"Here I am, Lord. Here I am. I come to do your will." (see Heb 10:7)

        Do you remember when John Paul II visited St. Louis? It was a Tuesday and Wednesday in late January of 1999. The sun had broken through the clouds after days of miserable weather and it seemed as though the entire city had come out to meet the man many called “Great.” Perhaps you were there, lining the streets while you held a papal umbrella, awaiting the arrival of the pope-mobile. Perhaps you were at what-was-then the Kiel Center, where 20,000 youth were singing and praising to the greatest of Catholic jam-sessions ever to be held atop Blues’ ice. You may remember the electricity and anticipation in that building—which seemed too small at the time to contain any of the energy which the Holy Spirit was pouring upon us. You may remember it—or it may all just be a blur.

        But you remember seeing him. Or, at least, pictures of him. You remember how brilliantly white his clothes were and how he floated, although gingerly, to the papal chair and the altar, where he would greet you—and it felt like he was greeting you—in a deep, low voice that sounded more pure than any loving grandfather’s praise. How could we not respond in kind, saying, “John Paul Two, we love you!”

        There was something about him—something he had, something he knew. You could see it—and you couldn’t help but smile like a young child that had just received a scoop of ice cream. You could see that he loved everyone he saw. He didn’t care where you lived or what your parents did for a living. It didn’t matter to him whether you attended Parkway or Lindbergh, SLUH or Borgia, Public school or Private. He loved you. He loved you so much that it didn’t matter to him what you were doing, so much as who you were. And what were you? God’s child. He knew that. And he loved you for it.

        Yet, he knew as well that he was God’s child. Yes, the Pope—grand, awesome, famous Pope—he knew that he was God’s; a small, little child in His Eyes. He knew the Father who created him, the Son who called him, the Spirit who continued to give him life. And what a great knowledge this was—a knowledge that, with it, came great power: the power to love unconditionally. For, you see, the Pope knew he was loved. He knew it through and through. Beyond any doubt.

        Yet, there was once a time when John Paul II was not the Pope. Or a bishop. Or a priest. Or a seminarian. Or an adult. There was a time when John Paul II—the man who would be Pope—was just a child. A child like you and I once were. And, like you and me, he had questions. Many of them:

        “God, are you out there?” “Father, can you hear me?” “Jesus, what are you like?” “God, why is there suffering?” “Lord, what do you want me to do with my life?”

        I am certain that John Paul asked these questions. We all do. Yet, there was one more question that he asked that many today are too scared to ask: “Jesus, do you want me to be a priest?” Or a brother? Or a sister?

        Maybe he asked this question because he loved to receive the Eucharist. Maybe, during his years of going to Church, he started thinking to himself: “Hey, I could do that!” Maybe he wanted to help people, to serve people in some awesome way. Maybe he loved to pray. Perhaps he liked to sing when he came home from Mass. Or perhaps, when he was really little, he played pretend church with his friends or family. In any case, there was that moment in John Paul’s life where the desire descended upon his heart: “Lord, are you calling me?” Maybe you have had some of these same thoughts and experiences.

        In fact, as any young man, I’m sure that John Paul wanted to get married. After all, as the Pope, he wrote some of the most beautiful words about marriage. On more than one occasion, he said (and I paraphrase here) “when a man and a woman are united in marriage, they experience one freakin-awesome mystery.” Ok, he didn’t say it exactly like that, but he did write over 600 pages about the beauty of marriage in his great work: the Theology of the Body. That’s like two-hundred 3-page essays. He HAD to have loved marriage.

        Yet, he saw something beyond marriage. He saw a Love so wide that it spread to the horizon and reached heaven itself. He wasn’t concerned about what he was giving up. He was focused on something more. He saw Jesus, offering him a love which John Paul saw as so incredibly awesome and filling—even, yes, even more than a human wife could give him. He saw that, in religious life, he received the best gift of all: the marriage to God himself here on earth. (!!!)

        So often, we think of priesthood or religious life in terms of “giving up” things—sex, fancy cars, children… But this is such an empty view! That’s like telling an engaged man that he is about to give up every woman on the face of the earth. What man would then enter into this, if we thought of marriage like that? Yes, there is sacrifice in marriage (and this is VERY important), but there is, with sacrifice, love, and romance, and flirting, and laughing, and joy, and sharing, and embracing, and the amazing realization that you would die for your spouse—and that they would die for you. That is why men and women enter into marriage; they want to give their entire self—their entire life!—to this, their closest friend and most amazing love. They would die for them.

