Quo Vadis? - Latin for "where are you going?" The apocryphal text "Acts of Peter" tells the story of Peter asking Jesus this as Peter flees the danger of crucifixion in Rome. Jesus responds "Romam vado iterum crucifigi" - I am going to Rome to be crucified again. Peter then musters the bravery to return and face martyrdom.
The event probably never happened, but the question is one that Jesus asks, and by extension, the Church asks, of each Christian. Quo vado? Where am I going? Where are we going? These are questions to be answered in our own personal way, but not based solely on our own impulses and inclinations (for often these contradict or are wrong), but on where Jesus calls us.
This language of calling is the language of vocation, from the Latin “vocare” which means to call. So what is my vocation? In the early church, and actually throughout most of Christian history before the 16th century, the highest calling was to some form of religious life: a monastery, the priesthood, etc. This, from fairly early on, usually implied celibacy, and it is of interest to note that various martyrdoms among Christian women were because they refused to marry. Yet what of today? The major division for men to consider first is between marriage and the priesthood.[1]
Though Holy Matrimony has been recognized informally as one of the core sacraments since at least as early as St Augustine of Hippo, and despite relatively strong statements about marriage theologically in the New Testament (though not incredibly abundant – the strongest being Ephesians 5), some critics from within the Church (such as Erasmus of Rotterdam) and sometimes dissenters from outside the Church (particularly the Protestant reformers – though these were primarily opposed to clerical celibacy and monasticism) made moves to re-assert the beauty and holiness of the sacrament of Holy Matrimony. Now, the reformers did not recognize Holy Matrimony as a sacrament, and this has led to the most elevated view of marriage surviving nowadays as being distinctly Catholic. The Catholic view is reasonably well summarized by a citation from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
""The intimate
community of life and love which constitutes the married state has been
established by the Creator and endowed by him with its own proper laws.... God
himself is the author of marriage." The vocation to marriage is written in
the very nature of man and woman as they came from the hand of the Creator.
Marriage is not a purely human institution despite the many variations it may
have undergone through the centuries in different cultures, social structures,
and spiritual attitudes. These differences should not cause us to forget its
common and permanent characteristics. Although the dignity of this institution
is not transparent everywhere with the same clarity, some sense of the
greatness of the matrimonial union exists in all cultures. "The well-being
of the individual person and of both human and Christian society is closely
bound up with the healthy state of conjugal and family life." (1603)
Holy Orders, for better or for worse, has been considered
holy since the very beginning. Take this quote from St Ignatius of Antioch,
third bishop of Antioch and a disciple of St John the Apostle, as well as by
some accounts directly appointed by St Peter the Apostle himself:
Follow your
bishop, every one of you, as obediently as Jesus Christ followed the
Father. Obey your priests too as you
would the apostles; give your deacons the same reverence that you would to a
command of God. Make sure that no step
affecting the Church is ever taken by anyone without the bishop’s sanction. The
sole Eucharist you should consider valid is one that is celebrated by the
bishop himself, or by some person authorized by him. Where the bishop is to be seen, there let all
his people be; just as, wherever Jesus Christ is present, there is the Catholic
Church.
(Letter to the Smyrneans 8:1-2)
Evidently, Ignatius is using a lot of hyperbole. However, the idea I want to get across
presently is that from very early – this is written in about 110 AD[2]
– the priesthood and religious life was held in high esteem. Now, all validly
baptized Christians are part of the Church, and therefore partake of the
“priesthood of all believers” – but this is a particular priesthood. Just as
Israel was said by God to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Ex.
19:6) yet still the Levites were selected as being the tribe with the
particular priesthood. Strictly speaking, upon ordination one is ordained to
the presbyterate, [3]
and from there the presbyter (here on, simply priest) partakes not of their own
human priesthood, but in the High Priesthood of Jesus Christ. For human priests
could not and still cannot offer true and proper sacrifice – but Jesus can and
did. The priest offers not his own sacrifice, but that of Christ, re-presented
for the edification of all the faithful. Furthermore, the priest engages in
other aspects of the ministry of Christ through various other sacraments, such
as the sacrament of penance where the priest in persona Christi becomes a visible
sign of the absolution of sin, though the absolution of sin itself is always done
by God.
