The Cathoholic

Iraq Chaplain Dies

Just read that Father Timothy Vakoc, the St.Paul-Minneapolis priest who served as an Army chaplain in Iraq, died last weekend. Surrounded by family and friends who "prayed him into heaven" at St. Therese nursing home in New Hope, Father Vakoc reached the end of a valiant struggle to overcome the injuries he suffered five years earlier in Iraq. At that time, he was returning from a trip to celebrate Mass when a roadside bomb hit his humvee on May 29, 2004, the 12th anniversary of his ordination.  A severe brain injury and the loss of one eye brought Father Vakoc back to the nation's capital. His sister recalled a remark he made that underscored his courageous commitment to his vocation and to the troops he served: "The safest place for me to be is in the center of God's will, and if that is in the line of fire, that's where I'll be."

I mention Father Vakoc's story, not only because his ministry and personal struggle were deeply inspirational, but also because his work underscores the very great need for military chaplains. At present, about 100 military bases do not have a chaplain, and many active duty military personnel have no opportunity to receive the Sacraments on a regular basis. 

We need more chaplains, and I hope Catholics know that the Archdiocese for Military Services has launched a formal vocations program to identify active-duty military personnel interested in the priesthood or religious life.  This is a groundbreaking initiative that will encourage individuals to consider a priestly vocation, whether as a military chaplain or as a priest destined for a diocese or a religious order. Check it out and get in touch. We need more Father Vakocs !

Update: Here's an article on Father Vakoc's funeral in the National Catholic Register.

Vocations Strategy: War & Economic Crisis?

At some point in our lives, most of us experience the truism that God can take evil and bring forth great good from it.  9/11 served as an example of this principle at work. As many of us quaked before the reality of man's destructive power, we fled to our churches, to the arms of the Creator who created the human person for his "own sake," who took on human form and then died to redeem us. We also rediscovered the profound beauty of the hidden, seemingly ordinary lives of firefighters and police who had dedicated themselves to public service with little thought of social status or financial gain. 

At times, the fight for survival clarifies the mind and nudges us back on our path to eternity. The present  economic crisis, fueled, in part, by unchecked human greed, offers us another opportunity to grope for our spiritual anchor and confront essential matters. Pope Benedict XVI certainly hopes we will take such steps. And, according to Inside the Vatican,  he will soon issue a social encyclical that will provide a unique perspective on the unfolding financial crisis. 

As much as I fear for our future, I also expect that the downturn will be the making of some of us, and even lead many Catholics to a priestly or religious vocation. Now, a New York Post article suggests this hope is not misplaced. According to the Post, after Holy Name Province, a Franciscan community, launched a subway ad campaign encouraging Catholics to consider a religious vocation, they quickly received 45 calls from interested recruits.

I have been assisting another vocations campaign, initiated by the Archdiocese for Military Services. This initiative is based on research showing that men who have served their country in the armed forces are also more likely to consider entering the priesthood. Last year, 11 percent of new vocations came from active-duty military personnel, and another 7 percent came from military families. Data show that service in the military and the priesthood both require similar attributes, such as self-sacrifice and valor. A friend of mine, who finished his military service in Iraq and then entered a religious order, told me that the experience of war led him into the priesthood. His story reveals the mysterious power of grace acting during times of crisis and peril. We fear the "refiner's fire" piercing our armored hearts -- and we need it, too.