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,

Your Other Brother

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