Pope Leo XIV on the diaconate

I recently finished Elise Ann Allen's Pope Leo XIV: A Biography. Back in May, I pretty much read the entire book with the exception of Allen's interview with the Holy Father, which she conducted last summer. Allen's is a very good biography that gives the reader a good sense of who Robert Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV, is. I recommend it.

In her interview, she asked a couple of questions about the Synod on Synodality. She focused in on some of the major issues that have emerged from that eccelsial exercise. These issues have been taken up by different study groups. One of these issues is the role of women in the Church. A subsection to that is the proposal to ordain women as deacons.

The Holy Father, who I do not believe either as a priest or a bishop has a deep personal experience of working with deacons, takes up the issue in much the same way as the head of the papally-appointed commission, Cardinal Giuseppe Petrocchi, did (a good summary can be found here). That is to say, he pointed to the great need for a better understanding of the diaconate.

Specifically, the Pontiff asked why the diaconate as a permanent order of ministry has not been more widely implemented in the Church throughout the world. This would include South America, where his former Diocese of Chiclayo, Peru, seems to have zero men serving permanently as deacons.

Noting that the debate over women deacons "will continue to be an issue," Pope Leo clearly stated that presently, "I don't have an intention of changing the teaching of the Church on this topic." He went on to give an exposition of what he meant when he said there are some important questions about the diaconate as a permanent order of ordained ministry that the Church still needs to address.

Deacon Robert Prevost with Pope Saint John Paul II

Pointing to a Wednesday catechesis he gave to "a fairly large group of English-speaking permanent deacons," he observed,

"This is one of the groups where deacons are better represented because there are parts of the world that never really promoted the permanent diaconate, and that itself became a question: Why would we talk about ordaining women to the diaconate if the diaconate itself is not yet properly understood and properly developed and promoted within the Church? And what are the reasons for that? (Allen, page 267)

In Lumen Gentium section 29, which is the magna carta of the restored and renewed diaconate, the Council points to the importance, perhaps even the necessity of the diaconate:

Since these duties [those pertaining to the diaconate as set forth in the preceding paragraph], so very necessary to the life of the Church, can be fulfilled only with difficulty in many regions in accordance with the discipline of the Latin Church as it exists today, the diaconate can in the future be restored as a proper and permanent rank of the hierarchy

Pope Leo recognizes the "significant inspiration at the time of the Council when the permanent diaconate was in effect reinstated [I love his use of the phrase "in effect" here, it shows how carefully he thinks and speaks], it has not become, in many parts of the world, what I think some people thought it would be earlier on" (all taken from pages 267-269 of Allen's book).

At the Council, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (i.e., Lumen Gentium) was divided into thirty-nine sections. Bishops at the Council voted on each of these seperately prior to voting on the entire constitution. Five of these sections specifically pertained to the diaconate. Four the five passed by comfortable margins. Only the proposal to ordain younger men deacons without having them make a vow of celibacy failed.

Pope Leo then proceeds to an important point Pope Francis made, which is that the Church doesn't need to clericalize everyone and all ministry. Overall, he calls for the Church universal to come to a better and deeper understanding of the diaconate as a permanent order of ministry in the Church. There is a lot of very good and important work that has been done on the diaconate by many people with a great expertise. This makes it so much more the shame that deacons, both in general and those with the requisite expertise, were not included in the Synod. In my view, what the Synod has produced on the diaconate so far, to put it bluntly, is very subpar.

The report by the commission appointed in 2020 by Pope Francis to study the diaconate (the second such commission he appointed- the first dissolved) is a hopeful sign that will lead to better effots, including when it come to synodality. As Deacon Ray Vann's Developing Diaconal Theology: A Study of the Diaconate and Actions in the Person of Christ the Head amply demonstrates, there really is not only widespread confusion, even among bishops, about the nature of the diaconate, but a hesitancy to really let deacons flourish, aiding the mission of the Church. This goes back to Ditewig's groundbreaking doctoral dissertation on deacons and governance in the Church.

One clarification is that there is no such thing as a "transitional" deacon. Once a deacon, always a deacon. As Deacon Bill Ditewig, one of those experts on the diaconate to whom I earlier alluded, oftens says in this regard: "Your bishop was not a transitional priest."

In my opinion (it is only that, my opinion), men destined for priestly ordination should spend 2-3 years serving as deacons prior to priestly ordination.

Deacons extended

Reading: Acts 8:5-8.14-17

Today finds me in rural Pennsylvania. Liberty Township, to be precise. I am here to lay my father-in-law to rest. He died in late January. It's beautiful and peaceful here. Now that I'm here, I find myself wishing our trip wasn't quite so short.

In any case, in our first reading for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, we hear more about one of the seven men who the Church holds to be her first deacons. Of the seven men set apart and consecrated for service in and to the primitive Church, there are only two we hear more about: Stephen and Philip.

There is of course Stephen, who, in addition to serving the Jerusalem community that held all things in common by ensuring what was held in common was distributed justly, began to boldly proclaim Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, God's anointed. As a result, at the behest of one Saul of Tarsus, he was stoned to death.

Acts also informs us about Philip, also one of the seven men chosen by the community and consecrated by the apostles. After the martyrdom of Stephen, the Church, which, at this early stage, only existed in Jerusalem, experienced (likely also at the hands of the same Saul), a terrible persecution. It was due to this persecution that Philip and his daughters fled northward to Samaria.

Once in Samaria, like Stephen in Jerusalem, Philip "proclaimed Christ to them," that is, proclaimed Jesus as Messiah to the people of Samaria (Acts 8:5). Not only did this deacon proclaim the Gospel of salvation through Jesus, who is the Christ, he performed signs and wonders. He healed those who were physically handicapped and paralyzed.

As people responded to his proclamation of the kerygma, Philip baptized them. In short, the Holy Spirit, working through Philip, accomplished something of a mini-Pentecost in Samaria. Philip then went back to Jerusalem to retrieve Peter and John. These two apostles then went and "confirmed" the baptism of the Samaritans who had placed their faith in Christ. For those, like me, with some charismatic inclinations, baptized them with the Holy Spirit.

Saint Philip in Samaria

In our passage, taken from the Lord's Last Supper Discourse in Saint John, Jesus tells His closest disciples that when He goes, He will send them the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, "another Advocate." The Holy Spirit is the mode of Christ's resurrection presence among, in, and through us. These days, it seems, we are falling back into more of an institutional posture at the expense of a charismatic one. Noting this, Pope Francis sought to create some much-needed tension.

This kind of tension energizes the Church. When it comes to the institutional and charismatic, we need to grasp the Catholic et/et (i.e., both/and). It is the Holy Spirit who allows us to avoid and overcome our tendency to create false dilemmas. The Church should neither be a lifeless institution nor an antinomian free-for-all.

Let's not forget, hearkening back to last week's reading from Acts, the threefold criteria for those considered the Church's first deacons was clearly set forth: men of good reputation, who are filled the Spirit, and with wisdom. Wisdom, of course, being one the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Given its ministerial flexibility to serve the Church and the world, the diaconate is itself a charismatic office. It should be understood and exercised as such.

Good shepherds to good deacons

Acts 6:1-7

Our first reading for the Fifth Sunday of Easter is what the Church, at least since Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, has taken to be the scriptural account of the institution of the diaconate (See Against the Heretics, Book III, Chapter 10). Hence, as a deacon, it seems appropriate to reflect on this today. Following, as it does, Good Shepherd Sunday, which is usually employed, and rightly so, to talk about priestly ministry, it seem fortuitous to reflect on the diaconate.

If we take Acts 6:1-7 seriously as the inspired account of the institution of the diaconate (exegetically, there are a few issues with doing so unreservedly), we see that there are three fundamental criterion: men of good reputation, who are "filled with the Spirit and wisdom" (Acts 6:3). At least in part, being a man of good reputation means being a just man.

