As I enter the final weeks of my time as a Transitional Deacon at the Parish of Immaculate Conception and Assumption of Our Lady, I can’t help but feel deeply grateful to God for having placed me in such a wonderful parish community where I have learned so much in such a short time. What a blessing and a gift it has been to be here every weekend. I’m grateful to Fr. Anthony Sorgie and Fr. Adolfo Novio, for welcoming me into their home and for teaching me so much, and to my brother Deacons, for their constant presence and words of encouragement all throughout my assignment.
For me, it is so surreal to be at this moment of transition into the Priesthood of Our Lord Jesus Christ. After seven years of seminary formation, and much prayer and discernment, I am only a few weeks away from priestly ordination. It is incredible and I am full of emotions, as you can imagine. For me, this is not the end but the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in my life and my journey of faith walking with Our Lord Jesus. It feels like yesterday when I was ordained a Deacon and assigned to ICA.
While at ICA, I had the opportunity to do so many things. I served as Deacon for Mass every weekend and had the opportunity to preach on most occasions on the Sunday Gospel. I also had the opportunity to baptize three beautiful babies, visit the RCIA, distribute ashes to school children on Ash Wednesday, and serve as Deacon for Holy Week and the Paschal Triduum — not to mention having the opportunity to chat with many parishioners after Mass and get sound priestly mentorship from our esteemed pastor and vicar, who are great examples to me of the priesthood.
I was commenting to Fr. Sorgie earlier that I feel I have become part of a family — the ICA family -- like I joined “una famiglia.” So, for me, this is not “a farewell” but, I hope, a “see you soon.” I ask you to please pray for me and my classmates during this time of transition into the Priesthood of Jesus Christ. Pray that we be priests after the most Sacred Heart of Jesus and instruments of His Divine Mercy.
Thank you and may God bless you always!
When I was a child, my parents encouraged me and my siblings to give up something for the season of Lent -- eating sweets, junk food, or ice cream, drinking soda, playing video games, etc. I remember it being a painful experience, not being able to do the things I really liked during Lent. I really didn't know why we had to do penances for 40 days and often wondered, "What is the point of all this? Why do we have to sacrifice ourselves and suffer during Lent?" I was always tempted to cheat on my Lenten resolutions and thought that any kind of suffering, by itself, was quite torturous.
Now, at the beginning of every Lent, the Church asks us to reflect on the Gospel where Jesus, led by the Spirit, goes into the desert for 40 days. There, He eats nothing and is tempted by Satan to abandon His cause of penance and ultimately His ministry. But, why does Jesus do this? Why does He suffer in the desert for all those days? Why does He ultimately suffer the pains of the cross at His crucifixion?
The answer to these questions is: "For love." It was out of love for us that Jesus endured suffering, bringing us redemption and salvation and making eternal life possible with Him in heaven. The love of Jesus is a love that suffers for the other, endures all kinds of sufferings for the other; it is a love that is totally emptied of self for the good of the other.
We could think of His love being like that of a parent for their child. If you ask any parent about this, they know it very well. They would be willing to sacrifice everything for the well-being of their children. When we love someone, we suffer, sacrifice, and even endure death for them.
This is the kind of love Jesus shows us with the suffering He endures, not only in the desert but throughout His life on Earth, especially in His passion and death. It is this kind of love that we are called to live in our own lives, especially this Lenten season. We sacrifice and renounce the many things we like to do out of love for Jesus. We show Him that, in the same way that He loved us, we now love Him. We are led by the Holy Spirit, like Him, to serve others without caring for ourselves. This may mean helping a neighbor or family member in need, or volunteering at a homeless shelter or food pantry. We empty ourselves for God and neighbor so as to be filled again by His love, grace, and care for us.
It wasn't until I was older that I realized this reality of suffering, not just during Lent but in life. My suffering is for love -- of God and neighbor. I realized that my suffering, not only during Lent but throughout the whole year, could be my love letter to God. It could be my way of showing my love for God and His people and for all the good things He has done and continues to do in my life.
Let us pray for the grace to bear our sufferings and sacrifices out of love for him and for all those around us. Amen.
In today’s reading from the Gospel of Mark, we read that Jesus is proclaiming the gospel of God to the people of Galilee. He says, “This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.” As He passes the Sea of Galilee, He calls to Simon, his brother Andrew, and James and his brother John, saying “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” They all drop what they are doing, leaving everything behind, and follow the Lord.