        And this is precisely why the priest and the religious brother and the religious sister give their entire lives to Jesus and the Church. John Paul saw marriage in the priesthood. He saw romance in it—not with women, but with Love itself: the Trinity. He saw romance here. And flirting and laughing and joy and sharing and embracing and the realization that he would die for God and that God would die for him (in fact, God has: in Jesus Christ on the Cross!). John Paul and all the saints who have given their life to Jesus as priests, brothers, and sisters (and there are a lot of them!) saw an amazing life in this—a life of love, unity, fulfillment, joy, adventure! And an amazing death. For, like the husband that must die for his bride, the priest must die for his Church. That is, he must give himself completely to her, just like Jesus did on the Cross.

        Truly, I think priests and brothers and sisters are superheroes. They won’t admit it. But they are. In fact, the priest is better than a superhero; after all, what superhero can turn bread and wine into the body and blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ??!

        Is this an awesome and scary thought? Absolutely! It is an amazing adventure and a great gift. I have received a great taste of this as, for a full year now, I have embraced this life, that of becoming a priest. And it is the best thing I have ever done. It is a great adventure, a great battle, and a great love! Sure, I want to be married . But, as a wise priest once told me: “how can a priest be called ‘Father’ if he never wanted to be a husband in the first place? Or, how can a sister become a religious ‘mother’ if she never wanted to be a wife?” Truly, the best priests and brothers and sisters are those that wanted to be married. But, human love is not enough for them. They are being called to that Divine Love.

        And so, my thoughts turn back to John Paul. I wonder whether he was afraid on that night that he asked God the question, the question of whether Jesus was calling him to be a priest. I think John Paul was, at least a little afraid—if not a lot, just like I was. For, what if…. what if the answer came back: “Yes. I want you to become a priest.” ? Do I say “no” to that? And what would it mean for me to say, “Ok, yes, Lord. Here I am. I come to do your will.” ?

           If, after all of this, you say, “No, Lord, I can’t do that.” He will respect that, but—if you are called—he will continue to ask you. For he needs you, he wants you, and he loves you—he wants the best for you (and what he wants IS the best for us!). Likewise, he knows, and I know, and you know that it only takes a little bit of time to explore what it is like to be a priest or a brother or a sister, while it takes a much greater bit of courage to conquer the fear of something so great and divine.

        And if, after all of this, you say (like Mary), “Yes, Lord, be it do me according to your Word,” then, rejoice!

        Maybe you have already stood up and responded to his call—by saying “yes” to God in prayer, or by telling your friends or family, or by even standing up at the Steubenville conference. And you may now be thinking: “What was I doing???!” Stop there: don’t second-guess yourself. God was working in you and you were responding. It was real and it is still very real. The proposal is there to explore.

        Two years ago, I stood up… in front of 20,000 people at the Pro-Life March in DC. The priest at Mass asked if anyone had thoughts about becoming a priest or a brother or a sister—and to stand up if they had. And I stood up… in front of everyone… and I don’t regret it for a second. I had finally admitted to God, to my friends, and to myself that I wanted to receive God’s love by serving and pleasing him as a priest. Was I nervous? Heck yeah. But I wanted to check out his invitation. I wanted to see this love that I had heard so much about. And so, I did. I started asking questions. I started talking with priests and seminarians and old ladies at church who prayed for all of them. And I prayed. And prayed. And prayed.

        And I have not once been disappointed!

        Be open, and you too will find a great treasure in His Love awaiting you!

John Paul II, Servant of God: pray for us!

“Each of you has a special mission in life, and you are each called to be a disciple of Christ. Many of you will serve God in the vocation of Christian married life; some of you will serve him as dedicated single persons; some as priests and religious. But all of you must be the light of the world. To those of you who think that Christ may be inviting you to follow him in the priesthood or the consecrated life I make this personal appeal: I ask you to open your hearts generously to him; do not delay your response. The Lord will help you to know his will; he will help you to follow your vocation courageously. … Remember: Christ is calling you; the Church needs you; the Pope believes in you and he expects great things of you!”
- Pope John Paul II - to the youth of St. Louis , Jan 26, 1999

God love you!