In the summer before my ordination to the diaconate, as part of the normal process of preparation for this important step towards priesthood, I was on retreat in Guelph, Canada with a number of other Jesuit scholastics. I had resolved to spend the retreat quietly, avoiding any pressure to write my letter applying for ordination; I would have plenty of time to do that later, I thought. But, as usual, my good intentions and God’s plans were not exactly the same; and so, on a warm July morning I found myself scribbling out the entire letter in a matter of two hours.
It surprised me, as I wrote, how clear (in retrospect) was the Spirit of God in my life—pushing and inviting, writing straight with all the crooked lines I seemed to throw God’s way. Looking back at that letter recently— after so many years—I was struck by the final paragraph. Speaking of my desire for priesthood in the Society of Jesus, I wrote: “I expect that such ministry, if done in the Spirit of Jesus, will lead to crosses and conflicts that I cannot now imagine”; however, I said, “as God’s trajectory of grace has been constant, thus far, I put faith in its continuing.” I never thought I would be quite so right on both counts, for the challenges have been surprising, but looking back I see that the trajectory of grace—begun even before my ordination— has been as true and constant as the love of God always is.
This June we celebrate the ordination to the priesthood of two wonderful men—Dan Mai and Jeff McDougall—and in this we celebrate not just a moment, but a whole “trajectory of grace,” both in their lives and in the life of the Province, the Society, and the Church. For when they stand in the nave of that cathedral in Portland and proclaim, “I am ready and willing,” what they are saying is that their personal histories and the histories of their families and friends, the choices of their parents and grandparents, the challenges and support of their mentors and teachers—all these have brought them to this place in their lives and called them to this moment of surrender and acceptance. And they are willing to trust that these trajectories of grace will continue— not always keeping them in the same old path, but inviting them forward with all the constancy and love of the Spirit of God. For the truth is, vocation is never a single moment, but a whole lifetime of listening and responding to a God who is active (and intrusive) in every moment and in every choice we make. There will be times when they (or we) may not hear God’s voice, and then we must trust the trajectory—hanging on to the grace we remember until a new grace gives us the wisdom to adjust and adapt, to find that newly refined trajectory that will lead us closer to our home.
The Danish philosopher and theologian, Søren Kierkegaärd once said, “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” As Christians, our call to life is a call to fidelity and to trust that the trajectory of grace we see behind us will continue into the future and will lead us through any trouble, any challenge. Whether in our Province, in our nation, or in our private lives, we are invited to trust that God is in all things—even our own histories, even our own futures. We are called to believe that, if we do not succumb to fear but submit ourselves to the movement of God in our hearts, this trajectory of grace will find its mark in the fullness of life that is the reign of God.
John D. Whitney, S.J.
Provincial |