The diakonia in which Stephen, Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicholas of Antioch, were set apart to engage in was ensuring that within the primitive Christian community, which held all things in common, that Greek-speaking widows received their fair share of the daily distribution of food. Since this diakonia was table service, we can stretch this to perhaps entail both the ministries of charity and of liturgy a little anachronistically.

What about the diakonia of the word? Well, there is a reason that Stephen, followed by Philip, is the first of the seven men named. As a reading of the rest of Acts 6 and then Acts 7 shows, it wasn't long before at least Stephen joined with the apostles in proclaiming the kerygma. It was for this that he was made the Church's first martyr.

Not long after that, when the primitive Church fell under heavy persecution in Jerusalem, causing many to flee, including Philip along with his daughters, that the second of the seven named preached the Gospel and baptized in Samaria. His most famous convert being the Ethiopian eunuch. It was Philip who went and brought Peter and John from Jerusalem to Samaria to impart the Holy Spirit on those whom he had baptized (see Acts 8).

As the ones who proclaim the Gospel in the liturgy, is important for the deacon to always keep in mind the exhortation received from his bishop during ordination as the bishop placed the evangelary in his hands: "Believe what you read, teach what you believe, and practice what you teach." Selflessness is at the heart of all Christian ministry, especially ordained ministry.

Saint Peter consecrating the Seven Deacons (Saint Stephen is shown kneeling), by Fra Angelico, in Niccoline Chapel, 1447

Through ordination one receives the sacramental grace necessary to serve like Christ. Just as there are uncommitted, half-hearted, and even bad priests, there are those kinds of deacons as well. Jesus Christ is the model deacon. When He told the twelve, "I am among you as the one who serves," what He said, when translated more literally, is, "I am among you as the deacon" (see Luke 22:27).

I think the best way to end this is with what might be called the magna carta of the renewed diaconate, the restoration of which as a permanent office was called for by the Second Vatican Council and realized a few years later. It is the section twenty-nine of the Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium. I am going to italicize and embolden parts that I feel need to be much better grasped by everyone, including deacons:

At a lower level of the hierarchy are deacons, upon whom hands are imposed "not unto the priesthood, but unto a ministry of service." For strengthened by sacramental grace, in communion with the bishop and his group of priests they serve in the diaconate of the liturgy, of the word, and of charity to the people of God. It is the duty of the deacon, according as it shall have been assigned to him by competent authority, to administer baptism solemnly, to be custodian and dispenser of the Eucharist [an ordinary minister of Holy Communion], to assist at and bless marriages in the name of the Church, to bring Viaticum to the dying, to read the Sacred Scripture to the faithful, to instruct and exhort the people, to preside over the worship and prayer of the faithful, to administer sacramentals, to officiate at funeral and burial services. Dedicated to duties of charity and of administration, let deacons be mindful of the admonition of Blessed Polycarp: "Be merciful, diligent, walking according to the truth of the Lord, who became the servant of all."

Since these duties, so very necessary to the life of the Church, can be fulfilled only with difficulty in many regions in accordance with the discipline of the Latin Church as it exists today, the diaconate can in the future be restored as a proper and permanent rank of the hierarchy. It pertains to the competent territorial bodies of bishops, of one kind or another, with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, to decide whether and where it is opportune for such deacons to be established for the care of souls. With the consent of the Roman Pontiff, this diaconate can, in the future, be conferred upon men of more mature age, even upon those living in the married state. It may also be conferred upon suitable young men, for whom the law of celibacy must remain intact.

Diaconate: My Adventure Continues

In addition to being the liturgical Memorial of Saint Francis de Sales, bishop and Doctor of the Church, tomorrow is also the twenty-second anniversary of my ordination as a deacon. On Saturday, 24 January 2004, the then-Bishop of Salt Lake City (later Archbishop of San Francisco), George H. Niederauer conferred upon me by his apostolic authority the sacrament of orders. Along with my marriage, the birth of my six children, it is certainly one of the the top ten days of my life.

Bishop George Niederauer presenting me with the Evangeliary during ordination, 24 January 2004

Bye-bye 2025: a quarter of the 21st century

In late 2024, I had a decision to make about Καθολικός διάκονος. This decision was basic: Do I keep at it or stop altogether? As an aside, I have grown comfortable with using "blog" as a verb.

I decided to keep blogging not out of any sense of obligation. After all, to whom am I obligated? My decision was based exclusively on how much I missed blogging regularly. In addition to being what I've taken to calling "a vehicle of growth" for me, I find writing enjoyable. I make no claim to be a gifted or even very good writer.

I don't do much free form writing these days. Sometimes, when something strikes me, I'll post something on culture, society, or politics. After the inaguration this past January, I composed a few posts about where I stand on matters political and economic. Frankly, my views haven't changed since I was quite young. Essentially, I am a pretty socially conservative social democrat. As such, I'm not a fan nor am I a member of either major party (or any political party- though in the past for "tactical" reasons I have been registered as both a Republican and as a Democrat).

I dislike both major parties for different reasons but also for some of the same reasons. I take my political cues from the social teaching of the Catholic Church. This makes me a political outsider. My faith doesn't just inform but shapes and forms my politics. My politics, to the extent that I am aware, does not shape my faith!

Even though I've considered conscientiously abstaining from voting, something I think is a legitimate moral stance, I vote in each an every election. Voting requires the use of prudential reason. Being a purist will get you nowhere politically.

Enough about all of that. Politics exhaust. Politics are provisional- "provided or serving only for the time being. synonym: temporary." As a Catholic, I believe it's helpful to take the long view. The Church has survived every political system in which she has found herself for nearly 2,000 years. Either Jesus is Lord or He isn't. Which side of that dilemma you choose makes all the difference in the world!

Including this one, Καθολικός διάκονος boasts 156 posts this year! That is the most since 2016, when I put up 161. In future, I envision somewhere between 140-150 post per annum. But, who knows? Readership on my "Blogspot page" has been encouraging. Sure it's a bit of an ego boost to see that people read what I write. I'm only human after all.

Most of my posts are homilies. It seems a shame to prepare and deliver them once and consign them to oblivion. More than an ego boost or a dopamine hit, it is my prayer and sincere hope that those who read what I post find it encouraging, challenging, consoling, thought-provoking, that is, useful in some way.

2025 was a fairly eventful year. Political chaos, the likes of which this country has not seen since the nineteenth century, ensued in January. Flooding the zone results in drowning. I see what we're experiencing as the logical conclusion of the drive toward the imperial presidency, which was more than fifty years in the making. Maybe we're simply having a stress test for our constitutional order. The death of my dearly beloved and much misunderstood and maligned Pope Francis on Easter Monday was an event. As was the selection of Pope Leo XIV as his successor. Adding to the latter event, Robert Prevost is from the U.S. Oddly, Ozzy Osbourne's death seems very culturally significant.

Each year there are losses along the way. Positing "a way" implies we're headed somewhere. It's absurd to view the grave as our destination. You don't just have a destination but a destiny. Nonetheless, an invitable aspect of aging (I'm not old, just not young anymore) is these losses pile up. Even as someone with hope, it is sometimes hard to bear the weight of loss. The good news is, I don't have to. Someone else has already borne that weight!

Looking ahead, I plan to continue posting most of my homilies and, on those Sundays I don't preach, a reflection on the readings for that week. I plan to continue the Friday traditio. I wavered a bit on the past month or so. I still have some news to reveal when the time is right. I hope to put up a few more posts on various topics. For the first time in a few years, I am reading the Bible in a Year- not a podcast, but actual reading according to a chronological reading plan. This will easily generate some (hopefully) thoughtful posts.

While I celebrated 20 years since starting this blog this past August, this coming July will mark twenty years since I began blogging in earnest. As a look at the history of my "Blogspot page" (how quaint to a Substack titan!) will show, I began this effort, which I originally entitled Scott Dodge for Nobody in August 2005. It wasn't until nearly a year later that I changed the name to Καθολικός διάκονος and started posting regularly.

