into my head? Why would anyone
want to become a priest?
What moved me to this life
As I look back on the experiences
that first moved me to enter the Jesu-
it novitiate (the first stage of religious
formation), I see how my reasons for
pursuing consecrated life have grown
out of one another. One of the things
that initially drew me was the allure
of celebrating the sacraments. In my
first few months of discernment,
many years ago now, I would sing the
words of the eucharistic consecration
whenever I was alone in my car. But
when chasubles and incense took a
disproportionately large place in my
early fantasies, I realized that a desire
to be seen as holy is not the same as
the desire to be holy. What makes us
holy is not primarily ritual but rather
love. It is our thirst for justice, our
practice of kindness, our way of relat-
ing to people.
Working in a disadvantaged
neighborhood, I saw the suffering of
the poor firsthand. My eyes opened
to tremendous needs. Moreover I
saw how deeply our parishioners
trusted the Jesuits, who had consecrated their entire lives to the cause
of love in the midst of a world that
otherwise held little but cruel disappointments for the poor.
Their vows of poverty, chastity,
and obedience are not easy ones.
While they are not necessary for a
life of service, when I saw that so
many religious found their vows
to be freeing rather than a burden,
I began to ask myself questions.
Could taking religious vows be a
way for me to devote my time—and
more important the emotional and
spiritual energy I have available for
love—to single-hearted service of the
people of God?
Marriage vows can liberate
people, too. So can other forms of
single and community life. No vocation is holier than any other. I hate
to hear the priesthood described as a
“higher calling.” How can one calling
be better when they all come from
God? The question is, which form
of life will help each of us, with our
When I saw that
so many religious
found their vows to be
freeing rather than a
burden, I began to ask
myself questions.
“
her crumbling house. The tears that
she shed when I gave her the gift
card were ones of incredulous joy.
Stepping into this drama of hardship, charity, and gratitude, I knew
that I’d encountered something to
do with the meaning of life—and I
knew that I wanted more.
In those days, I used to run
around the track of the local high
school, humming silly little tunes
to set my pace. One day I found
myself jogging to a simple refrain
that came unbidden to mind: “I
want . . . to be . . . a saint. I want . .
. to be . . . a saint.” After a few laps,
the refrain suddenly changed, and I
picked up speed and went careening
around the field: “I want . . . to be
. . . a priest! I want . . . to be . . . a
priest!”
Why in the world did those
words—and that crazy desire—come
Enter #254 at VocationMatch.com
