Deacon Dan Wright

On the Permanency of the Permanent Deacon

A reader commented in the previous post, asking:

We have a friend who was ordained in the permanent diaconate. Does that mean he can't ever change his mind, and go on to become a priest? My husband was thinking that due to such a clerical shortage, this deacon ought (and would be the type) to pursue that, but it's called permanent diaconate for a reason--yet it seems likely there is some dispensation or form to release him from the diaconate into pursuing that?

Fortunately, to address the question we are now able to consult the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops document National Directory for the Formation, Ministry, and Life of Permanent Deacons in the United States, which was approved in 2003 and released for publication in 2005.  For those of us in the diaconate, the National Directory was a long-awaited document that answered many questions, for which the responses tended to vary regionally.

It does, in fact, seem reasonable that there should be some permission or other means available by which a widowed or celibate deacon might enter the priesthood.  After all, people do change directions in life, and it's true that many deacons possess the qualities that go into making good pastors.

I have, in fact, known of several deacons who became priests after being widowed.  Though this certainly has never been the norm, even before the release of the Directory.  There are also occasions that I am aware of in which the transition from deacon to priest didn't work out.

In one case, with which I am familiar, a deacon became a priest and then subsequently left the priesthood to remarry.  Naturally, such mishaps might give rise to practical arguments against ordaining men to the priesthood who have been accustomed to married life.  However, in my opinion, this in itself is not a strong argument against allowing deacons to become priests.  The stronger argument simply has to do with the permanence of the order.

What does the Directory have to say about all this?  Here's an excerpt that gets right to it:

Since the history of the order over the last millennium, however, has been centered on the diaconate as a transitory stage leading to the priesthood, actions that may obfuscate the stability and permanence of the order should be minimized.  This would include the ordination of celibate or widowed deacons to the priesthood.  "Hence ordination [of a permanent deacon] to the priesthood...must always be a very rare exception, and only for special and grave reasons..."

However, the document goes on to leave open the possibility of ordaining a permanent deacon to the priesthood given that the diocese adheres to the correct protocol and insures the suitability and proper education of the candidate.  Still, it is clear that the role of the permanent deacon is, typically and most suitably, to remain a deacon throughout life.

Nevertheless, in the case of the deacon in the question, I would advise him to consult with his bishop and be in prayer and discernment.  Some the Lord called as teachers, and some to be prophets.  Others he called to be evangelizers, and still others to be apostles.  By the same reasoning some are called to be priests, and others the Lord calls as deacons. 

Whatever the calling, our role--our responsibility--is to accept God's will in our lives and to rejoice in that which we do.  Our responsibility also is to discern the call of God and to be ready to go forth when he calls.

Epiphany Homily 2008: The Arrival of the Light

Rise up, your light has come! It's a funny coincidence, but at the very moment when I typed those words the doorbell rang. Rather than it being three wise men, it was UPS delivering the photographic flash that I had ordered well before Christmas. Rise up, your light has come!

In all seriousness, what we receive in today's first reading is the resounding summons that the glory of God shines upon all the peoples of the world. Epiphany is the story of the arrival of the light, and it's the story of the bringing of gifts. In both senses it connects to us, and we connect to it, in a most meaningful way.

The God in whom we believe reveals himself to us in the iridescent face and heart of Jesus, born to be the savior of all. Thus our January 6^th celebration of the Solemnity of the Epiphany, the traditional 12^th day of Christmas, begins with a tone of great joy. The long awaited light, the true light that enlightens everyone, has appeared in stark contrast to the darkness that was before.

The light that illumines the darkness is the light of truth, and of the light that is the certainty of our faith; it is that which illuminates our hearts and gives us the hope of salvation. It is the radiance that reveals the Lord Jesus to us as the one source of salvation for all people.

To us appears the redeemer of Israel who has come to tear down the walls of separation between Jew and Gentile, as the arrival of the pagan Magi attests. He has come to bring hope, and most importantly, to bring it to those without hope. He has come to establish justice among the peoples and nations of the earth, but in a more profound sense he has come to establish for those whose lives cry out for justice. Through his incarnation and birth, Jesus reveals his presence to the whole world; he shows us the way to Eternal Life. He shows us the life that is the light of all people.

