My parents were Catholics and had a strong faith. For them being a Catholic meant going to Church once a week and doing daily prayers. It also meant that they tried to live a perfect life where they treated others the way that any Christian should. I do not recall that they ever read a Bible Story to me and I do not think that we even had a Bible. Being a Catholic seemed to be about listening to the priest explaining God and our faith, as well as traditional prayers and Catholic customs such as the Rosary and Novenas. We heard from the Bible every Sunday when the priest would read a story from the Bible and explain it. We depended a lot on the priest.
As a child, it was easy for me to believe in God. He was an old man with a beard that sat on a throne in heaven. Jesus was his son who came down to earth to tell us how we should live. Then there was his mom, that was the best mom the world had ever seen. Believing in God was a simple thing. I did not question any theological matters or even the existence of God. I accepted God and he was a vital part of my life. This was most likely because of the influence of my family and the Catholic school I was at.
I think that I always had a fascination with priests. They had such an important role. After all, they were God’s representatives on Earth. I would sit in church and watch them. There was something about them that could not be explained. They had a special grace and a style about them. It was like they were living saints and even angels. While some boys had astronauts or firefighters as heroes and wanted to be like them, priests were my heroes.
When I was about 11, we moved to Ireland. This country was very Catholic and the Church has a lot of influence on its politics and social life. This made me see priests as men who had a special status where they were listened to and respected. I always thought that people treated priests as if they were royal and the answer to everything. Their status impressed me and made me think that they can use their power to make the world a better place to live in.
I was a child in the 1980s and I could see that my parents were worried about things like unemployment and inflation. There was a lot of fear that there would be a nuclear war at any time. It was a scary time to be a child. It did not help that a teacher told us at school that we will all be unemployed and have no future. When I looked at the news, I could see nothing but bad news. People were starving in Africa and there were so many people in the world that had no human rights. All this made me think that there was no hope. The world was falling apart. The world was doomed!
I was very close to my grandmother. She could see how afraid I was about the future. I remember that she would tell me about her childhood and how bad things were then. She would smile and say that even though things looked bleak, I had a better childhood than she had. There will always be problems in the world. There will always be evil people. This being said, we must never forget that there were good people that did good things. She told me that we always had to have hope and be optimistic and do our bit to make this world a better place to live in.
One thing my grandmother did was visit the church with me. There was a special atmosphere in the Church when there was no mass. It was so quiet and peaceful. The only sound you could hear were echoes of footsteps when people walked or when someone coughed. A few old people would be in the Church as they silently prayed. We would always light a candle and my grandmother would recite some prayers. I would just sit in silence and hope that God would somehow speak to me. I could never hear him, but in a way, I felt his presence. I found out that being in a church was an escape from the world outside. It was a bubble of heaven.
I decided my destiny before I even was a teenager. I wanted to be a priest or a religious brother. In this way, I knew what to aim for and what life could offer me. If I was in a religious order, I could do what I could do to change the world. I could be a friend to the poor and oppressed. I could be a spiritual leader for people. I could change the world and the lives of countless people. I was quite confident that I had what it took to be in the religious life. I believed in God. I was intelligent enough. I wanted to make this life more like it was heaven.
It was a tradition in Ireland that at least one child from every family would enter the religious life. So when I told my parents that I wanted to join a religious order, they were delighted. My mother was very enthusiastic. She told me that she would support me as good as she could. She also told me that I would have to work on being a better Catholic and not get into trouble. I had to be an example to others. In other words, she wanted me to live as a saint. When you think that I was just 12 when I decided that I would be a priest or a brother, it was easy to be a saint. I lived in a rural area of Ireland, so it was limited to what trouble I could get into.
My friends had remixed conditions. Some thought that I would be a great priest because they thought I had a good heart. Some could not understand how I could. They thought that I was too occupied with how I looked. Some thought that it was strange that I wanted to be a priest and was a Madonna fan as well. The strange thing was that when everyone knew that I wanted to be a priest, my status changed. I still had friends, but it was as if I was not one of the boys anymore. Some were afraid of what to say to me, and others thought that I just thought I was something special. They thought that I was just wanting special attention.
