As a child, one might say I did have an active Catholic faith much to my parents’ efforts. We never missed Mass, and we all received the sacraments of Eucharist and Confirmation. My family was friends with several of the Columban fathers and often would visit them or have them over for dinner. I heard the many stories of mission in faraway lands. They sounded exotic and adventurous. I attended Catholic schools and became an altar server. Actually, I had no desire to be an altar server, but my mother insisted. I was determined to win out my mother’s insistence but when I saw all my school companions volunteer to be altar servers, I didn’t want to be left out so I volunteered.
In spite of all this Catholic upbringing, at the age of fourteen, I stopped going to Mass. In fact, from the age fourteen to twenty, I probably attended Mass about five times. The few times I did, I would arrive in time for the Gospel to be read and left immediately after receiving the Eucharist. I wanted to have the shortest experience possible. At this juncture of my life, friends and weekend parties were my highest priorities.
Today, people often ask me, why did I become a priest? I jokingly say that when I was a little child, I asked my parents who is the man that is always last to arrive into the church and first to leave. They responded, the priest. With that, I sarcastically stated that I will be a priest. Little did I know that a childish joke would become a reality. As Psalm 8 states: “From the mouth of infants and nursing babes You have establish strength …”
In reality, my first sense of a priestly vocation came at the age of 21 when I read the book The Song of Bernadette, which is about the life of the visionary of Lourdes, St. Bernadette Soubirous. What moved me about her were two points. First, that she had such a strong experience that no one could persuade her that she didn’t, even under threats from governmental and law enforcement authorities. Although intimidated and threatened, Bernadette didn’t back down. Second, her later life as a nun. Too sickly to mission in foreign lands, which was her strongest desire, she was placed in charge of the infirmary because, as her superior put it, “she spends all her time there anyway.”
In reality, my first sense of a priestly vocation came at the age of 21 when I read the book The Song of Bernadette, which is about the life of the visionary of Lourdes, St. Bernadette Soubirous.
Bernadette proved to be a miracle worker with traditional herbal medicines and other remedies. Her care for her fellow Sisters was highly praised. However, most importantly, she wanted to lead a simple humble life away from the fame of Lourdes. Many dignitaries of the church, and nobles would visit the convent requesting to see the little visionary. Bernadette didn’t like to be bothered but complied out of obedience. Once, Bernadette saw a woman wondering the hallways of the convent and inquired what she needed. The woman replied, “I came to see the little visionary of Lourdes.” Bernadette pointed to a door and said, “if you watch that door, you’ll see her go through it.” Without another word, Bernadette left the woman’s presence and walked through the doors.
Although I had heard St. Bernadette’s story many times as a child, it touched me differently than before. Bernadette reawakened my tradition of saints, mission, and service. She tapped into my parents’ efforts to instill a Catholic tradition and faith. In time, I realized the faith, which was firmly planted in me, returned after a season of drought. Therefore, as priest, I recognize that faith is not a straight path but often a winding path with twists and turns. To step away may not be a loss of faith but a transformation of something more at a later date. Take heart that the seed that was planted will bear fruit, but in God’s time not ours.
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