The Magi followed the star to Bethlehem where it rested over the place where the infant was. Though they followed the star, it was Jesus who truly guided them. It was he who illuminated the night as they brought their gifts and worshipped him in the arms of Mary his mother.

We too bring our gifts and we worship him. However, what we have to give is what he has given us already. Just as St. Paul says that his is a stewardship of grace, we too have that for which we are responsible. We are indeed coheirs to the promise of salvation; therefore it is incumbent upon us to proclaim the Good News and to share the good things of God's kingdom with all. It is the love of Christ that compels us, for the greatest gift, the truest gift, is the gift of God who is love.

In the Epiphany light that shines in the darkest corners of life, much becomes clear and apparent. In Christ we allow the light to consume the darkness of sin, both in our lives individually and throughout the world. Perhaps the greatest gift we have is the stewardship of proclaiming and sharing the Good News of salvation, which our Lord, Jesus Christ alone, can offer.

As children of the light each of us has the duty allow the light to shine forth from our lives. We proclaim salvation not only by what we say but by how we live—how we share the gifts we have received.

Epiphany foreshadows the journey of Jesus' life. While it marks the beginning it also anticipates the Sacred Triduum—when the greatest of gifts was given. Epiphany reveals salvation as a lifelong endeavor.

We follow the light, and we celebrate the gifts we carry along the journey. Ours is the comfort of the presence of the Body of Christ; ours is the gift of the visible sign of the Church; ours is the sacramental assurance of the forgiveness of sins, and ours is the justice; it is the good that we give in return. Epiphany reveals a lighted path; it manifests the way—the only way that leads to life.

Personal Perspective on the Doctrinal Note on Some Aspects of Evangelization (Part One)

For the past couple days I've spent time reading the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith's Note on Some Aspects of Evangelization. The following reflection is the first part of a longer reflection on the Note which I will continue. I invite your comments, and I will be available for response.

Several years ago, just before my ordination to the diaconate and shortly thereafter, I worked as the congregational support director for one of Austin's inter-faith groups. Having grown out of what was once the Greater Austin Council of Churches and undergone several name changes, the organization was known, at the time of my association with it, as Austin Metropolitan Ministries. Since then it has become Austin Area Interreligious Ministries, or AAIM.

AAIM, which is independent from denominational affiliation, aspires to be sort of a hub for the entire faith community of Austin. In order to do this, AAIM holds that it is necessary to be highly respectful of the beliefs and doctrines of other traditions.

This is where I got my first real taste of religious pluralism, and where I began to debate within myself the rightness of certain positions that I encountered regularly. I didn't say so, but I was measuring everything—rightly so—by my faith as a Catholic.

A couple things were going on at the time. I had recently (within three years) graduated from one of the local Protestant seminaries—Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary—where I had attended with the spiritual support from my pastor at the time, Father Jim McCabe, a priest of the Paulist Fathers.

My reasons at the time for studying at a non-Catholic seminary had mostly to do with convenience of location and the lack, at that time, of a local Catholic program of study leading to a Masters Degree; however, during my time at the seminary my goal was to enter Catholic lay ministry and I felt that Austin Seminary was more than able to equip me to reach my goal. While there I considered myself to be an ambassador for Catholicism, though in retrospect I probably missed some good opportunities to share the faith out of a misdirected desire to respect the freedom of others in their choice to be Protestant.

I had been taught not to push matters of belief.  It wasn't good social manners, and after all I was on their territory and I was receiving Presbyterian scholarships to cover a good portion of the costs.  Honestly, I was rarely challenged by Presbyterians. 

For the most part I found that Presbyterians were pluralists on doctrine and relativists on morals.  Yet other denominations were present and I remember a classmate, now pastor of large and historic Missionary Baptist congregation in Austin, who would often tell me that it was quite unusual for Catholics to be Christians. I took his remarks with the charitable rebuke that they were sheer nonsense. Meanwhile, I kept the faith that I was there for a purpose and that God had a plan for me.

