The Deacon

A welcome focus of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65) was its emphasis on the lay apostolate, especially the laity’s participation in the mission of Christ, who is priest, prophet and king (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, No. 897).

So all the baptized are in some sense “priests.” Our first pope affirmed that the Church is a veritable kingdom of priests (cf. 1 Pt 2:9). Yet over time, the Church understandably came to identify the priesthood exclusively with ministerial, or “ordained,” priests, which could (and did) tend to minimize the priestly role of the rest of us.

It is true, as Vatican II affirms, that the priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial priesthood “differ from one another in essence and not only in degree” (Lumen Gentium, No. 10). This point sparked great discussion during my formative years, and in my many years of lay ministry, I would often have recourse to the concept of the distinctive “priesthood of the lay faithful.”

The glaring external difference, of course, is that only ordained priests act in the person of Christ as the head at Mass, bringing us the Eucharist, not to mention the healing graces of the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Anointing of the Sick.

In affirming the “priesthood” of the rest of us, Vatican II was by no means denigrating the unique importance of ordained priests. Rather, the council fathers reminded all Catholics of their own baptismal dignity and mission. An integral part of that is uniting our sacrifices with Christ’s sacrifice at the Mass. St. Paul urges all the faithful to “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship” (Rom 12:1).

That explains why, during the preparation of the gifts at the Mass, the priest turns to the people and says, “Pray, brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.”

Offering Sacrifice

Priests are all about offering sacrifice. When we offer up our prayers, works, joys and sufferings in union with Christ, we are performing a priestly service. We can readily see how this opportunity can invest every seemingly insignificant thing we do with tremendous redemptive value.

I am not a firefighter. Yet, if I encounter a fire in my home or neighborhood, I will do my best to put it out on my own if I can, even before the firefighters are summoned or arrive on the scene. Notice that this does not bestow on me the role, or “office,” of firefighter. Yet, by being a good member of the community, I am complementing the singularly valuable role of the firefighters, and by no means replacing them.

A similar dynamic is at work with the lay faithful, as we extend the graces received in the sacraments into the nooks and crannies of society — beginning in our homes.

In summary, then, the ministry of the ordained priesthood and the baptismal priesthood exercised by the laity are complementary ways of exercising the one priesthood of Christ. I would suggest that there is a similar dynamic at work with the diaconate. The Church teaches that all Christians not only participate in Christ’s priestly office but also in his prophetic and kingly (or royal) offices (see Catechism, Nos. 873, 897). As Scripture teaches, we are “a royal priesthood” (1 Pt 2:9).

Kingly Office

So how do we understand our participation in the kingly office of Christ?

The mother of James and John wondered about that herself, as she pointedly said to Jesus, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom” (Mt 20:21). However, Jesus patiently explained that in his kingdom, royal authority is not about secular power, but about service (diakonia). Jesus concludes by saying, “The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (v. 28).

This clearly is not what most people usually think of when they envision “kingship.”

We see this truth in a startling way in the Holy Thursday liturgy, where we hear about and reenact Our Lord’s washing of the feet of his disciples (cf. Jn 13:1-20). Even though Jesus is the “master,” he took the lowly role of a slave to serve his followers. He not only illustrates what kingship will look like in his Church but also entrusts this brand of kingship to all his followers: “You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do” (Jn 13:13-15).

This diakonia, or service, is not mere “social work” — important as that is — but an integral part of overcoming the reign of sin through embracing the call to holiness that we receive at baptism. All “foot washing” begins with holiness and has as its end the holiness of God’s people. We can also consider that foot washing begins with the Eucharist as its source and ends with the Eucharist as its goal.

But then the question becomes, “Whose feet shall we wash?” We might start with a meditative reading of Matthew 25, where Jesus identifies with the poor and marginalized in our midst. The Church has always upheld the corporal and spiritual works of mercy as an integral part of the Christian life.

But what about the diakonia of ordained ministers, especially deacons? It is a question that I have often pondered as a formator of deacons over the past 13 years.

The call to serve rather than be served, to find Jesus in the materially and spiritually poor, to wash the feet of others, and the so-called servant mysteries are all things that pertain to all the baptized and not simply to deacons.

When it comes to the difference between priests and laity, it’s really easy to point to the unique powers of the priest noted above. The deeper reality is the priest’s special configuration to Christ the High Priest, but the effects of that configuration, such as the ability to confect the Eucharist, are clearly observable.

The Field Hospital

I think we have to admit that all of this is a little more elusive when it comes to the distinctiveness of the ordained or ministerial diaconate as compared to what we might call the “diaconate of the laity.” There may be canonical privileges, but there are no readily identifiable superpowers attached to being configured to Christ the Servant.

Yes, there is much great work being done in this area by outstanding theologians like Deacon James Keating and Deacon Dominic Cerrato. Many images point to aspects of this mysterious configuration to Christ the Servant. “Servant on the move,” “waiter,” “envoy of the bishop” and many other images point to important aspects of this reality.

One image that strikes me builds on Pope Francis’ image of the Church as a field hospital. As I consider that image, I imagine the laity as soldiers on the battlefield, and the priests and bishops back in the field hospitals, acting in the person of Christ the Divine Physician in treating the wounds of sin with the sacraments.

Where does that leave the deacon? In this image, I see him as the medic. He is on the battlefield, shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers, and bullets are flying over his head. He is trained to do some triage, but his mission is to get the wounded to the hospital, and then quickly get back to the battlefield for the others. Of course, other soldiers assist their fallen comrades, but only the medic has this specific office to move back and forth between the world of the soldier and the world of the physician.

But again that brings me back to my ordination in recent months. No amount of study, experience or training alone could account for the change that has taken place in me and in those who were ordained with me.

The configuration to Christ the Servant is real. Deacon Keating aptly calls it a wound. For me, I gravitate toward verses like, “Woe to me if do I not preach [the Gospel]” (1 Cor 9:16) or “the love of Christ impels us” (2 Cor 5:14) to describe my experience. I feel a new, pervasive compulsion — not in an unhealthy, pathological sense — to empty myself for the sake of the Gospel. It’s a beautiful, amazing and, at times, startling thing.

At the service of communion, and with a preferential love for the poor — or in the above image, the wounded — the deacon is a tangible sign of Christ’s diakonia in the world.

DEACON LEON SUPRENANT is director of the Office of the Permanent Diaconate for the Archdiocese of Kansas City in Kansas