Monday, June 19, 2023

The vocation to parenthood

 This is my homily for yesterday, the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A.  This particular Sunday also was Father's Day.  The readings for the day are here.

It’s the time of year when dioceses are ordaining their new priests and new deacons.  Earlier this month, our now-former seminarian, Deacon Isaac Doucette, became Father Isaac Doucette.  He’ll celebrate mass at St. Edna next weekend, at the 9:30 mass.  

And today I’m going to talk about vocations.  But I’m not going to talk about becoming a priest or a religious sister or a religious brother or a deacon.  To be sure: I will always make myself available to talk with you, or anyone, about that kind of religious vocation, if you’re feeling pulled in that direction.  But today, on this Father’s Day weekend, I want to talk about a different kind of vocation: the vocation to parenthood.   

If I’ve baptized any of your children or grandchildren, or if you’ve ever attended one of my baptism preparation sessions, you’ve heard me talk about the vocation to parenthood.  Because I firmly believe that parenthood isn’t just a job.  Parenthood isn’t gig work or a side hustle.  Parenthood truly is a vocation.  It’s a sacred vocation to which God has called us.

Why do I describe parenthood as a vocation?  I’ll provide three reasons.  First of all, the dictionary says that to pursue a vocation requires great dedication and commitment.  Vocations are supposed to be the sort of thing that we pour all of ourselves into.  That’s true for priests and religious sisters and brothers and deacons – and it’s true for parents as well.   If you’re a dad, or a mom, chances are you’ve already figured that out.  Parenthood is not something we can just show up for, do the minimum, and then punch out at the end of the day.  For parenthood, there is no “quiet quitting”.  There are no “Bare Minimum Mondays”.  When you’re a dad or a mom, you’re always on duty.  And it’s not easy.  I lost count of the number of nights I had to roll out of bed, multiple times in a single night, because the baby was crying.  

Before I became a parent, I was famous among my family and friends for being able to sleep through anything.  That changed when God sent babies into our lives.  When the baby cries, you have to respond.  It’s as if, in becoming a parent, God was rewired us – rewired our ears and hearts to respond to these little ones who are crying – crying out to us for help.  

I hear an echo in today’s Gospel of responding to little ones in need.  We’re told that Jesus’s heart was filled with pity when he looked upon the people, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.  When a child comes into your family, they are like lost lambs, too.  They need a good shepherd.  They need a mom, and a dad, to care for them.  God fills our hearts with the same pity and love for them that Jesus feels for us.  In fact, if you want to get some idea of how much Jesus loves us, think about how much your mom or your dad loved you - or, if you are a parent, think about how much you love your children.  Jesus loves us that much - and more.

Here is a second way in which parenthood is a sacred vocation.  Turning again to the dictionary, we see that a vocation includes an element of suitability.  We want our priests to be suitable for the priesthood: to have the right qualities and aptitudes for leading and serving others.  Some of these qualities and aptitudes, priests were born with or had developed early in life, perhaps before they had ever thought of becoming a priest.  And a young seminarian or priest may have other skills and abilities which are latent – they possessed them, but haven’t yet been used until becoming a priest, and are useful or necessary for ministry, and so they need to be called forth and developed.  And then there may be gaps in a priest's qualities and aptitudes which require gifts from God to fill.  None of us are perfectly prepared for what God is calling us to do.

All this is true of the vocation of parenting as well.  Somehow our being dads and moms fits our talents and abilities, even when we didn’t know we had some of those gifts until our kids came along.  In my case, when I became a dad, I didn’t know I had any particular talents or skills as a parent.  But there is this important difference: priests receive years of formal preparation for the priesthood.   Not so with parenting: for better or worse, most of us don’t go to school and get certifications to be parents; parenthood sort of happens to us, ready or not, and it’s up to us to figure it out – usually when we’re already in the midst of it.   We parents are building the airplane while it’s already up in the air, in flight.  We’re learning how to fulfill our vocation while we’re doing it.

