Kneeling with the Faithful

I was ordained a deacon in 2012, but my diaconate journey began long ago in three phases.  

The first was in high school at Corpus Christi Academy where most of my teachers were Benedictine priests, holy men who were dedicated to the education and well-being of young men.  They taught the value of “Ora et Labora,” that is, pray and work, prayers and works of mercy of every kind for my neighbor, for the stranger, for the poor, for our enemies, for the world. I wanted to be a part of their noble work. 

After graduation I was accepted by the order as a seminarian and was sent to St. Joseph Abbey in St. Benedict, Louisiana, to attend the collegiate seminary administered by the monks of the abbey.  

After two wonderful, insightful years, a wise monk told me that I was better made for the world, not the monastic life. “Your purpose is to confront directly the vagaries that roam the lives of people,” he would say.  “In what way I would ask.”  “Go find out, out there,” he said. 

I left and attended the University of Houston, graduating with a BA in English, and afterward entered graduate school with a teaching fellowship. Then began my second phase. 

One of my roommates was part of the University’s Speaker’s Bureau and arranged to have Cesar Chavez come to the university to give a speech. His message of justice for the poor, for migrant farm workers, left me enthralled. I left school and became an organizer for his organization, the United Farm Workers Union, and got to know Chavez on a personal level. Through the next four years, I was a staff member of the union. 

Chavez went to Mass and received Holy Communion nearly every day. He was a practicing Catholic. He and his wife Helen had eight children. Whenever he made speaking engagements around the country, he always made time to go to Mass and receive the Eucharist. 

Chavez taught me how to be a good Catholic in the face of adversity. He preached non-violence. He believed in prayer, believed in the power of the rosary and saw himself as a little soul, ready to sacrifice all for the benefit of poor farm workers and their families. He was a servant of the poor and needy. 

When he would engage in month-long fasts, his only nourishment was the Body and Blood of Christ. He was totally grounded in the Good News of Jesus. By his example, I saw what it was to be a Catholic with faith in action, to love, to sacrifice, to be humble, to pray, to bring peace, to be brave in the face of danger and anger. He taught me the beauty of Catholicism and what it was to be a little soul who could do great things. Without knowing it at the time, this was one of the foundations of my future diaconate.  

In my third phase, I met a beautiful young lady, Catalina “Cat,” who was a news anchor at the Telemundo station in Houston. Within eight months we were married and she taught me and is still teaching me how to live in the light of Christ, loving the positive, the upbeat, loving the happiness of family, of children, loving the Church and her people.  

She taught me never to lose hope even in the face of potential disaster, as when our youngest daughter needed a bone marrow transplant to save her life. I was in the middle of my diaconate studies when our daughter became sick. I was ready to quit because I was so distraught and couldn’t concentrate on my studies. Cat wouldn’t have it. Cat never doubted that our daughter would live and that I would become a deacon. She gave both of us strength. Nine years later our daughter is a healthy, beautiful young lady.  

Now I am the deacon at St. Helena of the True Cross of Jesus in Corpus Christi where I assist at Mass, sometimes preach, baptize children and lead the efforts to take Holy Communion to the sick, the elderly and the homebound, and offer classes on our faith, all under the leadership of Bishop Michael Mulvey and our pastor, Father Richard Libby.  

My brother deacons and I are proud to be the fruit from the living roots of the diaconate. Our history reaches back to the earliest days of the Church when seven worthy men were called on to assist the apostles in distributing the Eucharist and serving the church and its members in spiritual and bodily needs.  

The first martyr of the Church, St. Stephen, was an ordained deacon who died by stoning in 34 AD. In the article, “Deacons Yesterday and Tomorrow,” published in 1995 in Christifidelis, Duane L.C.M. Galles writes that from 432 to 684 AD there were thirty-seven popes who were deacons when they ascended to the papacy, three of them became priests after becoming pope, the rest remained deacons. St. Leo the Great and St. Gregory the Great were deacons when they were elected pope. 

From the earliest days of the Church through the Middle Ages deacons were a vital part of Catholicism. 

In the gospel of Mark and Matthew, when Jesus is tempted by the devil, we have a foreshadowing of the diaconate. After the devil left Jesus, angels came and ministered to Him. In the original Greek the word for ‘ministered’ in both gospels is “dikonoun,” that is the angels came and took care of Jesus, served him, waited on him, or translated literally, the angels “deaconed” Jesus. They were his “diakonos,” that is, his servants.

We deacons, mostly married, who have children, who work in secular jobs, are the little souls inspired by the angels to bring good works to God’s people, to bring mercy and help, to dry the tears of the bereaved, to serve and be one with the faithful as we kneel with them at Mass, when bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ.