Vocations: We are counting on you
BY TYLER TENBARGE
Before I ever recall being asked about what I wanted to be when I grew up, my parents say I was already telling them and others: “I want to be a priest.” Many people expect a seminarian or religious sister to say that, but I think the opposite is often true.
I have so many early memories of making “hosts” with my siblings at home, using the cap of a spice container to flatten and cut out circles in slices of bread; and memories of holding our parish’s “Vocations Chalice” at the dinner table as our family prayed for vocations.
I also cherish memories of my late pastor, Fr Francis Schroering, and then-seminarian (now my pastor) Tony Ernst encouraging me with kind smiles and confident nudges in my desire to become a priest—just like them.
But as early as fourth and fifth grade, into high school and beyond, I began desiring other things. I wanted a career that enabled me to “use my gifts” or to be able to share my life with a wonderful woman. And these are good desires. But they easily eclipsed a desire for priesthood. I just couldn’t see it any more.
All the while, my family, my parish and even some of my closest friends occasionally asked what I thought God’s plan was for my life. They didn’t push—well, some seemed to push.
And yet if it wasn’t for my pastor and good friend Anthony setting me up for a vocations retreat at our local seminary when I was in high school, or for my grandmother’s and mother’s constant, unknown prayers, or my religious education teacher and confirmation sponsor’s unconditional support and encouragement, I wonder whether my mind and heart would have been docile enough for God’s voice to be heard.
And the story doesn’t end there.
I cannot—and probably should not—enumerate my personal challenges discerning priesthood since applying to study for the diocese of Evansville, Indiana. Since 2008 so many other wonderful options have called my name … even while I have been in seminary formation.
But there is a constant refrain.
People from my hometown, members of my family, various seminary and diocesan superiors, and my school friends have all been there, encouraging me to continue in my desire to serve as a priest, in my diocese. Without the letters and visits and invitations and especially the many, anonymous prayers, I wonder whether I would continue to see Jesus pointing to his flock nestled in southern Indiana.
God intervened during key moments on high school retreats, in my work with Future Farmers of America after high school, in conversations with friends and notes from home. And he called me. I heard his voice. I still do.
But amid so many other good things competing for one’s choice, I wonder how many others Christ may be calling—but who just aren’t disposed to hear him.
I count on the people in my life to help me hear God’s call. Likewise, the young and old men and women you know—in your family, in your parish, or even in your classes or at work—are counting on you to nudge or remind (and, maybe, occasionally, push) them to consider not just where they may see themselves, but to ask where God may be calling them to go.
Tyler Tenbarge, a third-year theology student. This article originally appeared in The Message, newspaper of the dioceses of Evansville, Indiana.
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