So, 2026 will be a year of change and transition for me. It took me nearly the whole of 2025 to properly discern and decide to make some significant changes. I am grateful that I had the time necessary. I can honestly say that I am excited. I look forward to the New Year. I hope you are too, dear reader. I hope I can continue to extend my diaconal service through my little "Blogspot page."

Enjoy New Year's Eve. Blessings as 2026 begins. We'll catch up on the other side of midnight!

Institution of lectors

Since Friday kind of caught me flatfooted again, I am posting something I wrote this week that was not used. Lest it go to waste, I am posting it here.

As Director of the Office of the Diaconate for my diocese, I have been entrusted with forming new deacons. On Wednesday of last week, eight deacon Candidates for my diocese were instituted lectors by our bishop.

In 1967, Pope Paul VI promulgated, motu proprio the Apostolic Letter Ministeria Quaedam. With this, Paul VI abolished the minor orders of porter and exorcist. The orders of lector and acolyte remained. At that time, these two minor orders were reserved exclusively for men preparing for ordination.

Then, in January 2021, Pope Francis promulgated the Apostolic Letter Spiritus Domini. This Apostolic Letter was also promulgated motu proprio. In Spiritus Domini, the Holy Father revised Canon 230 § 1 of the Code of Canon Law to state: “Lay persons who possess the age and qualifications established by decree of the conference of bishops can be admitted on a stable basis through the prescribed liturgical rite to the ministries of lector and acolyte.” This includes women as well as men. At least to my knowledge the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has issued no decree regarding this change.

With Pope Francis' change, lector and acolyte are no longer "minor orders." Rather, along with the order of catechist, these are now lay orders. Pope Francis established the order of catechist in his Apostolic Letter Antiquum Ministerium (this too he promulgated motu proprio). In December 2021, the Dicastery of for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments issued the Rite for the Institution of Catechists during Mass.

While it is not the case that men preparing for ordination are instituted as catechists, they are still instituted as lectors and, after a suitable period allowing for the exercise of the lector’s ministry, then also as acolytes. Prior to being instituted lectors, married men preparing for diaconal ordination must petition their bishop in writing asking to be installed as lectors. Additionally, each wife of a man preparing to be a deacon has to give her consent to the bishop in writing for him to take this step.

The core of the Rite for the Institution of Lectors mirrors the part of the Rite of Ordination for Deacons during which the ordaining bishop presents the ordinand with the Evangeliary. The person being instituted as a Lector kneels in front of the bishop. Placing in the hands of the one being instituted either a Bible or the Church’s Lectionary, the bishop says:

Take this book of holy Scripture
and be faithful in handing on the word of God
so that it may grow strong in the hearts of his people

To which the one being instituted responds: “Amen.”

It is the ministry of the lector is to study, know, teach, and proclaim Sacred Scripture.

Being instituted lector marks the second milestone the journey to ordination, the first being acceptance as a Candidate for the sacrament of orders by the bishop. Institution as acolytes, then, is the penultimate step on this pilgrimage.

"Blessed be the name of Mary, Virgin and Mother"

As someone devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary, I would be remiss not to observe today's optional Memorial of the Holy Name of Mary in a public way, especially since I am unable to attend Mass. Besides, according to the Church, part of any authentic spirituality for a Catholic deacon is devotion to the Blessed Virgin.

As the Servant of God, Lucia dos Santos, one of the visionaries of Fatima insisted: "There is no problem, I tell you, no matter how difficult it is, that we cannot solve by the prayer of the Holy Rosary." During her several apparitions, our Blessed Mother has begged those to whom she was made manifest to pray her Most Holy Rosary and exhort others to do so.

We live in uncertain time. It is tempting to fall into despair. In the face of the onslaught, we realize how little we control, how little power we have to influence thing. The greatest deception of social media is giving users a false sense of power and influence. The Blessed Virgin Mary can be our refuge, our advocate, our most effacacious intercessor. Let us render our Blessed Mother hyperdulia.

Saint Louis de Montfort insisted that one who prays the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary will never be led astray.

In the Divine Praises we say:

Blessed be the great Mother of God, Mary most holy.
Blessed be her holy and Immaculate Conception.
Blessed be her glorious Assumption.

We end this section by praying Blessed be the name of Mary, Virgin and Mother

Turn to Mary. Pray her Most Holy Rosary. Pray her Memorare often.

Our second traditio for today is a choral rendition of The Divine Praises:

Twenty years of blogging here

It was 20 years ago today, 16 August 2005, that I first began this effort. I logged into the computer located in the office I shared with the parochial vicar in the rectory of The Cathedral of the Madeleine and started on a Tuesday afternoon. This blog first bore the title Scott Dodge for Nobody. I cribbed that name from a Sunday night radio program on local community radio (i.e., Tom Waits for Nobody).

As accustomed as I have become to using it, the verb "blogging" is bad enough. Therefore, I will resist celebrating my twentieth "blogiversary." How's that for backhanded?

My first post was "Intelligent Design- Religion & Politics." Over the next twelve days, this was followed by five more posts along these same lines. I had no idea what I was doing other than writing about something that had my attention at the time.

I won't forget how amazed I was at the ease of starting a blog and transmitting what I wrote to the "world wide web," as it was called much more frequently then than it is now. Such a capability is now so normal that the wonder and awe I felt 20 years ago seems naïve if not a bit stupid. Nonetheless, it remains a mind blowing experience for me. I was also intimidated.

I felt intimidated because I didn't think I had anything to write that was worth anyone's time. And so, after those five intial posts, I posted nothing until "How Occasional?" on 19 July 2006. It was then that I renamed my blog Καθολικός διάκονος. It was with that post that I began blogging in earnest.

While I was ordained in January 2004, my blogging is roughly coterminus with becoming a deacon. Since my earnest commencement (i.e., 2006), I have felt this to be part of ministry. Bear in mind that "ministry" is another word for service or diakonia. Perhaps this at least partly explains why, 20 years later, I'm still at it.

I care deeply about what I post. I don't aim to be spectacular or novel. Since this a labor of love, I don't have to be controversial or over-the-top to gain readers. As those who've read this blog for years know, I have wandered down a couple of paths before turning around. Even those By God's grace, were not fruitless forays. More and more I am realizing Eugene Peterson's wisdom in insisting that following Christ is "a long obedience in the same direction."

From 2007-2015, I blogged like a madman! I wrote about anything and everything. But I enjoyed it and learned a lot. Frankly, it was one of the best educational experiences I've ever had. Those were heady days.

There have been valleys, too. 2018 was the first time my blogging waned significantly. During both 2023 and 2024 I slowed down a lot. As readers know, after Easter last year I seriously considered folding up this virtual tent and calling it good.

One of the things that kept me from quitting last year was the thought of this anniversary. "One more year and some change," I thought, "until I reach a full two decades." What made me decide not only to continue but to rededicate myself to cultivating this little cyber space is the enjoyment and satifaction I derive from doing so. I like it. And last year, after awhile of not doing it, I missed it.

Since rejuvenating this blog last October, I have taken to deleting some short, kind of weird posts written during my overly prolific days of blogging. I don't go hunting for such posts. But as these pop up in the normal course of things, I schwack them. None of these are substantial contributions. It's easy to forget that for years this was my primary and even my only social media platform.

I have to say, the idea of reaching 20 years of blogging in earnest next summer is a driver for me to continue. It's also nice to be indefinite about blogging. I have no idea how long I might continue. I've poured a lot my heart and soul into this. As a result, I've grown tremendously. Writing publicly also serves as kind of grounding function as well as a reality check at times.

Back in the late oughts and early teens, blogging was all the rage. It seems like everyone had a blog. My start was likely the result of wanting to join in. Well, join I did! While it was cutting edge then, both my format and the platform I use are now what are politely called legacy.

I remember when Wordpress came on the scene and that became all the rage, supplanting Blogger, which had already been purchased by Google. I considered moving over to that platform. I even went so far as to set everything up there with the title Diaconal Digressions.

