Why I’m Going to Seminary to Become a Catholic Priest (The FULL Account)
If you’re looking for the abbreviated account of this post, go HERE.
Jesus.
It’s the “go-to” Sunday School answer for any question that’s asked. It doesn’t matter the question; the answer is most likely: Jesus.
I’m going to seminary to, God willing, become a Catholic priest because JESUS…and more specifically, because of the Eucharist, the real presence of Jesus — Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity — here on earth. That’s the best way to summarize it. In this article, I’ll share more of the details of the journey that led me here, but first, let’s start with a short prayer.
God, You know me, the reader. You know my journey, my dreams, and desires. I sit here trying to trust that I am in Your presence, that You, God, are loving me right now, and that You have a great plan for my life. By reading Jacob’s story, allow me to have my mind opened to what’s possible for my life and what’s possible for my relationship with You, God. Thank You for hearing me in this prayer. Amen.
Helpful note: One more thing before we dive in: I want to define a few terms that might be unfamiliar. Knowing what these terms mean is key for understanding the rest of this blog post. If you already have a good sense of what it means to discern the priesthood, go ahead and skip to the next section below — Part 1: Imagining being a priest.
What is discernment? Discernment is about prayerfully weighing the good options in our lives and choosing the one God has designed for us (source). In other words, it’s seeking God’s guidance in our decision-making. In a broad sense, we might discern the big decisions in our lives: what job to take, where to move, the next step in a relationship. This isn’t the kind of discernment I’m discussing in this post. The kind of discernment I’m referring to is discerning my vocation.
What is a vocation? Our vocation is the calling God has for our life. Vocation can be thought of in stages and this is the most helpful order to think about them in. First and foremost, God calls every person to be holy as God, Himself, is holy. This means to live and love as God shows us to through His Son (who is also God): Jesus. Our secondary vocation can be thought of as our “state of life.” Are we called to marriage or celibate priesthood or the religious life (think: religious sisters or brothers) or another form of consecrated single life? These are also considered permanent vocations. God made us with unique gifts in body and soul for our particular vocation. This second stage of vocation is the focus of this blog post. Finally, the third stage is more along the lines of our mission in terms of work or career.
What is priesthood? First, Jesus is the High Priest, the mediator between God and man who offers the sacrifice of himself on the Cross for the salvation of all. Jesus offers salvation and a relationship with God through the Church that he established with his apostles and that continues on today. St. John Vianney, a priest himself, wrote, “The priest continues the work of redemption on earth…The priest is the love of the heart of Jesus.” Priests serve the people of God through teaching, celebration of the Sacraments, and pastoral leadership. Priests make promises of celibacy, prayer, and obedience to their bishop. There’s a lot more to get into, but hopefully this summary will suffice (if not, watch this 4-minute video).
Part 1: Imagining being a priest
Unlike some men, I never imagined being a priest when I was a child growing up. In fact, it wasn’t until I spent a year working with Jesuit priests, that I realized that priests have their own flaws, interests and quirks, friendships and all the other things common to everyday people. Even after working with priests, I still could never imagine myself being one. In my mind, the door to priesthood was closed and locked up tight because I was set on being a husband and having kids.
And that’s exactly why, in July 2018, things got temporarily uncomfortable for me. With a suitcase and a stuffed-to-the-brim backpack, I arrived in Botswana, the southern part of the African continent. I was visiting Praveen, one of my best friends from college, who was there serving in the PeaceCorps.
Before making our way to his village, Praveen said something like, “Oh yeah, after talking with some colleagues, I’ve realized that the title ‘campus minister’ isn’t well understood here, so I’m going to introduce you as ‘Pastor Derry.’”
Whoaaa. What!?!…I immediately protested. I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. I had zero credentials. After abundant reassurance from Praveen, I relented to his choice of words and cultural understanding. Despite the discomfort of being on foreign soil with a foreign title, this was an important moment. It was the first time I ever imagined being a priest.
(Note: to be clear, I did not at any time impersonate being a priest on this trip. I only ever did things I would have done as a campus minister, and in conversation with people, I clarified that I was more like a “student minister”).
Part 2: Praying for our priests
Shortly after the summer trip to Botswana, I moved down to Indianapolis and started an AmeriCorps year-of-service. While the new adventure was exciting, it was definitely a difficult first few months as I built community and friendships from scratch. I relied heavily on Jesus during that time, beginning to attend Mass more frequently and spend time in Eucharistic Adoration (a time of prayer that simply involves being face-to-face with and adoring Jesus in the Eucharist; The Eucharist is displayed in a decorative container called a “monstrance”).