Again, this echoes this weekend’s Gospel reading.  Jesus sent forth the twelve to do amazing things: cure the sick; drive out demons; even raise the dead.  Do you think the twelve had any clue they could do those things?  And, in a sense, they couldn’t, not with their own native abilities; if they were able to do these things at all – and they were - it’s because God gave them gifts.  In my case as a dad, God gave me gifts, too, that I didn’t know I had.  The most important gift God gives us dads and moms in this regard is the gift of loving our children.  I didn’t know how much love I had in me, until God sent kids my way.

Here is a third way that being a parent is a vocation.  This might be the most important aspect of all: vocations are callings.  By “calling” I mean: we don’t choose, all on our own, to be parents.  We may think we did it all by ourselves, making these children – but if that’s what we think, we may not be as attentive to God at work in our lives as we could be.   This is true of all vocations, including vocations to the priesthood or the diaconate or religious life: we don’t really choose our vocations on our own.  If it’s really our vocation, it’s because God has called us to it.  And I believe with all my heart that this is true of the vocation of parenthood, too: if we’re parents, whether or not we planned to be parents, it’s because this is what God has called us to do.  And it’s up to us to respond to the call, with love and self-giving.

Most of us parents don’t have the luxury of just being parents: we have to balance parenthood with other commitments, like work, and marriage, and obligations to extended family, and other things in our lives.  Most of us have more than one vocation.  Yes, I’m a deacon, but I also have a vocation to parenthood, a vocation to being a husband, a vocation to being a son, a vocation to being a brother, a neighbor, and the list can continue on from there.  Someday, I may be called to the vocation to being a grandfather.  Some of us have vocations – true callings – to do particular work, like teaching, or medicine, or tool and die making.

If God has called us to be parents, then trying to live out our vocation-filled lives without God is futile.  And yet the world is filled with people who don’t see God at work in our lives, who don’t get that God created all this, and is looking over us, and loves us, and wants to help us, and in fact is helping us all the time, whether we see it or not.  Dads, and moms, this is my final Father’s Day piece of advice today: live a life that acknowledges God, and thanks God¸ and turns to God for help.  And then, teach our kids to do the same.  

Happy Father’s Day, dads.  And moms, thank you for helping us dads to pursue our vocations to parenthood.


13 comments:

  1. It’s sadly clear that many, many thousands of people become fathers, or mothers, who are not called to parenthood. The children suffer the most from this. Yet the church insists that ALL couples agree to be open to having children when they marry in the church, whether or not they are suited to parenthood. Many are called to marriage who are not called to parenthood.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I have heard an interpretation of that call to being open to parenthood that is a little different than just insisting that everyone be parents. I think it is easy to see why not every married couple is going to try to be parents, such as health, or being on the far end of the biological window, or not feeling that they want to. The church's teaching would seem to be, "Okay, fine, but if you conceive in spite of your best efforts, you're going to see it through and love the child anyway, right?"

      Delete
    2. "The church's teaching would seem to be, "Okay, fine, but if you conceive in spite of your best efforts, you're going to see it through and love the child anyway, right?""

      Sure.

      Here is what I think happens: we write life scripts for ourselves. Many of us have written scripts that don't include the plot twist, "I'm going to have a baby now". So when the baby comes along, we're off-script. "This is not what I expected. This is not what I've planned for my life." I suppose it's pretty easy to confuse that reaction with, "I'm not called to be a parent." But maybe we're just not very good scriptwriters; or maybe we're not as comfortable sending the script back to Rewrite as we need to be.

      Delete
    3. Children know when they are merely tolerated - accepted though an “ accident” - and when they aren’t. I am the last of five. My dad never wanted children at all but my mom, being a good 1940s Irish Catholic wife wasn’t about to use birth control. My 16 month older brother was diagnosed with brain damage around the time my mom found out she was pregnant with me. My dad really, really didn’t want me and I knew it growing up. In my 40s my mother told me that he had taken her to a back alley abortionist when she was pregnant with me. That’s how much he didn’t want me. It may sound strange but it was a relief to me to learn this. I realized that he wasn’t rejecting me because of who I was as a person, but any fifth child. I think that is also when my parents’ marriage started to die. Couldn’t risk one more pregnancy.

      Delete
    4. Anne, I'm so sorry for what you experienced. But also glad you are here, in spite of what your dad thought.
      I know for certain that I was not planned, since from my birth date I had to have literally been conceived on my parents'honeymoon. If not before. But I'm glad I exist, however it happened.

