A Tale of Two Vocations: Senior Edition

Religious Life

by Gerard DeAngelis

All Christian vocations are a response of love to the love of God. This is ultimately the reason that I want to be a Dominican priest. 

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The hard thing about writing an article about entering religious life is that my reasons cannot be boiled down to an unerring math problem. Wanting to be a priest is less like finding “x” and more like proposing to a woman: although there might be some objective criteria, it eventually boils down to some true desire that cannot be put into words.

I say “true” desire because although there are many things that we desire, it seems to me that there is one class of deeper desires. These are desires that when all more frivolous interests are swept away, are closest to our hearts and, when we are most honest with ourselves, ring clearly and truly. Ultimately, my vocation story is a story about the amplifying of that desire within me through my walk with God.

The first time I ever had the smallest inkling of this desire was at the end of high school when I started to seriously practice my faith for the first time. I was beginning to pray more regularly, receive the sacraments, and be intentional about the Christian life. I eventually had a realization: Either Christianity is not true and, therefore, worth none of my time at all, or it is true, and worth my whole self. Obviously, I chose the latter. I think that this desire, to give myself wholly to God, to leave nothing behind, and have Him be my only possession was the first step on my discernment. 

When I came to BC and grew out of my Long Island Catholic bubble, I learned more about the world and how it is filled with people who are hurting, broken, and, to put it as the Gospel says, “like sheep without a shepherd.” Suddenly, another desire popped up: I want to be a shepherd. Although God knows the world needs great people like educators, social workers, and secular leaders to address these needs, the world also needs men and women to address people’s spiritual hunger. Having found the only absolute remedy to spiritual brokenness in Christ, I want to spend my life showing other hurting, broken, and wandering people like myself where they can find healing. 

As this desire continued to grow in me and new considerations arose in favor of the priesthood—the aid of a communal life to holiness, the space religious life offers for contemplation through prayer, the emphasis of orders like the Dominicans on an intellectual understanding and defense of God—it also became obvious how great of a sacrifice it will be. To this day, it is almost painful when I acknowledge that if I take vows with the Dominicans, I will not have a wife to share my life with and love until death and that I will not have sons or daughters to hold in my arms and guide through life. I certainly have holy jealousy for men like Patrick who will have these things; they are some of God’s most sublime gifts. 

I do believe, however, that many of these desires are fulfilled in different ways in the priesthood. Priests are not called fathers for an arbitrary reason: they guide countless people through some of the most important moments of their lives. Further, priests are living witnesses of the heavenly reality that the only love that will ever satisfy us completely is not the love of a spouse but the love of God which we receive in Heaven. 

Just like for me, God has called everyone to a specific work. Because of His great, active love for us, He has created every person with something he or she can contribute to the world that no one else can. That is to say, each one of us was created with an individual part of God that only we can speak to, and an individual way to love Him that no one else has been given. 

I like to think that this is because God’s love is so rich, so varied, and so incomprehensible that He creates in us different ways to love Him back which each speak to His love in a different way. For husbands and fathers, like Patrick will be, they speak to the depth of God’s love. For priests and religious, they speak to its breadth. With the help of God’s grace, we all can become saints through our different vocations.

Gerard DeAngelis

Marriage

by Patrick Stallwood

All Christian vocations are a response of love to the love of God. This is ultimately the reason that I want to be a husband.  

When pursuing my vocation, I expected to hear a thundering voice of the divine, rendering unto me my destined path. However, it seems I am not as lucky as Elijah. Instead, the call to my vocation was like the sorting hat from Harry Potter. Much like how the hat predicted Harry would do great things in Slytherin and Gryffindor, my vocational decision was a choice between two paths that would both suit me well. 

I first met my fiancée, Christina, in sophomore year of high school. She sat right in front of me in physics class. I would ask her for help on homework assignments, sometimes because I forgot, other times because I just wanted to talk to her. Before I knew it, we became friends. Then we found out we had mutual feelings for each other. Then we became best friends. 

In hindsight, it is easy to see the hand of God slowly guiding my wandering heart towards Him. Christina and I spent our first dates in Adoration. I never felt a love so grounded in faith. Christina laughed when I laughed, held me when I cried, and gave me reassurance in my anxiety. What I did not understand at the time was that the love Christina showed me was a faint reflection of God’s love. As I tried to love her in return, I was emulating God’s love as well. Over the years, we both grew into different people, but we were people that still loved each other with the echo of God’s love. 

To say that I was always sure of my vocation while dating Christina would be irresponsible. All it would take is five words to insert doubt. These five words were always said with good intentions, usually by people who saw me pray after Mass. The fatal words: “You should be a priest.” Then I would spiral, wondering if God called me through those people. I could imagine myself giving homilies, baptizing babies, and saying blessings. I would be a good priest. I have always felt deeply attracted to theological scholarship and ministry. I wanted to help people learn more about God and grow in relationship with Him. 

It took the culmination of many experiences to learn that just because I would make a good priest does not mean God is calling me to be a priest. The same qualities that form a great spiritual father also form a great familial father. I recognized that I want to teach my children the faith and help them grow in virtue. I am most inspired to see the faith lived in the lives of everyday fathers taking their children to Mass (sometimes after bribing them with donuts). 

After five years of dating, and approaching our senior year, it was time to take my first step towards my vocation. I knew I had to propose soon. Nonetheless, when I thought about talking to my parents about getting married, a deep fear took hold of me. I saw my vocation as my decision to make. I had not prayed to God. The love I share with Christina is a gift, not given by me, but by God. When I tried to advance in my vocation without prayer, I was met with cowardice. When I finally got on my knees and prayed, humbling myself and recognizing God’s gift, I found courage. I still felt some fear, yet I knew that my actions were God’s will and He gave me strength. I got down on one knee in front of the Adoration Chapel we went to all those years ago, and she agreed to be my wife.

So now, many would think I made it to the finish line. I have discovered my calling, so now I will ascend into heaven with my bride and join the choirs of saints. Obviously this is not so. With vocation, there are many calls within calls. I am to be a husband, but what kind of husband will I be? Fatherhood brings a whole new set of challenges. 

Christians are called to respond to God’s love. For some, like my friend Gerard, that is through the priesthood. For me, it is through a family. Both of us are on a lifelong journey to discover more about God’s will. We have both chosen our path, yet our work is far from finished. For while “the human heart plans the way, the Lord directs the steps” (Prov. 16:9).

Patrick Stallwood
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