I can easily recall when paying platforms started: BeliefNet, Patheos, Aleteia, et al. at the height of this craze, I was nearly lured over to one of these. But, like switching to Wordpress, it didn't feel right. Now, of course, there is Substack.

For better or for worse, here I've stayed. Here I plan to stay until blogging days are done.

Be "a faithful and prudent servant," like Saint Lawrence

Readings: Wis 18:6-9; Ps 33:1.12.18-22; Heb 11:1-2.8-19; Luke 12:32-48

In the wake of Pope Benedict XVI's resignation in 2013, Italian philospher, Giorgio Agamben, whose work very much informs my political perspective, wrote what basically amounts to a pamphlet: The Mystery of Evil: Benedict XVI and the End of Days. In this short treatise, Agamben notes something that Heidegger noted early on in his own philosophical career that resulted from his deep dive into Saint Paul's first letter to the Christians in ancient Thessaloniki, namely that over the course of two millenia, Christians have lost our sense of eschatological urgency.

Yet, each Sunday we profess in the Creed, be it the Nicene or Apostles Creed, that Christ will return to judge the living and the dead. Rooted as it is in divine revelation, this is a dogma of Christian faith. As a result, as Jesus teaches into today's Gospel, how we live in the meantime matters. "Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again." We are not meant to just mark time.

It is easy to fall into a worldly perspective and live for this life only. Inevitably and without exception, this life ends, which is what makes living exclusively for time and disregrading eternity so dangerous.

Money, possessions, power, and status aren't the measure of a person. You really can't take it with you, as Jesus' parable from last Sunday powerfully and simply demonstrated. Status and power matter, at least how one who has them wields them does. It can mean the difference between being rewarded for using them prudently and wisely, that is, charitably and only being beaten lightly or being beaten severely.

It is not God's desire to punishment anyone. Rather, as Jesus intimates in our Gospel, it is the Father's pleasure "to give you the kingdom." But, at the end of the day, your heart is where your treasure is. It isn't so much that God denies you the kingdom as you saying to God, "No thanks." As C.S. Lewis wrote:

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done” (C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (1946; rprt. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2001), 75)

The Basilica of Saint Lawrence outside-the-Walls (i.e., San Lorenzo fuori le mura), 18th century engraving by Giuseppe Vasi

As a deacon, I can't help but mention that in years when 10 August does not fall on a Sunday (i.e., most every year), the Feast of Saint Lawrence is observed universally. Along with Saint Stephen and Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Lawrence is one of the Church's greatest deacons. Lawrence lived his entire life in the third century (AD 225-258).

Saint Lawrence gives us a lively example of what the Lord teaches in today's Gospel. Ordained a deacon at 32 by Pope Sixtus II, Lawrence was quickly named Archdeacon of Rome. The archdeacon was first among the seven deacons who served in the cathedral church. Archdeacon was a position of that came with status, power, and control of the Church's treasury. As such, Lawrence was charged with distributing alms to the poor. By all accounts he was honest, diligent, and caring in the exercise of his office.

In August 258, the Roman emperor Valerian issued and edict that all bishops, priests, and deacons should be put to death. on 6 August, Pope Sixtus II was arrested while celebrating the liturgy and executed. After the execution of Sixtus, the prefect of Rome demanded that Lawrence turn over all the Church's wealth to the emperor. Lawrence asked the perfect for three days to gather up the riches to be handed over.

On the third day, Lawrence led a delegation and presented himself to the Roman prefect. Immediately, the prefect demanded that Lawerence hand over the Church's treasure. Lawerence then proceeded to 'hand over" the Church's treasures: the city's indigent, crippled, blind, and suffering. He did so with these words: "Here are the treasures of the church. You see, the church is truly rich, far richer than your emperor!"

This brazen act led to Lawrence's arrest and execution. While it almost certain that in accordance with Valerian's order, Lawrence, along with Sixtus and all other members of the Roman clergy who arrested and executed, was decapitated, the legend of him being roasted on a gridiron persists. Part of this legend is Lawrence taunting his Roman executioners by telling them they could turn him over because he was done on one side.

The Basilica of Saint Lawrence Outside the Walls is one of five papal basilicas in Rome. The basilica stands on the site of Saint Lawrence's grave, where the Emperor Constantine built a small oratory early in the fourth century. Later, during that same century, Pope Damasus I, who had served as a deacon at the original oratory, restored and/or rebuilt this edifice. Pope Pelagius II built a church on the site in the 580s.

Most recently, the basilica was bombed in 1943 during World War II and rebuilt by 1948. Five popes are buried in San Lorenzo fuori le mura, the most of recent of whom is Pope Pius IX (a.k.a., Pio Nono), who called and presided over the First Vatican Ecumenical Council in 1870. He died in 1878.

Choosing the better part

Reading: Genesis 18:1-10a; Psalm 15:2-5; Colossians 1:24-28; Luke 10:38-42

Today's readings contain a lot. It's one of those Sundays when perhaps the readings are too rich, too deep, too full. Both the Old Testament reading and the Gospel feature a meal. Both feature service and preparation of the meal. Of course, since it is the source and summit of our faith, this quite naturally and rightly prompts some thoughts about the Eucharist.

In our Gospel, the one serving complains to the Lord about her sister who is just sitting there, listening to Him. Jesus gives a beautiful "No" to Martha's request that He tell Mary to get up and go help her. He says no by pointing out that Mary has chosen the better thing to do and that He won't deprive her of it. In other words, He isn't going to tell Mary "Get up and go help your sister." Prayer and contemplation matter greatly.

Christian worship and service should be rooted in prayer and contemplation. The fact prayer and contemplation are often not the wellspring of liturgy and ministry is as obvious as it is sad. The Lord Himself gives us the priority. Wheher you're comfortable with it or not, the Lord calls you to have deeply personal relationship with Him.

Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, Johannes Vermeer, 1655

By the very nature of our vocation, deacons are Marthas. In fact, both times the word "serving" appears in verse 40 of the tenth chapter of Luke, it is a translation of the Greek verb meaning "to deacon," that is, "to serve" (first diakonian- literally Martha was "pulled about through service" and diakonein- literally her sister "left" Martha to be the only one "serving").

It's easy when serving as deacon of the Mass to get caught up in what needs to be done, ensuring what needs to happen happens when its supporse to happen, etc., while trying to stay a step ahead. Even so, how a deacon moves, when he moves, the body labguage of his movement should reflect a genuine diaconal spirituality, which, like any genuinely Christian spiriuality, must be rooted in prayer.

Because we live a culture and society that values doing over being all of us Marthas virtually all the time. This is one reason why the practice of lectio divina is vitally important. For deacons, along with Liturgy of the Hours, the Holy Rosary, and the Examen, lectio divina is a vital spirtual discipline.

In my view, especially reflecting on Eucharist and prayer, the key phrase from today's readings is found neither in the Gospel nor in the reading Genesis, Rather, it is found in our reading from Colossians: "Christ in you." Not only is Christ in you (in me) "the hope for glory," it is "the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past." It is this mystery all Christians are called to reveal through our lives.

Christ comes to be in you (in me) by the power of the Holy Spirit. This is precisely why Jesus ascended and then sent the Spirit. Otherwise, He could be close to you but not in you. Before the Lord comes to be present in you through your reception of the Holy Communion, He makes Himself present in you aurally by the proclamation of Sacred Scripture. The Word is to become flesh in and through you and me. This is what makes the Church Christ's Body.

Melchizedek: A Christophany

Melchizedek, the King of Salem, is a priest unlike any other priest. "Salem" is a translation of the Hebrew שלם, which transliterates to shalem. Closely related to the more familar shalom, shalem means to make whole or complete. Therefore, shalem sometimes refers to making proper restitution.

It is to Melchizedek that Abram (not yet Abraham) gave a tenth of everything. The "everything" was what Abram looted while rescuing Lot, his nephew, who had been abducted. This tithe is made by Abram after Melchizedek blesses him in the wake of his offering of bread and wine. Salem is mentioned in Psalm 76 as the place where God's tabernacle was located. This tabernacle preceded the building of Solomon's temple. Indicating that Jerusalem was a sacred place well before there were any Israelites.

