How Gratitude Opens the Door to Vocation

Our readings for this weekend emphasize the importance of gratitude—the importance of giving thanks. Scott Hahn says that the rabbis predicted that when the Messiah finally came, the only sacrifice that would remain would be the Todah sacrifice—the Thanksgiving sacrifice.

And you know what? The rabbis were correct, because the only sacrifice that remains since the temple has been destroyed is the holy sacrifice of the Mass—the Eucharist, thanksgiving.

When we look at our readings, we see the story of Naaman and his interactions with Elisha. The gratitude for what God had done for him changed his life forever. “I will no longer offer holocaust or sacrifice to any other god other than the Lord.” He even went so far as to want two mule loads of dirt so he could worship God on the land that belonged to Him. Thanksgiving.

We shouldn’t be surprised. In our Gospel reading, we hear the story of the ten lepers. All of them are healed. All of them are saved. But only one comes back to say thank you. And in his coming back to say thank you, he is saved. That’s what Jesus tells him: “Your faith has saved you,” because he came back and said thank you.

If you pay very close attention to the Mass, you will have noticed that the preface—the prayer we pray just before the Eucharistic Prayer—always begins: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, to always give you thanks and praise, O Lord our God, through your Son, Jesus Christ.”

It is our duty and our salvation to give thanks. This is why we come to Mass. This is the point of the Eucharist. We are saved, and we come to give thanks—our Todah sacrifice, our thanksgiving. And if we do this, Jesus promises us He will keep His promise. “If you are unfaithful, Jesus remains faithful, because He cannot deny Himself.”

Now, as Father mentioned at the beginning of the Mass, today is Deacon Sunday. It’s a reminder for all of us that we need vocations. We’re always praying for vocations to the priesthood, but we also need deacons.

Have you ever considered that all of us are intermediaries, just like Elisha was for Naaman? We work for God—for the salvation of the world—but also for vocations. I’m reminded of my own journey to the diaconate.

Most of my life, I was at best a nominal Catholic. I went to Mass because I was told to—first by my parents, then by my wife. But it wasn’t until we went to one of the diocesan formation classes here at St. Anthony’s that I started to understand my faith.

We went to a couple of the formation classes, and… eh. But then we went to one taught by Father Peter Royal, who taught Scripture using the Greek translation of the Bible. He would translate it as he went and explain it. I couldn’t believe the depth of the Word of God—how many things are hidden that we never see.

Then I went to our adult education classes here, taught by Deacon Lee Cochran. When he got sick, he turned to me and said, “I need you to teach the next class.” And I turned to him and said, “I know nothing. I can’t do that.” He said, “That can be fixed—it’s called study.”

So I helped. And then one night when he was able to come back and rejoin the class, I met him at the door and said, “Deacon, I have a question for you.” He looked at me and said, “You’re going to make a fine deacon.” Never got to ask him the question.

But I took his word for it, that I needed to learn more. So I went to the university and got a master’s degree in theology. Even there, although I didn’t always agree with the professors, they too helped open my heart and soul to the depth of our faith—how unbelievably fascinating our faith is.

The point of what I’m saying is this: a vocation isn’t something you often discern on your own—hardly ever, in fact. They happen with the intercession of others, just like Elisha did for Naaman.

I can guarantee you there are men in this congregation today who are being called to the diaconate. Tell them. Encourage them. Pray for them. My wife told me, “Make sure you tell the congregation to tell them more than once—because they’re men.”

All of us have to work together to build the Body of Christ. All of us have a role to play. Sometimes that role is simply to encourage, to pray. But sometimes that role is to step up.

And I always tell people, trust me—God doesn’t choose the people who are good at stuff. God looks at people and says, “You know the stuff you hate doing the most? That’s what I want you to do. That’s what I need you to do, because I want you to know that when you actually succeed, it’s I working through you and not you.”

God chooses broken vessels—and we’re all broken, in one extent or another. And God doesn’t care. God says, “I can work with that. I can work with you.”

Pray for one another. Encourage one another. And if you are a man—or know a man—who would make a good deacon, tell him more than once.

Jesus, I trust in You. Amen.