Our Lady of Lourdes Church and School

“Yet just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down, and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and bread to the one who eats, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me empty, but shall do what pleases me, achieving the end for which I sent it.” (Is 55:10-11)

This beautiful passage from Isaiah in today’s first reading is, for me, one of the most freeing passages in the Old Testament.

I was recently asked a question by a young member of our parish who wondered if a priest decided to leave the active ministry of the priesthood, could they get married? It was an interesting question and I had no idea what might have given rise to it, but my answer was affirmative. I didn’t think I was being invited into a canonical or theological reflection, and so I left it at that. Later, however, it caused me to reflect a little more deeply on the nature of vocation in life, and of my own experience of the call to service of God’s people as an ordained minister.

I remember being at a funeral where a relative of the deceased person was sharing some words of reflection at the end of the mass. The man who was speaking happened to have been ordained a priest earlier in his life, but who formally “left” the priesthood, and subsequently married. As he spoke at the funeral, he referred to his own “failure” as a priest. He broke my heart as I listened to him. I’m sure the words couldn’t have been easy for any of his family to hear, including his wife. When I was growing up, there was always a stigma attached to a priest leaving the priesthood, or to a seminarian who left the seminary. Thankfully, even though people may still gossip, the stigma has somewhat lessened… but only somewhat. It is never easy for a person to acknowledge that their choice of vocation was perhaps a mistake that they made in life, despite their desire to do right by God, by others, and by themselves.

In my own discernment in life, I appreciate that there is no call that is lived in life in terms of the absolute. By this I mean that whatever choice a person might make in life, God’s providence is such that the choice can be held and blessed by God, that the decision - whatever it may be - can be an occasion of grace. In other words, there is no single, absolute way to live one’s life. The universal call, or vocation, which all people hold in common is a call to holiness. How that holiness is lived out is a whole other question. As Isaiah reminds us: “And your ears shall hear a word behind you: “This is the way; walk in it,” when you would turn to the right or the left.”  So whether I turn right in my life, or left, I will encounter the living God who will grace and bless my choice of direction. It is God alone who is the source of holiness, and our participation in life with and for God is our entering into and sharing the life of holiness.

I have learned that the word of God enters into life and will not return to God until the purpose for which it was sent into the world is fulfilled. If I happen to live up to all that God desires and wills for me in life, then that is certainly a graced life. If, by the same token, I only partially live up to all that God wills and desires for me in life, then I am still graced, though perhaps my experience of the fullness of the life which is desired for me is somewhat diminished. God’s will is not foiled, but perhaps it might take just a little longer in its fulfillment.

I was struck recently by a column I read which observed that “Millennials don’t think to consult the church for vocational wisdom. They almost uniformly don’t think their churches have anything to offer them in addressing their vocational struggles and desires.” I don’t know if this is true or not, and to be clear, in this context the word vocation refers to any choice of work in life, and not to “religious” or “church” vocations in particular. The thought made me wonder whether in our culture we have become so highly sensitized to choice and individualism that even God is removed from consideration of what life might be about for me? Have we all, to some degree, become ‘agnostic’ when it comes to life choices? Have personal happiness or individual satisfaction become the ‘gods’ at whose altar we worship? What are the criteria we use in discerning the actual and significant choices of our lives? Or do we just float along telling ourselves that we are making informed and intentional choices when we may simply reacting to circumstances? Whatever the case may be, evidence suggests that we are increasingly about keeping our options open rather than entering into life-choices.

I am happy, however, that God has been and is decisively faithful, even if I am not. I am grateful that God can keep a commitment, even if I have to struggle to live mine. I am graced by God’s blessing, even if my own growth in holiness is not as fruitful as it might be. I am most grateful that Jesus reminds me of the enduring goodness and faithfulness of God.