Apart from Genesis 14, in the whole of Sacred Scripture, Melchizedek is mentioned only in Psalm 110, our Responsorial, and in Hebrews 7. It is in Hebrews that there is one priest who is not only like Melchizedek but who is greater than Melchizedek, just as Melchizedek was greater than Levi (more on this in a minute).

As the inspired author Hebrews notes, being "Without father, mother, or ancestry, without beginning of days or end of life," Melchizedek is "thus made to resemble the Son of God, he remains a priest forever" (Hebrews 7:3). As it turns out, Jesus is not a priest in the line of Melchizedek. Melchizedek has no priestly line. He is a one-off. Rather, Melchizedek is a priest sorta like Christ.

The Sacrifices of Melchizedek, Abel, and Abraham. Mosaic from the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna.

For Israel, the priestly line were descendents of Jacob's son Levi. Moses and Aaron were both Levites. While the tribe of Levi was a priestly tribe, there was a subset of Levites, the descendents of Aaron, who were the priests. Kohen (the familiar Jewish last name "Cohen") is the Hebrew word for priest. Hence, the subset of Levites who were the descendents of Aaron, known as the Kohanim, were the priestly caste. The other Levites, like Zechariah, John the Baptist's father, assisted the Kohanim. This is why, from patristic times, Levites are often corrolated with deacons.

Melchizedek's appearance in Genesis is a Christophany. As a priest "of God Most High," he is, as previously noted, a priest kinda like Jesus. In no way is he more like Jesus than in his offering of bread and wine. We can add to that his role as King of Salem- the king of wholeness and of perfect restitution. Finally, his not being a Levite. Melchizedek was not even an Israelite, as there was no such thing according to the chronology of Genesis, is another important parallel.

Jesus himself was not a Levite. This is perhaps the major issue the inspired author of Hebrews is seeking to explain in the book's seventh chapter (see the whole of Hebrews 7). Jesus was from the tribe of Judah. Yet, He becomes a priest forever, our great High Priest. As such, unique and singular. Melchizedek is a priest sorta like Christ because there is no priest like Jesus Christ. There is nobody who could be a priest like Jesus Christ because no one else is true God and true man. In offering Himself on the altar of the cross, He is both priest and offering.

"If, then, perfection came through the levitical priesthood on the basis of which the people received the law," we read in Hebrews 7, "what need would there still have been for another priest to arise according to the order of Melchizedek, and not reckoned according to the order of Aaron?" Because there was a need for such a priest to arise, there was a change of priesthood. "When there is a change of priesthood," we read further on, "there is necessarily a change of law as well."

There is only one priesthood. The priesthood of Jesus Christ. Through baptism and confirmation, we participate in His priesthood. Hence, like the Levites and greater Israel, Christians are a priestly people. The participation of those ordained to the ministerial priesthood in the priesthood of Jesus Christ differs in kind and not just degree. But that is a topic for another time.

Where I live, understanding Melchizedek is important.

Call and response

Readings: Isa 6:1-2a.3-8; Ps 138:1-5.7-8; 1 Cor 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

Taken together, our readings for this Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time in Year C of the Sunday cycle are about vocation, being called by God. Vocare is a Latin verb best translated as to call. Audire in Latin means "to hear" whereas obedire, from which derive the word "obedience," means to listen to, to heed, to hearken unto, if you want sound traditionally "biblical" in English.

To be realized, a call needs a response. You can hear something and not respond. At least in terms of Christian vocation, choosing not to respond is always a possibility. Forcing you to do His will goes against God's very nature. No vocation is inevitable.

In our first reading from Isaiah, the prophet's call is mystically and dramatically set forth. Note that the call is given in the form of two questions: "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" The response? "Here I am... send me!" In the NABRE translation, note the exclamation point at end of the response.

As this passage from Isaiah shows, prior to that, the one who responds is not worthy of the call. Hence the Christian cliche, "God doesn't call the qualified. He qualifies the called." As a wise mentor once said to me, "You're not worthy. Get over it."

In our reading from 1 Corinthians, in addition to containing what we can call the earliest known creed, Paul writes obliquely about his own call and response, including his own unworthiness to be called as an apostle. Now, keep in mind, an apostolos is one who is sent. Again, in Christian terms, it means one who is sent by Christ to bear witness to what s/he has seen and/or heard.

I write "s/he" because, for scriptural reasons, Saint Mary Magdalene is revered as "the apostle to the apostles." Paul felt he was unworthy of his call because, as we know from the Acts of the Apostles, he was a zealous persecutor of the Church. He even had blood on his hands.

Our Gospel is Jesus' call of his first followers. Apparently, Jesus had convinced Peter, James, and John to let him use their boat to teach the people. It seems equally as apparent that, according to the inspired author of Luke, these fishermen not only heard, but listened to Jesus' message. After teaching, Jesus told them to put out into the deep water, a command they obey. After protesting that they had fished all night and caught not a fish, these fisherman also acquiesced when he told them to lower their nets into the water.

Used under Creative Commons License courtesy of Gospel Images

After hauling in their massive "catch," Peter realized that this was no ordinary man, not even the extraordinary man to whose teaching they listened, but someone to be heeded, hearkened unto, followed. According to this inspired account, "they left everything and followed him." Peter follows the pattern of heeding the call despite his declared unworthiness.

While Catholics don't generally use these categories, when it comes to salvation, there are what might be characterized as three movements: redemption, justification, and sanctification. Simplistically, all are redeemed by Christ. All who accept the redemption he wrought are justified. Those who are justified are now being sanctified, made holy, becoming more and more like Christ. At root, this is the basic Christian vocation: to be made holy through cooperation with God's grace, using the ordinary means of grace to become more like Christ through the ordinary circumstances of your life.

My calling is to be a deacon. What does it mean for me to be a "better" deacon? Is it even possible? Because I am a deacon by ordination, I am a deacon by God's grace. So, this is God's doing, not mine. Hence, my call is a call to serve others.

Unsurprisingly, when I look at the late Cardinal Avery Dulles' Models of Church, I am most drawn to the servant model. Like justification theories and even Balthasar's eccelsiology, it isn't about picking the "best" model. The Church, the Body of Christ, is an irreducibly complex, multifaceted, reality. And so, each "model" has its place and the Church can't be reduced to one. This is also why ecclesia semper reformanda is perennial.

Elsewhere in Luke's Gospel, Jesus tells the Tweleve "I am among you as one who serves" (Luke 22:27). One who serves in Koine Greek is a diaknon. And so, translated literally, Jesus says, "I am among you as a deacon."

Diakonia is not only for deacons. The call to service is inherent being a Christian. As I have written before, just as there is a priesthood of the baptized, there is also a diaconate of the baptized. In his first encyclical letter Deus Caritas Est, Pope Benedict XVI insisted:

The Church's deepest nature is expressed in her three-fold responsibility: of proclaiming the word of God (kerygma-martyria), celebrating the sacraments (leitourgia), and exercising the ministry of charity (diakonia). These duties presuppose each other and are inseparable. For the Church, charity is not a kind of welfare activity which could equally well be left to others, but is a part of her nature, an indispensable expression of her very being (sec. 25a)

This call to be charitable, that is, the call to self-sacrificing service, is not subject to political changes or governmental whim. It is a call to serve the least among us, to care for those who are most vulnerable to oft-changing winds.

Discerning means choosing

Today is the last day of January 2025. While January started soft and quietly for me, it quickly turned into a time of intense discernment. This was precipitated by two quite unexpected proposals.

These proposals forced me not just to discern about them or between them, as they were mutually exclusive, but to step back and take a broader view of my life, where I am and where I am going, not to mention where I feel I should go and where I want to go over the next few years. While painful and time consuming, this was a good thing. It was painful because, as is the case with discernment, I had to make some decisions. This was inescapable because choosing not to decide would still have been to make a choice.

