the monastery at Nuestra Señora de Valvanera and then later the one at San Millán de la Cogolla, but both times he was rejected.

Domingo chose then to live the life of a hermit, but the Lord had other plans for him. In the year 1039, he was approached by the Papal envoy, San Gregorio Ostiense (Saint Gregory of Ostia), who had been sent to Navarra by the Pope to free the country from a plague of locusts. Gregorio gave Domingo his new mission: to help build the infrastructure through Navarra and beyond for pilgrims walking on pilgrimage to Santiago.

He spent the rest of his life on this mission.

Who knows what God has in store?

I received my second no on Saturday. Later that evening, I served as MC for Bishop Schuster at our parish Confirmation Mass. On Sunday I served at the morning Mass where we celebrated the Rite of Sending for our Catechumens, as well as at the evening Mass where I supervised one of our senior altar servers being a thurifer for the first time.

This evening, we have a meeting with our Adult Catechesis team. Tomorrow I’m serving at the Ash Wednesday Mass with four apprentice servers. Thursday is the Rite of Election. Friday is Stations of the Cross. And then we’re back to the weekend Masses and chanted Vespers Sunday evening.

So I’m keeping busy at the parish.

I’ve mentioned here many times before the meditation by Saint John Henry Newman that sits on my desk. It is often a source of comfort to me, and it’s a strong reminder for me to trust in the Lord. I confess that I need that reminder pretty frequently these days.

God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I never may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next.

I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do His work; I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments and serve Him in my calling.

Therefore I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me—still He knows what He is about.

Jesus, I trust in thee!