That Fall news of several priest abuse scandals surfaced. People were hurt, saddened, and frustrated, and some chose to leave the Catholic Church. I understood their choosing to leave, but for me, that’s not a choice I thought would benefit my own spiritual life or the Church community. My impression was that the priesthood and the Church were going to come out stronger from this; they were going to be purified.
This was important because, in addition to the abuse victims, I started more intentionally praying for priests.
Part 3: Unexpected movements of the Spirit
Beginning in December 2018, several unique things happened that I can only credit to the Holy Spirit.
First, I had a yearning to work in ministry again. My current job was at a Christian school, but I was doing more computer work. I missed the relationship-building I had experienced in ministry.
Second, I noticed friends and other new acquaintances mentioning priesthood to me. When that message was coming from elderly church ladies who had just met me, it was easy to ignore. When it was from people who knew me somewhat well and had an interest in my life, then I had to take it more seriously.
Third, I experienced great freedom and contentment in being intentionally single. Not freedom in that I could do whatever I wanted but freedom in that I was starting to grow in my capacity to love others well without using them. This was compounded and spurred on by my coming to a better understanding of the Church’s teaching on sexuality, marriage, and related topics. Whereas I previously had doubts about the Church’s teaching, I could now see the consistency, beauty, and authentic love that the Church promoted. This is one way I began to fall in love with the Catholic Church. The Church, built on 2,000 years of prayer and rational thinking, had good answers to these big questions on how we live and live well. Together, this growth in understanding of myself and the Church felt like breathing fresh air compared to the polluted air of our over-sexualized world.
Fourth, I had several powerful encounters with the Holy Spirit (I wrote in detail about those experiences here). This helped me become more open to the promptings of the Holy Spirit in my day-to-day life and made me realize that God wanted my gifts to bear fruit in His Kingdom more than I had initially thought.
Of course, in the moment I didn’t recognize the pattern or meaning of all these things happening around the same time. Reflecting back on it now, it’s easier to see that God was working in a specific way to simply open me up to the possibility of priesthood for my life.
With all this happening, I returned to seeking regular spiritual direction in February (spiritual direction is essentially meeting regularly with a trained guide to discuss your spiritual life and relationship with God).
By March 2019 the door towards priesthood had gone from shut and locked tight to now being cracked open an inch. I had no idea that the door was about to get blown wide open.
Part Four: An unimaginable loss
It’s April Fools Day, so this is probably a joke, I thought when I saw a text from a college friend named David asking if I had “heard the news?” David called me a few minutes later to share with me that our mutual friend, Naveed, had passed away.
I was in total shock. I knew Naveed prior to college. We went to high school together too. He was two grades above me, but we both played tennis enthusiastically. He was always willing to give me a ride home from tennis practices before I could drive myself. We remained good friends through college and beyond.
My whole being ached to see and be with my friend again. I ached for everything to go back to how it was before he passed. Yet, in the tragedy, there are a couple ways losing Naveed helped me to reflect more deeply:
First, in my grief, I was challenged to ask myself: Do I really believe in the resurrection? Do I really believe that death is not the end, that from death can come life, that from suffering can come joy? Do I believe that Jesus is with me in my sufferings? Do I believe in God’s Divine Mercy?
In this fragile time, the words of the psalms spoke to me and comforted me, guiding me towards answers:
Even when I walk through a dark valley, I fear no harm for you are at my side. — Psalm 23:4
In my distress, I cried out to my God…he heard my voice. — Psalm 18:7
The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and those who are crushed in spirit he saves. — Psalm 34:19
Second, with the thought of my own mortality, I was challenged to ask myself: What am I actually doing to bring people hope? Naveed was the most humble and generous person I knew. His death called me outside of myself to consider how I could be loving and serving my friends better. How can I live more generously? What would it look like to honor him well? These were some of the big questions bouncing around in my head when I got a letter from another good friend…
Part 5: Friendship and feelings
The letter was from Christen-Marie. We had met in late summer 2018 in Indianapolis. I became friends with her and her roommates and she with mine. It was an awesome group to spend time with. From the fall into the following spring, Christen-Marie and I grew a lot in our friendship. We had gone to a couple of the same Catholic conferences, prayed and engaged in ministry together, and just shared in the struggles and joys of life. She witnessed my responses to the encounters with the Holy Spirit I was having and inspired me in her own walking in the power of the Spirit. She was also extremely supportive in helping me process Naveed’s death (she too had unexpectedly lost a high school friend six months prior). Seriously, her friendship is a huge blessing to me. But for some reason Christen-Marie’s letter and the conversation that preceded it caught me off guard. In the letter and corresponding conversations she expressed three things:
- A great gratitude for our friendship.
