Hands down, the best thing about my job is the opportunity it gives me to meet so many of our seminarians, priests and religious and to have the privilege of calling a good number of them friends. Their willingness to give their whole lives for the sake of Christ and his church is a constant source of inspiration to me.
One of the happiest days in each year is attending diaconate and priestly ordinations and Friday night’s ordination of my dear friend, Deacon Justin Faehrmann, was no exception. Indeed, it was the most joyful celebration I have witnessed in some time. That the church was overflowing with clergy and congregants is testament not only to the big-hearted new deacon and his ability to connect with people, but also to the wonderful community of faith that is St Joachim’s, Lidcombe.
In the weeks leading up to the ordination, the parish was busy preparing not only the evening itself, but also busy in prayer.
At the Sunday Mass prior to the ordination, Father Bijoy Joseph encouraged parishioners to pray and fast in the week leading up to Deacon Justin’s ordination. “Fasting is connected to every sacrament,” he said, “so make sure you offer some type of fast for Justin this week.” The parish also held a dedicated holy hour on the Wednesday night so that parishioners could come together to pray specifically for that intention.
In his words of thanks following the ordination, Deacon Justin asked all present to pray for those currently in seminary, and those who might be discerning a call to enter. “Don’t just pray once,” he exhorted, “keep praying vocations to priesthood and religious life.”
Given that Vocations Awareness Week begins this Sunday, I thought I would share one of my favourite ways to pray for vocations. I began this little tradition a decade or so ago, since the first of my World Youth Day 2008 friends has been ordained.
Taking advantage of the ability of a deacon to bless devotional items, my tradition for diaconate ordinations is to buy a rosary, gift it to the deacon, ask him to bless it and return it to me. I then use the rosary to pray for him between his diaconate and priestly ordinations. I probably have a dozen or so sets of deacon-blessed beads. Every time I pick them up, even long after their priestly ordination, it is a reminder to me to lift them up in prayer.
Every time I pick up the set with the tiny, white beads, I remember the shop in Vatican City I bought them from, the deacon I gifted them to, and say a prayer for him.
Then there’s the wooden pair with each individual bead shaped like a rose. I remember that the deacon who received these wrote me a beautiful card when he returned them, saying that he blessed them on the night of the ordination and that I could phone his mother to verify that it was true. When I use those, I pray for the deacon and his dear mum.
There’s another wooden set, sadly broken into a few separate pieces. I don’t want to part with them. I had sent them to a friend who was ordained overseas and he posted them back along with a beautiful, wooden triptych of Our Lady that he had also blessed. It remains on my desk till this day and I pray for him every time I look at it.
There’s a glow-in-the-dark rosary that I didn’t realise was glow-in-the-dark until the first time I went to use them. The deacon who blessed them still makes jokes about Catholic kitsch.
I almost didn’t get the fancy black pair back because the deacon recipient didn’t want to part with them. They are my glovebox set.
And then there’s the green set that I feel a little guilty about. I picked the colour because the deacon I bought them for reminded me of Gumby.
It’s just a small thing, but the beads are a tangible connection between me and the person for whom I am praying. As my stack of beads builds up, I am reminded of God’s providence in sending labourers to his vineyard and prompted to ask him to send more. You can never have too many rosaries, after all.