I have heard a lot of stories about 'coming out' recently.
On my Facebook feed, at slam poetry events, on TV, through word of mouth.
Stories about individuals from the LGBT community sharing their sexual
identities with those nearest them. While I wish to neither discredit nor
comment upon these narratives--- I do want
to talk about a different kind of coming out. One that I'm more familiar with.
You see, I don't have a lot of experience with 'coming out of
the closet' in the way it usually means, but I do have experience with a
different kind of coming out. One that no one ever talks about. A different
kind of coming out that has not been all over Facebook, slam poetry events, TV
or word of mouth. Because it is far more unusual. And far more misunderstood.
When talking to one of my coworkers a few weeks ago, he said
something that made me pause:
"Telling people that I'm a seminarian is basically like
coming out. Except people usually have to ask me what a seminarian is first."
My life, especially since coming to college has been filled
with dear friends, myself included, who have sought to discern their vocation and
God's plans for their lives. And many of those nearest to me have considered
entering religious life of some kind, whether it be entering a convent to
become a nun, or have considering applying to seminary to pursue the holy
priesthood-- I have often been struck by the stories of these friends. By their
journeys. By their bravery and courage.
Because it takes bravery and courage to admit to feeling
drawn to religious life. To admit feeling a call to a vocation other than
marriage. To admit feeling drawn to something so outside the norm. To admit
being drawn to a life that is so often misunderstood and misrepresented in the
culture. It takes a lot of courage to admit to wanting to follow Jesus so badly
that you'd be willing to give up anything, even the dressings and appearances
of successful American living. But God, it seems, has put into my life a myriad
of brave souls who have heard this call and have chosen to answer it in their
own unique and courageous ways.
Through being a part of a vibrant young community of
Catholics all seeking to pursue God's will for their lives, I have often been
struck by the narratives of many others and their 'coming out' to those nearest
them. Though there is no guide-book to telling those in your life you're
considering being a priest or a nun, I've often been shocked by the ignorance,
selfishness, and outright hostility of those who are meant to be the support system of
those young Catholics discerning their vocations.
My co-worker in Catholic ministry, a seminarian-- a Priest-In-Training if you
will, who had just finished up his first of eight years of study and formation, recounted to
me one night how difficult it was to tell his family about his decision to
enter seminary. And how difficult it is to keep telling people about his
decision. He's faced tears. And mocking laughter. And disapproval.
And his story is not an exception. I have sat in convents with girls my own age
as they've explained how much they've risked and how much they have left behind
to even set foot on convent grounds. I have heard of girls getting yelled at,
threatened, given the silent treatment, and nearly disowned for wanting to
pursue a life as a bride of Christ. I have heard stories of seminarians
avoiding telling their parents for months about their acceptance into seminary
for fear of their inevitable backlash.
I have sat in dorm rooms with crying friends who have
lamented to me about their struggles and the lack of support of people in their
lives. I have tried my best to encourage friends to find the courage just to
ask for permission from their parents to go on one discernment retreat. I have sat in cars with tearful companions
as they read me text messages from family members who have met their
discernment with anything but compassion.
And strangely enough, vocations to the priesthood or
religious life are something that even those far removed from the Catholic
Church feel like they have the ability to comment and pass judgment upon.
This past semester at school I took a short-story writing
class. And like most things I write, nearly all the stories produced in that
class were fraught with strong Catholic undertones. The first story I turned in
for my peers to critique was a story about a two sisters, one of them on the
cusp of entering a cloister, and the other struggling to understand. It was and
is a story very close to me, one inspired from my observations of my friends'
discernment and my own glimpses into religious life. I remember coming into
class the day of my scheduled critique beyond nervous to hear my feedback.
At first my classmates talked about the mechanics of my
writing, the plot of the story, and so on. But then we stumbled upon the
elephant in the room---- that this was a religious story. That it is focused on
religious life.
"I think she's being so selfish," one of my
classmates said, referring to my character who was a nun-to-be. "I mean,
if that were my kid who wanted to abandon her entire family to go into a
monastery, I'd fight it tooth and nail."
Selfish. Abandon.
"Did anyone else think this character was being
selfish?" My professor, whom I knew to be a practicing Catholic, asked.
A flurry of hands were raised amongst the surrounding seats.
"Hmmm," my professor said, scanning the assorted
hands. "I have to ask you this," he said, turning back to my
classmate. "Is entering the military selfish?"
My classmate looked at him. Blinked. "Well no, you're
sacrificing your life to serve your country and others."
"Right," my professor said. "And entering
religious life is sacrificing your life to serve God and others."
Both of them left the conversation at that.
But I have noticed that while you'd be hard pressed to find
someone who doesn't think entering the military is heroic (even if only to
avoid seeming unpatriotic), the same idea of selflessness does not extend to
religious life. While nearly everyone can agree that our soldiers need to be
thanked and supported at all costs, a much slimmer minority thinks the same
about religious. Even though nuns and priests are on the front lines every day
fighting things like poverty, illness, and for the souls of Catholics and
non-Catholics alike, the idea that the choice to enter religious life is
selfish is one that I have still encountered a handful of times. Everyone can
applaud a man in uniform, but very few will applaud a man in habit or collar.
I have found the attitude, even among Catholics, that those
discerning religious life are young, naive, religious fanatics who have somehow
developed a rather inconvenient and embarrassing new hobby.