- An openness to the potential of deepening our relationship to become more than friends (i.e. dating).
- And an encouragement for me to discern my vocation.
Here’s something she wrote on this third point:
“I deeply care about the call Jesus has placed on your life. I know you haven’t officially prayed through this before, but if there is any thought or desire, no matter how small, regarding priesthood, I greatly encourage you to talk to your spiritual director and take time to discern your vocation.”
The letter was a lot to take in, but as soon as I read this paragraph, I was cut to the heart. I knew I needed to follow through on what she said and discern the priesthood. I didn’t quite understand what that meant, and I didn’t have much of a desire to become a priest, but there had been a growing openness to it over the last several months. I figured I should at least discern it as a possibility — take some time to pray and talk to a few people — that way I could say that I did and then move on to the more exciting part of that letter about Christen-Marie and I.
This decision to discern my vocation despite having similar feelings of wanting to deepen my relationship with Christen-Marie was terribly difficult for both of us. As you can probably imagine, our friendship became tenuous, riddled with confusion and hurt, but it didn’t end there…I’ll come back to this later.
This confusion spilled into my first month of “discernment” as I was trying to wrap my head around all that was happening: the thoughts, fears, and conversations. I had no idea what I was doing. I approached discernment as trying to figure out the answer and doing it with a false openness while also putting a lot of pressure on myself.
Part 6: Wisdom from the holy ones
My quest to discern the priesthood began with first learning what it looked like to discern well. Like I have in other situations, I sought wisdom from a variety of people I respected, admired, and who I knew were seeking to live holy lives. This included married men, men who had gone to seminary but then discerned that it wasn’t the right fit, prayerful women engaged in ministry, and, of course, priests.
Here are some tidbits I picked up on this initial part of the quest:
- Always discern in community. This isn’t something you can do in isolation.
- Vocation (in this sense) is not a job, it’s the entirety of your life. A vocation fits you. It feels like home.
- If it’s God’s Will, you’ll know. Priesthood isn’t a feeling, it’s a calling.
- Discerning your vocation is always a response to God’s love for you. It’s first being in relationship with Jesus and then, from that, being called to witness in a particular way.
- It’s not something to figure out, but something that will be revealed to me, something to be received from Christ. It’s doing the hard, ordinary work of walking with the Lord. God’s “signs” to me are my thoughts, feelings, and desires when I am in Christ.
- You’re never going to have all the clarity you want, but 99% is pretty dang good.
- A simple but important prayer to offer: “God, I trust you know what’s best for me.”
Gathering these insights gave me a lot to reflect on, maybe even too much! Just as important as the information were the stories I could relate with. One of those stories was from a friend named Joe. He shared how early on in his discernment process, he felt frustration and resentful. There was a lot of back and forth where one day he could foresee himself as a priest and then the next day as married and a father. This was very confusing for him. Thankfully, it didn’t stay this way. Six months of dedicated prayer and reflection gradually brought him clarity. Now, he’s married and has a child!
Hearing stories like Joe’s gave me a lot of encouragement. “Even though it’s going to be hard, I know I can do this,” I told myself.
The door to priesthood had been blown wide open, but I still stood outside the entrance facing the opposite direction with my eyes closed. It was time to at least open my eyes and turn towards the door. Opening my eyes meant starting to pray the Prayer of Abandonment by Blessed Charles de Foucald every day:
Father,
I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me,
and in all your creatures -
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father.
Amen.
Part 7: A fearful invitation
On a Friday in mid-May, I spent time in Eucharistic Adoration leading up to Daily Mass. My discernment would include a lot of this. In prayer, I was reflecting on the question: what is my deep hunger?
I wrote in my journal:
Lord, I want deep companionship…I want to believe you can bring that companionship in a real, tangible way…
I’m also noticing a deep hunger for encounter, to be of service in a simple, humble way. Jesus, I need your guidance. You reveal yourself in many ways. I am open and waiting for however you might want to reveal yourself to me today.
Going into Mass, I felt distracted with these thoughts concerning deep hunger. I knelt for the Eucharistic Prayers, and I sought to simply be present. I said in prayer, “My heart is here, Lord.” Then I received a sense of Jesus responding, “…And I want your heart here on the altar with mine.” The Lord was pointing to the altar where His Body and Blood sat. Internally, I knew this was an invitation to the priesthood.
I sensed it was an invitation because in the Mass the priest is In Persona Christi, which means that Christ makes himself present to His Church through the priest, by their ordination. This is why the priest doesn’t say “this is Jesus’ body which will be given up for you…This is Jesus’ blood.” No, Jesus, himself, speaking through the priest says, “this is my body which will be given up for you…This is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant…”
Despite my total panic, I somehow had the resolve to reply, “Lord, if this is a call, it needs to be repeated and all the fears that this is bringing up need to be taken away. That’s how it will be clear. That’s how I’ll know this is from you.”
