How discerning the priesthood has helped me live life more fully
iStock/Janis AbolinsMy friends jokingly call me the lay vocation director.
It may have something to do with the fact that seven of my closest friends already have entered seminary, and I am only a sophomore in college.
While that is a beautiful thing, and I am so proud and grateful for each of those men, it has at times made my own discernment more difficult. Often, I find myself wondering: If my seven closest friends are studying to be priests, is it a sign that I need to join them, too?
The question first occurred to me back in 7th grade, when I was labeled the “Catholic kid” by my classmates. I received the label because I kept talking to people about Jesus, was outspoken about my love for religion class and expressed how much I enjoyed attending Mass. It is not the sort of nickname one seeks out, but I kind of enjoyed it.
However, it also meant that it felt like nearly everybody began asking me if I was going to be a priest. At first, without much thought, I said yes. I was close with our parish priests, I had considered it, and I thought it could be a cool life.
My parish priests, the Revs. Jack Costello and Eddie Voltz, showed me the joy of the priesthood, and in doing so, they opened my mind to the idea of a vocation. With my classmates’ encouragement, I was convinced the priesthood was the path for me. Heck, I was the Catholic kid; if not me, then who?
In middle school and the beginning of high school, I felt alone and isolated in my vocational discernment. The idea of becoming a priest was appealing in many ways, but it was also scary. Then I met Joey. We became friends early in our time at St. Louis University High School, a Jesuit preparatory school in St. Louis.
We quickly clicked, as he too had been labeled the “Catholic kid” in middle school. By the second semester of high school, we were hanging out in campus ministry every day, talking about our lives. Soon, we shared how we were both thinking about the seminary.
One day, he invited me to a retreat with his youth group. There, I met Joe, Tommy and another Jack. Each of them also expressed interest in joining the seminary, and all are currently in formation.
Meeting these other young people who were asking similar questions became critical to my own faith formation because it meant I was no longer alone. Quickly, I realized what a gift these friends were. I could share everything with them—the fears, the joys and the struggles of being a young person discerning a vocation.
It can feel overwhelming, as a high school student, to be contemplating a decision that will affect the rest of your life. But these friends helped me to put my journey into perspective; they taught me that the key is just discerning your next best step.
These friends were there for me in my vocational discernment, but more important, they walked the journey of faith with me. Even though we went to different high schools, we would hang out at least twice a week. Often our hangouts would go something like this: shoot the breeze for a while, then do something dumb (I am talking about taking a shopping cart through a Dairy Queen drive-thru). Then, sooner or later, settle down, sit in the back of my Nissan Frontier and talk about our lives, our prayers and our worries.
By our junior year, we all started talking to different girls, and eventually, we all had girlfriends. Dating meant I asked new questions about my journey: What if my vocation is as a husband and father? What would my life look like? But being in a relationship also teaches you how to love in a different way. It teaches you how to be supportive, to console and to be present. All important lessons, no matter what one’s vocation is.
As high school progressed, all of my friends and I had our share of heartbreaks and struggles. But we always knew that we had each other. We leaned on each other.
Lessons From Father Jack
While dating showed me a glimpse of married life, my longtime pastor, Father Jack Costello, showed me a glimpse of the life of a priest. I looked up to Father Jack from the moment I became an altar server in sixth grade. He was a good friend of my parents, so he would occasionally come over for dinner and would always talk with my parents after Mass.
Two years into altar serving, I earned another nickname. Father Jack called me the Smoke Man because I so often was the thurifer. At Mass after Mass, I lit the charcoal and loved every second of it. Serving quickly became one of my favorite extracurriculars, and even now, I continue to don the alb and cincture.
Through altar serving, I frequently interacted with Father Jack, helping him to set up for Mass. In each of these interactions, he would share insight into the priesthood and show me what the life of a faithful priest looks like. And on more than one occasion, he would tell me, “Jack, I have hope that you will be a priest.”
