One bitterly-cold January evening back in the winter of 1992, Sister Irene Loretta, IHM, stood on stage before an auditorium filled with angry parents, sobbing students and a pastor whose disappointment was written across every line of his aging face. It was her job to tell this wealthy suburban Catholic elementary school that come June, St. Barbara’s would be losing the teaching Sisters after more than 75 years of ministry to the community.
From the back of the room, a parent stood and shouted: “Sister, how could you leave us when we are thriving? Now’s NOT the time to leave.” The pastor nodded in agreement.
Sister paused a brief moment before responding, no doubt whispering a prayer to the Holy Spirit. “My dear parents,” she began, “for three generations our Sisters have given our lives to your families. We have loved every minute of our time here, and we have loved your children. I understand you want us to stay, but the truth is: there just aren’t enough Sisters to staff the schools we once did, so we must go.”
From the back again, another upset voice: “But why leave us? We need you.”
“Let me ask you this,” responded Sister, her voice strong but compassionate: “For 75 years we have been here. Not one of you have given your daughters to our community or your sons to the seminary. Did you ever encourage vocations among your children? Did you? (Her voice cracked with emotion here.) Maybe God is opening the door for us to go because no one ever invited our young people to stay with us for the mission.”
The room fell silent. The PTA meeting ended. The Sisters moved on from St. B’s in June of that year.
Sister’s words still ring true all these years later: “Maybe we need to go because no one ever invited others to stay for the mission.”
This coming week, our Church throughout the United States celebrates National Vocation Awareness Week, a time to focus on both the dignity of the call to priesthood and religious life, as well as the current challenge of attracting women and men to consider such a call to serve as priests, sisters, religious brothers and deacons.
St. Barbara’s School is not alone in the tragedy of losing their teaching Sisters. We know from our own parish and diocesan experiences that the number of priests and sisters is falling drastically. The reasons are varied, of course, and beyond the scope of a homily to address. And yet, at the same time, the words of our Lord in both the first reading (from the Book of Deuteronomy) as well as the Gospel of Mark give a roadmap toward finding a solution for the current crisis in which we find ourselves: enjoin the people.
Enjoin: to encourage and command. More specifically: To lay a burden upon one’s shoulders.
An interesting choice of words, isn’t it? Moses enjoins the Israelites to fear the Lord and keep his commands throughout their lives. Jesus echoes the same directive, adding with equal weight the responsibility of caring for one’s neighbor. In other words, we are to love as God loves, and in so doing, we are loving Him in return.
It’s the task asked of all of us as baptized disciples of Christ, and most of us end up doing so in the way we love our spouses and children. When we sacrifice for our families and lay down our lives for them, we are loving God and others with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. That kind of love is Cross-carrying love, and we are enjoined to live it daily in that vocation. It is rarely easy.
Years back, when my then-18-year-old brother was paralyzed in a car accident, I watched as my Mom and Dad carried the cross of their son’s pain, as well as their own. When I asked about the emotion around it all in those early days following the hospitalization and his months-long stay in rehab, my Mom simply responded: “Being a parent changes how you love; it’s no longer about yourself anymore.”
No longer about you.
I wonder, quite honestly, if we stopped using that same understanding with our young people when it comes to religious vocations. Somewhere along the way, we dropped the challenge of offering priesthood and religious life as a beautiful sacrifice of love. We stopped talking about the gift of living spiritual fatherhood and motherhood. And if we mentioned it at all, we more than likely categorized it in the same way we would nursing and teaching, engineering and accounting: another important job that needs to be done for the good of society.
But priesthood and religious life is so much more than a societal good. It’s a pouring-out. It is a dying-to-self for God and others. It is the willingness to carry the Cross of every person who walks through your rectory and convent door.
Like good and holy parenthood, priesthood and religious life is worrying when your children are sick, physically and spiritually. It is seeking them out in both the hospital and the confessional. It is the willingness to teach them the truth about God and life, love and loss. It is listening to broken hearts and serving the ones who may never get their acts together this side of heaven.
Like parenthood, it is not a 9-to-5 job. It is constant, hidden and often-messy. It is sometimes boring and aggravating. It is heart-breaking and fraught with anxiety. And just like parenthood, priesthood and religious life are often misunderstood by the very ones being cared for and loved into the fullness of life.
So why would anyone want to do it?
Deep down, I believe it comes down to this basic-but-vital question: what has God enjoined upon your heart? How are we meant to give our lives away in love?
Most will do so in marriage and raising a family. That’s a beautiful vocation. Yet, at the same time, God hasn’t – nor will He ever – stop calling some from among us to be the ones who journey with others on our collective search for God. He needs courageous men and women to step-up and then be willing to enjoin upon themselves the task of Cross-carrying and worship-leading. He needs spiritual fathers and mothers willing to be other Christs for a world seeking healing, truth and mercy.
Thus, we must all be a part of calling-forth and forming those within whom God has planted seeds of a priestly or religious calling. Every day, pray for the Master to increase labors for His harvest. Be intentional about that: one Hail Mary every day for a future priest or religious who will one day in Paradise thank you for the prayers you offered on his/her behalf.
Secondly, invite. Be bold. While it is true that not every young person you still see in Church has a religious calling, you are ultimately stirring the desire in their hearts to continue on the road to holiness. As the saying goes: if you see something, say something. We never know how God uses us to accomplish His will.
Lastly, if and when you talk about priests and sisters, recognize their humanness and encourage their holiness. Spur them on to continuing to run the race, in the same way you would an exhausted mom or a frustrated dad. When you walk alongside them in their moments of both joy and weariness, they will be willing to walk with others in those very same moments of their lives, too. You never know the effects a happy and holy priest and religious has on the discernment journey of young people who are seeking ways to love both God and neighbor.
As Church, we can’t be afraid or ashamed to invite and challenge our young people to seek fulfillment and love through a life dedicated to Christ and His Church. Let us enjoin them to serve and lay down their lives for others. And may we be the ones always willing to help our priests and religious to carry the crosses that often come with such an outpouring of fatherly and motherly spiritual-love.
When all is said and done, may Sister Irene never have the opportunity to say of us: “Maybe we need to go because no one here ever invited others to join us in the mission.”