One area where the Church would benefit from a deeper
theology of women, as Pope Francis has called for, is in the renewed emphasis
on female vocation to religious life. It has been my experience – and from
anecdotes, that of some others – that the procedure for discernment of vocation
to religious life for women is greatly impoverished in comparison to that for
men. What does this suggest? In my view, it promotes the idea that the real
crux and foundation for the Church is the presbyterate, which in turn leads to
an outcry over a male-only priesthood. This is not the correct place to discuss
this issue, so I will merely say that this deeper theology of femininity and
women in the Church is sorely needed at present, to fully express the truth
that priests are only one part of a very multi-faceted Church. The Catholic
Church is blessed by God with the laity of all stripes and forms (single and
married), the Brothers and Sisters, the priests (together with bishops) and
deacons. Having noted that there is a very important part to play for women, I
will now set aside the issue of particularly female vocations, because this is
to be a blog post about my own calling – so I must omit female vocations as
well as the single life (as part of the laity), to which I am by no means
called.
If becoming Catholic was the second most difficult decision
I have yet taken, this must be the first: am I to follow Jesus in married life
or the priesthood? This issue is one I have been considering since April 2013,
and it can rightly be said I have even been struggling with this since around
June or July 2013. Like always, these matters are intensely personal and
coloured by my experience. I surely approach this issue differently as a
convert – and more particularly still as a convert with my unique background –
to someone who has embraced the Catholic faith since childhood.
If it is not clear from my discussion of both the sacraments
of Holy Matrimony and Holy Orders, there is no distinction for me in how holy
one is when compared to the other. Yes, I am aware of the rulings of the
Council of Trent on this issue (which declared that Holy Matrimony is not above
Holy Orders) – but that merely reinforces my point, that both are on equal
footing. If not based on which path is holier, why the difficulty?
My circumstances impact how I approach this question in all
sorts of ways. I had planned to get married ever since I left primary school.[4]
I have had a girlfriend for close to two years. I barely know other than from
theory what a priest does. I am completely unsure I can handle celibacy – both
from the natural impulses I have and because I have been variously told that it
can be very lonely at times. I have no enormous taste for liturgy. I also am
very much in support of lay people realizing and taking hold of their crucial
part in the Church – the universal vocation to love and holiness, the
commission to make disciples of all nations, and many other callings – and that
message would seem hindered if I was a cleric, not a lay person.
My aspirations also impact how I approach the matter. I grow
ever more uncomfortable with my affluence – even though it is my parents’ and
not my own – and material riches, particularly in light of Jesus’ call to sell
everything, give to the poor and follow him. I aspire to be able to love
chastely, give of my time and care freely and not be required to dedicate
myself mostly to the small group of my wife and kids. And I want to say fully
to God “not my will, but yours be done” – especially in the call to missions. I
deeply desire these things, and always for
the greater glory of God.
For the close reader, the choice would seem clear: most of
my reasons for marriage are circumstantial or arise from the fear of being
unable to take on celibacy (that precious but difficult charism) and fear of
not being able to be used as I want to be, on my terms, in the presbyterate. In
contrast, the reasons for the priesthood seem eternal though still personal.
Still, the solution could not yet be trivially arrived at,
for these paths are both callings in
the Christian life. One ought not to assume that marriage or the priesthood are
defaults, for both are things to which the Lord calls or does not. We are not
entitled to marry another person – marriage is therefore not a right – nor are
we entitled to the priesthood, which is also not a right. Therefore the
question is – and it should always be this question – am I called to one of these
paths in life?
The reader that knows how the Church probably already knows
the answer, because my list of aspirations closely mirrors the vows of the
Society of Jesus. Jesuits take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, as well
as a fourth vow of obedience to the Pope in matters of missions. If that hint
was too subtle, that deeper desire to do things for the glory of God reflects
one of the mottos of St Ignatius of Loyola and by extension of the Jesuits
which he founded: “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.”
