I struggle with how much to write about deacon formation. One might think the process would be a wellspring of theological reflection, ripe for blogging. It actually is. I did write about my initial call that led me down this direction. And reflection assignments I’ve written for deacon formation have inspired a few posts here, too. There is also our burgeoning perinatal loss ministry, which has found its way into pixels a few times. However, these aren’t really about the formation process itself.
Am I Neglecting a Responsibility?
We often get asked about diaconate formation. Naturally, people are curious; after all, not everybody does this. Interestingly, the most curious people tend to be somewhat like us — our age, often with young children. It seems they are discerning the diaconate, too.
- What’s the formation process like?
- How much time does it take?
- Are you gone a lot?
- How does that work with your children?
In the United States, the average age of permanent deacons is now nearly 64 years of age. In nearly every other region of the world, the average age of permanent deacons is in the mid-40s. Maybe I have a responsibility to write about the process to encourage younger couples like us that they can totally do this. But, I haven’t.
At the recent Catholic New Media Conference, Lisa and I had the opportunity to sit on an otherwise distinguished panel of bloggers. One person asked about our respective ”official” relationships with the Church, our local parishes and dioceses. Most panelists didn’t have one, aside from being a parishioner. However, through the diaconate formation process, we do. We discussed how that relationship impacts the topics about which we write. In that moment I realized not only that I don’t write about diaconate formation but also why I don’t write about it.
Why Not?
The formation process is an intimate exercise in ongoing discernment. Some days we feel more called than others. A weekend with the monks at Conception Abbey is often spiritually energizing. I could go on and on about how beautiful the liturgies in the Basilica are, how brilliant and inspiring the monks are, and how enriching the classwork is. On the other hand, the logistical challenges of meeting the demands of the formation process while caring for small children is often spiritually draining. I could go on and on about the stresses of that, too.
We could simply choose to write about the positives, of which there are many. However, our site is The Practicing Catholic, not The Perfect Catholic. It would be disingenuous to present the sunshine while neglecting the storms. While we have been showered with blessings in the process, it’s been a real spiritual battle. “You know the devil doesn’t want you to be a deacon,” a wise-beyond-his-years priest friend once noted to me. Everyone in our class can point to specific ways they have been challenged — family, job, health, anything and everything. I read The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis for the first time last year, and it really resonated with me.
Yet, publicly airing our occasional struggles with the process would display a profound lack of humility, gratitude, and charity. Indeed, diaconate formation is a process. We shouldn’t pretend that the wisdom of every step is immediately crystal clear. Chronicling the whole thing online would seem disrespectful to that dynamic. Our thoughts about the first year, for example, might be quite different now than they were then. Also, our diocese makes a significant investment in us, and our bishop has been extremely supportive of our involvement. We wouldn’t want anything we might write in ignorance to reflect negatively on our diocese.
What Do You Think?
Then again, maybe I’m just copping out, afraid of making us the “young couple” poster children for diaconate formation out of some false sense of humility. If writing about the process could give encouragement to others who might also be sensing a call to the diaconate, perhaps I just need to get over myself. Maybe I should I write more about the diaconate? Thoughts?
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Nice post, dear. There’s a case to be made for writing more. Promise to censor all the stupid stuff that comes out of my mouth, okay?
I don’t know what you mean. ;^)
Joel, coming from one who has a husband who works for the church, I offer this: keep a private journal (electronic or otherwise). Then, after some time has passed, maybe several weeks or months, see if there’s an entry that warrants posting. That time gives you perspective. When representing the church in such an official capacity, I think one has to consider the long-lasting implications. That’s just my Texas two-cents!
I agree with Mark S. There’s a lot of wisdom in your comment.
Joel, I am in formation, too. I urge you to write what and when you are inspired. Don’t take it as a task required or a thing to do to avoid guilt. I like Kathryn’s advice a lot and would echo it. But most importantly, do what you are led to do.
Hi Mark. Good to hear from you! Excellent points; thanks. I guess the conflict comes from the desire to properly respect the process but still encourage others to follow the call, especially those who have challenges similar to ours. Doing justice to both of those can be a delicate balance best served by a very reflective approach. I agree with you; Kathryn is pretty smart! We will keep your diaconate formation journey in our prayers.
I’m not sure I’m smart, more like “learned a lesson the hard way.” We’ve been in diocesan work (and yes, it is “WE!”) for more than a decade. Some lessons you’re quicker to learn than others. Whatever you decide to post, Joel, will be a great benefit to so many. You have some great insight to share. The Holy Spirit will never lead your heart astray.
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