The Deacon

As a Catholic, it was exciting to wait for the white smoke to waft over the Sistine Chapel and the ringing of the great bells that signify “Habemus papam.” It is an ancient ritual that somehow connects the past to the present. I was overcome with a feeling of joy and belonging.

Then I noticed that it wasn’t just Catholics who were excited. As the bells rang out, people hastened from throughout Rome to St. Peter’s Square. A crowd gathered to learn who was the next heir to St. Peter’s chair. Some were Catholics, some were not. People were waving flags from all over the world. It was something to see. And the interest and excitement extended far outside Vatican City. My husband rushed to the break room at work to view the live television report. Many of his co-workers — most not Catholic — joined him. Knowing that my husband is a Catholic deacon, they asked him many questions. What an opportunity for evangelization!

I think that Peggy Noonan, writing for The Wall Street Journal, captured my sense of the moment the best: “I felt moved and hopeful because you never know in life, it renews itself, surprising things happen. The crowd was dominated by young people wanting something to follow, something to love. If that isn’t moving — the old church trying to renew itself — then nothing is moving.”

When Pope Leo XIV appeared on the balcony, I was struck by the joy that seemed to radiate from him. It is the kind of joy, if my perception is correct, that can only come from having a close and profound relationship with God, the God who entered into his own creation to become one of us.

As I write this, Pope Leo is several months into his pontificate. Yet he still radiates joy. Too many bishops, priests and, yes, deacons look like they have been baptized with vinegar. As I have often asked my husband, “Why can’t you let your face show that you rejoice in the Gospel you are the herald of?”

All Christians are called to proclaim Christ to a joyless world. But deacons have a special charism by virtue of their ordination to bring the good news of the Gospel into the world. The world — especially young people — are more joyless than ever. They feel empty, lost and hopeless. This is the result of being immersed in a world where people are treated as objects and not as persons created in the image of God. Young people live in a world that is forgetting mercy and forgiveness. They have not been told that they belong to someone much greater than themselves, a God who loves us and calls each of us his own.

Modern men and women often cannot find meaning in their lives. Yet they crave it and search for it. I firmly believe that deacons and their wives are vital to bringing the joy of Christ into the hurting world. It is not an easy calling in a world that has forgotten God. And I am becoming convinced that the place to begin is with the liturgy. So much of our liturgy is anything but transcendent. It is often a joyless experience. During Mass, I often have to remind myself where I am and that I am entering a great mystery.

But then we were invited to a wedding. It was a novus ordo Mass, but it was powerfully celebrated. I realized how starved I was for transcendence — to be drawn into the very mystery of the Holy Trinity. Deacons as ministers of the altar should consider ways to influence the renewal of the Mass.

Christmas is a time of rejoicing in the Lord. As Pope Benedict XVI said, “The first word of the New Testament is an invitation to joy: ‘rejoice, be glad!’” (Homily, Dec. 18, 2005). All Christians, and especially deacons, are called to bring the joy of the Gospel to a world in need of hope. In his inauguration Mass homily, Pope Leo reminded us: “We want to say to the world, with humility and joy: Look to Christ! Come closer to him! Welcome his word that enlightens and consoles! Listen to his offer of love and become his one family: in the one Christ, we are one.”

SUSAN KEHOE is co-director of OCIA at Christ the King Parish in Des Moines, Iowa, along with her husband, Deacon Larry Kehoe. She writes at adeaconswife.com.