Hearing this come up in prayer scared me. One of the reasons it scared me is because I felt unworthy and incompetent to be a priest. I wasn’t remarkably brave or knowledgeable in sharing the Gospel with others. I didn’t know how to intentionally disciple someone else. I hadn’t really ever memorized Scripture nor been to a Latin Mass, and the list went on.
I immediately received reassurance by looking at the first reading from that day’s Mass. It was Acts 9:1–20…the conversion of St. Paul (or as it is in the reading, Saul). Could there have been anyone more unworthy to be an apostle than Saul, the man breathing murderous threats against the Christians? Yet, he was called by our Lord to be transformed and be a chosen instrument.
Still, I was afraid because pursuing priesthood would mean drastically reorienting the plans for my life. It would mean not getting married or having kids. It would mean having to go back to school for several years. It would mean not being able to explore other career paths. All sorts of other fears popped up too: what if becoming a priest limits my impact for things I hoped to do in the world? What if I didn’t have any close friends and was lonely? What if I ended up hurting someone and turning them away from a life of faith? What if I don’t fully understand or trust the Church? What if I’m overwhelmed by the responsibilities and have no opportunity for rest or balance? What if I’m a priest who has to be obedient to a bishop who is corrupt? What if people reject me as a priest?
This last one felt the most scary because it was the summary of almost all the others. I didn’t have to look any further than the crucifix to know that being united to Jesus in the priesthood meant experiencing the rejection that he experienced. I wasn’t ready for that.
Part 8: Summer swings
However, I also couldn’t let the fear paralyze me. Rather, it moved me to pray more, go to Mass more, read more, and ask questions. This was definitely a gift of God. I doubled down on those things, and that time with Jesus proved to be necessary as it carried me through several ups and downs throughout the summer involving work, friendships, ministry, and others…
It was around July that my friend Christen-Marie shared a beautiful prayer by St. Anthony of Padua called “Be Satisfied with Me.” Here is a line from it that struck me:
I want you to stop planning, to stop wishing, and allow Me to give you the most thrilling plan…
And then, when you’re ready, I’ll surprise you with a love far more wonderful than you could dream of.
This is exactly what God was doing. Amidst the trials, He was showering me with His love and preparing me for His thrilling plan, leading me first to deeper surrender, reliance, and trust. I had my eyes opened and was now peaking my head inside the door to priesthood just to see what it looked like on the other side. This took the form of steadily making my way through relevant spiritual reading.
A useful stepping-stone was a straightforward little booklet called “Is Jesus Calling You To Become a Catholic Priest?” What was most interesting about reading this was that throughout the booklet there are little anecdotes of men discerning the priesthood and the hurdles on their journey. The last anecdote starts like this…”Jacob is 24-years-old.”
Hey, that’s my name and I’m that age!
It continues to describe Jacob’s story — him being interested in entrepreneurship, being encouraged by others to consider seminary, and then starting to feel pressure/anxiety and letting fear drive decisions in his discernment. He moves past this fear, goes on a “Come-and-See” weekend retreat and experiences feeling at home and at peace there. He applies and is accepted to seminary. Now, this wasn’t some great sign from God, but parts of it resonated with me, it allowed me to see myself and my story leading to seminary, and the larger lesson was to “stand firm in faith in what you have received in your heart from God.”
Part 9: The celibacy question
The other book I started reading was To Save a Thousand Souls. This brought a lot of clarity on multiple areas of priesthood and discernment, but I was also struck by how the author wrote about celibacy. Celibacy is the voluntary spiritual discipline (not a mandated law) of forgoing marriage for the sake of the kingdom of God (Matthew 19:11–12). On this topic, Fr. Brannen writes:
“So often the celibate life is portrayed as a dour, sad existence that priests simply endure. On the contrary, to be espoused to the Bride of Jesus Christ is a tremendous honor, gift, and privilege…a man should become a priest, not primarily because he likes the idea of the work of a priest, but because he is in love with the Bride of Christ, the Church” (221).
“The purpose of celibacy is to learn to love the way the saints love in heaven. Celibacy is about intimacy with Jesus, the only one who can fill the void that is within us all…Intimacy with Jesus leads to love and intimacy with his people” (248).
“Yes, there will always be some nights in the life of a priest when he lies in bed and aches for a companion. God made us this way. He made us for union. But the priest raises his mind and heart to Jesus in these times and says, ‘Yes, Lord, I ache tonight for a female companion. But my life is an eschatological sign to the world that you alone can fill the human heart. And I am glad to ache for you, to bring that truth to the world. I am glad you called me to be a priest! Now I am going to sleep’” (249).
