“A father is respected because he gives his children leadership...appreciated because he gives his children care...valued because he gives his children time...loved because he gives his children the one thing they treasure most, himself.”
—Anonymous
I’ll never forget in the Fall of 1984 driving to Mt. St. Mary’s Seminary for the first time with my family. After making our way through the Catoctin Mountains whose windy roads never seem to end, we finally arrived at the remote country town of Emmitsburg, MD (just 12 miles away from Gettysburg, PA). As we unpacked the car with the help of the seminarians, my dad, completely worn out by the trip, remarked, “I hope you like it here because I’m not coming back!” Dad was certainly correct. Within a year and a half, the Lord called him home, and he never did make that trip again. But Dad was happy that my brother Dan was just down the road in Hershey the at Penn State Medical School, knowing that we had one another.
The word “seminary” literally means “seed bed” — a place to foster new life, new promise and to spiritually cultivate the soul by plowing through selfish desires in order to yield to God’s transforming grace for the unfolding of His plan. During my childhood years, my parents helped develop our faith, planting the seeds for greater growth. After prayer, discernment and surrendering to God’s will, the Spirit led me to a greater formation training at the seminary.
The more I reflect upon my years in the seminary, the more I understand the nature of growth itself. Growth is an imperceptible process. Sometimes in our spiritual lives, we feel discouraged. God’s will is not always so clear or evident. We may struggle with the same sins, temptations, weaknesses and dryness in prayer. However, God’s grace continues to grow within us. But just like a seed planted in the earth, it’s a hidden growth. This hiddenness summons us to trust more in God and do His work as we wait patiently for His action. We can learn from the mustard seed, the smallest seed in Palestine. A farmer has great faith in this seed, that it will grow and bear great fruit. So too, the Kingdom of God is brought forth from the most ordinary, mundane, common realities of daily life. And even though we don’t think we have a great harvest — God still trusts us to cultivate with care and sacrifice the plot of earth He has placed in our care.
It is in that spirit that I return today, on this Father's Day, back to “Mary’s Mountain” to make my annual priestly retreat at Mount Saint Mary’s Seminary. The retreat master will be Fr. Brett A. Brannen, a priest of the Diocese of Savannah, GA, who was in the seminary during my time. A retreat is a time to hear the call of God once again after many years. In an oftentimes noisy, busy and fast-paced society, a retreat almost seems as an escape rather than what is essential to meeting life head-on. But a retreat is a time to pause, reflect, relax, rest and renew in the Lord, and thus better serve the Lord. As my brother Dan and his wife go to the beach for a summer vacation, I ascend to Mary’s Mountain to give thanks for the calling God has given me in the ministry He has entrusted to my care and the garden He wants me to help cultivate. I look forward to being with brother priests from around the United States to share our experiences of ministry after having worked hard in the vineyard to share a meal, camaraderie and the bond of the Eucharist together. We learn from one another and this exchange is invaluable to greater maturity.
The word “vocation” comes from the Latin word “vocare” meaning “to call.” Throughout the Bible God calls frequently. This election or calling is a personal summons to respond in faith. It’s walking with courage and giving witness. It is a growth process. A vocation doesn’t happen in a vacuum. But we must work on answering the call throughout a lifetime. It must be nourished. A call is also not a private call but a gift for others — to share with others, to encourage others, to help others and to live our faith each day. Even when we stumble and fall and to rise up again. It’s in difficult times that we really grow the most.
There is a towering figure at Mt. St. Mary’s for whom the library is named after, Msgr. Hugh J. Philips. And atop the cemetery, there is towering monument in his sacred memory. This man came to this campus in his sixth grade as a student and remained there for more than eight decades, leaving this world, and the Mount, at age 97. He taught theology and Church history at Emmitsburg School and was a professor of philosophy and psychology at St. Joseph College in Emmitsburg. He also taught Medical Ethics at Catholic University. Msgr. Philips was in many ways the spirit of Mt. St. Mary’s. He was the 19th president of the college. He later became an archivist and the college library was named after him in 1995. He was the director and chaplain of the Shrine. He was responsible for all the renovations for the Our Lady Lourdes Grotto there. Today, over 100,000 visitors come to this quiet spiritual sanctuary that he so faithfully tended to and cared for all the years of his life.
As I head for the mountains for a retreat, I take with me all the faces, names and graces that I have received throughout this blessed vocation that God has entrusted to me. Msgr. Hugh Philips is a larger than life figure at Mt. St. Mary’s. His name is on buildings, written in history books and touched by those who knew and walked with him. He’s in the hearts that he’s left behind. Like the parable of the mustard seed, true greatness grows in smallness. It is the small imperceptible things of life that help us and others to grow. I was always inspired by this man’s dedication, commitment and love, to make this small town a large center of faith formation. Although my dad only made it to this mountain once, his spirit makes me soar to new heights as I continue to serve the Lord. Never underestimate the presence and the power of a father’s influence in one’s life. Wishing all fathers our respect, our appreciation and our prayers.
Happy Father’s Day!