These decisions are important because as I prepare to turn 60 this year, whatever I decided hugely impacts the rest of my life, particularly in terms of finanical security. Needless to say, I did a lot of back-and-forth, discussed various possibilities, pros and cons, wants and needs with my wife. I also consulted with a few other trusted people.

As with any true discernment, all of this was about deciding between good things. At root, the issue with discernment is any choice you make for a good thing contains a decision to forego other good things. Once decided, there is always that pesky risk of wondering What if? Frankly, I am sure I will wonder that at times. Such is life.

It's good that such decisions are not only about what I want or how choices might impact me. Being married, having children, and supporting my wife in being responsible for an elderly parent, must factor in. Having to think about and give loving consideration to others, at least for me, grounds life. As does being a member of the clergy.

Being a deacon, which makes me a man of the Church, brings forth the consideration of how best to serve Christ. Best serving Christ means best serving His Church. Nonetheless, another aspect of this discernment that came to the fore is a theological one. Even more specifically, an ecclesiological one. It is about distinguishing between the Church as the mystical Body (or, to go De Lubacian- the true Body) of Christ and the institutional Church.

Now, it's impossible to make a hard-and-fast distinction that results in a complete separation of the sacramental from the mundane, the earthly from the heavenly, the divine and the human (oftentimes all too human). I think there has to be some overlap, even if at times it is very thin even to the point of not being very perceptible. Isn't this, after all, the nature of sacraments? And isn't the Church "the universal sacrament of salvation"? (Lumen Gentium, sec. 48)

What is the Eucharist if not transsubstantiated bread and wine that appears to the casual observer no different after consecration than before? And so, while one has to exercise due caution, making that ecclesiological distinction provided me with a key to unlocking what I should do. It wasn't serving the Church but how best to serve while taking my family, my life, and my circumstances into consideration.

Looking out for my future, which is also my wife's future, as well as impacting our children, is very important. Like most people, while I don't ever envision a time when I will do nothing, I do look forward to the day when I no longer have to "go to work" as a matter of necessity. At the end of the day, there was only one path that led to that destination. It will take me a few more years to get there.

One thing was for certain: I couldn't stand at the four-pronged fork in the road for very long. As the title of that old Gospel song put it: "You Got to Move." Larry Howard, Glenn Kaiser, and Darrell Mansfield sing our traditio for this final Friday of January 2025:

Ordination Anniversary

Today was the first time this year that I was tempted to deviate from my plan. As it turns out, my saving grace in this regard, is sacramental grace. Specifically, the sacramental grace of ordination. Today, the Memorial of Saint Francis de Sales, marks the twenty-first anniversary of my ordination as deacon.

Diocese of Salt Lake City, Deacon Class of 2004

Along with 23 other men, then-Bishop George H. Niederauer of Salt Lake City (later archbishop of San Francisco, which was then my diocese's Metropolitan See until 2023), by the laying on of hands, conferred on me the sacrament of orders by ordaining me a deacon. Along with being married, the birth of my children, and my own baptism (/confirmation/communion- 14 April 1990), this was a major event in my life. From that day forward, I have striven to be a man of service, albeit a very imperfect one. Nothing brings my flaws to the fore like pastoral ministry.

For the first eleven-and-a-half years of my diaconate, I served at The Cathedral of the Madeleine. For the past 9.5 years, I have served at Saint Olaf parish, located in the town where I live. Serving as a deacon is both my privilege and my pleasure.

Over the ensuing twenty-one years, nine members of my class have died. To the surviving members: Ad multos anos! I'm currently in a season of discernment. I don't mind saying that I find it rather uncomfortable but feel like I should find it exciting. In your kindness, say a prayer for me.

Our traditio is Tom Jones singing "Burning Hell" off his 2010 album Praise and Blame:

"Deacon Jones please pray for me!"

Deacons in the Synod Synthesis Report

The past few days I have had the opportunity to start reading XVI General Ordinary Assembly of the Synod of Bishops Synthesis Report- A Church in Mission. It is a synthesis of the first of two gatherings in Rome. The second is scheduled for next October. I have not yet had the chance to read through the entire report. As you might guess, my attention immediately went to that part of the report that deals with the diaconate.

I will start by mentioning that I found it somewhat gratifying to see in
PART I- UNDER SYNODALITY: EXPERIENCE AND UNDERSTANDING Proposals

n) There is a need to find ways to involve the clergy (deacons, priests, bishops) more actively in the synodal process during the course of the next year. A synodal Church cannot do without their voices, experiences or contributions. We need to understanding [sic] better the reasons why some have felt restraint to the synodal process

My gratification, however, is tempered by a critical observation: At least as it pertains to deacons and to priests serving as pastors (i.e., parish priests), more or less excluding them from the Roman Synod needs to be seen as a lost opportunity. Therefore, at least a partial answer to how the Church can involve parish priests and deacons is to, well, involve us in every phase of the process, not to the exclusion of others but being included along with others. It seems that a Francis-led gathering of this sort would prioritize pratictioners over theoreticians.

The diaconate is taken up in PART II – ALL DISCIPLES, ALL MISSIONARIES 11. Deacons and Priests in a Synodal Church (pages 24-26). My comments on this part of the Synthesis track along the same lines as the comments I made for an Our Sunday Visitor article by Maria Wiering: "Permanent deacons have 'unique perspective' to offer at synod, they say" published last summer.

The absence of deacons is evident in Part II section 11 g-i. These sections dealing with the diaconate are more or less a catalog and rehash of known issues and seem to be set forth with little or no awareness that significant work has been and is being done in all of them. It really breaks no new ground whatsoever but repeats what we see over and over again when it comes to the present state of the diaconate as addressed in Church documents.

I feel quite certain that the perspective of knowledgeable and experienced deacons would have resulted in a much better treatment. A better treatment would set the table for a fruitful year of discussion between now and the gathering in Rome next autumn.

I also see II. 11.h that states the need for the Church to see "permanent deacons" as the diaconate's "primary form" in an effort "to understand that diaconate first and foremost in itself" as a reason for hope.

But in light of this, I have to ask, where is the consideration of the need to divorce a Catholic understanding of the sacrament of orders from the cursus honorum, the origins of which lie in the Roman imperium? The Council's recommendation that the Church ordain married men to permanently serve as deacons and Paul VI's acceptance of this recommendation was a big step in this direction. In my mind, this issue needs to be seriously engaged, at least in the Latin Church, before there can be a meaningful consideration of admitting women to the diaconate.

Building on the above, how does a "transitional" diaconate, which is only a canonical (as opposed to sacramental) category, hinder any understanding of the diaconate "in itself" and not reduce it to "a stage of access to the presbyterate"? Does the transitional diaconate contribute to an understanding, even sometimes a self-understanding, of permanent deacons as holding either a truncated priesthood or being a highly visible lay person?

In addition to deacons being absent from the Synod, parish priests were not really represented either. In light of the ironic comment about finding ways to involve us, it's important for us not to see this as something someone "up there" dreamt up that we will need to implement. This is an important if pedestrian observation. I am aware that, ideally, this isn't how synodality works. But programs aren't how evangelism works either, but look how many of them there are! Trust me, there will be programs.

This also brings up the important question as to what instruments of synodality already exist. It seems to me that one outcome of this excursion into synodality is that dioceses should really focus on developing well-functioning pastoral councils, liturgy committees, and finance committees at both diocesan and parish levels, school boards for Catholic schools, etc. These are instruments of synodality and, when done correctly, in co-responsibility. While formally these are "advisory," it seems that pastors and administrators should more or less bind themselves to what these committees recommend unless there is a really good reason not to do so in a specific instance.

Circling back to the diaconate in particular, section II.11.g of the Synthesis betrays what I can only call ignorance of what constitutes the heart of the diaconate according to the Second Vatican Council. This the Council set forth in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: Lumen Gentium sec. 29. According to this magna carta of the restored/renewed diaconate, diaconal ministry is constituted by the threefold munera of liturgy, word, and charity. Part II, 11.g of the Synod Synthesis Document seems to reduce diaconal ministry only to the munera of charity.