Reading this was challenging, but it didn’t repel me or turn me away. Rather, I thought to myself, if the things in this book are true, that’s inspiring and I think I might want that.
Because of these initial movements in early to mid-summer, I started to clue my family into my discernment. They were supportive, but like me, had a lot of questions too. In addition to my family, I also started having conversations with Vocations Directors. Different from a spiritual director, a Vocations Director usually works for a diocese or a specific religious order, meeting and walking with prospective applicants as they discern. These conversations emphasized clearly that discerning the priesthood is not the same as discerning a career and that to properly discern the priesthood, we first have to discern the call to celibacy (one’s “state of life”). Is God calling me to belong to Him completely with an undivided heart? How has God created my heart to love? How do I experience intimacy or deep connection?
Part 10: Second & third invitations
I heard it again at Mass. After the Eucharistic prayer, I heard “I want your heart here” and the “here” was where Jesus’ Body and Blood was on the altar. This was the second time clearly hearing this invitation to sacrifice, this invitation to priesthood in prayer. Same way, same place, just two and a half months apart.
In prayer, I responded to the Lord: “Jesus, I know it sounds silly but if you’re really calling me to become a priest, I need to hear it one more time and at a different place.”
The Lord didn’t waste much time on that. Just four days later on the feast day of St. Ignatius of Loyola, a priest well known for his writings on discernment, I was praying at Eucharistic Adoration at the local retreat center. I began pouring myself out to God, starting with a prayer from St. Ignatius: “Lord, help me to give and to not count the cost.” I continued, recounting the many saints, men and women, who had given everything to God. I asked, “Show me, Lord. Show me how to do that for you. Show me what that looks like for me. I want to give all I have and all I am.”
Towards the end of this time of prayer, I heard, from a distance, Jesus whisper: “Lift Me.” I knew this to mean physically lift Jesus in the Eucharist above my shoulders exactly as a priest does in the Mass at the moment of consecration.
This was the third time I heard the invitation to consider the priesthood from Jesus in prayer. And just like I had asked, it happened at a different chapel in a different way. I could no longer deny this invitation by claiming that I, myself, was making it up. After all, at first, I wanted anything and everything but priesthood. Now, after this third invitation, I was starting to warm to the idea, and I was starting to pray, “God, I want to want what you want. Even if I don’t want it right now.”
I felt convicted a week later when I heard a speaker who, while talking about discernment, posed the question: “What if we took that one call we heard and followed it over and over again?” That was it. I needed to follow this call I heard. I was ready to go beyond peeking my head in through the door to priesthood. I needed to step in the room on the other side of that door, at least for a moment.
Part 11: Discernment in the everyday
Following that call meant more prayer and action. I made plans to visit a couple seminaries to see what pursuing priesthood as a seminarian actually looked like. Did seminarians spend the entire day praying? Were they allowed to have fun? What kind of man chose to enter into this?
As I was setting up visits, I also took the extra time I had from not working a full-time job in August and September and spent it in prayer. We can’t know what God wants for us unless we spend time with Him. And this time was incredibly fruitful! There’s something remarkable about spending everyday on your knees before God. I noticed my prayers become more honest, more bold, grateful, and more open and receptive. With Jesus drawing me closer, I noticed myself desiring to go wherever the Lord wanted me to go and to do whatever the Lord wanted me to do. I said things in prayer like:
“Lord, I do not seek to hide myself from you. I give you permission to see me completely.”
“I will endure the desert if that’s the path that you have for me.”
“I’m letting go of trying to figure things out, and I’m just going to receive what you have for me.”
All the while, God’s promise of: “I will be with you” kept reverberating in my life. I experienced a lasting joy from praying with others through the young adult prayer ministry team I was a part of over the summer. On one occasion talking with a friend, I felt the Spirit guiding me to be present and to really see the situation through the lens of a priest. Another significant conversation happened when a different friend noticed “an excitement in my eyes” when I spoke about seminary.
At the end of September, I accepted a new full-time job working at a Catholic parish as a high school youth minister and communications coordinator. What better place to continue discerning this call than as staff of a parish with access to the behind-the-scenes of a parish priest? And if I wasn’t actually being called to priesthood, I would truly enjoy being in this ministry job at the parish.
Part 12: She offered her entire livelihood
Visiting seminary was my chance to step inside the metaphorical door to priesthood and get a feel for if it was a livable space, a space for growth and thriving.
When I visited Catholic seminaries in the Fall, here’s what I noticed:
- The schedule and commitment to prayer is intense and challenging; the faculty and administrators expect a lot, and this could take some time to adjust to.