Discerners are often treated like little children who have
taken up a fascination in some weird or shameful lifestyle. Like a precocious
child who boldly exclaims that they want to be a unicorn or a pirate when they
grow up--- or something as silly or impossible. How often discerners are not
taken seriously.
"If you dated
more you'd changed your mind."
"Someday, when
you grow up and like boys you'll say differently."
"Get a real job
and then you can decide."
"No, because I
need grandchildren."
"Why can't you
just be happy with a nice job and a good
spouse just like everyone else?"
...just like everyone else.
A little English lesson:
vo·ca·tion
vōˈkāSH(ə)n/
noun
noun: vocation; plural noun: vocations
1.
a strong feeling of suitability for a
particular career or occupation.
"not all of us have a vocation to be nurses or
doctors"
calling, mission, purpose, function;
|
The fact is, as Catholics we believe that this "calling"
as described above is placed on one's soul by God since that person was
conceived. Yes. Even since that person
was conceived. A vocation is not only
a calling, but it is a life's purpose. So
as beautiful as the vocation of marriage is, marriage is just that--- a
vocation. A separate and different vocation. Meant for only specific people. And so for some people,
it is not their life's purpose. And
no amount of pretending, or wanting or the wishes and advice of others, will
make it so. While it's ultimately one's own choice whether or not to discern,
accept, and follow that vocation, whatever purpose God has created you for will
not change.
And therefore no. Those called to a religious vocation can't
just ignore the call or pretend it doesn't exist. While not following God's will won't necessarily
end in abject misery, it will inevitably keep one from one's full potential,
and will often result in restlessness or lack of peace. The fact is, those
called to a religious vocation are different. They have been set aside for a
different call. And no--- they can't be
just like everyone else.
Most can scarcely fathom what would make someone actually want to be a priest, monk, nun, or
religious sister, and for those discerning religious life, the desire is often
mysterious as well. But it is also strong. And genuine. And to have such a
desire dismissed, questioned, denied, or shamed by others is an added hurdle to
an already challenging road to tread.
In a society ruled by relativism that operates on the mantra
"live and let live", it seems crudely ironic that those seeking to
give of themselves to the service of all of mankind are often met with such obstinacy.
Live and let live...exactly
like the rest of us do.
So why am I writing this? Why does this really matter?
Because people need to be aware. And those discerning need your support.
Because there are people in your life, whether or not you
know it, who have heard that still, small, voice. There are people among you
who have had that desire to follow Jesus even at the cost of their own lives.
There are people among you who hide all of these desires, all of these fears,
all of these joys deep, deep in the quiet of their hearts for fear of judgment.
There are people among you who are scared. There are people among you who are
dying for someone, anyone to
understand.
Here's the thing: Those discerning a call to religious life
should not have to hide. Those discerning religious life shouldn't have to cry
every time they get off the phone with their parents. Those discerning
religious life shouldn't have to feel sick every-time another career counselor
tries to give them unwanted advice for the work force. Those discerning
religious life shouldn't have to be made to feel selfish or silly or foolish or
childish. Those discerning religious life shouldn't have to jump through hoops
to investigate the lifestyle. Those discerning religious life shouldn't have to
spend months working up the courage to tell their families. Those discerning
religious life shouldn't have to accept the mockery and the awkward silences
from their friends. Those discerning religious life shouldn't be made to feel
like freaks. Outcasts. Fanatics.
And whose fault is it that they so often do feel this way?
Right. Ours.
Once a soul begins a quest for Christ, Satan does everything
in his power to pull that soul away from Our Lord. We don't need to help him in
that.
Parents: I know, I know, I know that you have dreams for your children. And you want nothing
but happiness for them. This is good. This is just. This is beautiful. But parents, please, please, please learn how to let go and let God.
Because here's the thing--- we either trust that God is who He says He is-- a
shepherd that cares for the ones He calls, or we're really just wasting our
time here. Have faith. Have courage. Meet
the religious community. Talk to priests. Ask questions. Be supportive. God
could be using the vocation of your child to even sanctify you. It may not be
easy to accept that one day you may have to give your child and the life you
have planned for him/her to God, but God is the one that gave him/her to you in the first place.
If you want your child to be happy, authentically and profoundly happy. If you want him/her to
fulfill their life's deepest purpose, then please, let them pursue God's will
for their lives--- God's will which is love and mercy itself.
And for everyone else: someday someone may come into your
life. A timid soul who shares with you such wild and wonderful dreams that
involve a life you could scarcely imagine. Please support them. Please
encourage them. Please be there for them. Because you might be the only one who
is.
In my own journey with discerning my vocation, those in my
life have responded with overall grace and compassion at my 'coming out' to
them. And I thank them for that. But it still not easy to 'come out'. The more
times I do it does not make it any easier. Though my knowledge of my own
vocation is far from certain, the fact that someday I could be looking like
something out of Sister Act and
having an 'Sr.' in front of my name has earned me my fair share of
unwanted advice, awkward silences, and tense moments. But I have it easier than
most.
There are future nuns
and priests walking among us. They may not be the most outwardly devout. They
may not be the most vocal. They may not be the most worthy or qualified. But
they are the ones that Christ has chosen. They are the future of our Church.
Someday, sometime, some young soul may 'come out' to you
about their discernment of God's will for his or her life. It may be unexpected. It may be confusing. It may require some faith. It may require some
questions. It may require some getting used to.
But you don't have to understand it, you just have to listen.
Omnia Gratia Sunt.