In II.11.g. the Synod seeks to make a fairly valid point- deacons aren't [just] substitutes for a shortage of priests. What it neglects is the concrete situation in many local churches that makes this all but inevitable. So, while deacons are not exclusively substitutes when enough priests aren't available, we certainly can and do help fill that gap. Further, it is appropriate for us to do so. To suggest otherwise is to put some kind of abstraction over current and future pastoral reality and the needs of people as well as unduly squelch the diaconate.

At least on my reading, what this section winds up doing is reducing and unduly restricting the ministry of deacons by positing a dichotomy between diakonia/munera of liturgy and charity leaving out altogether the ministry of the word. This strikes me as quite a fundamental misapprehension, one that will not help clarify or build a solid theology of the diaconate and may well serve to harm the many efforts underway.

Speaking of my own personal experience as a deacon for 20 years, I grow weary of what I have taken to calling the "Hegelian approach" to the diaconate. What does that mean? It means always defining the diaconate by what it is not. More often than not this boils down to either a misunderstanding of the restored/renewed diaconate as intended by the Council, which means either being ignorant of or simply ignoring the extensive and deep pre-conciliar positive case for the diaconate as a permanent order of sacred ministry, or, sadly, animus towards the diaconate, or, as you might guess, a combination of the two.

Next up, a brief post the Synod Synthesis Document and clericalism.

Malachi & Jesus against clericalism & a Pauline solution

Readings: Malachi 1:4b-2:2b.8-10; Ps 131:1-3; 1 Thessalonians 2:7b-9.13; Matthew 23:1-12

Our readings for this Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time are very harmonious. Fundamentally, they are about pastoral leadership among God's People. It is actually our New Testament reading, taken from 1 Thessalonians, that gives us the model for pastoral leadership. Likely written about AD 50, it bears noting that in addition to being an authentically Pauline letter (i.e., it was written by Saint Paul), 1 Thessalonians is probably the first book of the New Testament to be written- its only rival for this distinction is 1 Corinthians.

I also want to point out that, like Jesus, Paul lived the words he preached. He pioneered what today we call "bi-vocational ministry." In other words, in addition to his apostolic ministry, wherever he went, Paul supported himself as a "tent maker," the proprietor of a canvas and awning business.

In light of something I posted on another platform this morning, it's interesting that these are the readings for today. Or, perhaps, it was these readings coupled with an experience I had this past week that drove me to post what I posted. It's a chicken and egg scenario. It would be easy, oh so easy, to address these readings in a way that ignores the elephant in the room.

What is this elephant? The elephant is clericalism. Clericalism is something that Pope Francis has been addressing since the beginning of his pontificate (see Daniel P. Horan's "Pope Francis reminds us — again — to reject clericalism"). So, it's been a focal point in the Church for more than a decade. The most likely way to ignore the elephant is to fast forward to the end of the Gospel and apply it to the assembly at large. But the target of these readings, if I may use that term, or, less stridently, those to whom these are directly addressed, is clearly those in Church leadership. This would be a great Sunday for a member of the laity to share a reflection on the readings!

Sadly, I would have to say, on the whole, clericalism is on the rise in the Church in the U.S. Hence, I think in many dioceses a reckoning will occur. I can't say with any certainity what this might look like anywhere, let alone everywhere, but it will happen. Venturing a guess, taking my own twenty years of pastoral experience as the starting point, I think it will look like more of what we already see: steady attrition.

Let's face it, most disaffected people just quietly slip away. Given that it's unlikely their presence is missed and so no one will reach out to them, I think that will be the way it continues to go down. I doubt that most people who leave will reaffiliate. They will probably personally retain vestiges of Catholic belief and practice but it's unlikely these will be handed down to the next generation. Unlike some countries, the United States does not have a deeply Catholic culture, so there aren't many opportunities to participate in public processions and the like.

In thinking about retaining vestiges of Catholic belief and practice, I recalled reading about John Waters' (Irish writer) Dad, an Irish postal worker. His Dad didn't go to Church and was, understandably for anyone of his generation in Ireland, quite anti-clerical. Nonetheless, he prayed the Rosary every night. Another example that comes to mind is Edith Piaf's lovely devotion to the Little Flower, which followed this same contour.

A mosaic in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome depicts Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. Shutterstock

While there are other factors that contribute to clericalism, a leading one is current programs of priestly formation. It seems to me that in many seminaries formation in priestly identity has regressed to a largely pre-Vatican II understanding. The trend now is for men to enter priestly formation younger than was the trend for several decades. This is neutral in and of itself, but this makes seminarians much more impressionable, thus making what they're taught more important.

A friend of mine, who is not a priest and who teaches in a seminary, told me about the seminary having a visiting professor several years ago for a semester. The visiting professor was a priest-theologian from France who had done a lot of work on theology and cinema. All of the students in the seminary's theologate had to take his seminar on theology and cinema. At the first seminar, one seminarian protested, asking why he had to take this "stupid" class when they should be studying weightier matters. The visiting Prof. responded calmly, "My dear boy, in France nobody goes to Mass but everyone goes to the movies."

A priest friend of mine, someone who embodies the kind of priesthood we should be creating, shared his experience of studying some years ago in Spain. He noted that, especially during Holy Week, huge crowds turned out for public processions and exhibited great piety and faith, Christian faith, but on Easter Sunday the churches are as empty as ever. In speaking with his Spanish professors, he learned that it was because people didn't trust the hierarchy of the Church due to their support of Franco. He described this as a "priestless Catholicism" in the streets. You know what? I think that probably sounds really good even to a lot of faithful Catholics right now.

In today's Gospel, Jesus does a total takedown of clericalism. Make no mistake about who both today's Old Testament reading and Gospel are talking to and about. How many Catholics are aware that calling priests "Father" is a relatively recent development? So many clerical honorifics! Jumping down to verse 11 of the twenty-third chapter of Saint Matthew's Gospel, Jesus repeats what for him, according to the Synoptics, is a common refrain: "The greatest among you must be your servant."

In Greek, the last word of Matthew 23:11 is diakonos. So, "the greatest among you must be your deacon." Probably the best title the Pope bears, one Francis seems to take seriously, is "Servant of the Servants of God"- Deacon of the Deacons.

One reason for the restored/renewed diaconate, being at what Lumen Gentium calls "the lower level of the hierarchy," is to work in this gap (sec. 29). I often think we're not doing this as well as we might. At least in some instances, because we're not allowed to. At a more theological level, in the Latin Church, the restored and renewed diaconate certainly rocked the cursus honorum, a huge shift that has yet to fully resonate theologically, that is, ecclesiologically.

Service as a healing gift: getting outside myself

As it turns out, I can't quite wait until 2 June to resume blogging. In light of my recent struggles, which I noted in my previous post, I have to say that getting outside of myself is quite helpful. On Thursday morning, as I was working from home, my phone rang. To my shame, I thought it was my wife calling me for the third time in rapid succession. Resisting the temptation, to just pick up my phone, swipe, and say something like the gentle but slightly annoyed spousal, "What now?," I looked and saw that it was a call from Bishop Solis, my bishop.

Because I serve as the Director of the Office of the Diaconate, I have responsibility for both permanent deacons and those in formation to be deacons. Hence, I thought my bishop was probably calling me about a clergy personnel matter. So, managing a polite, "Hello, bishop," he asked me if I was available to accompany him on a trip to Southern Utah. He informed me that if I was available, we would need to leave in two hours. I was able to quickly make some arrangements at home and work and go with him.

On Thursday we traveled from Salt Lake City to St. George, Utah. Arriving in the late afternoon, we stayed in the parish rectory with Frs. Dave Bittemann and Tristan Dillon. We spent a pleasant evening together, going to dinner and enjoying some light conversation. After dinner, I stayed up very late talking with Fr Bittemann, a wonderful priest, with whom I served at the Cathedral years ago right after he was ordained.

