José Luis Gómez Díaz
The Gospel passage that has inspired my vocational journey is Matthew 4:18-22.
In this passage, Jesus walks along the Sea of Galilee and sees Peter and Andrew, then James and John. He calls them to follow him, saying he will make them “fishers of men.” They respond immediately, leaving their previous occupations to follow him.
Jesus appears at a specific time and place, addressing particular people in specific circumstances. He sees Peter and Andrew in their daily work, looks at them with unconditional love, and extends an invitation: “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” In the same way, Jesus has come to my “Galilee.” He has seen me in my everyday life, has come to meet me, and has called me to follow him, giving my life new purpose and meaning. He has seen my weaknesses and imperfections, but also my talents and abilities. He accepts me as I am and desires to transform my life day by day.
The invitation of Jesus, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men,” continues to resonate in my heart. Jesus calls me to follow him, to walk with him, to keep my eyes on him, and to listen. Throughout my vocational journey, I have dedicated time to prayer, as well as the study of philosophy and theology. However, prayer is the foundation that sustains my path. Through prayer, meditation, participation in daily Eucharist, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, and reflection on Sacred Scripture, I find the strength needed to deepen my relationship with the living Jesus.
Following Jesus requires listening closely to him in the silence of prayer, learning to be like him, and acting according to his teachings. Obedience and determination are fundamental to this journey because we trust fully in him to do God’s will. We follow him with a firm and conscious decision, offering ourselves freely and faithfully. Following Jesus is not merely walking beside him; it’s about becoming more like him – sharing in his joy, enduring trials with him, and triumphing alongside him.
In following Jesus, I have learned to trust in him, to know I am loved by him, to love him in return, and to make him the center of my life. I have also learned that following him requires me to surrender my own desires and priorities to embrace his will, as well as to sacrifice personal comforts.
Over these five years of seminary formation, I have experienced how God is transforming me inwardly to live in deeper union with him. I have let go of old habits and embraced a new life with him. Every day, I continue to hear his invitation to follow him, and I trust that his grace is enough to make me a fisher of men.
Kenneth Parsad
I love the letters of St. Paul because they are filled with passionate testimony of his personal convictions and theological depth. A particular favorite is his Letter to the Galatians. One of his most moving words is in Chapter 2, verses 19-20, where in a moment of vulnerability he declares a paradoxical security, “For through the law I died to the law, that I might live for God. I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me.”
His words are both an inspiration and a reminder to constantly allow the Holy Spirit to work within me and that I may be found in losing myself to Jesus Christ. The priestly life is a continuous ‘dying to oneself,’ a process that is painfully necessary yet profoundly meaningful – one that I strive towards in my own little ways. The humbling act of kenosis (self-emptying) is the only way to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and thus to become an authentic Alter Christus (Another Christ) to the people of God.
His words also bring consolation and security because they remind me of my enduring identity. My identity is not based on what I think about myself, nor in what others think of me, nor is it in my weaknesses or even strengths. My identity is rooted in how God sees me, in my faith in him who infinitely loves me, even unto death.
As N.T. Wright aptly puts it: “Instead of the philosopher René Descartes saying, ‘cogito ergo sum’ (I think, therefore I am), Paul would say, ‘amo ergo sum’ (I am loved, therefore I am).” The only reason I exist and I am where I am is because of the love of Jesus Christ.
Michael Weight
This is a difficult choice! However, I have been forced (in a sense explained later) to pick 1 John 4:16-19: “So we know and believe the love God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. In this is love perfected with us, that we may have confidence for the day of judgement, because as he is so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and he who fears is not perfected in love. We love, because he first loved us.” Every decision may be made either out of fear or out of love. Fear is inherently paralyzing and corrosive while love is intrinsically creative; where there is fear, there cannot be love, and where there is love there cannot be fear. This passage therefore stands out to me as a diagnosis: The world is consumed by fear because it has not yet been perfected in love. I understand this to mean the world does not yet know God and fear is the offspring of that ignorance. This realization offered a strikingly clear vision for me last year about what the priesthood and discipleship actually look like and has directly informed nearly every decision I have made from that point on. Since this passage has utterly consumed me, I’m compelled to pick it as my favorite!
Jaime Zuazo
The road to Emmaus Scripture passage continues to inspire me as I continue my seminary journey. The two disciples were going to Emmaus from Jerusalem as Jesus approaches them, and they are not able to recognize him. Jesus walks along with them, explaining to them everything in the Scriptures concerning him; they beg him to stay with them, and Jesus breaks the bread and their eyes were opened. This Bible passage gives me hope; it makes me realize how often I fail to recognize Jesus, but he walks along the way with us, he is patient and explains to us in ways we can understand what he is about.
I, like the two Emmaus disciples, have been slow to understand; it has taken me a long time to realize that Jesus has been walking with me on the way. He has used different people in my life to guide and explain to me what life is all about. Every year seminary life has been interesting and different. Every semester we take different classes with different professors who have similar and different styles of teaching, but they all share the commitment and enthusiasm to share with us their knowledge and wisdom. My seminary professors have been a source of inspiration and hope for my vocation; they have been patient and understanding, adjusting to our specific needs and cultures.
I learned to respect and value my seminary professors, I learned to hear Jesus’ voice in their lessons and to encounter him in their life testimony. I have also encountered Jesus in the discipline of prayerful reading, what I call the art of reading with the mind and the heart.
Seminary academics require a lot of reading; every class requires numerous amounts of pages to read from one day to the other. The constant struggle to understand a reading brings learning. It feels good to be able to understand, to grasp with the mind and to let it grow in our hearts.
I have also felt like the Emmaus disciples when they beg Jesus to stay with them as the night came quickly. During my years of seminary formation, I had the privilege to study and share seminary life with different seminarians from different parts of the United States and abroad, of different ages and cultures. We have struggled, laughed and cried together. Jesus has been walking with me, so close and sometimes being so unnoticed. My heart has been filled with ardent yearning as I learn from my seminary professors, as I discover the wisdom of a book and with the help of a seminary brother.
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