“Really?” I said, genuinely surprised. “Well, you just haven’t met enough Catholics!” She looked doubtful, and I laughed. “No, really,” I continued, “I know plenty of Catholics who talk about Jesus this way.”
That was true. The new friends I had made in my parish, and our RCIA leader, were serious Christians who worshiped with eagerness and fervor and sought the Lord’s will in their lives. On the other hand, I knew what Melinda meant. A “typical” evangelical Christian and a “typical” Catholic do not necessarily employ the same vocabulary when they speak about their Lord and Savior. But once we knew each other well enough to share details of our faith lives, we realized we were often saying the same things: I love God … I love my faith … the Mighty One has done great things for me.
I said those words so often to myself: The Mighty One has done great things for me. I remember driving to Mass one weekday evening when I was still a newish Catholic. The sun was just beginning to droop in the sky behind me as I drove into town. The fall weather was crisp and full of the promise of my favorite season. Everything felt peaceful and right and whole: my marriage was in the best shape it had ever been in, my two little girls were healthy and happy, and I loved being a mother. But there was another feeling, too, something that felt even bigger, overarching, and underlying everything I did. As I drew closer to the church, to my new parish—my new home, I thought—I was overcome with a feeling of anticipation, a quivering kind of bliss. I couldn’t wait to get to the church, could hardly contain myself as I thought of the Eucharist. I couldn’t wait to be with the Lord.
The ability to go to Mass whenever I wanted was an enormous privilege. I was going to be with Jesus again, to receive his Body and Blood, and spend time with him in prayer. I felt like a kid at Christmas. The words of St. Augustine were fitting and right:
Stir us up, and call us back; inflame us, and draw us to Thee; stir us up, and grow sweet unto us; let us now love Thee, let us run after Thee.6
My life seemed too good to be true. The ugliness and pain of my past was erased every time I received Jesus. In the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, in my encounters with him in the confessional, or immersed in prayer at home, I was lavished with undeserved gifts. Was this what Jack had felt when he was falling in love with God?
Practicing What They Preach
Priests are only human. Like the rest of us they are imperfect, but the priests I have known are overwhelmingly open, generous, faithful men who love Jesus and fervently desire to serve God. They express their love in a variety of ways, according to their gifts and how the Lord wishes to use them, but some possess such a visible and profound love for the Lord that they are beacons to others.
I had been Catholic for a couple of years when I met newly ordained Fr. Joe. I was on the RCIA team, and he was our team director. I had an appointment with him one day to talk about some RCIA business, but first I stopped in at the church to pray. I then headed next door to the parish offices. Fr. Joe must have seen me coming from the direction of the church, because he said, “Have you been visiting him?”
Visiting him? I’d never really heard it put that way. I was “praying before the Blessed Sacrament.” I was “at adoration.” I was … well, what was I? I was a Christian, for Pete’s sake, and I was even a Catholic now—why did Father’s phrasing sound funny?
It took me a moment, and then I realized what it was. Fr. Joe’s description of my time with Jesus didn’t sound like most Catholics’ description of adoration. His way sounded so much more personal. That resonated and was what I loved about it. I did feel that personal connection, too, but I’d rarely heard a Catholic, apart from Jack, express it that way. Fr. Joe’s easy manner gave me permission to talk about falling in love with Jesus. Such vocabulary was freeing. And it was just as Catholic, just as appropriate and accurate, I realized with relief, as more formal ways of expressing our love for him.
I remember many occasions, after that day in Fr. Joe’s office, when I stopped in at the church to visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Fr. Joe was often there, too, spending time with his Beloved, living and practicing what he preached. Fr. Joe became my spiritual director, and to this day, when I see him for confession or to seek counsel, I am always struck by the quiet, holy, and tangible love for Jesus that flows out of him.
Fr. Joe’s love for the Lord had a powerful effect on my friend Danae as well. In high school, Danae was attracted to a non-Catholic, evangelical brand of Christianity and fell away from her Catholic faith. Ironically, it was precisely Danae’s deep love for Jesus that left her susceptible to wandering. Providentially, it was a Catholic, evangelical priest’s deep love for Jesus that helped to bring her back. Danae said:
I just felt like Catholicism was about rules and not about Jesus. I was attracted to my Protestant friends’ intimacy with the Lord. I didn’t see many Catholics who had that (I failed to notice that many of them did—I just wasn’t looking in the right places). The Protestants seemed to have the lingo, and they knew their Bibles so well. I didn’t know any Catholics who read the Bible (again, I failed to notice that we read from it every day at Mass, not to mention the Divine Office). I just wanted a church that emphasized a relationship with Jesus. And whenever I had questions about the teachings of the Catholic Church, there were never answers that satisfied me.
Danae’s faith in Christ was vibrant, but she couldn’t see relevance in her Catholic upbringing. She continued:
Once I left home for college, I stopped attending Mass, except for occasionally playing piano for the student Mass. After my freshman year, I was home for the summer and my best friend and I wanted to start a youth group. My parents suggested we contact a new priest in our parish. I had no interest in a Catholic youth group, but for some reason I gave that priest a call. He was so excited about our idea because he’d been praying to the Holy Spirit to start a young adult group. I explained that we weren’t keen on the Catholic faith. He said that was okay, he would just meet with us and talk. That began a summer of meetings where I encountered the Catholic faith in a way that I never had before. Fr. Joe talked in that “evangelical style” but also answered every single one of our questions with facts and information that could not be disputed.
Danae and her friend ran head-on into the reality that Catholicism is vibrant and alive. Fr. Joe offered comprehensive, intelligent responses to all of Danae’s questions, demonstrating that faith and reason work seamlessly together in the Catholic Church. He made a tangible difference in Danae’s life:
… he showed me what it meant to have a relationship with the Lord in the Catholic Church. It’s hard to argue against the beauty and awesomeness of the truth that is found there. Hard to argue that you can best have a relationship with the Lord through the life-giving sacraments, especially the Eucharist. Basically, God used a holy priest (and other great witnesses) to open my eyes to what was always right in front of me. He helped my head and my heart understand that the Catholic Church is all about Jesus and that the greatest intimacy we can have is receiving his precious Body and Blood.
Danae would later make a similar difference in the faith of her future husband. She marks her friendship with Fr. Joe as a turning point.
Walking the Walk
Simply by living the faith that they love, holy priests attract our attention. As Pope Francis said:
We know well that with Jesus life becomes richer, and that with him it is easier to find meaning in everything. This is why we evangelize. A true missionary, who never ceases to be a disciple, knows that Jesus walks with him, speaks to him, breathes with him, works with him. He senses Jesus alive with him in the midst of the missionary enterprise. Unless we see him present at the heart of our missionary commitment, our