- To balance that, there are plenty of supports and support services.
- There is also good community life, family dinners, fun and joy; it all felt very close-knit.
- The men at seminary took all sorts of paths to get there. Some took longer than others to make their way there but feel peace being there now.
- The men at seminary are regular dudes who love Jesus.
Overall, I could see myself being at seminary. I could see myself alongside the other guys there. I especially saw this at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit. That’s where the Diocese of Lansing (DOL) sends their seminarians. I had been talking with the DOL Vocations Director, Fr. John, and he set up my visit to Sacred Heart. The Diocese of Lansing (which covers Lansing, Flint, Ann Arbor, Jackson, and the in-between) was where I lived, went to school, and worked prior to moving to Indianapolis. It’s also where all my extended family is, so I’m there for most all holidays. It feels like home.
I felt at ease in the halls of Sacred Heart. The seminarians were spirited and genuinely interested in me as a person. The Vice Rector was thoughtful, gentle, and encouraging. The class I sat in on was…well, a class…and those can be hit or miss depending on the professor, but one thing that I loved was that the entire group of 20 people sang happy birthday to their classmate at the beginning of class.
Perhaps more beautiful than that was the Mass during my visit. It was ordinary as far as Mass goes and, yet, extraordinary because the Mass itself is extraordinary. It is the liturgy, the worship that takes place in Heaven among the angels and saints, and that worship is brought to us here on earth, bridging the divide. At every Mass there is a miracle, the miracle of mere bread and wine becoming Jesus’ Body and Blood and God allowing us to receive Him into our own bodies! It sounds crazy to write about, but that’s what it is! St. John Vianney wrote, “if we truly understood the Mass, we would die of joy!”
These things are true, but what made the Mass stand out was how I perceived the Lord was speaking to me through the readings and homily. The Gospel reading was Luke 21:1–4:
When he looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasury; and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins.
He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest;
for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”
Wow, Jesus praises the widow for offering her whole livelihood! Jesus doesn’t simply praise this, he does it himself. He, being God, has been generous with us by offering his entire life for us. Then, he calls us to do the same — to offer our lives generously and in love. So, how is he calling me specifically to offer myself?
Why was I taken by this? Why was I so energized and inspired by the widow’s sacrifice and that it was her whole livelihood? Because that’s the kind of sacrifice I want to make. I want to offer my entire livelihood like the poor widow and like Jesus. I want to offer that to Jesus’ Church as a priest. I think God can do a lot with that wholehearted sacrifice.
The Sacred Heart visit was good, but I knew it wasn’t wise to be swept off my feet based on one moment of prayer or one conversation. One of the things you might be noticing from my discernment is that I never put too much weight in any one experience. I was trusting that God was working throughout the process and that it was the larger interior movements and the source of those movements that I should pay attention to. Was the source of the movements from God? From the Devil? From the world or my own notions? Then, do those movements involve holy desires, feelings of peace, and/or feeling at home? Do those movements lead toward faith, hope, and love?
By late Fall, a movement I took note of was one that was away from fear. If you remember, when I initially heard the invitation to the priesthood in prayer, I was extremely fearful. I was particularly afraid of the cross, the rejection from others and potentially from God.
Now, after the many conversations, the reading, praying, asking questions, and drawing close to Jesus, I had greater clarity, far less fear, and was moving towards peace. This was a movement of God. As 1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.” The band Bethel similarly captured it well in one of their songs when they sing, “My fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love.” An important realization I had about this is that sacrifice and rejection are necessarily part of any form of serving or being with people. So, while priesthood involves the cross like it did for Christ, it doesn’t end there. It follows with the Resurrection and a love so powerful that it leads to new life in the Holy Spirit!
At this point, I would say that the metaphorical “priesthood room” I entered was not just good but attractive. I could see myself in it, but I was also learning that I wasn’t actually in the “priesthood room” of the house yet. I was entering a discernment guest room of sorts. The true “priesthood room” was down the hall, much more spacious, and flowing with activity. To get to that room involved going through the “application hallway” to the “seminarian room,” which had the sliding door that opened up into the “priesthood room.”
Part 13: In the garden
With this recent progress in the discernment, I was excited to see it continue. I knew the next great opportunity for prayer and action I would have was an IndyCatholic young adult retreat in early December. The retreat was focused on the topic of discernment and led by a young priest! I was in a unique position though because I wasn’t a participant on the retreat but part of the prayer team, volunteering to help the retreat to be a success for others.
Going into the weekend of the retreat, the question of celibacy still loomed heavily on my heart. Would the Lord grant me the grace to sustain that lifestyle? Was the Lord guiding me to a different kind of intimacy than from one I would have with a wife?
