As we begin this Season of Lent, I began reflecting on the fact that for the last twelve years, I have stood here in front of a community like this one to explain the symbolism of the burned palms that we turn into ashes each year. For the last twelve years I have spoken about the Lenten sacrifices that we are all called to make, in order to remind ourselves of the greater sacrifice that Christ made for us on the cross.

Today, however, I would like to take a moment to talk about the sacrifice of three priests who were instrumental for me standing here today following their example of faith. Because of their sacrifice, I stand here today. Hopefully because of my sacrifice, some in this parish may hear the call of the priesthood and do the same.

As I began to reflect on my own vocation story, I took myself back to the late 1960s at St. Dominic's Parish in Bolingbrook, Illinois. I was a precocious young lad at that time (nothing like the mature and well-raised grown-up of today…) and my parents told me that my vocational calling began at the age of four, when I used to sneak up the sanctuary steps during Mass and sat on the edge of the sanctuary while Fr. Gregory was celebrating Mass. Now most priests (including myself) might balk at such a gesture, but Fr. Gregory welcomed it and often would invite me to sit next to him on one of the priest's chairs next to him during Mass. It was because of that gesture on his part that I became hooked to God on my part.

As I grew a little older (now I was five), I wanted to say Mass just like the priest did. Fr. Gregory did not want to discourage me because he was always seeking vocations, so every so often, he would give me an old bag of hosts to take home, so that I could "play" Mass with my family. I really didn't know how to celebrate Mass but I really loved the communion part, so I pretty much skipped the readings and went straight for the communion. And when communion time came, my brother Ben would sneak into the room, grab a couple hosts, and leave the room just as quickly. Even at five years old, I was driving people crazy about leaving Mass early…

When I was ten, I moved to a small town about 60 miles southeast of Chicago called "Sandwich, Illinois," with a population of about 5,400 people (in 30 years, the town's population has grown almost 100 people and has become a booming metropolis). In Sandwich, I attended Mass at St. Paul's Church downtown, about three blocks away from a diner made from the engine of a train car. At this parish, I met another priest named Fr. Tom Kane who took one look at me and assigned me to serve as lector at the 7:30 Sunday morning Mass each week. In addition to my duties as lector, Fr. Kane hired me for small jobs at the parish (painting, mowing the lawn and such) in order that I could earn enough money to attend high school seminary. With his help, I was able to attend a boarding school high school seminary at a cost of $1300 a year, half of which was paid by the pastor, the rest by my father and my earnings on the job. It was from my high school seminary experience that I realized that this type of lifestyle was the calling that God called me to live.

I entered high school seminary, then college, and ultimately graduate school seminary, where I met a priest named Fr. Patrick Boyle, a Jesuit teacher of moral theology at the time. Fr. Boyle was called "the colonel" at the seminary, due to the rank he served in the army while ministering to the troops during the Vietnam conflict. Fr. Boyle's reputation among his peers was stellar - here was a man who was willing to bring the sacraments up the front line for the sake of saving souls. During the most difficult times of my priesthood, I turned to Fr. Boyle for guidance, a man with great experience and even a greater heart.

As I reflected on today's homily I thought to myself that Fr. Gregory, Fr. Kane, and Fr. Boyle probably will not be recognized for any major theological advancements in the world, nor will you probably ever hear of these three men again in your lives, but in my mind it was the little moments that I shared with each respective priest that made all the difference to me and made my road to the priesthood a special one. I think to myself that if I could give a chance to other the same opportunity to understand the joys of ordained ministry that priests like Fr. Gregory, Fr. Kane and Fr. Boyle gave to me, then maybe that is the role that I am supposed to play in the world. Maybe that is the role all of us play.

As we begin our Lenten exercise once again, all of us are called to be challenged to live a life of sacrifice, not for our sake but for the sake of the gospel and those we serve. When we live this life of sacrifice, we allow our seed of faith to die in order that another life may grow. Over these next forty days, may we understand this sacrifice that Christ has offered us, may we reminisce about those who have sacrificed for us and let us follow their lead in dying for the people that we meet. This is our prayer.

This is our prayer.