Sadly, Father Jack passed away in March 2022, at the end of my senior year. I will never forget that funeral, as it was my last time being the smoke man for Father Jack. Tears streamed down my face as I led the procession with more than 50 priests, guiding my beloved pastor out of our church for the last time.
Yet his legacy lives on at our parish, and whenever I serve, a parishioner will come up to me and say: “Jack, you just keep Father Jack’s memory alive. I am praying for your discernment.”
While this is a beautiful idea, and I appreciate those comments, they always prompt a further question in my own vocational discernment: Am I called to be a priest so that I can carry on Father Jack’s legacy?
Worries and Peace
A few months after Father Jack’s death, I left my home parish behind to attend Benedictine College in Atchison, Kan. My three best friends from high school all entered seminary, and at the beginning of the year, I began feeling an immense sense of guilt. Did I make a mistake coming here? Why do I get to live a typical college life and these guys don’t? What am I missing out on by not being in seminary?
But soon, I began to feel that God wanted me at Benedictine. It helped that I met Mike, whose two best friends had also entered college seminary. We quickly bonded over feeling some guilt over not having done that.
Through the course of the year, we became close friends, encouraging each other in our pursuit of sainthood and in living an authentic Christian life. Early in the year, I asked Mike how he maintained peace about his discernment. He told me, “You have to have a consistent prayer life.” He encouraged me to build a structured prayer routine, and he shared how he strived to spend at least a little time each day in adoration.
I took him up on it. Every day, I would try to spend 15 minutes in Eucharistic adoration, sometimes more, sometimes less.
Soon, I noticed a difference. Those worries about the future and vocation dissipated, and instead, I was filled with the peace that, at this time, I was doing the Lord’s will.
By December, Mike’s prayer had led him to decide to enter seminary at the end of the year. To me, this was devastating news. I was happy he had found peace but crushed that I would lose a friend who could share my perspective and path. I said some angry prayers to God. I begged God to send me other friends to walk with.
A Wonderful Adventure
While Mike’s departure seemed untimely, it provided an opportunity to meet new friends. Two stand out: Gabe and John Paul. Gabe, like many of my other friends, is discerning about joining the Dominican Order; he, too, has walked with me, patiently listening to my intense dilemmas as I debated whether I wanted to ask a girl out. He told me, “Jack, you have to make a decision, you cannot be wishy-washy, you have to go all in.” Finally, I happily asked out a girl about a month ago. We had been friends for a while, and she had taught me so much. Now that we are dating, she encourages me to pursue Christ and to be a better man.
John Paul has become one of my closest confidants. After briefly considering the priesthood during his high school years, John Paul has found reassurance and confidence in his call to marriage. During many late-night conversations in our dorm rooms and long car rides through the farmland of Kansas, we have shared and discussed relationships and our hopes for what is to come if we are called to family life and the lay vocation.
These conversations with Gabe and John Paul and all my other friends have reminded me of the words of St. John Paul II, which I first heard in high school: “Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure.”
I do not know what tomorrow holds. But over the years, God continually reminds me that I am my own person, with my own story. These days, my story often involves reporting on the way God is moving in other people’s lives, as I write articles that I hope will be the first step of a career in Catholic media. It is in these moments of chasing a story, digging into the weeds, and talking to people about the church and their faith lives that I find fulfillment, that I find peace.
This peace is critical to discernment. Father Jack once told me: “Jack, follow the peace. Wherever you are at peace, that is where God wants you to be.” So all I can do is follow the peace. The peace I have dating my girlfriend, the peace I find when running around interviewing people for my next story, the peace I have found being a college student at Benedictine College.
I trust that in due time, the Lord will show me where I am being called. All I know is that God loves me, has a plan for my life and will take me where I need to go. And wherever the path leads, whether it be marriage, the priesthood or the single life, it will be the greatest adventure because Christ will be walking by my side.
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