Catholic Faith and Reflections

Nearly ten years ago, the Church celebrated the Jubilee Year of Deacons. I liken it to this year’s Year of the Priest. I was reading a homily of Cardinal J. Francis Stafford, then President of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, which he delivered on February 19, 2000 regarding the life, family and spirituality of the diaconate.

In it, he speaks of the deacon’s vocation to be  a “confessor” of the faith. A confessor is one who is cast forth on a road filled with danger, like a lamb among wolves.  Here is segment of the homily:

“The Sacrament of Baptism configures the deacon in his freedom to the passion, death and resurrection of the Lord….. The Vocation of a deacon is to be a “confessor” of the faith.  He seeks to revive this ancient title in democratic modernity.  He searches for that sanctity which informs the inner life of the university, of politics, of economics, of marriage and family.

“…. during his ordination the deacon was entrusted with the  Blood of Christ. Central to the deacon/confessor’s anthropology is his self-awareness in Christ crucified… 

“In the early and medieval Church a confessor was one who suffered for confessing the faith, but was not called to martyrdom. The term applied to holy persons….

“On the threshold of a new millennium, a confessor is one who has been cast forth, handed over by God. Where has he  been cast forth? On the road he has chosen, on the road he has hurled himself on. The deacon/confessor has cast himself forth into the heart of danger like a lamb among wolves. The road of the poor and outcast, not simply the altar, is his vocation. And at every curve  and bend of that road he will find challenges and suffering. St. Paul would describe it as warfare. The deacon’s walk is a heroic one. For the cup of blessing which he ministers is a participation in the Blood of Christ.

“…. Thus the deacon discovers that persecution constitutes the normal condition of the Church in her relation to the world. That is why the deacon is cast forth in hope.”

Our calling compels us to be willing to be hurled forth into the dangers of the contemporary human condition, that is, to be Icons of Jesus Incarnate, who hurled himself into a sinful world to redeem it.

Something to think about — confessors of the faith, sharers in the persecutions of Christ — whenever we elevate the Precious Blood of our Lord at Eucharist.

Much is written about diaconal kenosis, that is, radical self-emptying, self-donation for the sake of the other in the manner of Jesus who emptied himself of all trappings of his divinity in taking on our flesh for our salvation. This kenotic outpouring of a deacon’s life then is a reflection of the Trinitarian life of God Himself. God is so giving of himself, Father to Son and Son to Father that the Holy Spirit is present and the Triune God is revealed.

The thought that a deacon’s spirituality draws him into divine Trinitarian life reminds us of the dignity and depth of diaconal life. We share in the priesthood of Jesus Christ by our self-sacrifice, our self-effacement for the sake of others.

It demands we develop a spirit of humility and authority that are profound but without imposition. We seek not honors or titles or grand placement. We must put aside our egos. We become Icons of Jesus the Servant.

A deacon is kenotic in his service at the Eucharistic altar but most especially in the hidden moments of service to the poor and the forgotten. A deacon is truly deacon when he ministers in the background.

Our authority comes from our bishop. And we need speak boldly when proclaiming the Gospel in the liturgical assembly and when we preach the Word in homily. No time for timidness here. Our bishop sends us forth to preach and teach. But we must  remember that we are merely the sound, the voice, not the Word. Our voices must evaporate after we have proclaimed the Word who takes up residence in the hearer.

We diminish as Jesus grows.

The Holy Spirit renders our lives effective if we are attuned to the Word of the Father, and as bearers of that Word, we revere the Father who sends us forth. Our spirituality gives witness in this way to the life of the Trinity.

God help us in this wonderful vocation.

Being a relatively new deacon, I have been pondering how to describe in a concise manner the spirituality of the diaconate, its relationship to marital spirituality for us married deacons, and its common elements with our brother clergy the priests and bishops.

I am not sure I have gotten too far with all of that.

I know that others are working on the identity of the deacon as it is being experienced in the world today, and the theology of the diaconate vis a vis the Church’s history of the diaconate both in the Latin and Eastern Rites. Diaconal spirituality is tied into all of that, no doubt.

But something Bishop John M. Quinn of the Diocese of Winona said on August 22, 2009 in his homily for my ordination keeps ringing in my ears:

“Be not the greatest, unless in your greatness you are the servant of all.”

There is a lot packed into that statement. It is a comment on kenosis, a comment on diaconal dignity, a comment on to whom we belong.

We are called to greatness in our servitude.  Our spirituality is more characterized by the ordinary than by the wonderous, by the signs of the times, the grittiness of living than by the softness of beatitude. We are perhaps more like Peter than John, more Marcan than Johannine, more Teresa of Calcutta than Theresa of Avila.

We can be none of that unless we walk with the Lord, and pray constantly. This is where the Liturgy of the Hours becomes so important. We pray so as to sanctify our time. We pray in a similar fashion as do our brother priests and bishops. We pray in a way that brings God to man, and man to God.

“Be not the greatest, unless in your greatness you are the servant of all.” 

It is a wonderful vocation.