Since I told everyone my plans, everyone had an opinion on it. They also had expectations. They expected me to be a saint. They wanted me to be humble and spend my time in prayers and meditation. They did not think I should do anything bad. I should be a good example for everyone. This meant I had to say no to anything materialistic and worldly. This was nothing that I could do or wanted to do. I still spent a long time in front of a mirror making sure that my hair looked perfect. I still was a Madonna fan, I did not see this as something wrong. I thought it was important that I was normal like anyone else. I had to be human. Many did not see it this way. This meant that I became an outsider.
My ambition was to be a saint. I did not say this to anyone. I figured I would be a priest and help people. I could even help solve things like world poverty and make sure that there were human rights. I would spread the message of Jesus that we should love God and love each other. In time, I would be elected the Pope, and if not, I am sure that when I died, the Church would make me a saint. I do not know if it was wrong to want to be a saint, but I thought it was a good and noble ambition. Maybe I was not humble, but at the same time, my ambitions would make the world a better place to live in.
In the olden days, when a boy said they wanted to enter the religious life, they were taken to a place where the Church would take care of them and train them. This no longer happened. The Church thought it was bad taking a child from its family and give the child a religious life at such an early age. I did not like this. I was impatient. I wanted to enter the religious life already now. My grandmother would smile when I said this. She would tell me that I needed to live life first. I had to enjoy the joys of being a teenager. Only when I had the experience of being in the real world, can I be a spiritual leader that understood people.
I did not listen to my grandmother. I wrote to all the religious orders I could. I found out that when someone wanted to be a priest, it was called a vocation. Each religious order had someone that took care of vocations. I knew that fewer and fewer people wanted to be a priest, brothers or a monk. I figured that they would be happy to get a potential member. I wanted to get as much information from different religious orders, so I could choose which one suited me the most and which of them wanted to have me. It was exciting every time I got some information back. I would sit in the kitchen and read the information several times. While I read them, I would summarize them to my mother. She would tell me not to get so excited, as she told me that I had years to decide. She was not ready to send her son away. This annoyed me as I wanted to go now.
When I was a teenager, I loaned a book about the life of Saint Bernadette. She was a young poor girl that lived in Lourdes in France. She was often sick as a child but was a good person. When she was out gathering wood one day, she saw a nice lady appear. It turns out that it was the mother of Jesus that appeared to Bernadette. The local authorities did not believe that Mary would appear to a poor girl. Bernadette was harrassed and ridiculed. Even the Church questioned her. Bernadette continued to visit Mary. People flocked to the site and prayed with Bernadette. After the apparitions, Bernadette became a nun and was a humble person. She died young. Today, millions of people flock to Lourdes.
I was fascinated by Saint Bernadette and to be honest somewhat jealous. I wanted Mary to appear to me! I wanted God to speak to me in the same way. I know this was very vain and showed a side of me that was not good. I considered it a sin that I wanted to be as special as Saint Bernadette. Despite this, I could not stop the feelings I had. I hoped all the time that Mary would appear to me.
It was shortly after that I read the story of Saint Bernadette that there were people that saw a statue of Mary move close to where we lived. My Dad decided that we should go and check it out. I knew that this would be my chance to have a special communication with Mary just like Saint Bernadette did. I was told that people could see the statue shaking a bit and this was a holy sign from Mary. When we came, we stood with hundreds of other people and looked at the statue. People just stared at the statue and waited while they mumbled some prayers. I was excited! This was Mary's chance to speak with me or at least move. While other people could see the statue move, I did not see a thing. The atmosphere of the faith that people showed was special. I was disappointed that I never did see her move. My Dad could see my disappointment and told me faith should not depend on seeing a stone statue move or waiting for an apparition. Faith is deeper. Besides that, if you look at one spot for too long, your eyes will deceive you and you will most likely see it move.
Some vocation directors from religious orders visited me. They would tell me that they were delighted that I was interested in religious life. I was also told that I was too young, but they wanted to keep in contact with me and accept me in their order when I was 18. Until then, I should strengthen my faith and pray to do God's will.
They explained that a vocation or being called to the priesthood is not something that a person decided. A true vocation is when you were called by God himself to dedicate your life to religious service. In other words, I had to make sure that being a priest was not my wish, but I was accepting the call from God. I had to accept God's wish to use me as his servant.
I was sure that God was calling me!
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