      Delete
    5. "It may sound strange but it was a relief to me to learn this. "

      In a way, it sounds like, if not actual forgiveness, at least a way station on the road to forgiveness - perhaps a graced realization on your part?

      Delete
    6. Jim, my father was not called to be a parent. He did pro forma dad stuff for the three eldest but not not for my closest in age brother nor for me. Unfortunately my mom wasn’t really called to motherhood either but it was expected in her generation, and since she was a devout Catholic she did nothing to prevent pregnancy. However she did rise to the occasion to raise five kids mostly by herself, including my brother with special needs in an era when there weren’t any programs or special Ed for kids like him. She was not nurturing, not particularly loving, but she was valiant. I don’t think about forgiving my father. For what? He never wanted to be a father. His hands off way of fathering was not directed to us , especially not to me, personally. I was a kid he really didn’t want, right after learning that #4 was so developmentally delayed that he might not ever live a normal life. He couldn’t deal with it. His emotional reaction to the pregnancy that resulted in my birth was actually pretty unshocking really. Most people would have been upset, especially coming on the heels of the diagnosis and prognosis the 7 month old baby had been given. Our emotions are what they are, and not something that need forgiveness.,

      Delete
    7. "...but she was valiant."
      Valiant is a good thing to be.

      Delete
    8. I knew guys who were indifferent to having kids. It was something their wife wanted. But when they held their newborn life package in their hands, everything changed. I remember getting called by a friend, in tears after he just held his baby boy, someone I never thought I'd hear crying. So, who knows if one has a calling a priori? Or even the talent. What is really problematic, in my view, is the lack of extended family and social connections. Parents may be primary but not sufficient.

      Delete
    9. "What is really problematic, in my view, is the lack of extended family and social connections. Parents may be primary but not sufficient."
      Stanley, I agree with that. I am so glad that I was near family when our kids were born. The moral support and encouragement is the main thing. Being the oldest of five I was fairly familiar with how to take care of babies' physical needs. But it's different when they're yours. It's like they say, the buck stops here. The responsibility can be daunting, and it's nice to have people telling you that you're doing a good job. Or, "I'll sit with the baby while you go to church." Or the movies.
      I know it helped my husband to have his dad around, too. He was a proud grandpa.
      When they get older it doesn't seem so overwhelming.

      Delete
    10. Katherine, I am in constant amazement and envy at the family life you were blessed with growing up. It’s sad that it does not reflect what many - maybe most- experience. I don’t know why. I never got any moral support from family - not even from my sisters. Neither of our moms were moral support either. My mom lived across the country but it didn’t really matter. She had no interest in helping with kids. When she visited when mine were babies and preschool she didn’t help, wouldn’t babysit even long enough for me to go to the grocery store, didn’t try to really interact with them - no storybook time. We lived about 15 minutes away from my husband’s parents. They didn’t babysit but did occasionally play with the kids a bit and read stories before they were kindergarten age. They also harshly and regularly criticized everything we did as parents, especially me. Our eldest son was a challenge from the day we brought him home from the hospital. My mother- in- law told relatives that he was a bad kid and that it was all my fault. Well, we continued to handle him our way - lots of patience and tons of love rather than the harsh discipline they recommended and it worked. He is an incredibly loving, kind, generous person, and a wonderful husband and father.

      Your family sounds like a Norman Rockwell painting.

      Delete
    11. Yes I was blessed with my family, and I am very thankful for them. But those people are all gone now, and I very much miss them. I'm trying to be supportive in a similar way to our kids and their families, but it's not working out quite the same. Mainly there is more physical distance, and their lives are different, much busier. It is what it is, and we just try to be there for them
      the best we can.
      The closest sibling bond I have is with my youngest sister, the one who is eighteen years younger. I think after our mom passed we kind of turned to each other.
      That's too bad your in-laws were so critical of you and your son , and good that you persevered and were patient and gentle with him. He sounds like a wonderful young man.

      Delete
  2. I'm not a parent. But I've always felt that if I ever were one, I'd be ok at it. Just ok. Which is good enough. I definitely wouldn't overparent. I never felt a calling to be a parent. And I really, really didn't feel a calling to be a husband.

    ReplyDelete