This Sunday the Church calls “World Day of Prayer
for Vocations.” Each and everyone one of
us should be praying for vocations, to religious life, the diaconate and the
priesthood. All of the readings today
give us some sign or affirmation of the importance of vocations. In our first reading from Acts we can see how
important Paul and Barnabas’ message of the Gospel was, for many came to
believe. In the second reading the Apostle
John reminds us of just how important the messenger is, not because of himself,
but as God’s instrument he brings to the people Revelation. And finally in the Gospel, Jesus says, “My
sheep hear my voice . . .” we are all sheep but some among the sheep are chosen
by God to help Him shepherd His people.
I happen to be one of those, called to be a priest of Christ, not by my
own doing or choosing, but by Him who has called me. I want to share with you how that call
occurred in my life, when I finally understood it, and what I did about it.
I grew up in a very faith filled and practicing
family. We always went to mass on Sundays;
I can still remember getting dressed and marching off to Church. As a little boy I was in awe of Church, it
all looked quite awesome to me. We went
to Most Precious Blood in Astoria Queens, and I remember distinctly all the
beautiful statues, some even looked menacing, some looked tranquil, others just
typical. I loved all the different
colors and paintings, the shape of things, what the priest wore and especially
what he did. Believe it or not I liked
the signing though just as now I could not sing then either.
I remember playing priest when I was home; I am
about 7 or 8 years old at the time. My
older brother was my congregation. My
mom gave me a slice of wonder bread and some apple juice for the bread and wine. I had the missal in front of me and got along
as best I could and my brother would even respond sometimes. The innocence of early childhood, precious
indeed.
This innocence did not last for long. By the time I was a teenager mass became work
and it was boring. I always loved to be
playing ball in those days; especially basketball and Sunday mornings were for
the park to play pickup games until mama let us know the sauce (gravy) was
ready. My mother being no fool would ask
if I had been to Church. I would say, “Yes,”
and hand her a bulletin, you see, on my way to the park I would stop at the
church run into the narthex grab the bulletin and go. Can you believe it! Anyway, my mom picked up on this and asked me
on Sunday, “Oh by the way, what did Father preach about?” With my mouth hanging I would just say,
“huuuuuummmmhhhhh.” Get to mass she
would yell. So being the little wise guy
I knew that mass started at 10am, so if I got to the Narthex at 10:15 father
would be preaching, I would listen for a moment or two, remember a couple of
things, grab my bulletin and go. But as
smart as I thought I was my mother was smarter, she caught on to these
shenanigans as well.
Nevertheless, God was calling me, He did so when I
played mass as a little boy, and even though I avoided Him as a teenager right
up until my early to mid twenties the Good Lord was always dropping signs I
just didn’t pick them up right away.
I may have been around 16 years old when I was
attending our Youth Group at Our Lady of Grace in Fairview, NJ. I remember this because that night the
priest, Father Peter, asked us to write a person (or persons) name\s on a card
whom we thought could one day be a priest.
Well, when the card got to me I left it blank. But my cousin Vinnie did not leave it blank,
doesn’t that sound very New Yorkish, “My Cousin Vinnie.” Who do you think Vinnie wrote down on that
card? You guessed it, “me.” He told me afterwards and I remember being
upset at him because now I would have to dodge the priest because he may ask me
about the card, which eventually he did, but I got him off my back telling him
my cousin was playing a joke on me, but he didn’t go for it fully, because he
left me with, “think about it.”
I probably thought about it for a fleeting moment
and then it was gone. Jumping now into
my early twenties, I was like anybody else, I dated, seriously even, almost
getting married, but the Lord had different roads for us, both good as a matter
of fact, and you don’t need to know the rest, but the weird thing was that I
was not a practicing Catholic at this time.
Yes, I believed in God and you could not persuade me otherwise. My girl friend at the time was a practicing
Catholic and I tagged along to be a good sport.
Mass was still boring to me, I didn’t understand it, but what I did
understand was public speaking, especially motivational type of speaking. I was blessed with great coaches as a young
man, all of whom were great motivators, John Schettino, John and Mike Mesisca,
who coached during my CYO years, and Coach Talamini when I played in High
School. And I was already on the
beginning of my coaching journey at the time as well. So, when I went to mass I would always
critique the priest’s homily (not the ones at Our Lady of Grace, my North
Jersey friends know what I mean). More
so than not I would be frustrated because the priest did not speak well, he did
not motivate me, he spoke of nothing real, either about himself or of anything
relevant. You’re not only selling me
something, your offering me your very blood line, you gotta do better. I would then reflect during the Eucharistic
prayer, unknown to my then girlfriend, “I can be a better priest than him. I
can speak better, I can move better, and I would bring out my belief and
recruit you onto the team.” That was all
pride then, but even through my self-pride the Lord continued to drop hints and
in the back of my mind I am picturing myself coaching division one college
basketball, being married with 3 children, the dog running around the back
yard. I am sure God was smiling if not
laughing at my well laid out plans.
It wasn’t until I met my good friend Tommy Deas at
UPS who shared with me the Gospel, a fellow Catholic (another long story here,
this one will have to wait) which then caused what some call a reversion
(revert back to what you were) or conversion – a becoming of something you were
not, i.e. Augustine was a pagan who became Catholic. I began to pray more, I attended mass every
Sunday, weekly confession, and even began to go on retreats. I even started to think, is God calling me,
does He want something more of me? And
the answer was yes!
I entered seminary on June 3rd 1998. I have never looked back. I’ll share with you one final story. The night before I was ordained I was at home
with my parents. I was sitting with my
mom in the living room. She said that
she wanted to tell me something. My
mother was originally going to be a nun, but she left one year before her final
vows because she felt a very strong call to marriage and family. I already knew this, but then she told me something
she never mentioned to me. She said that
when I was three years old we all went as a family to Croatia, my older brother
Louis was about five at the time. I remember
the trip but only in images no conversations.
After we arrived in Croatia we all went to see the sisters and the
mother superior snuck us around back so that the other sisters would not see my
mother with a man and children, lest they get any funny ideas, it was the times
you know. Anyway, they brought us around
back and we all had lunch together.
Right before we were to leave Mother Superior said to my mom, since you
left one of your boys will be a priest.
My mom asked, “Which one?” The
good Mother picked me up. My mom knew
form that moment that I would be a priest and not once did she ever try to persuade
me to do so.
She also said to me,
tomorrow is August 13th that was the night – in the middle of the
morning actually that I left the convent and tomorrow you will be ordained,
which will be on August 13th.
She tried to give me here profession cross as a gift, but I refused and
told her that Cross is yours, and even though you did not take final vows a
part of the community will always be with you and we will place that cross in
your hands when you go to your rest. She
still misses community prayer even until today; she said that was the hardest
thing to give up. I know what she is
talking about. But more importantly for
us here today is not simply my story but yours as well. Is God calling you, have you been
listening? Are you a little naïve or
even a little ignorant as I was? Are you
a little scared of what others might think even your own parents if you were to
tell them about your vocation? And
parents do you promote vocations, prayer and faith with your children so that
they can discern the voice in God in their conscience?
God called me is He calling you? Just like I sat in that pew a long time ago
thinking I can do it better than him, God just might be motivating you as well
that you can do it even better than me!
FJ
