Hearing The Call

Fourth Sunday of Easter – Cycle C

Acts 13: 14, 34-52; Revelation 7: 9, 14b-7; 

John 10: 27-30

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. It is also World Day of Prayer For Vocations. Today we are asked to unite our voices with others across the globe in the hopes that each of us will recognize our call to serve God.

Now, when I say the word vocation, many people immediately assume that I am talking about the need for more priests. The priesthood is certainly one vocation that is needed. But not everyone is called to be a priest. I'm not. I believe that God is calling everyone in some way – calling each of us to serve in our own particular and unique fashion. Praying for vocations will allow us to contemplate how we are called to serve.

In today's gospel passage Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” God is telling us what we should do. We must all learn to listen to the Good Shepherd's voice. But how do we hear that voice in today's world? The same way that people did in times past – through prayer and reflection. We are all called to serve the Lord and each other. We are all called to carry on the mission that Jesus began. Prayer and reflection will point us in the right direction.

When I was in high school, one of my teachers was talking about the importance of prayer in our lives. I went to him after class – I was too embarrassed to say it in class – and I asked him how to pray. He told me that we have many terrific prayers and to find one that speaks to me. I said no, I don't to recite a prayer that someone else has written, how do I pray what is in my heart? He told me that good prayer always encompasses three elements – praise God, thank God, ask God for what you want. While I hesitate to correct my teacher, maturity and experience have taught me that there is a fourth vital component for good prayer – listening to what God has to say. Sometimes what we want is different from what God wants from us. Good prayer and reflection takes this into account. It is this fourth element that is particularly important when we are discerning our vocation.

Vocation is a life commitment. That vocation may change or evolve as we grow. I was called to be a husband and a father. I was called to serve as an example of God's love to my family. That service eventually led me to the Diaconate. But is doesn't necessarily stop there. Somewhere down the road, that calling might lead me in a new direction. I just need to be open and accepting of God's call.

When I was a boy, my uncle owned a camp on the Ohio River. Every Sunday during the summer, the family would gather at the camp and spend the day enjoying each others' company. It was great fun for us kids. The one constant of those days was the river. I've seen the river at flood stage. I've seen the river at drought. I've seen the river flowing hard and fast. I've seen the river frozen solid. I thought that I had seen it all. Most of the time, the river is a muddy wavy mess. But there was one morning that it was different. We were camping out over the Fourth of July holiday. I got up a little after sunrise and walked down to the river alone. It was very still – very peaceful. I was standing on the boat dock and looking down at the water. There were no waves at all and the river appeared to be a solid sheet of glass. I could clearly see the bottom. I could make out the pattern of the sand and could clearly see shells. It was glorious.

Discerning God's vocational calling can be like that. We can study and observe the question for years and then one day there is a moment of clarity – when it all comes together. It is that moment that we should all seek.

Discerning God's call can lead to life-altering changes. Perhaps you are called to serve God by joining the Catholic church. If your moment of clarity reveals that to you, now is the time to rid yourself of those impediments that have held you back, and embrace the Catholic faith. Perhaps you are called to serve God as a single person. If so, now is the time to joyfully acknowledge that you are a prophetic witness of God's love in today's world. Maybe you are called to be a parent. If so, your moment of clarity will help you to understand how best to serve God in raising and instructing your children.

God has a plan for each of us. We can choose to ignore that plan. We can choose a different plan. Or we can accept God's calling and implement it into our daily lives. There is much to be done. There is an urgency here. The hungry need to be fed immediately. Poverty and disease need to be eliminated without delay. The problems with the environment need to be addressed. It is all God's work, and our participation in it cannot be postponed. I urge each of you to look inward and discover your own place in building up the Kingdom of God.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

4th Sunday of Easter

April 25, 2010

Road From Emmaus

Easter Sunday

Acts 10: 34a, 37-43; Colassians 3: 1-4; 

Luke 24: 13-35

The disciples were lost. This Jesus that they had served had been taken from them, convicted, hung on a cross and executed like a common criminal. This Jesus that they hoped was the chosen one – the one who would establish the kingdom of God was now gone. And so they were afraid. They were lost and so they left Jerusalem and headed down the road to Emmaus – the “road to nowhere.”