The next day, I had most of the day to myself. It was very nice. After dropping the bishop at the golf course, where he'd been invited by some parishioners of St. George Parish to play, I went on a nice hike on a lovely desert trail. It was the kind of alone time that is truly healing, not more unhealthy self-isolation. This was a time when my heart was more attuned to gratitude than resentment. I then joined the bishop, Fr Dillon, and the bishop's golfing partners for lunch.

After a post-lunch rest, we celebrated Confirmation for 85 young people. The Mass was a beautiful, bi-lingual celebration. The rather large church was full. The Confirmation Mass was followed by a very nice catered dinner. During my time at the dinner, I was able to speak with the deacons assigned to St. George and one of our aspirants to the diaconate who will be made a Candidate for the Sacrament of Orders by Bishop Solis this coming Saturday. I also met and spoke with several wonderful parishioners.

Arising early on Saturday morning, I drove the bishop to the small farming community of Milford, Utah. There, in St. Bridget's Church, we celebrated Confirmation for around 25 young people from the pastoral area. This large area consists of Milford, Delta, Fillmore, and Beaver. This local church is capably served by Fr. Marco Lopez, who is from El Salvador. He is a wonderful priest who serves his people very well. He is a very kind, gentle, and energetic pastor.

La misa celebrada en español. Tuve un buen opportunidad para practicar español con la gente amable de la parroquia. Once again, the Church was packed. After a wonderful lunch at the home of a very nice family, the bishop and I headed back south to Christ the King Parish in Cedar City. There we celebrated Confirmation, appropriately enough on the Vigil of Pentecost, for another roughly 30 young people.

Following the reception in Cedar City, I drove the bishop 250 miles back to Salt Lake City. I arrived home myself at about 12:45 AM. It was a lot of fun jamming to the music of Carlos Santana driving late at night with my bishop!

Why do I post all this? Well, it ties back to my starting point of how getting outside of myself often helps with what otherwise debilitates me. I realize this may sound like a cliché. But for those who are afflicted with what sometimes afflicts me, it is no easy thing to get outside of yourself. This is true even as I recognize that it would "probably" help. My bishop's call was a godsend. Serving my bishop and the wonderful people of our diocese for two-and-a-half straight days was such a privilege and so helpful to me.

In my experience, this is how God's grace works, that is, in ordinary and yet unexpected ways. My bishop's phone call came out of the blue! Having traveled like this with my bishop before, I was once again able to see how his life is almost totally dedicated to self-giving service. While he gets physically tired sometimes, he serves with such joy and fervor. He is a great example to me. Putting some physical distance between myself and my everyday life also helps me gain some perspective on my perceived troubles. Who knows? I may be able to preach again soon. We'll see how things go.

In addition to this post, I have another one coming this week. It will contain some interesting and exciting ecclesiastical news.

Blogging, the Holy Spirit, deacons, and Mother's Day

Things here have been very dormant as of late. Life takes priority over blogging. Nonetheless, I miss writing posts. I have every intention of resuming. I even intend to resume posting more than homilies and reflections on Mass readings. I am taking a pass again this week, however.

The thing that strikes me about today's Gospel is what a deep pnuematology Jesus lays out in this snippet from John's Last Supper Discourse. It is a wonderful opportunity to unpack what it means to be Spirit-filled.

Speaking of Spirit-filled, after last week's reacing about the seven men called by the primitive Church in Jerusalem and set apart for service by the apostles, today picks up a thread of one of those seven: Philip. Remember, there were three criteria set forth for those called: men of good reputation and who were "filled with the Spirit and wisdom" (see Acts 6:3).

We only hear more about two of the seven: Stephen and Philip. Unlike Stephen, who was stoned to death Jerusalem, Philip fled the persecution and went to Samaria. Undaunted, he preached the Gospel, like Stephen. Many responded to his preaching by coming to faith in Christ. If you take these seven men as the first deacons, something done in the Church since at least Irenaeus, who lived from the second into the third century, then, from the beginning, deacons have been evangelists. Today this highlighted by the deacon reading the Gospel at Mass. In the absence of a deacon, a priest reads the Gospel at Mass as a deacon.

Without a doubt, today, many were subjected to a Mother's Day sermon instead of a homily. Oddly, this tends to happen in places where there is a lot of loud protesting about the Church capitulating to the culture. Well, Mother's Day is a secular observance. It's not on the liturgical calendar. Not many Christians in the U.S. conceive of family eschatologically, which stands in contrast to natural/biological family. God's eschatological family really couldn't be much clearer in the Gospels and in the authentically Pauline letters. At least in the U.S., Christians tend to make an idol of family. If not an idol, then settng forth an unrealistically idealized version of family.

I will content myself with a few thoughts barely sketched out today.

Martha: a diaconal figure

Without a doubt Jesus loved both his friends Martha & Mary dearly. But in today's Gospel he's clear about Mary, in that situation, choosing the better part. In fact, by stating that he will not take away the better part from Mary by asking her to get up and help, he mildly rebukes Martha. Now, you can perhaps argue the reason for his rebuke is her complaining. But rebuke her, he does. That Mary chose the better part is really the point of this short pericope.

This is a passage that should resonate with deacons. It should resonate with us not simply because diakonian and diakonein are the Greek words originally used to describe Martha's activity in this passage. It should resonate with deacons because, during the Eucharistic liturgy, like Martha, we have many tasks. In this regard, we need to keep in mind that when serving at the Table of the Lord, we serve in what has been described as persona Christi servi (i.e., in the person of Christ the Servant. It is Jesus, who later in Saint Luke's Gospel, insists he is among them as "one who serves" Luke 22:24-30). So, he is among them as "a deacon" because, in Greek, one who serves in this way is a deacon. Jesus is the model deacon.

Jesus at the home of Martha and Mary, by Johannes Vermeer, 1655

The use of the correct forms of the verb diakonia with regard to Martha are significant. By the same token, the appropriate from of diakonia, which means something like serving at table, would be the ordinary Greek word for what Martha was doing. We have to be careful not to place too much weight on the use of these "deacon words" in this passage. This different from according them no weight. What follows is a section from doctoral disseration about Martha and Mary:

“Burdened” by her table service (in Greek διακονίαν- diakonian), Martha complains to her revered guest, Jesus, that her sister Mary, rather than helping her serve him, is just sitting at his feet, listening to him. Because Jesus is “the servant,” he tells the troubled and anxious Martha that Mary chose the better part. There is a great lesson here concerning diaconal spirituality. It consists precisely in developing the ability to distinguish between serving others in persona Christi servi and letting one’s self be served by the one who came to serve. Being served, in this instance, means taking the time to listen to the Lord. If a deacon does not allow Jesus to minister to him in the manner of Mary, it becomes impossible for that deacon to serve others in the Lord’s name for the building up of God’s kingdom, like Martha.

All three Johannine occurrences of deacon words are found in the twelfth chapter of the fourth Gospel. Again in John 12:2, Martha of Bethany, the same person who serves in the last pericope [from Luke 10] is considered. According to John, in addition being the sister of Mary, Martha is also the sister of Jesus’s good friend, Lazarus. The context in which the deacon word διηκόνει (diakonei, serving) is used as Martha is serving Jesus and her brother as they recline together at table.¹ Once again, it is Mary, Martha’s sister, who renders the Lord fitting service. As Jesus eats, Mary takes “a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard,” anoints Jesus’s feet with it and then dries his feet with her hair. As a result of this extravagant act, the house was filled with a lovely aroma. It is Jesus the anointed One, who anoints us, which is why Paul can exclaim: “For we are the aroma of Christ for God…”² A deacon is not anointed at ordination. Rather, through ordination the anointing received in confirmation is further strengthened so that the deacon can absorb it more deeply and, like Mary, cause the world to be filled with the aroma of Christ for God

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1 Novum Testamentum graece, Luke 10; See John 12:1-11.^↩
2 2 Corinthians 2:15.^↩