As I reflect on this passage, I think of my own moment of encountering the Lord for the first time. I remember experiencing His merciful and unconditional love. It happened when I was a sophomore at Fordham University. Growing up, I had always identified as a Catholic but never really took it too seriously. It wasn’t until I was trying to decide on a major and to figure out what to do with my life that I thought, for some reason, I should ask God.
I remember going to the Blue Chapel in Keating Hall, sitting there, looking at the crucifix and asking God, “What do you want me to do with my life? What is my purpose?” Now, I had no idea what the Eucharist was or who it was, but all of a sudden, I felt a presence emanating from the tabernacle, and I distinctly remember hearing a voice -- in a telepathic way -- say to me, “Steven, I love you. I want you to be Catholic, complete your sacraments, and think about being a Catholic priest.” At that moment, I felt totally filled with peace and love: a love for all of creation. I didn’t know where it came from.
I knew the voice wasn’t mine and had to be God’s. The last thing I wanted to be was a priest. I was okay with being Catholic, but becoming a priest just didn’t fit what I saw myself doing with my life. I was hoping to get into business or politics, but the priesthood? No way.
I kept going to the Blue Chapel, He kept speaking to me and I kept doing what He asked. I got a spiritual director, enrolled in the RCIA program, and started reading everything I could about Catholicism. I began getting involved more at my home parish of St. Lucy’s in the Bronx.
I learned more about God, His Church and continued experiencing His personal love for me. I realized my soul always hungered for His Love, and that was the true fulfillment of what I had been looking for in my life. I felt that I could leave behind everything I had known before, follow Him, tell others about Him, and be another “fisher of men.”
In your own lives, I challenge you to encounter the Lord and ask what He is calling you to do. What is He asking you to leave behind so that you can follow Him more closely? If we continually strive to do this, we become witnesses of the life-giving truths of the Gospel to others, and we then become other “fishers of men.”
As I reflect on all that we have gone through as a people, as a nation, and as a church this past year of 2020, I think we all need a “little Christmas, right this very minute...” We need, now more than ever, the hope and the joy that comes to us during the Christmas season. For me, this year at the seminary, I started decorating my room for Christmas a week before Thanksgiving.
Why do many of us look forward to this season? Why does it fill us with so much hope and joy?
The painting I have included here can shed light onto the commemoration of this season. In Gerard van Honthorst’s “Adoration of the Shepherds,” I find his interplay of light and darkness captivating and meaningful for this Advent and Christmas season. In the painting, the baby Jesus is at the very center of the work. He is the source and summit of the light which breaks into the darkness and gloom in which the shepherds who surround Him find themselves.
The baby Jesus’ light radiates onto all those around Him. Those who are closest to Him, i.e., Mary and Joseph, receive His bright light shining on their faces. The shepherds, however, receive His glow to varying degrees. You can tell by their faces they are mesmerized by the baby and the light that emanates from Him.
What do I interpret from this depiction of the Nativity? In the midst of our darkness, gloom, and this fallen world, God, by way of His incarnation and birth, shines a ray of light that illumines and fills us with the hope of His redemptive love. The shepherds left everything they were doing to adore the baby Jesus, and each seems to find his own consolation by looking at Him.
I think this speaks to the reality of the Incarnation, namely that “God so loved the world, that He sent His only begotten Son” — for love of you and love of me. Jesus gave His life for us on the cross and rose on the third day, again for love of you and love of me. Despite all our sins, God breaks through, and the light overcomes the darkness. In the end, good will always triumph over evil, even when it seems like evil may have the upper hand. This is the good news of the Gospel and comes to us in the form of a weak, vulnerable, and defenseless baby.
God loves us so infinitely He became a baby. It is this truth that fills us with hope and joy this Christmas season. It is this good news of the Gospel that motivates us to be kinder to one another and seek to be better people in the New Year. It is this good news that leads a heart to conversion of life.
For us, in the midst of our own darkness, whether personal or societal, we are called to gaze at the light that is Christ, who seeks to illumine us. He beckons us to visit Him in the sacraments; He seeks to heal us and the world of our sins; He wants us to glow with His light; and He wants to transform us so we can, like Him, radiate His divine light to others. Amen.