It was when I was nearing graduation that Father Jim encouraged me to enter diaconal formation. I owe much to his support initially. Just after graduation I both landed a job in lay ministry—at a parish other than Father Jim's—and I entered diaconal formation.

After two years on the staff as "Director of Evangelization and Social Outreach" at the parish where I now serve as a deacon I changed jobs and took the position with Austin Metropolitan Ministries. In it I saw the opportunity to grow in what I had chosen to do at the time, and I saw it as a great experience for a deacon-in-formation.

I was still on the staff of what had become Austin Area Interreligious Ministries when I was ordained as a deacon on June 18, 2000. Something else—something that would change how I think forever—was about to happen. Less than two months later, on the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith published Dominus Iesus.

Recall I said that I was getting acquainted with pluralism at AAIM. While there were no official requirements for membership in AAIM that one accept all things as equal in terms of the doctrines of other religions, I nevertheless found it to be an underlying tenet in terms of what the organization called "interfaith respect." Furthermore, as a member of the staff I was counseled privately not display Catholic artwork in my office.  I got by hanging above my desk a rope type rosary that a friend had given me.  However, I was warned that certain board members might object to it.

What I saw at AAIM was that instead of each member organization celebrating its identity fully, there tended to be strong encouragement aimed at reducing each religion to something that everyone might accept. Such "unofficial" pluralism was most evident when a public prayer was offered at an organization event: it had to be a homogeneous prayer that held no identifiably sectarian features. AAIM also shied away from inviting clergy, with whom we were not familiar, to pray, knowing that a prayer offered in "Jesus name" would likely offend or even enrage non-Christian members.

I recall having a conversation with the representative of a Baptist congregation in which they rejected membership in AAIM because they would not be allowed to "practice evangelism" at AAIM events. I didn't have a good answer for them because I knew that proselytism among members of the organization would be detrimental to its existence. Yet I knew that Christians had a duty to proclaim their faith.

Undoubtedly the practice of evangelism—sharing one's faith with an eye towards conversion—within an inter-faith organization needs to be done with the greatest care not to alienate others. At the time I remember being a little concerned that the Baptist congregation wanted to launch a full-fledged mission. I couldn't agree with every method used to share the faith. Again, something within me rejected the methods of proselytism.

I was torn within, having just read Dominus Iesus. Pluralism was incompatible with what I believed and what the Church clearly was teaching, but I wanted to continue in mutual endeavors and community efforts. I believed in ecumenism as a goal and ideal, but I needed further guidance. I saw an inherent unfairness in pluralism. It was the limitation of freedom that bothered me most.

On one occasion I had a visit from a board member who was a former Christian—a cradle Catholic who had converted to a non-Christian religion. She told me that at one time she was just like me but that her eyes had finally been opened to the "truth." Too often it seems that those who take the greatest offense from Christianity do not mind being offensive in its regard.  This time, unlike being challenged at the seminary, I held my peace.  I sensed my future in the balance.

The year 2000 brought a new Executive Director to AAIM, who, in a conversation with me regarding my practice of the Catholic faith, told me that she wouldn't have a problem with my orthodoxy provided that I did nothing to cross her on her views concerning gay rights and abortion rights.  Typically, I am a tremendously tolerant and patient person, and I never had any intention of bringing the aforementioned "rights" into work.  It simply wasn't the direction in which the organization was headed.

I realized that irrespective of my liking I was living in a pluralistic world, both in terms of faith and politics, but this time it really wasn't my politics that were being challenged. I realized that I had gone too far: I had asserted that in my practice of Catholicism I wholeheartedly embraced Church doctrine.

I knew that my days at AAIM were not to last, and in October of 2000 I resigned my position. I could not promote pluralism as an alternative to what my heart was telling me. Still, I believed, as I do to this day, that interfaith organizations have a great value, although there are limitations. For such organizations to succeed they must be prepared to allow each member to express his or her faith without putting pluralistic limitations in place. Only in this way can honest dialogue take place.

In view of my experience in inter-faith work, I see a great value in the CDF Note recently published. Even more I see in it an urgent call for a renewed evangelization that does not shrink away from proclaiming the truth of the Catholic faith. It's worth looking into a little further…