Am I called to the Jesuits? This question which I struggled
with for about two months was essentially answered one Sunday. What happened
was this: for about a month when I was considering the issue, the Sunday Mass
gospel readings had all been of Jesus calling and sending the apostles, other
disciples, etcetera, and one week even the Old Testament passage also - it was
of God calling Elisha to take over from Elijah. Finally I was sitting in the
parish of St Ignatius in Toowong (notable because this parish is run by the
Jesuits) for the closing Mass of the ACSA conference, and once again, the
reading was of Jesus calling to his particular service. Could I say anything
other than “your will be done”?
For these reasons and with this calling from the Lord, I
have decided to pursue entry into the Society of Jesus to become a priest of
Jesus Christ. It has been confirmed by many people, some saying I pray like a
priest, one even going so far as to say, perhaps not so jokingly, that I have
all the makings of a Pope.[5]
Do my fears remain? In part. I come to Jesus
much like St Peter did when he saw Jesus walking on water:
“He spoke to them, saying, “Take heart, it is I; have no fear.” And
Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and
walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning
to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out
his hand and caught him, saying to him, “O man of little faith, why did you
doubt?” And when
they got into the boat, the wind ceased.”
Instead of walking on water, I walk to the priesthood.
Instead of sinking in water, I may begin to sink in hesitation. But God, being
patient and rich in kindness, nonetheless says to me “O you of little faith! Why do you doubt?” Then my Lord helps me out
of my uncertainty with the hand of assurance that truly he is with me until the
end of the age. May I yet fear? By no means! For God who has brought me thus
far can be trusted to equip those he calls! The Lord does not call people to be
light in the world and yet keep them in darkness.
It is true that I am not entirely sure what the future will
hold. In the short term, I am called to finish my university degree and perhaps
even some further studies, all the while doing my part to help edify the
University of Queensland’s Newman Catholic Society. Each Christian, after all,
is called to be a beacon of hope and of the love of God wherever they find
themselves. In the long term things are even more uncertain, since in taking
vows I relinquish control and surrender (in a new way) completely to Jesus
Christ who called me where I go. I must hence live by faith, and not by sight,
as it was said so long ago. May I live ever more ad majorem Dei gloriam!
Written on the Feast
of St Bartholomew the Apostle,
24th of
August 2013 AD
Brisbane, Australia
Published on the
Feast of St Thérèse of Lisieux,
1st of
October 2013 AD
Brisbane, Australia.
[1] Vocations to be a Brother
or a single lay person exist, though these days these are found less
frequently. Perhaps this is a sad thing, because both roles enrich the Church –
but it is a fact in present times.
[2] Some scholars believe that
this is even earlier than some of the canonical documents now recorded in the
New Testament – though this is by no means a majority view, and the consensus
seems to be that one of the Johannine texts is the last, dated around the end
of the first century. If not a Johannine text, then one of the epistles of
Peter instead – sometimes II Peter is dated to around 150 AD.
[3] For those wondering why
the distinction is made, this more technical term lies behind the word “elder”
in many translation of the New Testament. It is therefore properly understood
as being entirely biblical. There are historical and cultural reasons for the
use of a different word in many early church documents, but the concept is
nonetheless identical.
[4] When I was in year 3 or 4
in England, at Manorcroft, I remember telling my best friend James Alston that
I did not want to get married, though I would probably have a girlfriend. My
childhood idea of girlfriends was one of companionship, and as it was most of
my friends were boys, so having a girl companion did not seem a top priority. I
also recall, though I know not when this was, asking my parents why people who
are dating love each other, but married people do not. But this attitude of my
childhood left me as I went to Spain, and by the time I was in first year of
ESO (secondary school) I reckoned I would marry.
[5] That is not, of course, my
intention. Why would I join a religious order that asked me to vow not to
ambition for higher office?
