A Note from Deacon Weldon

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

St. Paul says in Philippians “Your kindness should be known to all.” (4:5). It has been. Thank you for such a warm welcome, your encouraging words, and most importantly, your prayers. God was listening. With Fr. Kevin on pilgrimage, I thought I would offer you a short reflection on my ordination.

Though I prepared thoroughly for my ordination, one thing I did forget was a handkerchief. (I won’t forget next year.) As the Gospel was being proclaimed, I started tearing up as Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love me, do you love me, do you love me.” In that I heard Jesus asking me those same questions and me asking him as well. I was getting scared because there I was crying and we hadn’t even made it to the ordination rite yet. We had a long way to go.

Just as the rite began and I had regained my composure, the Bishop gave his approval of the candidates and the congregation’s applause began, and continued, and continued, and continued. It was thunderous. I couldn’t hear it so much in my ears, as I could literally feel it vibrating in my rib cage. To feel that sincere and deep appreciation for our call and our vocation was one of the most humbling experiences I have had in my entire life. And so I started crying again.

After the Bishop’s homily came the promises, or vows. I smiled confidently as I promised celibacy, obedience, and a number of other promises that are required for entrance into the clerical state. There was something freeing and joyful about making those promises, forever, and not having to deliberate them anymore. Now the important thing becomes how do I live those same promises in my daily life.

The most moving part for most is the Litany of the Saints. Jeff and I laid face down on the floor, a position meant to symbolize our complete surrender to God and his Church, and also a death to our former life, followed by a rising to our new life. As I heard the saints’ names called upon to pray for us, I stared into the marble floor, though once again, with teary eyes. I saw my own reflection at first, but as my stare deepened, it was almost as if I saw into the marble and it became three-dimensional. My mind’s-eye brought to me a picture of Our Lady of Grace, her hands extended with the Lord’s graces flowing through her to Jeff and me below. Though faceless, I could see the saints and angels, that are present at every Mass, surrounding us with their prayers. My tears began to dry up as I was pulled deeper into this Mystery.

The words “through Christ, our Lord, Amen” pulled me back and I realized it was time for the most important part of the ordination, the part that is necessary for validity- the Laying on of Hands and the Prayer of Consecration. As the bishop lowered his hands firmly upon my head, I knew the grace of orders was working because I wasn’t worried about him messing up my hair, I was concentrated on receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit who has been handed down through the hands of the Apostles ever since Jesus handed Peter the keys to the kingdom. As he laid hands, I heard in my heart, “Peter, Peter.” I realized that through Apostolic succession, it was truly Peter himself who was laying hands, and Jesus who was giving the gift of his Spirit through him. A transforming peace enveloped me. Then, as I heard the actual words, “Send forth your Spirit, Lord, we pray…” I felt an even deeper sense of peace, and a confidence that He would be with me always. From that point, I was unable to cry because my joy had far surpassed any level I have ever experienced. The hardest thing was trying not to smile. I finally gave up; I couldn’t hold it in.

The rest of the Mass went very quickly, and throughout I was aware of the gratitude I felt to God and to his Church for ordaining me. In that I knew what Pope John Paul II meant when he said that our vocation is a gift, a gift and a mystery. It is a gift because it is not ours; it is a mystery, because God cannot give it without us. The relationship that is established calls one to an intimate sharing of our very beings, not only with God in prayer, but with God in the service and love we give to others.

As I close, I look at my Bible, providentially at Philippians again, and notice below the passage I quoted at the beginning of this letter is a quote I think I will use to end this letter. “Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (4:7)

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all!

Yours in Christ,
Deacon Weldon

Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer. (Romans 12:12)