That Friday of the retreat, I was praying with the Gospel reading. It’s the one in which Jesus heals two blind men (Matthew 9:27–31), but right before he heals them, he asks, “do you believe that I can do this?” They respond, “yes!” In prayer, Jesus was asking me the same question, “do you believe that I can do this? Jacob, do you believe I can make you a saint? Do you believe that I will keep giving you everything I have and pouring myself out generously for you in the priesthood? Or do you believe I am going to hold out on you? Or abandon or reject you?…Because if it’s the first one, the giving my entire self for you, how are you going to respond?”
I didn’t know how I was going to respond to Jesus. I wanted to say “yes” but I still wasn’t sure. The next day of the retreat I was scheduled to be an intercessor during the talk before dinner, meaning I wouldn’t actually attend the talk. Instead, I would be in the chapel praying for the talk to go well, praying for the speaker, for the participants listening, etc.
I spent the first part of that time interceding as I was supposed to in front of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Then my prayer drifted to that “Do you believe…” question. I was the only one in the chapel, simply gazing at my Lord who was illuminated by nothing but the candlelight. God’s Spirit came over me, and I just felt so fully loved and accepted by Jesus. He was pulling me closer, and I felt at home.
I was reminded of the fact that God gave me the ability to choose. Priesthood is a choice, celibacy is a choice, and there is freedom in that. I also couldn’t help but think of the joy and sense of purpose that the retreat leader Fr. Michael showed.
Finally, I realized that right before Jesus was about to take the next big step in his mission — his passion, crucifixion, and death — he was afraid in the Garden of Gethsemane (Matthew 26:36–46). He experienced agony in the garden. Then, he prayed and moved forward with that mission. I saw this parallel to my own journey. Over the last several months, I had experienced fear, uncertainty and, at times, sorrow. I simply said, “Your will be done, Lord…I believe you are going to continue pouring yourself out for me in all things. Jesus, I trust in you.” The Lord strengthened me to walk into this next step of my mission to pursue priesthood.
This was confirmed in the very next talk as Fr. Michael posed questions like:
- Which dreams fill me with holy and wholesome desires that lead toward faith, hope, and love?
- Where do I feel close to God?
- Where do I feel at home?
Wow, my answers to these questions were what I had just experienced in prayer and what I had been reflecting on. It wasn’t just that though. The grace in that time of prayer was Jesus showing me that he would provide what I needed. He provided a profound sense of intimacy — an intimacy in which nothing else mattered in that moment other than being right there in the loving embrace of Jesus in the Eucharist. I could now say, “yes” to Jesus’ “Do you believe…” question.
Part 14: The fishing company
A short couple weeks later, I returned to Michigan to attend a Diocese of Lansing seminarian event. That morning I got to reconnect with some of the men I had met while visiting Sacred Heart a month prior; we prayed, heard a talk from the former Bishop, had Mass and lunch. Everything about this time felt right. Bishop Emeritus Mengeling was comical while also raising several important points for me. For example, I was surprised when he mentioned that he, himself, was terrified upon entering seminary. Additionally, I was reminded and instilled with hope when he described being a priest, or “joining Jesus’ fishing company” as he called it, as not being about self-fulfillment but it being about the salvation of souls! It’s not like being a social worker; it’s about offering sacrifice to bring everyone to the heavenly altar that is Jesus himself.
This was so helpful at this time because in general in our culture, we hear about or are encouraged to “follow our dream” or “pursue our passion,” and it’s painted in an individualistic light. If our dreams are only for ourselves, then we need better dreams. We are made for relationship and community. This harkens back to what first attracted me to the priesthood. Over the last several years, I have longed to serve and to be with people in deep, meaningful ways. I first noticed this on an Alternative Spring Break trip my freshman year of college and it hasn’t stopped since. Most recently, it has evolved into an unquenchable desire for people to know and experience the Lord’s tender and powerful love, mercy, and hope like I have.
That day, after communion at Mass, I recognized again that deep desire — the desire to be that sacrifice that a priest is. An hour later, I talked with the Fr. John, the Vocations Director, and I said, “yes” to starting an application for seminary.
Part 15: Giving up something good for something better
Besides my family, one of the first friends that I shared this news with in person was Christen-Marie. Like I said back in Part 5, Christen-Marie and I’s friendship got increasingly complicated and confusing after I decided to start discerning the priesthood. Discernment involves prayerfully weighing the good options in my life. This inherently means that to faithfully follow God, I have to forgo something good for the sake of something better. To pursue seminary, I give up the possibility of dating and marriage, which are such good things!
