On Discipleship

On Discipleship

Seeing the blog this evening of a cyber-friend, Perspective, has finally pushed me over the edge!  I can't be sure how often I'll post, but I hope it will be even more frequently than I did a few years ago.  I think I'll have more time.  

This past Sunday's scriptures were from the story of Isaiah's call (where, after being cleansed, he responds to God with a hearty "Here I am; take me!") and of Jesus calling Simon, James, & John after the miraculous catch of fish (after which they left their boats and followed him).  On the previous weekend I had happened to talk with several of our high school youth about the topic of Discipleship (fortuitous scheduling), and rather than tell them what it should mean for them, I just shared with them what it has meant to me in my life.  It turned into what was, for me, a very significant experience.  

I realized not long afterwards that I should try to do something similar with the weekend's homily.  The following effort is what I came up with.  I'm not sure it's a great homily, but it does say a lot about me, why I've lived my life the way I have.  As always, one always has to pick and choose what to say, within the time limits of a homily... and whatever is written is neither the same as what was spoken nor what was heard. 

February 7th, 2016; Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8 and Luke 5:1-11

I’ve had the pleasure over the last several weeks to spend time with our high schoolers who are preparing to be Confirmed this coming April.  I’ve been to three of the sessions so far, mostly just in a quiet, supportive role, but last Sunday I had the privilege of sharing a few words with them about discipleship, which is what one prepares for in seeking Confirmation.  And rather than tell them all about what I think they should be and do to be a disciple, I just shared about what it means to me.

Well, today’s readings are also all about following God’s call, from the mystical imagery around God’s call to Isaiah and his enthusiastic “Here I am; send me!” to Jesus’ miraculous encounter with fishermen Simon Peter, James, and John, after which they bring their boats to the shore, leave everything, and follow Jesus.  So given the scriptures today, I thought that I would share with you all, what vocation, discipleship -- what that means to me.  Until last June, I worked full-time within the Church for 46 years, 32 of them here at St. Bridget, and as an ordained deacon here for 26, so I … have one or two things to say..

The first thing I want to make clear, though, is that I do not hold myself up or consider myself a model for discipleship.  At best I could only be considered a very imperfect model.  In fact, I am almost like an anti-model, a guy who has had to keep trying things until he got it right.

When I was young, I don’t remember much even thinking about the word “disciple” -- it wasn’t a word one used much, even in church.  But I did want to be the best person I could be!  My parents taught me that; my Catholic schools taught me that.  And that meant loving God with all my heart and mind and soul and strength!  And I prayed that God would help me do that.  And it also meant loving my neighbor as myself, which meant for me, living out the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. 

In the 1950s and early 60s, doing those things meant being a priest or a nun -- at least, that was how it came across.  Now I thought about being a priest at many times during high school, and actually would have entered the Jesuit seminary after high school except for my dad -- who insisted that I had to go to a co-ed University -- away from home -- for at least two years.  (pause) That took care of that.  I still thought about seriously about becoming a priest on a couple of times after that, but it was never the same.

But, think about that for a minute.  Sometimes when we want to do something, especially some work, that we think God wants us to do, the road is blocked, or the answer is seems to be NO.  Does that mean we can say, “OK God, looks like we’re good for now, let me know for sure the next time you want me, OK?”  No.  What it probably does mean is “keep listening.”  It doesn’t mean the No will turn to Yes… but it might turn into something else.

Now, I’m sure that in high school many of you had somebody in your class who was really good in math and science, particularly math.  You knew that guy, right?  Well, I WAS that guy in my school.  So I was marked -- I had a talent.  In fact, I just had my 50^th high school reunion back in St. Louis, in October -- you don’t know how many people were completely dumbfounded that I was a Catholic deacon and had worked for the church ever since college.  But what happened to me then was that I still was that person who wanted to love God and do God’s work, and I was still listening.  But by the time I was leaving college, I had few other answers except to continue on into grad school, probably following my talents in math.  I had a romantic interest, but no plans.  So instead, God decided to see if I really was listening…and one afternoon in my senior year had me encounter a Jesuit by the name of Fr. Jack Morris, showing slides in the student about becoming a Jesuit Volunteer and going to Alaska were it was 30 below, and teaching school for room and board and $5 a month.  And you know… I just knew that this was the path God was holding out to me.  And I never looked back; never used those math talents professionally -- though they’re good for helping kids with homework.

Now I wish things were so simple that we could make one huge major life decision and then the rest of your life would simply unfold like it’s supposed too.  Maybe it is that way for some people, but it’s never been that way for me.  Everything I chose to do was good work, but I couldn’t find where I was being called.  God’s answer was always, “Just trust, take another step.”  Not a lot of explanation!  So after teaching high school in Alaska I went on to a reservation in eastern Montana, teaching in a poor school in an isolated area:  St. Paul’s Mission in Hays.  After that I was invited to come to Portland to help run the Volunteer Corps itself.  I eventually came here to Seattle and began working at ImmaculateConception parish in the central area, working with their food bank, emergency needs, doing a little community organizing.  My wife Joan is part of this story too, but I won’t say much more about that, except to say that we were Jesuit Volunteers together, and have shared so many values together now for over 40 years. 

Part of those values involved where we lived; after a couple of years on our own, we moved into the Catholic Worker community, and as our common work the community ran the Family Kitchen at St. James Cathedral, a free meal for women, families, and the elderly, which lasted for over 30 years until it was finally turned over to the Cathedral.  We also offered short-term emergency housing in our home -- and believe me, when you have the poor under your roof with you, you understand better what it’s like to be poor.  As Catholic Workers we also shared a strong resistance to war, and were very much a part of the protests of that era against the Trident submarines based in Bangor.

But it all finally unraveled when we realized we could no longer live within the community because we had three children and it was just getting too hectic with all these activities.  Without the community, it would cost us substantially more to live.  I could no longer afford to work at an inner city parish for poverty wages.  And I was listening, asking God, what’s the next step?  I looked at a variety of jobs, even asked friends for suggestions… and one of them was Nove Meyers, who was leaving the job of religious education director here at St. Bridget.  I had never studied or trained for religious education, but I did know the pastor here…Fr. Muehe.  And when we met to discuss the job, he only said “Den, I’m not worried about you doing that job, but I have another job I think you can do at the same time…” 

And friends, you know what that job was.  It was something I had never thought about, never considered even as a possibility.  I didn’t know the job was open, and I had never been trained for it.  But that job was to be the Catholic chaplain at Children’s Hospital.  It was something I was completely unprepared for… and something that took me some time to get used to… but I knew it was perfect for me from the very first day.  It only took me 35 years to figure it out!

Now, there is a closing to this homily, but I can’t write it yet.  You see, I’m not done.  I’m just getting started trying to figure out what it means to be a disciple when you’re partly retired.  I’m not so sure I’m doing a good job.  But I’m listening.  I’m listening every day.

I’d like to close with my favorite prayer.  For years, this was on my bulletin board in my office, and it’s by Thomas Merton.  It’s helped me reach much peace and trust over the years.

My Lord God,

I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will 

does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.

And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Thomas Merton