Along the way they encountered a stranger. They recounded all that had happened in Jerusalem. The stranger listened to their story and then he began to interpret the scriptures for them. He began to open it up for them. And their hearts burned. But they did not recognize him. They knew that the words this man was speaking were truth, but they did not recognize him. It was later in the evening, when he broke the bread, that their eyes were opened. At that moment all of their doubts – all of their fears went away. Their path was clear – and it did not lead down that road to nowhere. It led back to Jerusalem and back to Jesus.

I was on the road to Emmaus once. I was in formation to become a deacon. It was a four year program and I had completed my first two years. People kept asking me, “Are you called to this ministry?” I would look and them and respond “I don't know, it hasn't been made clear.” One of the other things that people kept telling me was that, to be a good deacon, I had to embrace and believe EVERYTHING that the church teaches. I was having difficulty with that. There are a few things – not many – but a few things that the church says that I struggled with – and continue to struggle with. I was having doubts; I was having fears, and they all came to a head that summer between my second and third year. I was so discouraged that I didn't know if I could remain in the diaconate program. I wasn't even sure if I could remain a Roman Catholic.

Then something amazing happened to me. I attended mass at another parish here in the archdiocese. It's a catholic church – one that is known for having a strong social justice slant. It's also a parish that is known for being a little loose with the rules as far as liturgy goes. Let me give you some examples: When they make the sign of the cross, they say “In the name of the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sanctifier. When they recite the Lord's Prayer, they say “Our Father / Mother...” It is not uncommon to attend mass there and hear a nun, or layperson proclaim the gospel and deliver the homily. Many people would see them and declare, “This is NOT a Catholic church.” But I went there.

On this particular day, there were baptisms. It seems that a family that had moved to Tennessee some years ago, returned in order to have their three children baptized in this parish. The priest stepped forward and asked, “What name do you give this child?” And the parents said the name. Then Father said, “Tell me something about this child.” This perked my ears up – I had never heard a priest ask that before. Then the priest took the Sacred Chrism and made a cross on each forehead. Now – normally at this part of the ritual, the parents and godparents are invited to trace the cross as well. But Father surprised me again. He asked the parents to lead the children through the church so that EVERYONE could trace that cross on the kids' foreheads. Every person in that church entered into that covenant with God to raise those children in the catholic faith. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

Then came time for the actual baptism. The priest sprinkled the water over their foreheads and said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” All of a sudden, in the midst of the singing and celebrating, everything went quiet for me. It was as if time had stopped. I heard a voice in my ear, and it whispered four words - “See, I'm here too.”

There were tears in my eyes – and I remember looking at my wife and my sons – to see if they had heard it too. But they hadn't. The voice was just for me. It took a long time to be able to talk about this – and even longer to understand its meaning. What I came to realize is this: God can't be put in a box – whether that box be labeled “church” or “religion” or whatever. The box isn't big enough or strong enough to hold God. I now understood that I was called to this ministry and I understood that I could serve it faithfully, even with my doubts – even with my beliefs.

We all find ourselves on the road to Emmaus from time to time. We all find ourselves on the road to nowhere. But Jesus, the Good Shepherd, will seek us out, and lead us home, if only we let him. The road to Emmaus leads in all directions, but the road back home leads to one specific place:

[Lift the book of the Gospels]

It leads here – Jesus – the Word Made Flesh.

[Lift the altar crucifix]

It leads here – Jesus – whose death on the cross redeemed us all.

[touch the Easter candle]

Jesus – the Light of the World.

[touch the altar]

Jesus – the Bread of Life.

Are your hearts burning now?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Easter Sunday

April 4, 2010