June
AMDG
I, an apostle of Christ Triumphant, exiled by the law and
yet welcomed by the living church, to you, my brothers and sisters. We are at
home always and everywhere in the heart of God.
June brought mixed feelings for me. One year ago, I attended
an ordination weekend “come and see” event, a mountaintop experience in which I
gave my whole-hearted “yes” to my vocation. June is also when men all over the
world are ordained to the priesthood. June some ten years ago is when I first experienced
a festive celebration of Corpus Christi in another country. And June of last
year is also when I came out to the vocations director and things changed. If
June 28th is the one year anniversary of this death, then the coming
summer months will be the one year anniversary of my new life.
Reminisces
Let me share with you a little of my experience of the
ordination weekend last year. Reading through my journal reminded me of the
surging joy, vividity, and rightness of the experience of the whole weekend,
especially my time among the other Jesuits and discerners. It was the
exhilaration of everything falling into place. I wrote,
“…and then at 10:30 the mass
itself. Glorious. [A few] men were ordained, and it looked like ~100 brother
Jesuits were there to share in the moment. It was such a display of fraternity
and of the magnitude of the family these men have become a part of.”
How can I explain? With the Jesuits I shared a vision of
glory – the glory of God and the glorification of God’s people. We shared not
only the love of God but the readiness and determination to work toward the
vision. I saw my own dreams for myself—to help others; to share the joy of
knowing God; to make vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; to be part of
something much, much bigger than myself—echoed and fulfilled in the religious community
around me. Religious life also presented answers to many of the practical
frustrations of single life.
This Year
Even without the vocations aspect, I had looked forward to
attending future ordination masses. When I learned that I could attend this
year’s with the Jesuits, I wanted two things: to pray for the ordinandi and
lift them up, and to receive the overflowing grace. I knew that I would be uplifted
by the mass. I also expected to be a little sad that day. And I assumed without
even thinking about it that I would be alone; it is always a busy weekend for
the Jesuits, and I am not one of the family. I would come and go quietly, which
is how I often live my life.
What actually happened is that I was cared for. I was
included in the events of the day, sitting in company at the mass and being
invited to the luncheon and house after, and I felt included among the
brothers. I was not alienated and I was not forgotten, two conditions I didn’t
realize I had internalized until the illusion was broken. I got to know two scholastics
with whom I share interests. The vocations director also greeted me, which perhaps
shouldn’t have surprised me but very much did. Up until that point, I still wasn’t
sure if my presence was breaking etiquette. All of this really impacted me. It
built me up. It was like hearing the chorus coming in around me. Where I had
known I was one small voice among many, I was now realizing the depth and closeness
of the ensemble.
Moving On
I have been struggling over the last several months with the
expectation and desire to move on from my broken dream as compared to my
still-wounded reality. Seriously, it’s been a year! I’m ready to move on! And
sometimes I think I have. But at other times, I haven’t. Ironically, St.
Ignatius must have experienced the same thing with his original, burning,
long-held desire to serve in the Holy Land. I could stand to pray for his
intercession more.
But more inspiring to me than the detachment of St. Ignatius
is the story shared by a Franciscan who visited my church this spring. One New
Year’s Eve, tipsy, he and his colleagues decided to climb some scaffolding in
the church to touch the feet of Jesus in a painting of the Ascension on the dome.
Upon reaching the rickety top, the priest was surprised by what he saw on Jesus’s
feet. A drop of red blood rolling down Jesus’s foot from his wound.
This let me know that it is okay to still hurt. Healing is a
long and nonlinear process. And grace can be found here.
Circling back to ordination day, I had thought that a day of
prayer and reflection at the Jesuit campus would be a good way to move my
thoughts forward. Instead I got a day of comradery. The weekend began with the
ordination mass (actually, with several hours’ commute) but was filled with the
company of the Jesuits and two other spiritual brothers, a phone call granting
me an audience with a wise bishop, and, even so, an abundance of time to
journal and reflect.
I left the weekend looking forward, encouraged. I have
brothers and sisters on either side. The mission moves; its heart beats. And
for myself, I feel a determination, a resolve, and a rightness about my place. Perhaps
this is born of the support and affirmation that were demonstrated this weekend.
Having a sense of next steps certainly contributes. But whatever the cause,
although I have regrets, I am not heartsick for the moment.
I pray for all of us, that our hearts may be conformed to
the heart of Jesus during this June especially. We pray for all of our new
priests! For our church to be brought into greater unity and wholeness. For me,
that I will be receptive to the movement of the Holy Spirit in the coming
weeks. And for you and your intentions.
With gratitude,
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