I think Michael may have a vocation,” one Catholic mother said to another.
What she meant, probably, is that Michael’s spiritual demeanor seems to be pointing toward priesthood or religious life as his vocation.
But the phrase “may have a vocation” is not quite right. Why? Because everyone has a vocation. And the way we talk about vocation matters. Further—just because Michael seems quite devout does not mean he is being called to the priesthood.
Consider the true case of a certain college-aged man who was the president of his campus ministry. Knowledgeable about his faith, devout, an enthusiastic leader, he seemed the perfect candidate for seminary. Literally dozens of people mentioned the possibility of priesthood to him. And truth be told, he was seriously considering it. But after prayerful discernment, he felt sure God was calling him to marriage.
Today he and his wife are the parents of two children, with another on the way. Their household is unmistakably Catholic; they explicitly say they are raising their children to be, first and foremost, holy men and women. God had something else in mind for that faithful young man.
This is a good illustration of the popular misconception that the most spiritually attuned among us must be called to something more than “only” being lay people. The truth is that everyone’s true vocation is perfect union with the Holy Trinity. That destiny begins on earth, and includes all of us—priests, nuns, brothers, deacons, single people, mothers and fathers.
Here is the difficulty—and the reason we sometimes use the term “vocation” incorrectly. From the outside, priests and religious seem more directly involved with the church’s work than lay people. Their work takes them “closer to the source,” so to speak. And it is true that Jesus is calling them to a different kind of intimacy with Him on earth.
But what is not true—and it is the most insidious part of our misuse of the term “vocation”—is the subtle implication that lay people are not called to lives of heroic holiness. “The priest is supposed to be holy,” we may think, or, “nuns have lots of free time to pray.”
No. We are all supposed to be holy, and we’re all supposed to “pray constantly.” But this intimacy with Christ, because of our different vocations, looks different on the outside. It may come through feeding a baby, consoling a spouse or mentoring a teen. This is why saints like Mother Teresa and St. Thérèse are so enormously appealing—their teachings unlock a simple way for all people to imbue even the smallest things in life with love.
We should be sure we use the term “vocation” with accuracy, keeping in mind that every vocation entails holiness. At the same time, we should renew our energy to promote priestly and religious vocations in our diocese. For instance, when we intercede for more priests—for that is where our need is greatest—let us not just pray “for vocations.”
The Holy Father has asked us to “be explicit” in our prayer and invitation for young men and women to consider their true vocations. Let us take this exhortation to heart and become workers in the vineyard.