Giving up dating didn’t require giving up my friendship with Christen-Marie though. We both still wanted to be friends but neither of us knew how. Thankfully, neither of us stopped praying for the other. Over several months, we were each humbled. We had more conversations, sought clarity and slowly worked towards forgiveness. This was the powerful work of the Holy Spirit, which remains central to our friendship!
When I shared with Christen-Marie my news of applying to seminary, she couldn’t stop smiling and kept repeating, “I’m so happy!” Wow, her reaction caused me to step back and appreciate her friendship even more. I asked her to be one of my application references, and her prayers and encouragement fueled my pursuit of God throughout my application.
About 6 weeks later, she shared some exciting news with me: after her own journey of prayer and discernment, she was applying to enter the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth to become a religious sister (a Catholic nun)! She asked me to be a reference for her application and was later accepted! Please pray for her as she moves to Dallas, Texas and joins the sisters this Fall! She too is giving up something good for something better: doing the will of our Heavenly Father.
Part 16: The application process
The application process was a lot…as it should be. If you don’t feel some confidence in taking this next step that’s going to come out in the application process. In the time-span of two months, I had to:
- Fill out a 10-page written application covering every aspect of my life
- Send in my high school and college transcripts, ACT scores, and driving record
- Have background checks and complete training regarding child abuse and reporting
- Write an autobiography essay along with two other essays on celibacy and priesthood
- Go through a three-hour psychological evaluation
- Have my medical and dental health reviewed
- Take the GRE (graduate school exam)
- Provide 3–5 references on my behalf
Despite how much there was to the application in the short amount of time, it all came together smoothly. Again, God was making the path. The end of the “application hallway” was in-person interviews with the Vocations Director, diocesan review boards, and Bishop. These interviews helped me better understand the direction/focuses of the Diocese of Lansing, what they desire in their priests, and get to know a handful of the people working for the Diocese.
In late April 2020, around a year after I started discerning the priesthood, I was accepted to be a Diocese of Lansing seminarian at Sacred Heart Seminary in Detroit. Praise God for all He has done, all He is doing, and all He will do!
Part 17: Stay faithful
The truth is I don’t know if I’m going to become a priest, but I do know attending seminary is the next right step. The “seminarian room” seems to have a lot of natural light flowing in, providing the right space for continued discernment and growth. If I don’t end up becoming a priest, at the very least, I will be a better man and father because of this experience.
As you can see from my story, discernment isn’t a straight line. It involves many twists and turns. The key, I found, is staying faithful.
Stay faithful to…
- Jesus…by continuing to show up for daily prayer and the Sacraments, offering more and more of yourself to Him and following wherever He calls you.
- Community…by sharing what’s happening in your life and what you’re thinking and noticing in the discernment with others who you trust.
- The process…by recognizing that it’s a journey and that it helps to take practical steps forward.
- Yourself…by not getting caught up in the expectations of others or trying to fit yourself into a certain box.
We can stay faithful in our discernments or just other areas of our lives because, whether we realize it or not, God is faithful to us.
Thus says the Lord,
who created you, O Jacob, and formed you, O Israel:
Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name: you are mine.
When you pass through waters, I will be with you;
through rivers, you shall not be swept away.
When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned,
nor will flames consume you.
For I, the Lord, am your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your savior.
…you are precious in my eyes
and honored, and I love you
Isaiah 43:1–4
Part 18: Closing
Like I said at the beginning of this, I’m going to seminary to become a Catholic priest because of Jesus in the Eucharist. All the most pivotal moments in my discernment, the moments I return to over and over in reflection are: the moments in Mass, the moments in Eucharistic Adoration, praying before Jesus in the Eucharist. There’s something so humble, so beautiful, simple yet mysterious, loving and life-giving that pours forth from Jesus in the Eucharist…and it’s unlike anything else I have experienced or can explain.
My prayer for you, reader, is that if you haven’t met Jesus yet, or if you have but feel distant from our God, that you will seek an opportunity (or, hopefully, many opportunities) to spend time with Jesus in the Eucharist. Sit in our Lord’s presence in silence. Let Him beckon you and show you the peace, goodness, and personal love of God.
Finally, I want to ask for your prayers! I can’t do this on my own, and I want to share the challenges, joys, transformation and fruit, from this seminary experience. I’m seeking to gather a prayer support team to journey with me at seminary. Learn more and fill out this brief form to join my prayer support team! Thank you!
Other resources to learn more about priesthood:
- DiocesanPriest.com
- A day in the life of a priest
- Common questions on the life of a priest
- Theological basis for priestly celibacy
- Video: Priests discuss celibacy
Other resources to learn more about the Catholic Church:
